Empire of Desire(Empire #1)(109)

I command Alexa to turn on the light, and all the breaths I’ve been holding instantly deflate out of me when I read the words written in Nate’s beautiful, distinctive handwriting.

The twins are with me and King in the garden. Sleep in and don’t worry about anything.

P.S. Happy birthday, baby girl. I have plans for us as soon as I kick your father out. In the meantime, I left you an early birthday gift on the bedside table.

All fear about my babies’ safety vanishes and it’s replaced by furious warmth for their father. Just how the hell did I end up with this man? Every day, I wake up more in awe of him than the day before.

My gaze falls on the box on the bedside table and when I open it, I find a photo album inside. The first page has a picture Dad took of me and Nate while we each held one of the twins. My face is filled with happy tears and Nate is kissing my forehead.

Our first family picture.

Before I can get all emotional, I spot a folded piece of paper on the album’s jacket. My fingers are a bit unsteady as I open it and instantly recognize his handwriting.



Gwyneth,

I met you the day you were born.

King freaked out when he found a baby at his doorstep and thought it was a good idea to call in his nemesis for crisis control.

Truth be told, I planned to make fun of him and his carelessness, but when I got to his house, you were crying your head off and he was flustered until I told him you were probably hungry.

He pushed you in my arms and flew to the kitchen like a madman. It was the first time I held a baby and it was pretty awkward at best, but then something happened.

You stopped crying.

Just like that.

You stared at me with those colorful, inquisitive eyes that somehow pierced through my chest.

Since then, you have always held a special place in my life. I might not have been a doting uncle, but I believed that I cared about you as much as King did. Which is why I made sure no one bullied you or gave you a hard time. Sort of like I did with my nephew.

But you ruined that six years ago.

When you kissed me on your eighteenth birthday.

When you got on your tiptoes, ignored all common sense, and crashed your lips to mine as if you’ve been waiting your whole life to do it.

In that single moment, you demolished every picture I had of you. Instead of being like my nephew, you planted other images in my head. Images I shouldn’t have entertained for my best friend’s much younger daughter.

I shouldn’t have thought about lifting you up in my arms, slamming you against the nearest object and kissing you until you could only breathe me.

But I did.

And I hated you for it.

Not only because I lost the easy relationship I had with you, but also because no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t think of you as King’s daughter anymore.

Those two years were pure fucking torture, baby girl. I struggled so much between doing the right thing and taking you anyway. It’s why I avoided being in the same room with you; I couldn’t trust myself not to fuck up everything and hurt King. Especially since I had no idea how deep my feelings for you were.

However, once you became my wife, my self-control spiraled out of control. I blame your lively energy that I was never allowed to have and your determination that can break stones.

Even one as solid as me.

You didn’t only break me in, but you also mended all the broken parts together again. You did it carefully and with so much love that I can’t imagine my existence without you anymore.

Without your cheerfulness.

Without your empathy.

You added colors to my life that are as bright as the ones in your eyes. Every day I wake up to those eyes and your contagious smile, I feel like the luckiest bastard alive.

Thank you for choosing me.

For not giving up on me.

For being my wife and the mother of my children.



Love,

Nathaniel



A tear slides down my cheek by the time I finish reading.

Is it possible to fall in love with someone all over again? Because I think I just did. I’m so irrevocably into this man that it scares the shit out of me sometimes.

He said he can’t imagine his life without me, but it’s no different for me. I can’t picture a world where he isn’t in the middle of it.

I can’t picture a world where he’s not my husband and the father of my children.

Carefully tucking the letter into the photo album, I place it on the nightstand and get out of bed. I do a quick work of freshening up and wearing the first pair of shorts, tank top, and sneakers I find, then I run outside.

I find Nate holding Lily while standing up, and Dad sitting down, rocking Logan as he sucks on a baby bottle.

The view of my babies never gets old. I think I fall in love with them more every time I see them. They’re so small and innocent and I want to give them my life.

And the reason I have them is right there, appearing larger than the world, as always.

Nate is wearing black slacks and a white button-down that accentuates his muscular frame. I swear the man has been getting even more handsome over the years. It should be illegal for someone in their forties to look so deliciously attractive, but I’m not really complaining.

He’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and he will always be.

I jog to him, wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him and Lily, then I get on my tiptoes and kiss him. He holds our daughter with one hand and pulls me to him with the other, deepening the kiss.