“Something old, from the first day we met,” he said. “Plus we can play strip poker later.”
“Only if you want me to kick your bare butt once I win your clothes.”
“I’ll take that challenge.” He handed me the second package. “This is your something new.”
I shook the box open. A spaghetti spoon wasn’t exactly romantic, but he sexy’ed it up with a curly bow.
“From our first date?” I asked.
“It has a silicon grip. Top of the line utensil right there.”
I giggled. “Now if we could just learn how to cook.”
“We’ll have plenty of time for that, Mrs. Reed.”
I was starting to love the sound of that.
The next package was soft and flexible.
“Something borrowed…” I murmured.
I ripped the paper off and clutched the blue baby blanket to my chest.
I didn’t care if it was hormonal or not. I let the tears come.
“Because I got pregnant on our second date?” I whispered.
“It was Bast’s when he was a baby.” Lachlan touched the blanket with a gentle finger. “I thought maybe our boy would like it as much as he did.”
“Or our girl.”
“Nah. I only make boys.”
“Sample size of one.”
“Call it a hunch.” He reached for the last present. “I’m cheating on this one.”
“You don’t have to do all this.”
“The pack-rat doesn’t want any more presents?”
I giggled, brushing away the tears. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then this is your something blue.”
I tore through the paper. The photograph was framed and lovely—me smiling and cheerful, but Lachlan looked like he swallowed his tongue.
“This is the picture I took when I told you I was pregnant,” I said. “Third date?”
“I think my face turned a good shade of blue there.”
“Maybe a little purple, but I won’t tell.” I cradled the picture. “Lachlan, this is amazing.”
“Wait. I have one more thing for you.” His eyes brightened. “But it doesn’t belong on a shelf.”
He wasn’t.
He couldn’t.
I held my breath.
Lachlan knelt before me on one knee, pulling a velvet box from his pocket.
Two gold wedding bands rested inside the box.
“I love you, Elle.”
I couldn’t speak.
Lachlan stared at me, his voice solemn. “This was never a three date bet for a crazy adrenaline rush. We are meant to be together. You made me realize the man I could be and the father that I was. I need you in my life, and I want to be a part of yours.”
“Lachlan.”
“You said one day I’d realize I wasn’t the center of the universe.”
“And you said you only wanted to be the center of mine.”
“Red, will you stay married to me?”
It was the silliest and best and most romantic question I’d ever heard. I pulled him close and dropped into his arms.
“I love you so much, Lachlan.”
“Is that a yes?”
I picked a ring from the box and slipped a band onto his finger. “Yes, I will stay married to you.”
He kissed my finger before placing the ring on it. “Can I call you my wife without you getting mad?”
“Sure…but you know it’s impolite to talk with your mouth full.”
“You’re absolutely right…”
Lachlan lifted me from the couch. I had no idea where he summoned the strength after a game that probably destroyed every last muscle that had already torn, frayed, bruised, and busted from training camp. He didn’t complain, only raced to drop me on the bed so he could tug off my clothes.
I did the same, but my hands stilled over his dark bruises. He shrugged me away, kissing me, despite his pain.
All the more reason for me to give him a little present of my own.
I didn’t stay on my back. I pushed him to the sheets.
“Elle…what…?”
I swung over him, my head at his waist and my panties inches from his face. He got the message.
“The last thing I want is my husband straining himself after such a hard game.” I squeezed his cock through his boxers. “Such a big game.”
Lachlan panted as I licked the head of his cock. He ripped my panties to the side and sunk his mouth over my slit. “Yeah. Really…uh…wet game.”
He was bad at this, but I couldn’t fault him. He used his skilled tongue for teasing, not puns. I shuddered as he explored every inch of me—sucking, flicking, slurping until I groaned.
“It was a really tight game…” I stroked him, licking his impossibly hard shaft.
“Hot on the field.”