“I can’t with you.” I shake my head and open the chips and pop one in my mouth. “There is no need for blackmail. No one needs to know about my secret love of Bluey.”
“It’s a good thing you love me.” Harper is gloating and loving every minute of what she learned.
“I don’t know why. Now, finish your snacks because I’m going to punish you for being a bad girl.”
“I’ve been a bad girl?” She quirks a brow at me.
“Yes. No making fun of me when I’m feeding you and giving you orgasms.”
“Duly noted.” Harper gives me a salute before shoving a handful of chips in her mouth. She looks like the cutest fucking chipmunk on the planet like that. God, I really don’t know how I lived without her.
I love this woman and I will do everything in my power to make sure I keep her this time.
Harper and the girls are all I could ever possibly need in life. I lost her once, and I sure as hell am not going to lose her again.
Because Harper’s it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
MARCUS
There’s a happy ache in my body as sunlight filters in through the curtains. A soft breath blows across my chest as limbs start moving.
Damn. I could get used to this.
Waking up with Harper in my arms? Not sure if life could get any better.
“Are you awake?” I whisper.
“It’s too early.”
“Morning, sunshine.”
Harper groans, rolling away from me and burying her face in the pillow that she didn’t use, opting to use me as one instead.
“You’re still not a morning person?”
“I’m a morning person five days out of the week, Marcus. I like being able to sleep in every now and then.”
“Weekends are not made for sleeping in around here.” I press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “If you want, you can go back to sleep, and I can get started on breakfast with the girls.”
Harper rolls back over, a smile peeking out from the mess of hair hiding her face. “I mean, I guess I could wake up for breakfast. As long as it’s pancakes.”
“Take your time.”
Harper pops up, hair a complete mess. That has a smug smile spreading across my face because the memories of last night are still very fresh in my mind.
“Won’t the girls wonder why I’m here?”
“Do you want to tell them?” I ask, grabbing a hoodie from my dresser and pulling it on.
“Isn’t that kind of a big step?” she asks.
“Bigger than saying I love you last night?” I waggle my eyebrows at her.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the girls, but I don’t want to?—”
“You’re overthinking this,” I interrupt, walking over to press a kiss to the worry lines in her forehead. “I’m all in, Harper. Whether we tell the girls now or later, that’s not going to change.”
