I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers coasting down the side of her face. “Will you be my Valentine, Mrs. Hayes?”
“Rossi-Hayes. But yes. I suppose I will.”
“Good. Do you want your gift now or later?”
“You got me a gift?”
“Mhm. I have big plans for the three of us today.” I bring her lips to mine for a chaste kiss. “Now or later?”
She glances down at her attire, then back up at me. “Can I shower first? I feel gross.”
“You’re beautiful, but I’ll allow it.”
She heads toward the bathroom but stops in her tracks. “Wait. Where are my parents?”
“They’re on a weekend getaway. It’s just us for the next forty-eight hours.”
Angie’s parents are sticking around for a while longer, so I booked them a room at the Willow Creek Inn down by the beach. They’ve been a huge help over the last two weeks, andthey deserve a break. Besides, I’m eager to have my girls to myself for a while.Bothof my girls.
I swat her butt, spurring her into motion. “Go. I’m not a patient man.”
“I can’t believe you got us matching pajamas,” she says, doing up the last button on Jessie’s onesie. It’s pink with red and white hearts all over it.
“I figured since we’re gonna be having a quiet day at home, we could do it in style.”
Angie’s silk top and sleep shorts match Jessie’s onesie, and I opted for the matching pants with a plain red shirt.
She slides a large red bow onto Jessie’s head and adjusts the loops.
I pull out my phone and hold it at arm’s length to take a selfie, then I snap a few more of just Jessie and Angie to keep for myself. My heart squeezes at the sight of them in their matching outfits. They’re perfect, and they’re all mine.
The doorbell rings, and I excuse myself to answer it, returning with the large bouquet of sunflowers I ordered earlier in the week. Growing up, Pops always made sure Mama had fresh flowers on her table. I swore I’d do the same someday.
Angie’s eyes widen as I stride into the room and set the arrangement on the coffee table.
“You know I hate surprises.” She brings the bouquet to her nose and inhales. “But I’ll make an exception because these are my favorite.”
“You’re my favorite.” I kiss her cheek. “And we’re just getting started.”
Jessie lets out a discontented wail, which quickly turns into all-out screeching. I grab the breastfeeding pillow and set it on Angie’s lap as she unbuttons her top. Jessie latches without too much difficulty, and the room is quiet once more.
Bacon sizzles in the frying pan as the water for the linguini noodles begins to boil. Angie slides onto the stool at the kitchen island and props her chin on her hand.
“Something smells good,” she says. “Wait. Is that?—”
“Chicken carbonara. Your dad’s recipe.”
She hops down and rounds the island. Her hands cup my cheeks, and she kisses me. “God, I love…” Her expression falters, and she clears her throat. “Pasta.”
That word, the one that almost tripped off her tongue, has been on the tip of mine forever. I’m not sure she’s ready to hear it.
I steal one more kiss and smile against her lips. “I lovepasta, too.”
Her eyes turn molten, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my groin. How the hell am I supposed to resist fucking her for four more weeks when she’s looking at me like that?
The grease splatters at the exact right moment, breaking the spell.
“What can I do to help?” Angie asks.
