Chapter 45: Chapter 45
A few rows away, the orphanage children had gathered at the front of the dining hall, lining up in neat rows. Sister Clara clapped her hands brightly, announcing that the children had prepared a small performance as a special way to say thank you to Lane, Noah, Ava, and the Blackwood family for everything they had done.
The kids began to sing a sweet, synchronized melody. The pure innocence of their voices echoing through the hall was incredibly moving, and it didn’t take long for the atmosphere in the room to get deeply emotional. Being pregnant made Lane feel entirely more sensitive than usual, and as she watched the smiling faces of the children, she found herself tearing up easily all over again.
Lane’s gaze dropped to her own hand resting on her thigh, trying to quietly steady her emotions, when she suddenly felt a warm, firm touch wrap over her fingers. She blinked rapidly through her tears, looking down to see Ethan’s large hand completely covering hers.
He opened his wide palm and gently placed a clean handkerchief right into her hand. Lane stared at their joined hands for a heartbeat, her pulse spiking at the sudden closeness, before she slowly looked up at him.
Their eyes met instantly.
"Wipe your tears, Lane," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a deep, quiet baritone that was meant for her ears alone.
She gripped the fabric tight, her throat tightening. "T-thank you," she stammered, mentally kicking herself for the stutter.
She pulled her hand away and looked away quickly, her face burning. After glancing down at the soft fabric, she lifted it to gently dab away the stray tears on her cheeks.
She bit her lower lip as the subtle, masculine scent of his expensive cologne clung heavily to the handkerchief, completely taking over her senses and making her heart beat erratically.
She forced her focus back to the front of the room as the children finished their performance.
Once the final notes of the song ended, everyone in the hall stood up to give the kids a loud, resounding round of applause, with Ethan joining in beside her.
The children didn’t leave the dining hall right away. A few of the orphanage staff stepped in to guide them into an orderly line. Aunt Catherine had quietly prepared special gifts for every single one of them—brand new backpacks and school supplies for their upcoming classes.
Lane, Noah, Ava, and Ethan all pitched in, standing side by side to help hand out the heavy bags. Every single time they handed a bag to a child, they were met with a huge, gap-toothed smile and a chorus of enthusiastic thank-yous.
"Hi, Miss Lane!"
Lane looked down over the counter at the small child who had just spoken. A bright, genuine smile tugged at her lips when she saw Lily, a sweet little girl who was known as the resident crybaby of the orphanage because she was always crying for the parents who had abandoned her when she was just a toddler.
"And hey, Sir Noah," Lily added, waving her small hand to greet him too. Her smile grew even wider when she looked back toward Lane. "Hi, Miss Lane!"
"Hi, Lily," Lane said softly, leaning over the counter. "How have you been?"
"I’m okay," Lily said, her big eyes looking curious. "Why haven’t you guys come to visit us lately?"
"Oh, sorry, Lily. We’ve just been really busy," Lane replied gently, her heart aching a little.
"And Lane is pregnant, so we haven’t been able to get out as much," Ava added from a few steps away, offering a playful wink.
"Pregnant?" Lily asked Ava, her head tilting to the side.
"Your Miss Lane is going to have a baby, Lily," Ava explained with a warm smile.
Lily’s eyes went completely wide as she snapped her attention back to Lane, her mouth forming a perfect ’O’.
"Is there really a baby in your tummy?" she asked, pointing her tiny finger directly at Lane’s stomach.
Lane couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. She reached down, her palm smoothing over the fabric of her dress to gently touch her belly. "Yes, there’s a baby in here," she said, her voice full of profound love as she caressed her stomach.
"So, is Sir Noah the daddy?" Lily asked innocently, looking back and forth between Noah and Lane.
Lane’s smile froze instantly. She realized the little girl had naturally assumed Noah was the father, since the two of them were always here together. She couldn’t really blame the child; whenever they visited the facility together, outsiders always mistook them for a couple.
Lane nervously glanced sideways, and she instantly felt Ethan’s jaw clench tightly beside her. His entire expression turned ice-cold, his dark eyebrows knitting together into a single, lethal line when he heard Noah let out a light, amused laugh at the child’s sudden question.
