“I love you.”
I know I’ll never tire of hearing those words on her lips.
“I love you, Jules Riggs.”
She gets a dreamy look in her eyes. “I think everyone is going to be happy for us.”
“I know they will be,” I promise her, pressing my lips to hers one more time. “How many babies do you want?”
“I—Kit, I don’t know how many I can have. I’m getting kind of old.”
I scoff at her. “Baby, you got pregnant with just one donation from me. I think I have super sperm.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I was on fertility drugs and tracking my cycle.”
“Then we can do the same thing again.”
“How many babies are you wanting?” She pulls back, her cute little brows tugging closer together.
“As many as it takes to give my parents a girl. With the one we’re having that makes ten grandsons.”
She gives me a slow smile, making it clear that she’s on board with the plan.
Then her face changes, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Baby?”
She shakes her head and I expect her to try and hide her emotion, but she doesn’t pull away. “I hate the time we lost. All the years—”
“You did the right thing,” I say, my voice low but sure. “Neither of us were ready the first time our lips met. I don’t know that we would’ve made it if we started things back then.”
“The pain I caused, all the lies I told,” she continues.
“Let it go.”
“I can’t. I’ve been horrible.”
“I forgive you,” I whisper, locking my eyes on hers. “Is that what you need to hear? None of that matters anymore. We’re getting married. You’re having my baby. We get the fairy tale, and it makes it so much sweeter having had to fight for it the way we have. We know what loss and heartbreak feels like. Now we get to move forward with all the happiness.”
We kiss, but I put an end to it before we can go too far. She’s sore, but my dick will forget that point if we start to take things further.
She groans in distaste when I shift to get out from under her.
“Where are you going?”
She reaches for my dick, frowning when I pull out of her reach.
“I got something for you.”
“Unless it’s that cock, I’ll wait.”
I’m laughing at her antics as I pull open my closet door.
“Oh, like you got a real something?” She grins as she sits up in the bed, pressing her back to the headboard.
“Maybe pull the sheet up?” I say, feeling a little weird to be giving her this with her amazing breasts on full display.
She cocks an eyebrow at me, pulling the sheet all the way off. Sitting with her legs crossed, her pussy on full display.
“Jules,” I warn, my mouth watering for a taste. “Maybe I can give it to you later.”
I place the box at the foot of the bed and start to climb closer to her.
“Give me the gift!” she insists as she tugs up the sheet, locking it under her arms and holding out grabby hands.
I pick the box up from the floor, watching as she strips the paper from it like a kid on Christmas morning.
Tears well in her eyes when she opens the flaps, her fingers softly running over the fabric.
“My mom’s clothes.”
“We talked about it that day. I hope you’re not mad I took those things without asking.”
She shakes her head, tears now a steady stream on her face as she lifts the memory quilt from the box.
“This is the best,” she whispers.
“There’s a smaller one in there also,” I explain. “One for you and one for the baby.”
She looks up, her eyes finding mine. “Thank you.”
“I read the comments everyone made on your post,” I say, needing to break the pained look in her eyes.
She gives me a soft smile, her hands still clutching the blanket.
“At first, all the comments were about how I looked at you. Did you read them?”
She nods. “I did. It helped me realize the connection we’ve always had.”
“Did you see what Howard wrote?”
The tops of her ears start to turn red. “He said I wasn’t the only one drooling. Apparently, you were doing the same that year we had the huge pool party at Mom and Dad’s.”
“Don’t do that,” she says, a wide smile on her face.
“Do what?” I ask innocently.
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t know you were smoking hot back then.”
I press my hand to my chest, fake shock on my face.
“I was a young boy, Jules. Are you a pervert?”
“A young boy? You were eighteen, covered in muscles, and when you got out of the pool…”
“When I got out of the pool? Go ahead, tell me.”
I crawl up the bed, pulling the memory blankets away, placing them back in the box on the floor before inching up her body.