When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 175

Amelia

The media circus around Robert's life sentence was finally winding down. For a solid week, every headline had been about us: "Thompson Tycoon Gets Life for Drug Trafficking," "Margaret Thompson Found Dead in Prison Cell." I'd read them all feeling weirdly disconnected, like they were talking about some soap opera characters instead of people who shared my DNA.

It had been about a week since everything calmed down, and we'd settled into this nice routine. I'd do my shifts at the hospital, Ethan would deal with his business stuff, and every night we'd have dinner at the Black mansion before heading back to our place by the river.

Lucas had been staying with Catherine at the mansion—those two had bonded like crazy, and it made my heart happy every time I saw them together. She was the grandmother he deserved, the one I never got to have.

Tonight's dinner felt especially relaxed. The staff moved around us smoothly, clearing plates and refilling glasses. I was in the middle of telling Catherine about this complicated delivery I'd handled when George cleared his throat—his classic move before dropping some announcement on us.

"Now that all that mess is behind us," he said, sitting up straighter, "we should talk about your wedding."

I felt Ethan's eyes on me right away, warm and questioning.

"What do you think, Amelia?" he asked quietly. "It's totally up to you."

Before I could answer, George jumped in with an impatient wave. "Wedding planning is every girl's dream! And it takes time to do it right. Let's pick a date tonight."

"Isn't that kind of rushing it?" Ethan asked, his forehead creasing.

George rolled his eyes like Ethan was being ridiculous. "You're such an idiot." He turned to me with this conspiratorial grin. "What do you think, sweetheart? When do you want to do this thing?"

I didn't even hesitate. "How about next week?"

The look on Ethan's face was priceless. "Next week?" he said, his voice going up an octave.

"You heard her," George said smugly, giving Ethan this 'I told you so' look. "Next week it is!"

Ethan started to protest, but George shut him down with a look. "Zip it. This is what Amelia wants."

Ethan's dad, Thomas, raised his glass. "To the bride and groom," he said, and everyone clinked glasses.

George and Thomas immediately went into full wedding-planning mode, bombarding Ethan with questions about venues and guest lists while he looked like a deer in headlights.

I hid my smile behind my wine glass—my Wall Street husband could handle billion-dollar deals, but wedding planning totally stumped him.

Later that night, I leaned against the bathroom doorframe watching Ethan try to bathe both Lucas and Ella at the same time. It was total chaos—Lucas was systematically splashing water everywhere, soaking Ethan's expensive white shirt and dress pants. Ella was shrieking with joy, her wet hair plastered to her face as she helped her brother in what looked like a coordinated water attack.

"Daddy! More bubbles!" she demanded, and Ethan obediently squeezed more bubble bath into the already overflowing tub.

I quietly pulled out my phone and started recording. This was too good—Ethan Black, the guy who made grown men cry in boardrooms, completely drenched and getting owned by two little kids.

Ethan looked up and caught me filming. "Having fun?" he asked dryly, just as Lucas sent another perfect wave of water right at his face.

"Shit!" he sputtered, then immediately looked horrified.

"Daddy said a bad word!" Ella announced happily, clapping her wet hands.

I was dying laughing. "Oh, this is definitely going in the family archives," I told him, still recording as he tried to look dignified while dripping wet.

After the bath disaster, getting the kids to bed was its own adventure. Ella, still wired, was running around the bedroom in her pajamas, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood.

"Ella, bedtime," I said, making a weak attempt to catch her.

"Not tired!" she declared, dodging around me and jumping on the bed like it was a trampoline.

Ethan, who'd gone to change out of his wet clothes, came back and sized up the situation. He smoothly scooped Ella up mid-bounce, spinning her around while she giggled before setting her down on her little bed.

"Even princesses need their beauty sleep," he told her seriously.

Lucas was already in his bed, eyes drooping. I sat next to him, running my fingers through his hair. "Night, buddy," I whispered, kissing his forehead.

It took Ethan another half hour of storytelling before both kids finally crashed. He came into our bedroom afterward, quietly closing the door.

"They're finally down," he sighed, running his hand through his still-damp hair. "I need another shower after that water war."

When he came out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, water still dripping down his chest, his eyes got that look as they traveled over me. "Now that the kids are asleep..." he started, his voice getting husky.

I smiled apologetically. "I'm actually pretty beat tonight," I admitted, feeling the day catching up with me.

Ethan nodded, totally understanding. "Of course." He pulled on pajama pants and got into bed, pulling me against his chest.

We lay there quietly, his fingers drawing little patterns on my arm. "You surprised me today," he said finally. "Next week is really soon for a wedding."

I turned to face him, our noses almost touching. "I picked next week because I can't wait to officially be Mrs. Black," I said, feeling weirdly shy about admitting it.

Something in Ethan's eyes went soft, making my heart do this little flip. "You already are Mrs. Black," he murmured, his hand cupping my cheek. "You have been since the day we met."

I leaned into his touch, kissing his palm. "I know, but I want everyone else to know it too. I want to stand up in front of everyone and choose you, for real. No contracts, no business deals, just us."

His lips found mine, gentle at first, then more urgent. My exhaustion melted away as heat spread through me. Ethan's hands were everywhere, sometimes gentle, sometimes demanding. I pressed into his touch, my body responding to him the way it always did.

"I love you," he whispered against my neck, the words making me shiver.

"Show me," I breathed, and he did, with a passion that left me breathless.

We moved together in the soft light, finding that perfect rhythm that was just ours. Every touch, every kiss felt like discovering something new about each other all over again.

Afterward, lying tangled together with our heartbeats slowly returning to normal, I knew with complete certainty that this—this incredible love wrapped up in everyday moments—was everything I'd ever wanted. Next week couldn't get here fast enough.