Ethan clearly didn’t appreciate the assumption, and he liked Noah’s casual, laughing reaction even less. Instead of correcting the little girl, Noah was just standing there, letting the implication hang in the air.
Lane quickly bit her lip, turning back to the little girl to smooth things over before Ethan could explode. "He’s not the daddy, Lily," she said gently.
Lily blinked, looking even more confused. "Does the baby have a different daddy?"
Lane shook her head, her voice steady. "The baby only has one father, Lily."
"Well, who is he?" the girl asked, her loud voice drawing the attention of the nearby staff.
Lane opened her mouth, about to answer, when Ethan suddenly stepped forward, his massive frame completely cutting off the space between them.
"I’m the father," Ethan said.
His voice was dead serious, completely devoid of hesitation, and his handsome face didn’t move an inch.
Lily blinked up at him, and a look of pure, unadulterated fear washed over her tiny face. She looked up at Ethan’s towering height and intense, unblinking stare, clearly terrified by his sheer presence. "W-what?"
"He’s the father, Lily," Lane said quickly, stepping in to smooth things over and calm the child down. "This is Sir Ethan."
Instead of saying anything else, Lily nervously reached out and tugged tightly on the hem of Lane’s dress. Lane knew that specific move well; it was what the little girl did whenever she felt intimidated.
Lane immediately leaned down, getting right on the little girl’s eye level to comfort her.
Lily leaned in close, attempting to whisper directly into Lane’s ear.
"The baby’s daddy is scary, Miss Lane. I wish Sir Noah was the daddy. He’s nice and not scary at all."
Lane’s eyes went wide. Lily hadn’t actually whispered; she had spoken at a totally normal, clear volume. Lane was absolutely certain that everyone within a five-foot radius had heard her perfectly.
A second later, Ava let out a loud, completely uncontrolled burst of laughter from the side.
Lane snapped her head around, glaring warningly at her friend.
Ava quickly stopped laughing, slapping a hand over her mouth, but her shoulders were shaking as she clearly struggled to keep a straight face.
When Lane finally stood back up and looked over at Ethan, her mouth fell open. He had a look on his sharp face that she couldn’t even begin to describe—a mixture of deep, bruised irritation, stunned silence, and absolute disbelief.
The journey back from the orphanage was wrapped in a tense, exhausting silence, and by the time Ethan’s car pulled up to the estate, Lane felt entirely drained. Between the heavy emotional weight of the day, the relentless pregnancy fatigue, and the unspoken friction still crackling between Ethan and Noah, her mind was spinning.
She had gone straight to their room, slipping out of her maternity dress and falling into a deep, dreamless sleep the second her head hit the pillow.
But a few hours later, consciousness slowly crept back.
Waking up in the pitch-black room, Lane felt her stomach growling aggressively. She reached over to check her phone on the nightstand, squinting against the harsh glare of the screen—it was already one in the morning.
For a few minutes, she lay perfectly still, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger and force herself back to sleep. But her pregnant body had other plans.
She knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn’t be able to drift off again without a snack.
Sighing softly, Lane prepared to push the heavy duvet aside. But as she started to get up, she suddenly froze.
Something thick, heavy, and unyielding was wrapped securely around her waist.
Her breath hitched in her throat. She looked down through the dim shadows of the room and blinked in sheer surprise, seeing a large, powerful hand holding her close against a solid mattress.
He was spooning her from behind. It was only then, as the fog of sleep fully cleared, that she noticed his warm, rhythmic breath fanning softly against the back of her neck.
Her heart started thumping erratically against her ribs. She stayed completely still for a long, agonizing moment, her mind racing as she tried to process the sudden intimacy.
Slowly, tentatively, she reached down and touched his hand, intending to gently move his arm so she could slip away.
But just as her fingers brushed his skin, Ethan shifted in his sleep. Instead of letting go, his grip tightened instinctively, pulling her even closer into his solid frame. Lane’s back pressed flush against the broad firmness of his chest, and she was instantly enveloped by the intoxicating heat of his body and the faint, lingering scent of his expensive cologne.
