Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
I hug her tight and look over my shoulder. “Thank you,” I tell Giant. “I owe you big fucking time.”
“Just take care of your woman. I’ll collect from you later.”
After reassuring her that the Pooch Parlor owner is going to take good care of Rufus until tomorrow, I spend the rest of the night reassuring myself that Lana is alive and well. Once we’re both too tired to move a muscle, I lie back and pull her tight against my side. “I fucking love you.” Her delicate scent wraps around me while I run my hands through her soft hair. “And you have to promise you’ll never scare me like that again.”
“That is one promise I’m happy to make.” She places her chin on my chest and smiles at me before taking my hand and laying it against her soft stomach. “But I can’t promise our little one won’t give us both a few scares.”
It takes my mind a few seconds to absorb what she’s telling me. “You mean?” I glance down at her stomach, envisioning our child growing inside her. Unbelievable happiness flows through my soul.
My goddess smiles at me and nods her head. “Yep, you managed to knock me up.”
Fucking hell. I almost fist-bump the air as satisfaction roars through me. “I knew all that extra practice would pay off.” I laugh and roll her over. Leaning over, I kiss the spot under her ear that drives my goddess wild.
She digs her nails into the back of my head while a shiver runs through her curvy body. I run my tongue along her collarbone, and she asks, “Why don’t we practice a little more? Just to make sure.” My smart, sassy, gorgeous goddess is a mind reader. And she’s all fucking mine.
EPILOGUE
LANA
FIVE YEARS LATER
“Mommy!” Eleanor screeches and runs over to me when I walk in the back door. I lean over and kiss our oldest on her cheek as she launches into a play-by-play of her day. “Mary Elizabeth stoled my pink marker, and Mrs. Harper made her give it back.”
“Stole, baby girl, not stoled.” I shake my head as my husband turns from the stove and gently corrects our hardheaded daughter.
“Oh. Okay.” She shakes her head and goes on with her story. “Then Tommy ate a yellow crayon and puked it up onto Jana’s desk.”
“Yuck.” Jordan, our four-year-old daughter, shudders as she listens to her older sister. “Remember, crayons are to color with, not eat.” She points her finger at Eleanor, and my husband turns away so the girls can’t see him laughing. At eleven months apart, the girls act like twins.
He pulls silverware out of the drawer and lays it on the countertop. “Why don’t you girls go set the table while I talk to Mommy.” After the girls grab the silverware and head to the dining room, he pulls me into his arms. “Hello, goddess. How was your day?”
“Busy.” That’s an understatement. I spent the morning with our accountant going over our late rent payments, and then I arranged for a babysitter so I can take my husband to the grand opening of the new restaurant we invested in. “Don’t forget, we have Silver Spoon Brewery’s grand opening Friday night.”
“How could I forget? I get to take my gorgeous wife out for a night on the town.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe we can start working on our next project after the opening.”
“Maybe.” We both know I’m going to give in and try for the little boy my husband is dying to have. “If you’re a good boy.”
“I’m always a good boy.” He smacks my rear end, and I almost self-combust. Our two girls come running back into the room and interrupt us before things get too hot and heavy. My husband gives the girls tasks to do for dinner while I head upstairs to change into comfortable clothes.
After his last season in the AHL, Jensen threw himself into remodeling our home to get the former bachelor pad ready for our first child. He even had a large office added behind the garage so we can work from home but still have privacy when we need it. Once Eleanor was born, he volunteered to be the main caregiver while I run our business.
Somehow, we’ve made the unusual situation work. My husband loves being a house husband and taking care of the girls, and I love my work.
It’s a win-win for both of us and life couldn’t get any better.