Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
He groans and tears his lips from mine. “Dinner,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “I made dinner.”
“Dinner. Right,” I say, catching my breath.
Maddox laughs. “Let me feed you.”
I nod, and this time, when I try to climb off his lap, he lets me. I offer him my hand, and he takes it, letting me help him stand from the couch even though he doesn’t need the help. He laces our fingers together and leads me to the kitchen.
We enjoy dinner sitting at the kitchen island, talking about our day. Maddox finished a chest piece for a long-time customer this morning, and I told him about the patient that fainted on me when I tried to draw his blood.
“You know, it’s always the men,” I tell him. “Big babies.”
He laughs. “Trust me, I know. I get these big-ass burly guys coming in for ink, and as soon as they see my needle, their eyes are rolling back in their heads.”
“Do they go through with it?”
“Usually. I have a regular who brings an eye mask. He lays down and puts it on with headphones, and that’s how he stays until I’m done.”
“That’s dedication.” I laugh.
“It is,” he agrees.
“Briar and I always said we were going to get matching tattoos, but we’ve never taken the plunge.”
His eyes burn with intensity when he says, “If that happens, you have to let me do it.”
“I’m sure any of the guys will be fine. You’re all super talented.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “No way. If my wife is getting ink for the first time, it’s going to be from me.”
“You’re bossy,” I tease.
“Promise me, Brogan.”
“Is this really that important to you?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Fine. If we ever decide to go through with it, I’ll let you do it.”
“Trust me, Forrest will be the same way.”
“So, they won’t match, if they’re done by two different people,” I tell him. I know that’s not true. They’d use the same template, and like I said, they’re all hella talented from the pictures I’ve seen, but I know it will rile him up. I’ve never had a man be jealous over me, and I’m pretty sure that’s where this conversation veered off to.
“Brogan,” he growls, and I giggle.
“I’m just teasing.”
He leans in and kisses me. Sliding his hand behind my neck, he presses his forehead to mine. “It drives me crazy to think of another man marking you.”
“It’s just a tattoo.”
“It’s forever, baby. I’m the only man who gets to be a part of your forever.”
“And what if you weren’t a tattoo artist?” I counter. I’m enjoying this way too much after the heavy of the day.
“I’m sure I’d feel differently, but I’d still need to be there, and it would have to be in a location on your body where you don’t have to strip down.”
“Oh, so not on my breasts.”
“Brogan.” Another warning growl follows, which makes me laugh.
“I’m teasing.”
“You’re giving me an ulcer,” he says, dead serious.
“I’m sorry.” I lean in and kiss him. I don’t initiate our kisses often, and I love how his eyes sparkle when I do. “Forgive me?”
“Like I could ever stay mad at you. All you have to do is bat those big green eyes at me, and I’m toast.”
“So, if I do this?” I bat my eyes at him. “And ask for more kisses.”
He stands and lifts me from my chair, tossing me over his shoulder. “My wife gets what my wife wants,” he says, marching off toward the bedroom.
“We need to clean up.”
“I’ll take care of it. First, I’m running you a bath, and I’m going to kiss the hell out of you while I do. Then you’re going to soak in the tub while I clean up, and later, you can have all the kisses.”
“All of them?” I tease.
“Forever,” he promises, and there’s something in his gaze, something in the intensity of his words that makes me almost believe him.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Maddox
“You want one?” Legend offers me a beer.
“Nah, I told the wife she could drink.” I hold up my bottle of water.
Legend grins. “How is the wife?”
“Fucking perfect.” I glance around, making sure no little ears are close by to hear my declaration. I need to work a little harder at cleaning up my potty mouth, especially when the kids are around.
“Yeah,” Legend agrees. “Just wait until you add a kid to the mix. It’s unlike anything else, man.”
I follow his eyes, and he’s watching his wife, Monroe, and their son, Kane, who was born four months ago. “That’s what I hear.” I nod toward Roman and Forrest, sitting on the living room floor with Lilly and the twins, River and Rayne, playing with blocks.
“It won’t be long and they’ll be having another one,” Legend says.
“Which one?” I ask, because today is Lilly’s second birthday, and I know Roman wants more, and Forrest, he’d have a houseful if Briar was on board, and who knows, she might be. If there was ever a man meant to be a father, it’s Forrest. Hell, all of them. I’d even go as far as to say that about Lachlan and me as well, but we’re not there yet. Well, he’s not. I’d knock my wife up tonight if she would let me, but she needs time, and that’s okay. We’ll get there. I believe that with all that I am. If I’m ever a father, it will be because Brogan Lanigan made me one.