She held her breath, waiting a few agonizing seconds for his breathing to even out completely before attempting to escape a second time. Slowly and with agonizing care, she lifted his large hand, ensuring she didn’t wake him.
A quiet sigh of relief slipped past her lips when she finally managed to slide out of his embrace and slip out of bed.
Before walking away, she gently tucked a plush pillow into the middle of the mattress just in case he reached out for something to hug again in his sleep. She carefully straightened his blanket, smoothed down her messy hair, and quietly headed out into the dark hallway.
The estate was profoundly quiet as Lane made her way downstairs. Stepping into the expansive kitchen, she flipped on the overhead light, the bright illumination making her wince for a fraction of a second before she went straight for the massive refrigerator.
She didn’t even have to look through the shelves; she already knew exactly what she wanted. The craving from earlier had twisted into something specific and intense—she was desperately craving Lo Mein. Her mouth practically watered just thinking about all those savory, seasoned sautéed vegetables and tender meat tossed perfectly into warm, glistening noodles.
Discovering there weren’t any leftovers in the fridge, she decided to simply whip some up herself. It was an easy enough dish to make from scratch, and the estate’s kitchen was always meticulously stocked with fresh ingredients.
Lane gathered the vegetables from the crisper, setting up a cutting board near the sink, and started washing and peeling. She was completely focused on her task, carefully working her way around a fresh carrot, when a deep, unexpected voice directly behind her cut through the silence of the kitchen.
"What are you doing?"
Startled, Lane jumped, her hand slipping violently. The sharp edge of the vegetable peeler sliced right into her index finger.
"Ow!" Lane winced sharply, biting her lower lip as a bright bead of blood instantly began to well up on the fresh cut.
She spun around, cradling her hand, only to find Ethan standing tall in the kitchen doorway. He was wearing nothing but loose low-rise sweatpants, his dark hair messy from sleep, and his brow was deeply furrowed as he watched her.
His intense gaze instantly dropped to her injured hand. Seeing him look, Lane quickly hid it behind her back, trying to minimize the accident.
But it was too late. Ethan’s eyebrows knit together instantly until they practically formed a straight, lethal line across his forehead.
"Do you... need something?" she asked hesitantly, her voice small in the quiet room.
Instead of answering her, Ethan didn’t say a single word. He turned on his heel and walked right out of the kitchen.
Lane pouted slightly, feeling a bit stung and rejected at being left completely alone after he had caused her to cut herself. She held up her bleeding finger, stared at the stubborn red bead for a second, and then turned back to the sink, turning on the cold water to wash it off.
She was still standing over the running water when she heard heavy, deliberate footsteps returning down the hallway. She turned her head and saw Ethan walking back into the space, a compact first aid kit held firmly in his hand.
Her heart started racing double-time when he walked straight over to her. Without asking for permission, he took her wrist, gently pulling her hand away from the running water. He led her across the kitchen, pulled out a chair at the dining table, and sat her down before taking the seat right beside her.
Lane couldn’t take her eyes off his face as he focused intently on the medical kit. He snapped it open, efficiently grabbing the antiseptic wipes and supplies needed to treat the shallow cut.
He looked incredibly serious, his sharp brow still heavily furrowed as he worked with meticulous care. Every single time Lane flinched from the sharp sting of the antiseptic, Ethan instinctively paused, leaning forward to gently blow a cool breath over her finger to dull the pain.
To Lane, the small, incredibly tender gesture felt like a warm hand was gently caressing her heart.
When he finally finished cleaning the cut, he carefully applied a neat bandage around her finger, smoothing down the edges with his thumb. He finally looked up, his dark, bottomless eyes locking tightly onto hers. Lane swallowed hard, completely trapped in his intense gaze.
"Why are you still up, Lane?" Ethan asked, his voice a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated in the quiet kitchen.
"I’m hungry," she replied softly, shifting slightly in her chair.
His forehead creased again in disapproval. When he didn’t say anything immediately, Lane added defensively, "Go back to bed, Ethan. I’ll be up in a minute."
"What do you want to eat?" he asked, completely ignoring her suggestion to leave.
"Huh?"
Ethan repeated the question, his voice firm. "What do you want to eat?"
