Tears sting my eyes. I struggle to blink them back, but one escapes and rolls down my cheek. He brushes it away with his thumb. “Why are you crying, my beautiful wife?”
“Because I’m so happy,” I tell him as more tears begin to fall. “And because I’ve been really emotional lately.” I sniffle. “And because I can’t decide upon a name,” I add because it’s been a frustrating search and nothing sounds right to me yet. Not for a boy or a girl.
“Not to worry.” He flashes a handsome smile. “We’ll figure one out together. We have plenty of time.”
I huff in mock frustration. “Oh, I knew you’d say that.”
He arches a brow. “Did you now?”
I nod. “You hardly ever worry about anything,” I tease.
“And you worry entirely too much,” he jokes in return.
We both laugh for a moment before his expression turns serious. “I have an idea.”
“What is it?”
“If we have a girl, we can name her after your mother.”
My heart squeezes. “I love that idea.” A thought occurs to me. “And if we have a boy, we can name him after your father. What do you think?”
He brushes his lips again to mine. “I think”—he grins—“that I’m the most blessed male alive.”
I smile at him. “Then we are both the most blessed,” I whisper, lacing my fingers with his.
He brings our joined hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles. His blue eyes stare deep into mine, full of love and devotion. “Let me worship you, my queen,” he murmurs against my skin. “I’ve been longing to have you in my arms all day, and I want you more than anything.”
My heart swells, so full it feels as though it might burst. I lean closer, my fingers brushing his jaw as I hold his gaze. “Then you may have me, my love. Always.”
