Lucas was already getting used to this routine—waking up early, making breakfast, and dropping Rachel off at school. It wasn't something he planned, yet somehow, it fit into his life so naturally that he barely questioned it.
As he drove Rachel to school, he listened to her excited chatter about her classmates. He responded with hums and small comments, but his mind was elsewhere. A few weeks ago, his mornings were different—lonely, quiet, and predictable. Now, they were filled with laughter, warmth, and the scent of breakfast freshly made in his kitchen.
When he arrived back home, he headed toward the bedroom to change into his suit for work. His routine was shifting, but he wasn't sure if he minded. Bella was in the living room when he returned, casually flipping through a book.
He barely glanced at her before walking to the mirror, worried that if he look at her sitting casually on the couch with one leg over the other, he might lose the bit of sanity left. He was adjusting his tie, but the stubborn fabric refused to cooperate, twisting in all the wrong ways. Looks like the luck is definitely not on his side today.
"Need help?" Her voice was soft behind him. Before he could answer, she was already stepping forward, standing close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body. Her delicate fingers replaced his, fixing the tie with ease.
Lucas tried to focus on anything but the way she was so close—the scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her breath near his collarbone, which he knew damn well was only possible when she was standing on her tiptoes.
His hands curled into fists at his sides, resisting the urge to grab her waist and pull her closer. This was nothing. She was just fixing his tie. Then why his body react so damn fast?
"There," she said, stepping back. His jaw clenched. His pulse was slightly erratic, and he was sure she had no idea what she had just done to him.
His eyes dropped to her oversized T-shirt, which was slightly loose around her shoulders, and her shorts—damn those shorts—that revealed far too much of her legs. Not again. He forced himself to drag his gaze away. He needed to leave.
Bella, however, was unbothered. She went into the kitchen and returned with a neatly packed lunch. "Here. I noticed you barely ate breakfast. It's not anything extravagant, just tuna melt sandwitch paired with green salad," she said, handing it to him casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world, totally unaware that the reason he barely ate his breakfast was herself.
Lucas blinked. For a second, he didn't move. No one had ever packed him lunch before. Alright, alright....his mother did but that was when he was still in school.
Women had invited him elaborate meals to impress him, but none of them made it themselves… this was different. This was thoughtful. He won't be lying if he said Bella was the first woman, other than his mother and maids who cooked him food. He took the bag, his fingers brushing against hers for a split second.
"I—" He cleared his throat. "Thanks." Bella smiled at him, completely oblivious to the chaos she was leaving in his mind. Lucas turned toward the door. He needed to get to work. And he definitely needed some distance before he did something reckless.
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Lucas leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand down his face. He needed to focus. Work. He had work to do. But all his brain could do was replay the damn morning in slow motion.
Her hands on his tie.
The scent of her shampoo.
The way her shorts revealed those smooth, bare legs.
He groaned, tilting his head back against the chair. What the hell was wrong with him? She was his wife. But not like that. Their marriage wasn't… that kind of marriage, based on love or something.
But that didn't stop his mind from conjuring up images he had no business imagining—her on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck; her oversized shirt slipping off her shoulder, revealing more of her skin; her pressing against him as he grabbed her by the waist.
Lucas sat up straight, exhaling sharply. Fuck. He was acting like a goddamn pervert. His wife—his pregnant wife—was at home, living her life, probably not even thinking about him this way, and here he was, losing his damn mind over the way she looked in shorts. This was bad. He needed to calm the hell down before he saw her again.
His phone rang, snapping him out of his downward spiral. Seeing Bella's name on the screen, he tensed up. However after hearing Rachel's voice, he exhaled, relieved for the distraction. But then he realised his princess was home, that means it was already afternoon. He can't believe that his entire morning passed with him thinking about Bella.
"Hey, princess," he answered, forcing his voice to be steady. "Dada I'm having lunch. Did you eat your lunch?" Rachel asked casually
He glanced at the lunchbox placed near his files. "Not yet. I was going to eat now."
"Dada! When are you coming home?" she asked excitedly.
Lucas swallowed. "Might be a bit late today, sweetheart." He needed time to pull himself together. If he walked into that house in this state of mind, he might actually go insane.
Rachel huffed. "Why?" Lucas smirked slightly. "Work, baby. Gotta make sure I finish everything." Rachel sighed dramatically. "Okay… but come back soon, okay? Mumma and I will be waiting!"
Lucas's smirk faded. Waiting. He had a home where people were waiting for him. He wasn't sure when that had started meaning something to him. "I'll be home soon," he promised. Hanging up, he stared at his phone for a long moment. He needed to get his act together. Because going home to Bella tonight....that was going to be dangerous.
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Lucas unlocked the door and stepped inside, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension from the long day. But the moment he saw Bella sitting on the couch, wide awake, his brows furrowed. He checked the time. It was late. She should be sleeping by now.
His voice came out sharper than he intended. "Why are you still awake Bella?" Bella turned toward him, her face calm as if she had no idea why he was irritated. "I slept in the afternoon with Rachel. I'm not feeling sleepy yet."
Lucas exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Still, you should—" before he could finish, she stood up. "I'll heat up your food." That made his irritation spike.
His jaw clenched as he followed her into the kitchen, his voice dropping lower. "You didn't eat yet?" Bella paused in front of the fridge, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her lips curved slightly. "I did. With Rachel. I was just waiting to serve your dinner."
Waiting for him. The words hit him in a way he wasn't prepared for. His anger dissipated in an instant, replaced by something he couldn't quite name. He watched her as she busied herself in the kitchen, reheating the food.
His eyes traced the way she moved, the small domesticity of the moment. She had been waiting for him. Even though she didn't have to, even though she could have just left the food for him to take himself—she had still stayed up.
Lucas clenched his fists. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? A dangerous warmth spread through his chest, and he quickly pushed it down. He wasn't going to let his emotions get ahead of him. After realising that Bella is putting efforts to reciprocate his care, he promised to never break her trust.
He will never force her to do something she don't want to. He don't want her to feel uneasy. No matter how much he craved to pull her close. He would never do anything unless she gave him permission.
That was something he silently promised himself right then and there. He will never advance this relationship to that level until Bella agrees. If she ever wanted something more… if she ever looked at him the way he looked at her—he wouldn't hold back.
But until then? He would wait. They can take slow steps to understand each other. His eyes flickered to the door. He needed to take an extra key. If he ever got late again, she wouldn't have to wait up for him like this.
Because even if he didn't understand his own emotions yet—he knew one thing. He didn't want her waiting alone. Ever again.