TERESA'S P.O.V.
Lucian was grinning like a two-year-old about to pull off the prank of the century. His hands rested on his massive oak desk, but his fingers twitched with excitement. I leaned against the office doorframe, watching him with an amused smirk as our children Mai and Ollie, raced around the room, shrieking and giggling as if they were in a playground.
"You're going to burst if you keep holding it in," I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.
"I'm not holding anything in," he replied, the corner of his lips twitching as though he were fighting a losing battle against his grin.
"Lucian Blackwood," I said, stepping closer and lowering my voice conspiratorially. "If you smile any wider, you'll scare Rylan right back out of this office."