Once she finally found her voice, she answered honestly. "Lo Mein. But since there isn’t any in the fridge, I was just going to cook some myself."
Without a single word, Ethan stood up from his chair, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the table. "I’ll cook, Lane."
She blinked up at him, totally stunned, her jaw dropping slightly. "I-I’ve got it, Ethan. You have work tomorrow. You need your sleep."
Ethan didn’t listen to her protests at all. He turned away, his broad back muscles rippling as he walked straight over to the prep area where she had left the vegetables. Refusing to just sit there, Lane got up from the table and followed him closely.
"I can do it, Ethan," she insisted, reaching for a knife.
"Let me do this, Lane," he said, turning his head slightly to fix her with a firm, serious look that brooked no argument.
Lane crossed her arms, looking at him skeptically. "Do you even know how?" she asked, a faint trace of amusement cutting through her fatigue.
"No," Ethan admitted bluntly, his face remaining entirely expressionless. "But you can teach me."
Before she could even respond, he picked up the peeler and started peeling and chopping the ingredients with surprisingly steady, deliberate movements. A moment later, he paused, turning to look at her over his shoulder.
"Where are the noodles?"
Lane looked at the chopping board, a soft, sheepish expression crossing her face. "I just want the vegetables and the fixings," she admitted quietly.
Ethan stopped what he was doing and just stared at her, completely motionless.
"That’s what the baby wants to eat," she explained, her voice dropping to a gentle whisper as she instinctively touched her stomach.
Lane noticed a strange, unreadable flicker in his dark eyes at her words, a sudden softening that caught her completely off guard, but he looked away quickly before she could fully figure it out.
"What’s next?" he asked, his tone returning to its usual professional calm after finishing the vegetable prep.
"Sauté everything," she told him, moving a step closer to the stove.
She stood right beside him, walking him through the culinary steps one by one, and Ethan followed her instructions perfectly, adjusting the heat exactly when she told him to. When she noticed he wasn’t stirring the vegetables quite right, making them clump in the center of the pan, she instinctively reached out without thinking.
Lane placed her small hand directly over his large one on the handle of the ladle.
She felt him freeze instantly beneath her touch, his entire posture locking up at the sudden physical contact. But Lane ignored the sudden spike in her own pulse, focusing on the food as she gently guided his hand in a smooth, circular motion, ensuring everything cooked evenly in the sizzling pan.
"This is how you’re supposed to stir it..."
Lane’s voice trailed off into a breathless whisper. When she glanced up from the sizzling pan, she realized with a sudden jolt that Ethan wasn’t looking at the food at all.
He was staring right at her, his dark eyes burning with an intense, unreadable focus. She felt a fierce blush instantly rushing up her neck and warming her cheeks under his heavy gaze. Panic and electricity shot through her veins, causing her to quickly pull her hand away from his and clear her throat in a desperate bid to shatter the suffocating tension.
"I’ll taste it to see if it’s ready," she said a moment later, her voice shaking slightly as she reached for a clean spoon.
She carefully dipped it into the pan, taking a small spoonful of the savory, sautéed mixture.
"How is it?" Ethan asked, his deep voice low and demanding.
"Delicious," she said, the rich flavors perfectly hitting her late-night cravings. Emboldened by the warmth in her chest, she scooped up a bit more and held the spoon directly up to his mouth.
"Here, try it."
Instead of taking the food from the spoon, Ethan’s gaze darkened. He reached out, his large, warm hand wrapping securely around her wrist, and firmly lowered her arm away from his face. Lane’s eyes went completely wide in shock, her breath catching in her throat as he leaned in close, eliminating the remaining distance between them, and pressed his lips capturing hers in a sudden, breathless kiss.
Goosebumps instantly erupted all over her skin when he softly licked her lips, slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring the taste of the savory seasoning and her sweetness himself. The sheer intimacy of it made her knees weak against the kitchen floor.
"You’re right. It’s delicious," Ethan murmured against her skin. His voice was incredibly deep, husky, and thick with an unspoken hunger as he finally pulled back just enough to look her dead in the eye, locking her under his possessive gaze.
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