Becoming Mrs. Blackwood

~ NATHAN ~

I stood in the kitchen doorway for longer than I meant to. Kim hadn't noticed me. She was completely absorbed in what she was doing. So focused that she hadn't heard my footsteps at all.

I'd only come to check on her because curiosity wouldn't let me sit still. I told myself it was only going to be for a minute.

But the moment I saw her, I was rooted to the spot.

The sight of Kim wearing an apron was...unexpected, pleasant. Shocking.

She stood by the counter, seasoning meat with an ease that caught me off guard. She chopped the herbs with practiced precision, looking so relaxed, so at peace, like she belonged there.

She was actually cooking.

The realization hit me in a way that left me utterly stunned. Because the truth was, Kimberly Hayes hated kitchens. She avoided them the way some people avoided bad memories.

She'd once told me that cooking felt like a waste of time and energy when there were chefs and restaurants available for that. I'd simply laughed it off, accepting it as just another part of who she was.

But this... This was something else.

This Kim looked relaxed soiling her hands in the kitchen. She looked confident. At home. Almost...happy.

I leaned against the doorframe now, folding my arms as I studied her more closely. She was still oblivious to my presence, and I found myself strangely grateful for those stolen minutes.

She'd mentioned she was taking cooking classes. A faint smile curved my mouth at the thought. Whoever had inspired this transformation deserved a medal. Because I loved what I was seeing. Not because I expected it of her-I never had-but because it showed real effort on her part. A willingness to meet me halfway in ways I hadn't known I needed.

I'd always loved a homely woman. But I'd fallen in love with Kim knowing she was far from that. Rather, she was ambitious, career-driven, fiercely independent-qualities I admired deeply.

Her career as a beauty and lifestyle influencer meant everything to her, and I respected that. Respected her independent nature, the reason why she hadn't immediately jumped at the idea of moving into this house-one of Blackwood properties. She'd been perfectly content with remaining in her old place, which was smaller-but in my opinion not good enough for the woman I love.

Now here she was, in the kitchen, cooking for me.

Something about that made my heart swell with pride, with love and desire as my gaze drifted over her, tracing the familiar curves of her body. The gentle sway of her hips as she shifted her weight to one leg. The soft roundness of her backside. The fullness of her breasts beneath the fabric of her dress.

Every inch of her stirred something deep and primal in me. Heat curled low in my stomach. I inhaled slowly, reminding myself to behave.

That was when she sensed me.

She turned sharply, knife still in hand, eyes wide with surprise.

I smiled, pushed away from the doorframe and walked over to her. Gently, I took the knife from her fingers and set it aside.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" She looked uncomfortable.

"Long enough to..." I murmured, sliding a hand around her waist and pulling her up against my chest, "realize just how much I've been missing this view."

My gaze dipped deliberately, and she knew exactly what I meant. Her body pressed into mine, soft and warm, and I hardened instantly.

"As much as what you're cooking already looks delicious..." I whispered, kissing her lips, "I think I'd rather...have you for lunch."

I felt her body stiffen instantly.

"Nate-"

I didn't let her finish. I kissed her, slowly, deeply, letting her taste the heat I'd been holding back for a long time now.

"I've missed you," I said quietly.

"I've missed you too, but-" She gasped as she felt my arousal. Her hands came up instinctively as she tried to pull away from my wandering hands and demanding mouth. "I-I don't think the food would...forgive us if I...abandon it at this point."

It took all the effort in me to let her go when all I wanted to do was to peel her out of that dress.

"Relax, love," I said lightly, masking my disappointment. "I'm just teasing. I haven't forgotten our agreement-no sex until the wedding night."

Sometimes it still surprised me that a woman like Kimberly was still a virgin at twenty-five. She didn't strike me as old-fashioned. If she hadn't told me herself, I would never have believed it.

But it explained her boundaries, explained why she was so firm about waiting. Why she never gave in, no matter how heated things got between us. And it only made me respect her more.

Relief washed over her face now. Her shoulders eased, tension draining from her body as though she'd been holding her breath.

For a split second, her reaction made me pause as I wondered. Was it just me, or was she unusually tense today?

Before I could examine the thought, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

"Thank you for understanding, Nathie-bear."

Nathie-bear.

That little nickname she reserved just for me had a way of unravelling me. Or maybe it was the way she said it now, in that husky voice very close to my mouth.

I caught her shoulders as she tried to move away, holding her there a moment longer.

Leaning in, my lips brushed her ear as my voice dropped to a murmur.

"For now...I'll behave. But on our wedding night, every inch of you will be mine to explore. And I won't hold back."

She blushed, her body tensing again beneath my hands. I felt it, the instinctive reaction she tried to hide. And instead of questioning it, I found myself enjoying it.

The nervousness, the way she trembled and shied away from meeting my gaze. It only made me more eager.

Seven days. I smiled to myself, counting. Just seven days to the wedding.

The wait would be worth it.