My eyes tear up as Lukas places a soft kiss on my forehead. I have never felt more cherished than this moment.

After a few seconds, he pulls back and his breathing has returned to normal. He squeezes me tight and then says out of the blue, “I’m making breakfast. Come on.”

Because I like this carefree version of Lukas much more, I say, “Wow, what a nice way to start a Valentine’s Day.”

There’s a twitch in his lips, and he circles my waist. “What else do people do today?”

“Um, flowers”—I raise a finger and then another—“gifts and”—I now have three fingers up in the air. “Sex. Lots and lots of sex.”

He chuckles. “Has my little wife turned into a nympho?” He grabs one of his T-shirts from the hanger and puts it over me before pulling me out of the room. “Come, eat first.”

“I would have loved to come first and eat later.”

He swats my behind. “You’ve become too naughty.”

“What will you do to teach me a lesson?” I jump onto one of the kitchen barstools.

“Teach you a lesson?” His eyebrows jerk up.

My heart does a crazy, happy dance watching his laugh. Lukas puts batter on a waffle maker and finally locks it. “I’ll tie your sweet ass to the bed and not let you come.”

I melt into a puddle, my legs turning wobbly watching Lukas’ smirk. It’s a good thing I’m sitting, otherwise I’d have been on the floor by now.

Before I can tell him it sounds like a perfect punishment, Lukas places a plate with two waffles before me. He drizzles some syrup on top, and next to it, he places a cup of coffee.

“It’s with oat milk. The way you like it.”

“Thank you,” I reply, forgetting about getting tied up, because this is no less perfect.

When I come out of the bathroom after taking a shower, I find Lukas sitting on his bed, waiting for me.

I quickly put on my shoes and throw my sling bag over one shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

But he doesn’t get up, and I notice a small wooden box in his hands. Lukas looks up at me and gives me a smile before tilting his head to the side, asking me to sit beside him. His hands almost shake when he opens the box, and that scares the hell out of me. Lukas Spencer doesn’t do scared.

“This was my mom’s. She liked collecting antique jewelry.”

I nod, because he’s told me about that. He holds my hand, where my wedding ring sits.