‘Love isn’t proud.’
My insides stir. Placing my hands over his, I lean my forehead onto his chin and whisper, “Say it again.”
He kisses my forehead and mutters against it, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
I look up at him, eyes glittering. “Not that. The part where you said you love me.”
His smile is small. “I love you.”
“Really?”
His dimple cuts into his cheek as he leans down to place a wet kiss on my mouth. “Been fighting it. Didn’t want it. But I’ll be damned if you try to take it away from me. We’ve got somethin’ good now, but we can have something incredible.” His lips cover mine. “I love you, Helena. Really, really.”
Suddenly, his body stills and he pulls away looking unsure of himself. “You still love me, cupcake?”
I roll my eyes, reach up, and punch him in the arm hard. He winces and I scoff. “Yes, I still love you. Asshole.”
He nods solemnly, but smiles, rubbing his arm. “Okay. I deserved that.” We stand there, smiling up at each other. “So, now what?”
I shrug. “Now, nothing.”
He raises a brow. “We have our first major fight, pronounce our love to each other,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, “and then we go home and do nothing about it?” He shakes his head. “Something seems off about that.”
I blink up at him. “I hear make-up sex is all the rage.”
He looks over my shoulder, staring at the wall in thought, rubbing at his chin. “Make-up sex, you say?” After a moment, he straightens and stalks forward. “I’m willing to give it a shot.”
Turns out, make-up sex is indeed all it’s said to be. In fact, as we lie on my bed naked, panting, and sweaty, I know I’ll be willing to cause a few arguments in our relationship just to apologize.
With my mouth.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Helena
If you had asked me three months ago if I wanted a relationship, I would’ve laughed boisterously and patted your sweet little head. But now I see it’s not the relationship to fear. It’s being in a relationship with the wrong person. As I sit on Max’s lap, his arm resting across my thighs as he presses kisses to my shoulder, I realize a relationship with the right person is not scary. It’s amazing.
Being yourself and having someone love you for it is amazing. If I knew it would be this way, I would never have fought it. I would’ve embraced it. But that’s the catch, isn’t it? You need to risk to gain. I took my leap of faith and it paid off. I got the best reward I could ask for. I got Max, and in turn, I got Ceecee too.
Turning on his lap, I lower my face to his, pressing light kisses on his mouth. As always, butterflies flutter in my belly.
Will it always be like this? Secretly, I hope so.
His eyes flicker down to my neck. Reaching up, he takes the necklace in his hands, eyeing the ring dangling from it. “You don’t always have to wear it, baby.”
Max’s ring. As if I’d ever take it off. It wasn’t a proposal, exactly. More of a promise of what’s to come. “I’m never taking it off,” I vow openly.
After Max told me he loved me that night, four weeks ago, we’ve been inseparable. The very next day, he gave me his ring. With a flush, he muttered, “You don’t have to wear it or anything. I just want you to have it.”
It was adorable. And thoughtful. And I loved him even more for the sentiment. Of course, being that Max has giant fingers, it was never an option to wear it the traditional way. I found a white gold chain, put the platinum ring on it, and I haven’t taken it off. Not once. When Ceecee spotted the ring, she looked a little too happy about it. Eyes darting from me to Max, she uttered, “Are you going to marry my dad?”
Seriously. She did that on purpose, the little sneak. Before I had a chance to answer, Max wrapped an arm around me. “When I ask, she’ll say yes.”
The confidence of the statement oozed off of him, and I wanted to hit him. But it hit me. What he had just said.
When he asks. Not if he asks.
My heart squealed and my mind swooned. Ceecee looked down at the table, her mind calculating. “So when you get married, that would make you my stepmom, right?”
Heart warm, I smiled down at her. “Yes, honey, it would.”
She breathed, “Cool,” and it sucker-punched me right in the gut. She wanted me to be her stepmom. Truth is, I was ready for it, even then. And one day, maybe we’d add another baby to the mix. When it came to Max and Ceecee, it came naturally. I trusted my gut and knew that whatever difficulties we faced, we’d do it together as a team. As a family.
Eyes smiling, Max’s arms tighten around my waist. “Never taking it off? Really? Never ever?”
I press a soft kiss to his cheek and promise, “Never ever.”
***
Max
Three months later…
This fuckin’ ring is burning a hole in my pocket. Proposing at a family dinner is probably not the way I should be doing this. Helena walks around my mother’s kitchen counter, holding two bowls of salad. As she passes me, she leans up, and instinctively, I lower my lips to hers for a quick kiss. When we separate, she winks at me. And I feel it in my cock. I can’t do this any longer. I can’t wait. I need to ask her to marry me. I need her to say yes. I need to make sure she’ll be with me forever.
I just need her.
Mama steps out of the pantry and calls out, “Dinner’s ready! Everyone out!” She finds my eyes as everyone moves out, and winks at me. Of course I had to tell my mom. She’d box my ears if I didn’t. To say she’s excited about Helena becoming a real member of our family is an understatement. There was a moment there when I thought Mom wanted to propose on my behalf.
Hell, I even called Helena’s family to ask permission. It seems it wasn’t just her dad’s permission I needed to get. I needed permission from them all. Including Asher. After a half-hour over-the-phone presentation on why I would make a good son-in-law, Helena’s dad gave me his blessing and I was good to go.
I take a deep breath and make my way outside to find Nat sitting on one side of Lena, and Ceecee sitting on the other side, while Lena and Nat feed Nat and Asher’s new babies, Willow and Daniel, AKA Low and Danny.
My brow bunches. That wasn’t part of the plan. I need to be sitting next to her to propose. I find an empty seat beside Nik and my mom. I sit there with a pout.
Now what?
Watching Lena feed Willow is something else. She looks down at the baby girl like she’s the most precious thing in the world. A vision of Lena holding a bundle with dark brown hair, her pouting lips, and my golden eyes flashes before me. I smile to myself.