You Could Be Mine Bonus Chapter
The scent of coffee and cinnamon filled the O’Malley kitchen long before the first streaks of dawn climbed over the ocean. Olivia O’Malley moved easily through the space, barefoot and relaxed, her hair twisted into a messy knot as she poured pancake batter into a bowl.
“Mommy, can I stir?” a small voice piped from behind her.
She turned, smiling down at Maisie, their child, who stood clutching her favorite spoon like a priceless relic.
“You can stir,” Olivia said, passing her the bowl. “But remember—gentle this time.”
Maisie nodded solemnly, as if she were being trusted with the fate of breakfast itself.
Aiden’s voice came from behind them, low and husky from sleep. “You’re both up early.”
He padded into the kitchen, barefoot, his auburn hair tousled, a shadow of stubble on his jaw. As he leaned past Olivia for a kiss, his hand brushed her hip—an unconscious, familiar touch that still sent a shiver down her spine.
“Someone promised pancakes,” Olivia teased, nodding toward Maisie.
“Lucky kid,” he murmured. “I got cereal.”
“You also got me.”
Aiden grinned, voice warm. “Best trade I ever made.”
Before Olivia could answer, a crash echoed from the living room.
“I did it!” their toddler Morgan yelled.
Aiden grimaced. “That can’t be good.”
He disappeared around the island, returning moments later with Morgan in one arm and a half-toppled Lego tower in the other. “Gravity check,” he announced.
Olivia laughed. “At least the laws of physics still work.”
The morning rolled forward in a blur of syrup and laughter, the kind of chaos that felt like joy. The sunlight spilled across the countertops, glinting in Aiden’s hair—now streaked faintly with gray. To Olivia, he looked more beautiful than ever.
Sometimes, she still couldn’t believe this was her life. Once upon a time, it had been just her and her classroom—quiet evenings, longings she never dared to name. Now, she woke to sticky fingers tugging at her apron strings and Aiden’s lips on her neck.
She glanced at him as he helped Maisie pour syrup over her pancakes. His shoulders moved easily, his laugh low and warm, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly right.
When Aiden caught her staring, his mouth quirked into that familiar, teasing smile.
“Mommy’s smiling weird again,” Maisie whispered.
Olivia laughed, cheeks flushed. “That’s because Daddy’s making faces at me.”
Aiden winked. “Can’t help it. Your mom’s hot when she’s in pancake mode.”
“Aiden,” she whispered, shaking her head, but her voice was soft, her smile brighter than she meant it to be.
When he set her coffee mug beside her, his fingers brushed hers, a spark of connection lighting her skin. Even after all these years, the smallest touch from him still felt electric.
By late afternoon, Aiden stood behind the bar at O’Malley’s, the familiar hum of conversation rising around him. The place had changed since he’d left—expanded, polished, but still the same heartbeat of Baxter Bay, thanks to his sister Breena’s hard work.
Jensen worked the floor while on summer break, his easy charm keeping the regulars happy. Watching his son behind the counter filled Aiden with a kind of pride he didn’t often say aloud.
He’d lived a lot of lives in this town—bartender, architect, widower, single father—but this one, the man who came home to Olivia and their children, was his favorite.
He’d thought happiness had passed him by long ago. Then Olivia walked back into his life, steady and strong, and little by little, she’d rebuilt what he thought was broken beyond repair.
When he finally locked up and drove home, the house was full of laughter and the faint smell of chocolate. Morgan ran into his legs before he’d even shut the door.
“Daddy!” the boy squealed.
Maisie sat at the kitchen island, coloring a birthday card for Gigi. Jensen lounged on the couch, earbuds in. And Olivia—God, Olivia—stood at the counter grading papers, glasses perched on her nose, hair falling over one shoulder.
She looked up, eyes soft and full of that quiet affection that still leveled him. “Hey, handsome.”
He crossed the kitchen and kissed her, slow and deep, until Jensen groaned from the couch. “Seriously? I’m right here.”
Olivia laughed against his mouth. “You started this when you were little,” she reminded him.
Maisie giggled. Morgan yelled, “Kiss again!”
Aiden grinned. “The people have spoken.”
She swatted at him, but her laughter was warm, and when he caught her gaze, he saw everything he’d ever wanted reflected back—love, safety, forever.
That night, after bedtime stories and toddler negotiations, they found themselves on the back deck. The ocean rolled beyond the dunes, steady and sure.
Olivia leaned into Aiden, her head against his shoulder, their fingers laced together. The moonlight turned her skin silver.
“I love this time of night,” she murmured.
“Me too.” His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist. “You thinking about work again?”
“Maybe,” she admitted, smiling faintly. “I’m just...remembering.”
“What are you remembering?”
Her gaze lifted to the dark horizon, then back to him. “Everything we built.”
The wind stirred her hair, carrying the salt of the sea and the faint music of waves against the shore.
Aiden’s heart tightened. “We’ve come a long way, Liv.”
She nodded. “We could have missed this.”
He smiled, his voice a low whisper. “But we didn’t.”
Olivia turned toward him, eyes soft and luminous in the moonlight. He cupped her face in his hands, and when their lips met, it wasn’t the desperate fire of new love—it was deeper, steadier, but no less consuming.
The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, the kind that said everything words couldn’t: I see you. I choose you. Still.
When he pulled back, his voice was rough. “You’re still my miracle.”
Her smile trembled. “And you’re mine.”
They stayed like that for a long time, the ocean whispering around them, the life they’d built glowing warmly through the kitchen windows behind them.
Every laugh, every scar, every soft kiss had led here—to this quiet, perfect moment where the world felt small enough to hold in their hands.
And as Aiden drew her close again, the future stretched out before them—wide, bright, and utterly theirs.