And for some reason, that made the question rise in my throat like it had been waiting there for far too long.
“Do you want a kid?”I asked, my voice smaller than I meant it to be.
He turned to look at me, not surprised, just thoughtful. Like he’d been expecting it.
“You offering me yours?”he asked with a smile.
I laughed under my breath.“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”He set his glass down, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes locked on mine like he wasn’t afraid of the weight that came with the question.
God, I wish I could’ve made it casual with him. But it just wasn’t. Not anymore.
“I don’t think I want more,”I said quickly, before I could talk myself out of it.“Not because I don’t love being a mom. I do. But I’m not nearly as young anymore. Bash is everything, and I gave everything to have him. My body, my sleep, my entire damn sense of self. And now that I’m here,”I motion between us,“I don’t know if I want to go back to diapers and bottles and sleep schedules.”
I looked away, maybe a bit remorseful, admitting that to him and myself.“I’m not saying it’s a forever no. But I don’t feel a yes in me either. And I needed to say it before this thing between us gets even deeper than it already is.”
He didn’t flinch. Not even a twitch.
“You think that’d be a deal breaker for me?”he asked softly.
“I don’t know. You’re younger. You’ve never had a baby that was yours, and I—”
“Sable.”His voice landed with strength. Not loud. Just certain“I didn’t fall in love with the idea of starting a family. I fell in love with you. And I don’t need a biological stamp on a kid to feel the fulfillment of fatherhood.”
Tears pricked behind my eyes. Not because I was sad, because for the first time, maybe ever, I believed someone wouldn’t leave when I showed them the parts of me that didn’t bend.
“I just didn’t want you to wake up one day and resent me for it,”I whispered.
He leaned across the couch, brushed his thumb beneath my eye even though no tear had fallen yet. His voice went soft again.“You gave me something I didn’t think I’d ever have.You.That’s all I want.”
It wasn’t a grand declaration. No fireworks. No dramatic music swell. But when he said it, I believed him.
Mornings were slow and warm and a little ridiculous after that. Hex made pancakes every single breakfast. Thick, fluffy stacks crowned with whipped cream, as if the meal were a sacred ritual. He’d hand me my plate with a smirk, eyebrow raised, leaning close under the pretense of small talk, then murmur filth that made my knees weak. Always quiet. Always with a straight face.
“Next time I put whipped cream on something, I want it to be those beautiful tits, not breakfast.”
And in seconds, my thighs would press together, warmth blooming between them while I tried to act normal and butter my pancakes. He’d just smirk and sip his coffee, utterly unbothered by the fact that he’d wrecked me for the rest of the morning.
Hex, in time, told me everything. The same day Ashley took Bash, he stood only hours away from a fight that could’ve ended him. A fight arranged to settle debts and keep Ned Stauder from circling us like vultures.
He didn’t hold anything back. Not the threat, not the consequences, not the part where Will stepped in and bled for him. It should’ve gutted me to know danger still surrounded us, that something as simple as loving Hex came with risk. But it didn’t. Not really. Maybe it came down to my belief in him. Or maybe in myself, and what I’d do to protect the people I love with everything in me.
Either way, the fear didn’t sink its teeth in the way it once would’ve. I knew danger wouldn’t just vanish from his life. He wouldn’t stop helping people who needed him.
And the strangest part of it all… how okay I felt with that.
Returning to Stillwater Bend wasn’t the crash landing I’d imagined. Mostly because Demi waited for me with snacks, six candles she swore had cleansing properties, and a ridiculous amount of restraint.
She’s toned herself down, for now. No outlandish comments in front of Bash. No loud proclamations about justified vengeance. Just a quiet whisper, buried in the corner of the shop, meant only for me:
“The Lady Punisher rides again.”
I snorted into my coffee.
Now, two weeks later, I’m finally back in a rhythm.Sort of.Bash is back at school. My doorstep no longer feels haunted. And Demi—well, Demi is back to her meddling self, which is apparently a sign that the universe is healing.
She’s currently trying to lure me out of the shop with vague promises of“a surprise that will definitely change your life.”
