Page 65 of Stuffed

"How right this feels." I wrap my arms around her from behind, watching the sun paint golden patterns across our living room. "You, here. Making my space ours. Making everything better."

"Even your cat?"

"Especially my cat." I rest my chin on her head. "Though he's definitely our cat now."

"Our cat. Our home. Our life." The words sound like music coming from her lips.

"Say that again."

"Our life?"

"All of it." I turn her to face me. "I love hearing you claim things as ours."

She rises on her toes, pressing soft kisses to my jaw. "Our bed." Kiss. "Our kitchen." Another kiss. "Our future."

I groan, deepening the kiss until we're both breathless. "The office can definitely wait."

"But—"

A loud crash from the living room interrupts us. We rush out to find Espresso sitting innocently beside a toppled box of her books.

"Really?" I ask him. "Now?"

The cat just blinks at us before starting to bat one of her paperbacks across the floor.

"I guess that's our cue to actually finish unpacking." She laughs, bending to retrieve the scattered books.

"Our cat is a menace," I grumble, but I help her organize the volumes onto our shelves.

We spend the morning integrating our lives—her colorful throw pillows softening my leather furniture, her photos joining mine on the walls, her coffee mugs nestled beside my precise collection of matching ones. Each item finds its place naturally, like they were always meant to be here.

"Look what I found." She pulls something from a box, grinning. It's an old photo of us from high school—a group shot with Asher, Ivy, several other kids, and me leaning against my car trying to look tough, her in her cheerleading uniform pretending not to watch me.

"God, I was trying so hard back then." I laugh, wrapping my arms around her. "If only that kid could see us now."

"He'd probably run screaming." She turns in my embrace. "The big bad Zane Mercer, domesticated by a cheerleader and a cat?"

"Best thing that ever happened to me." I kiss her softly. "Though I draw the line at matching Christmas sweaters."

"Too late." She pulls away with a wicked grin. "Already ordered them for next year. Even got one for Espresso."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." She dances away as I reach for her. "What happened to that reputation you were so worried about protecting?"

I catch her around the waist, pulling her back against my chest. "Worth ruining for you. Everything is worth it for you."

She turns serious suddenly, touching my face. "You know I love all of you, right? Not just the softer side you show me now, but every part. Even the brooding CEO who terrifies board members."

"I know." And I do know, that's the miracle of it. She sees all of me—the darkness and the light, the walls and what lies beneath them. And she loves it all.

"Good." She kisses me deeply. "Because you're stuck with me now. No takebacks."

"Promise?" I breathe against her lips.

"Promise." She smiles. "Now help me hang this photo. I think it deserves pride of place—remind us how far we've come."

And as we spend the day making this space truly ours, as Espresso alternates between "helping" and causing chaos, I realize something profound.

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