Her clothes were next to his. It hadn’t taken Mabel long to put her stuff away in his room. Lucas had carried everything, and now she stared at their wardrobe, acutely aware of him standing close by.

This wasn’t a mistake. Even as her nerves were at an all-time high, she didn’t doubt her decision.

“I’m going to go and make breakfast,” Lucas said. He gripped her shoulders, giving her a massage. She was so hungry that her stomach growled.

Lucas chuckled.

He kissed her head. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

She closed the wardrobe and glanced around the room. Some of their stuff had been taken from their own rooms back in town. She spotted a couple of picture frames, and she went to them. Lucas with his father and his friends, Ben and Rupert. A family picture with his brothers and sisters.

Lucas was the eldest by several years, that much she did know.

She sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at the cabinet. Opening the top drawer, she found a photograph album. Pulling it out of the drawer, she stared at the blank front, wondering what it was.

His room was private.

She really shouldn’t open it. Only, she did.

Much to her surprise, a picture of her high school graduation stared right back at her. Why did he have a picture of her? Turning over the page, she was surprised to find more of them. Some of her as a baby, then a toddler. The first day of school. Playing at the park. Then when she’d moved up into high school. She scanned through each one until it must have happened after the mating, because the other pictures were taken at a distance. Some of them were out of focus. A few were close-ups of her face. When she turned to the final picture, this was of her staring out of her bedroom window.

Lucas had taken these, of that, she had no doubt. The others he must have gotten from her parents, but why?

After closing the book, she returned it to the drawer, and then paused as she saw an item of her clothing beneath it.

Lifting it up, she knew it was her shirt. Her scent was faint now.

She put the item back and went in search of Lucas, finding him at the stove, cooking them breakfast.

The shirt he wore was tight across his back and muscular arms. The ink stood out. Those arms had felt wonderful wrapped around her last night. The way he touched her, the feel of him inside her.

She sat down on the available chair at the counter and winced.

Lucas looked toward her with a frown. “Are you, er, sore?”

“It’s fine.”

“Do you want me to run you a bath?”