Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Seriously,” Santi groans, interrupting that thought. “What have I told you about groping my sister at the breakfast table?”
“It’s our honeymoon,” Judge reminds him. “What did you expect?”
Another grunt. “I’m only here because my wife insisted we needed to come.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, Ivy appears from the main salon looking freshly fucked and pleased as hell.
“It doesn’t look like you’re faring too badly yourself,” Judge remarks dryly.
“Okay now it’s my turn to gag.” I grab my mimosa and take a long sip.
Santi gives me a roguish grin and shrugs apologetically, except I know he’s not sorry. Not one bit.
In addition to Santi and Ivy crashing our honeymoon, Solana, Georgie, Lois, and even Theron are here too. It’s either the craziest idea we’ve ever had or the best. Because with the exception of Theron, who I still trust about as far as I can throw him, they’ve all been taking turns helping with the babies. Which means Judge and I have the best of both worlds. Because there was no way we were leaving them anywhere while we jetted off to some beautiful destination. But Judge insisted he was giving me a honeymoon, and he’s come through on that promise while giving me something that I need just as much. Time with our friends and family.
We’ve been lazing our days away on a yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean, cruising from one beautiful port to the next. It’s been over a week of sun, sea, and hot sex, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Ugggg.” Solana groans as she finally decides to join us, her hair tossed up in a messy bun and huge sunglasses covering her eyes.
It doesn’t escape anyone’s notice that Theron’s eyes go straight to her ass as she moves across the deck. I shoot him a glare, and he shrugs.
“Where are we even at?” Solana asks. “Or better yet, what day is it?”
“It’s punishment day, from the looks of it,” I tell her. “That’s what you get for playing drinking games all night.”
“It’s Georgie’s fault.” She plunks into a chair at the table and pours herself some coffee. “He’s the one who wanted to do karaoke.”
“Which was riveting,” Judge says dryly. “Please, give us another rendition this evening.”
Solana rolls her eyes. “As if you were even there. Don’t think I didn’t notice you hauling your wife off to your stateroom, Lawson Montgomery.”
“I won’t deny it,” he says smoothly.
“Where are my babies?” Solana pouts.
“Sleeping. And don’t you dare think about waking them up,” I tell her. “Lois will murder you if I don’t.”
She wrinkles her nose at me. “I can’t help it. They are so cute.”
“I make good babies,” Judge says proudly.
I shoot him a glare. “Oh, you make good babies, all on your own, huh?”
He arches a brow at me, amused. “I’m having flashbacks of the delivery.”
“You’re just lucky they have my lovely temperament.”
At this, he snorts. “Temper is more like it.”
I flash him another sweet smile, and he leans in to kiss my jaw before whispering in my ear.
“Should I work on putting another one in you?”
“Lawson Montgomery, don’t you dare utter those words to me for at least another five years.”
He chuckles, his fingers moving to the nape of my neck, settling on the tattoo he finally inked into my skin. It took us some time to adjust to our new schedule of caring for the twins at all hours of the night, and it didn’t come without its struggles. Judge still shudders every time he refers to that period as the ice age because I was hormonal and, quite frankly, overwhelmed. I cried often and took out my frustrations on him even more often, but through it all, he was there. He talked me through the rough nights, held me through the worst ones, and put up with enough to make him look like a saint. And for that, I love him even more.
It took some time for us to come back to ourselves and figure out how to navigate parenthood with marriage. At times, it felt like we were both fumbling around in the dark, but we got through it. We’re still getting through it. And when it felt like we’d finally weathered the worst of the storm, I asked Judge to do what he’d set out to the night he married me.
So in a courtyard full of our family and friends, and a horde of guards with weapons this time, I kneeled before him and let him ink his family crest into my skin. Honestly, I don’t think there’s ever been anything hotter, and he thought so too, if the way he spent the rest of the night inside me is any indication.
Now, every time he touches it, I feel that possession. His claim on me. And maybe it’s an antiquated tradition, but I like having his brand on me. I love it, in fact. It’s almost ironic, considering I spent my whole life trying to escape these customs. Now, I’m in it for the long haul. But it doesn’t scare me the way it once did. There’s something freeing about being with Judge in this capacity. He’s still the same bossy, domineering man who boils my blood at times. And with my temper, there’s never a lack of passion between us. But I love my life. I love my husband. Our babies. Our beautiful, dysfunctional family. We have more than any two people should have, and I’ll never stop being grateful for it. Not for one second.