I fucking love it when she blushes.
“And I’m not in a rush to start right away, but I also didn’t have you before. So, when and if you’re ready to start a conversation about it, I’m here. Are you on birth control?”
She bites her lip and her cheeks darken. “No.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Baby, we’ve been fucking like rabbits, and I don’t plan to stop or put anything between us when I’m inside you. So if you don’t want babies, you’d better make yourself an appointment with a doctor.”
Her lips roll in, and then she lets out a little laugh. “I’m so stupid. I didn’t even think of it. But it’s never been something I’ve had to consider before.”
I love that she hasn’t been with anyone but me.
I especially love that my son was never inside her. Because then Iwouldhave to kill him.
“Call yourself stupid again, and I’ll put you over my knee and make your ass glow.”
Her eyes widen, and she shifts on her feet.She likes that idea.
“You didn’t have to tear all of this out just for me,” she says quietly, spreading her arms wide, and I nod.
“Yeah, I did. I don’t want to see Elliott hitting you every time I walk into the fucking living room, Angel. We’ll change it all and make new memories.”
She licks her lips, looking around. “The view is so amazing up here.”
Ideas are starting to form in that smart-as-fuck mind of hers.And I can’t wait to see what she comes up with.
“The view is why I bought the building,” I tell her and watch as she walks around what used to be the kitchen.
“Can we have a piano there, by the windows?”
“You can have literally anything in the world that you want. How many times do I have to tell you that before you believe me? There’s no limit to what I’ll give you, Angel.”
“Why?” She blinks quickly, surprised at her own question. “I mean, thank you.”
“Thewhyis easy. You’re my wife. Are you hungry?”
Her stomach growls before she can answer, and I nod.
“Me too. I’m taking you out tonight.”
“To the Rapture building?” She pauses, watching me, and I shake my head.
“No. To a restaurant. How do you feel about Mexican food?”
“I’m having a love affair with chips and queso. I’m sorry, I can’t give them up for you,” she says, keeping a straight face. “But we’ll accept a third into our relationship.”
“How generous.” I reach out, offering her my hand, and without hesitation, she slides her palm against mine. “Let’s go get some queso, then.”
“And margaritas?”
“You bet.”
“And carne asada?”
“I’ll get you everything on the menu.”
Twenty-Two
JULIAN
