The sun spilled warmly across the little kitchen, catching on the neat plates Bella had laid out. She moved with brisk efficiency, pretending her hands weren't trembling ever so slightly. Pretending last night hadn't happened. Pretending she hadn't almost… lost every shred of control.
Last night, she hadn't been in the right state to think clearly. But now, free from the haze of the kiss's influence, she felt acutely aware—too aware. Her jaw tightened. No. She wasn't even going there. She had to act like everything was normal. They were married, after all. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
The sound of deliberate footsteps broke her concentration.
"Breakfast smells good," Lucas said, his voice carrying that effortless confidence that always made her want to either roll her eyes or throw something at him. He slid into a chair, stretching back as though he owned the place. Well—he did. But still.
Bella muttered something about eggs and toast, keeping her back to him, feigning complete indifference to what had happened the night before. She only hoped he wouldn't notice the way her ears were heating. But Lucas noticed everything.
"So," he began, tone deceptively casual, "do we talk about last night, or do we pretend you didn't completely lose yourself in my arms?"
Bella spun, spatula clutched like a weapon. "Lose myself?!" she hissed. "You kissed me, Lucas!"
He tilted his head, lips curving lazily. "True. But you didn't exactly run away either, mia cara."
His words—she hated the effect they had on her. Her grip tightened on the spatula. He was right. She hadn't backed away. And to her own surprise, the thought had never even crossed her mind.
"That doesn't mean—"
"Doesn't mean what?" he cut in smoothly, propping his chin on one hand. His eyes gleamed with mischief. "That you liked it? But I felt that you did."
Bella's mouth opened, but no words came out. Heat rushed to her cheeks—betraying her in the worst way. She turned back to the stove, hiding behind the hiss of butter. This man… he never missed a chance to tease her.
Lucas chuckled under his breath, clearly satisfied with her silence. But if she thought his teasing was all there was to it, she was wrong.
That kiss hadn't left him. Not for a second. He could still taste the faint sweetness of her lips, remember the precise moment her resistance cracked and she melted against him. He'd kissed countless women before, but none of those moments had followed him into the quiet hours, refusing to let go.
It wasn't just the kiss—it was her. Stubborn, fiery, fighting him until the very last heartbeat, only to surrender as though she had always belonged there. He'd felt her hesitation, yes, but beneath it he'd sensed something else. Want. The same want that had kept him awake long after she had turned away.
And that truth was dangerous. Because Lucas wasn't supposed to want her beyond convenience, beyond the fragile balance they had built. But watching her now—flustered, cheeks flushed pink as she pretended the spatula was her only concern—he knew one kiss was never going to be enough.
Not for him.
"You're impossible," Bella muttered.
"And yet you married me," he countered easily, concealing the weight behind his words with a lazy smile.
Before she could retort, a small voice piped up from the doorway.
"Good morning, Mama! Dada!"
Rachel came padding in, bunny clutched in one hand, hair sticking up adorably in every direction.
Bella exhaled in relief, as though her daughter had just rescued her. "Good morning, sweetheart," she said quickly, crouching to hug her.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, watching them with a smug expression that made Bella want to swat him with the spatula.
"Rachel," he said lightly, "tell Mama she makes the best breakfast. Maybe then she'll stop glaring at me."
"I'm not glaring!" Bella protested.
"Yes, you are," he replied smoothly.
Rachel giggled, glancing between them as though she was in on a secret. "You're funny, Mama."
"Funny is one word for her," Lucas murmured, smirk tugging at his lips.
Bella shot him a look that promised retribution later, but the man only smiled sweetly back.
As they sat down together, Rachel chattered away about her dreams and how her bunny desperately needed a new dress. Bella kept her attention firmly on her daughter, refusing to meet Lucas's gaze. But she could feel it—the weight of his eyes lingering on her, filled with unspoken things.
When Rachel leaned over her plate and whispered, "Mama, why's your face red?" Bella nearly dropped her fork.
Lucas's soft laugh was the final straw.
"Eat your toast, Rachel," Bella muttered quickly.
Lucas reached for his coffee, his tone low enough for only Bella to hear. "Don't worry. I won't tell her it's because you liked it."
