Page 34 of Lavender and Lightning

“It’s so… quiet,” Lydia whispers after a long stretch.

“Like we’re the only ones for miles,” I agree with a happy sigh.

Lydia’s shoulders rise and relax as she takes a deep breath, and we fall into silence again. This isn’t my only bolt hole, as Lucas likes to call them, but it’s by far my favorite. I bought this place shortly after Seth ruined most of Everton for me, using it as an excuse to be away from home for long stretches of time. Now I rent the place out for vacationers. I’d made sure the schedule was clear for this weekend a few weeks ago, thinking that it would be nice to have some time alone with Lydia after she settled into the pack. But after the insane couple of weeks we’ve had, this was a blessed relief.

Once Lydia turns back to me, I take her hand and lead her into the house. I flick on the lights of the main living space and feel at ease. The open kitchen, dining, and living room are full of worn, comfortable furniture, the color palette neutral and calming. There’s a fireplace in the left corner, across from some stairs leading up to the bedrooms on the second floor.

The kitchen has been stocked with some basics, so Lydia and I work together to assemble a simple supper of pasta and frozen meatballs. We move around each other effortlessly without the need to speak, and I can’t help the smile that seems permanently fixed to my face. Everything with Lydia feels so easy. We talk about anything and everything, laughing at each other’s silly jokes. It’s not hard to picture this five, ten years into the future. We’d come here with the pack, and maybe even kids. Lucas would complain that the kitchen is too small, but he would secretly love the challenge. Lex would curl up by the windows, and Rhett would be playing with the kids on the floor. Lydia and I would be in the thick of things, enjoying the time spent with all of us together.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I look up from my plate to see Lydia looking at me, curiosity shining in her bright green eyes. I push a meatball around for a minute as I try to collect my thoughts.

“Just thinking about the pack, and us, the future, stuff like that,” I say after a minute.

“Oh? Anything specific?” she asks, leaning forward to prop an elbow on the table and rest her chin against her fist.

I shrug, face heating slightly. “I guess I was just thinking about… what it would be like to be a family. To have a family.”

She hums slightly, taking another bite of her pasta. It gives me a bit of relief that she’s not rejecting the idea outright.

“Rhett would be a great dad,” she says after a while.

Chuckling, I nod my agreement. “Have you ever thought about it? Having kids? Being a parent?”

Her face falls slightly and I almost tell her to forget I even asked, but she looks at me with so much emotion in her eyes that I can’t find words to speak.

“When I was with Darren, my life was sort of… planned out. There’s an old saying that girls like me, omegas like me, don’t go to college to get a BA or a BS. We go to get an M-R-S degree. After I ran, I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone that would make me feel… would make me want that sort of life,” she says, speaking slowly and picking her words carefully.

I reach across the distance between us, taking her hand and threading my fingers through hers. The sadness and pain in her voice makes my heart ache.

“My parents weren’t as obvious with their expectations, but growing up, there was a lot of pressure to be a certain way. My older brother, Gio, he sort of set the mold for what I was supposed to be. Anytime I stepped outside of the footprints he laid, my life was miserable. So when I met Rhett and his family and saw that life could be different, my parents started tightening their chokehold on me.”

I trail off as I remember those days, when my eyes finally opened to the abuse I’d been subjected to every time my parents thought I stepped out of line. The guilt trips, the gaslighting, withholding their love as a form of punishment. Having Sarah Cooper-Nolan in my life showed me how a parent is supposed to treat their child: with unconditional love and support. She never once hesitated in treating me like one of her own, and didn’t even blink when I showed up on their doorstep with the three duffle bags that held everything I owned, heart in pieces after my family finally gave up on me and kicked me to the curb.

“Family isn’t the people who share your blood. It’s the people who are there for you when no one else is, who see all of your flaws and still stick by you. That’s what this means.” I break off, leaning back to tap at the spot on my ribs where the pack motto is tattooed. “Lex, Rhett, Lucas, and I chose each other, and we’ve chosen you, too. If family means half a dozen kids between us, or just the five of us sticking together until we’re old and gray, then that’s what I want.”

Lydia gives me a watery smile and squeezes my hand once before letting go and turning back to her food. She’s quiet for a long time, and I watch her as we finish eating and cleaning up the dishes. Her green eyes are distant, like she’s lost in thought. I want to ask what’s on her mind, but I can’t bring myself to do it. As I’m setting the last plate in the drying rack, Lydia slides up behind me, pressing her face to my spine and holding me tight around the middle.

“Thank you for choosing me, Matty. For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a great dad, too.”

My heart does a series of back handsprings, my lips pulling upward into a grin. I turn in her embrace, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. She looks up at me with such open vulnerability and I can hardly stand it. I lean down and slant my lips over hers, not pushing for more than just a tender expression of how much her words mean to me. When I pull away, I brush a bit of her hair away from her face with the backs of my fingers.

“If it’s something you want, I think you’d make a great mom, Lydia,” I reply softly.

She leans into my touch as I cup the side of her face, her eyelids falling closed as she takes a deep, contented breath. She opens her mouth to speak, but then stops suddenly with a yawn. I chuckle and brush my thumb against her cheek.

“Come on, sleepy. Let’s go to bed,” I say, soft but playful.

She looks like she’s going to fight, but thankfully, she relents with a nod. I kiss her hairline tenderly before extracting myself from her arms and taking her hand. I lead Lydia past the kitchen island, down a short hallway into the master suite.

The room is decorated in the same neutral tones as the rest of the house, but it still feels homey and lived in. I set the bags down on the bench at the foot of the massive four-poster bed, then turn to find Lydia looking around in sleepy wonder. She lets me guide her out of her clothes and into a tank top and sleep shorts. I try to keep my mind from wandering, but I feel a jolt run up my arm and straight to my cock every time my fingers brush along her creamy skin. The bruising on her chest is much better now, with only patches of yellow and green left. The bruising on her knees has completely vanished, and the stitches from the surgery to set her broken arm are healed, leaving only faint pink marks.

My stomach still clenches with rage when I see the scars on her stomach and the back of her left shoulder. The places where her ex tried to force a bond mark onto her. The marks on her stomach are no more than puckered lines of scar tissue and the one on her back is an angry red divot where the flesh was torn away, but the sight of them makes me want to join Rhett in his plan to remove that waste of oxygen from the world. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as my omega, let alone look at her or touch her ever again.

My omega.

The thought brings a surge of warmth to my soul that helps to quell the murderous intent in my heart. Lydia is mine, and I’m hers. I’ve known it for a while, but I haven’t found the right time to tell her. She deserves so much; roses and candles and chocolate and romance. She didn’t need the burden of my feelings when she’s dealing with my vengeful ex.

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