Page 35 of Not Because You Loved Me

Little Leo had arrived to a panicked daddy and big brothers, but after an emergency c-section both baby and mom were happy and healthy. After keeping them a few extra days for Cynthia’s doctor to feel comfortable that she was stable, they had gone home completely pampered by every single member of the family.

I was sitting on Cynthia and Davis’s back deck on a warm Sunday afternoon, cradling two-month-old Leo against my shoulder while he dozed off in a light blue onesie. Cynthia was inside resting, Davis was hovering happily near the kitchen door, and Gideon was stretched out on the lounge chair next to me, tossing an idle baseball up in the air.

Trent was standing near the railing, a cold drink in hand, watching me hold his baby brother with a soft, affectionate warmth in his eyes.

"Look at him," Gideon said with a theatrical sigh, catching his baseball. "Another boy. That makes three Prescott brothers. Dad’s practically building an entire crew at home." He grinned over at Trent, then looked back at me. "Honestly, Kat, you and Trent are going to have to produce a girl someday just to balance out the testosterone in this family."

The moment the words left his mouth, Gideon froze; the baseball slipped from his fingers and bumped along the deck boards. His face was drained of colour. “Oh… shit. Kat, I’m so sorry. I didn't mean... I wasn't thinking, I swear…”

I smiled at him. I didn't feel that phantom ache in my chest, or the surge of resentment that used to choke me months ago. The sting was gone, replaced only by a newfound contentment.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. "Gideon, relax,"

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking mortified. "I am such an idiot..."

"Gid, stop," I smiled, holding up a hand while keeping my other arm secure around Leo’s back. "I don't want any of you walking on eggshells around me. We don't need to censor ourselves or panic over every word. That’s not what family does."

Trent’s gaze snapped up to mine at that word. Family.

I looked right back at him, letting the truth of it sit quietly in the warm afternoon air. "I see you guys as my family," I added softly, looking between Gideon and Trent. "We've all been through enough walking on eggshells to last a lifetime. We're past that."

Gideon let out a massive breath, slumping back into his chair. "Thank God. Because I'm terrible at filtering myself."

Trent didn't say anything, but the look he gave me across the deck was so thick with love and pride it made my pulse skip a beat.

Later that evening, after leaving Davis and Cynthia’s place, Trent and I drove over to our house to spend a couple of hours working.

The main floor was stripped down completely, smelling of wood and sawdust. Trent was standing in the middle of what would be the living room, a tool belt slung over his hips. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his dark hair damp around his temples. He looked… hot. And completely mine.

I stood near the open doorway, holding a pair of work gloves, just watching him.

We had built this new relationship brick by brick, going on dates, eating takeout on the subfloor of our future home, and talking about everything. We were laying a foundation that would last. And the sex, oh my.. The sex was out of this world. It had always been good between us, amazing. But the way we came together now was on a whole other level. No matter if it was rushed because we were both tired and just needed to feel each other, or when we had more time on the rare rainy day when I wasn't working and we could spend the morning worshiping each other. It was amazing and only solidified how amazing this new version of us was.

Looking at him now, at the sweat on his skin, and the way he’d carried the weight of his family and this house all summer without complaining once... I felt that urge to have him, and I wanted to take my time.

"Trent," I called out softly.

He turned, wiping his brow with the back of his forearm. "Yeah?"

I walked straight across the plywood floor until I was standing right in front of him. I reached up, placing my palms flat against his warm chest, right over his beating heart.

"I love you," I said clearly, looking straight into his dark eyes.

Trent reached up, his large, rough hands instantly cupping my face, his thumbs brushing across my cheeks.

"I will never get enough of you saying that to me. Say it again?”

"I love you," I repeated with a smile. "I'm done waiting for the right moment or being overly cautious. I love you, and I know where I belong."

His lips were on mine, deep and desperate. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, tangling my fingers in his hair as he lifted me slightly off my feet, pressing me against his body.

There was no doubt left between us. No phantom ghosts from last winter. Just us, whole and completely real.

When he finally pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine, both of us were breathing heavily. His hands were pinned tight around my waist, refusing to let go.

"I love you so damn much, Katerina," he whispered against my lips. "Every single day."

I smiled, rubbing my nose softly against his. "Good."