Bella nearly choked on her juice.
---
The mall was buzzing with weekend energy—parents tugging their children along, couples wandering hand in hand, the aroma of fresh coffee drifting from nearby cafés. Bella shifted uncomfortably as she walked beside Lucas, smoothing her dress as if the fabric could somehow hide how snug it felt.
"I don't know why we needed to come here," she muttered. "My clothes are fine."
"Fine?" Lucas raised a brow, amused. "Bella, you were tugging at that top all morning like it was strangling you. If I hadn't dragged you here, your buttons would've filed for harassment by next week."
Her cheeks warmed. "That's not funny."
Rachel, skipping happily between them, piped up. "Dada, Mommy's buttons can't talk!"
Lucas smirked down at Bella, deliberately ignoring the child's logic. "Exactly. Which is why I'm speaking for them."
Bella glared at him, which only made him laugh harder. How could she look that adorable while glaring? He almost wished she'd never direct that expression at anyone else—just him.
They stepped into one of the maternity-friendly stores, racks lined with soft dresses, stretchy tops, and comfortable trousers. Bella froze the moment she realized where they were.
"Oh no. No, no, no. We're not buying those loose, ugly things." She pointed accusingly at a mannequin draped in a tent-like dress.
Lucas leaned down, his voice brushing close to her ear. "Relax. I won't let you walk out of here looking like a lost bedsheet."
Her heart gave a traitorous skip at the casual closeness, and she immediately straightened, pretending to examine the nearest rack. Rachel tugged on her hand and pointed eagerly at a bright pink dress covered in glittery stars.
"Mommy, this one!"
Bella's jaw dropped. "Rachel, I am not wearing that."
"But it's so pretty!" Rachel insisted, clutching the hanger.
Lucas crouched to his daughter's level, nodding solemnly. "You're right, princess. It's… very shiny." He glanced up at Bella with a wicked grin. "I think your mom should try it. Just for us."
Bella groaned. "Both of you are impossible."
But of course, she ended up in the trial room anyway, slipping into a few dresses. Each time she stepped out, Lucas was waiting on the couch with Rachel bouncing excitedly beside him.
The first dress was soft lavender, gently fitted at the waist. Lucas tilted his head. "Better. Still a little tight around here," he remarked, gesturing vaguely at her middle.
Bella flushed. "It's not the dress, it's—" She caught herself, realizing what he meant. "You're hopeless."
Rachel clapped. "Mommy looks like a princess!"
The second dress was looser, flowing, and surprisingly comfortable. Before Bella could ask, Lucas said with mock seriousness, "Not bad. But if you're planning to hide from me in that, I'll always find you."
Her ears burned, and she nearly stumbled back into the trial room.
The third outfit was Rachel's pick—the glittery pink star dress. Bella stepped out only halfway, peeking through the curtain.
"I am not walking out in this," she hissed.
Lucas leaned back, arms crossed, lips curving into a grin. "Then I'm coming in to check for myself."
Bella's eyes widened. "Don't you dare—"
Rachel's giggles gave her away, and Bella had no choice but to shuffle out, arms crossed defensively over the glitter.
Lucas let out a low whistle. "Well, that's… sparkly."
Rachel squealed. "So pretty!"
Bella buried her face in her hands, groaning. "I hate both of you."
Lucas chuckled, rising to gently pull the curtain closed for her. "Alright, cara. Go change before you blind the staff."
Eventually, Bella settled on a few stylish but comfortable dresses, a pair of maternity jeans, and a soft cardigan. Lucas paid without hesitation, ignoring her half-hearted protests.
As they walked out, Rachel swung their joined hands. "That was fun! Mommy, you should always shop with me and Dada."
Bella glanced at Lucas, who was watching her with that lazy smile that said he was enjoying her fluster far too much. She looked away quickly, muttering, "Next time, I'm going alone."
"Sure," Lucas said smoothly. "But you'll miss my expert opinions."
Her lips twitched despite herself. "Expert in what? Annoying me?"
"Exactly."
Rachel giggled again, and Bella sighed. There was no winning against the two of them.