I Want You Back (Want You #1)(111)

“I caught her and Calder watching old episodes of that show on MTV where the kids have over-the-top birthday parties, so that’s probably where she saw it. High five for talking her out of having a chocolate fountain, mamacita.”

Lucy hit her palm to mine. “She’s already hinting for a sleepover party for next year, but I told her not until she’s ten, so we’ve got a year to prepare for it.”

Slipping my arm under her lower back, I rolled her on top of me.

“You are such a beast that you can maneuver me around with one arm.”

“You love it.” I pushed her hair over her shoulder, letting my fingers glide through the silky softness. “I hope we’ll have another child by Mimi’s tenth birthday.”

As she stared at me, I noticed her deep brown eyes weren’t bright with possibility.

“What?” I asked her warily.

“I love you.”

Here we go. “And?”

“And babies are a lot of work. Before you get that ‘Shit, is she gonna lecture me again about not being around when Mimi was a baby?’ look on your face, my concerns have nothing to do with what happened back then. It’s about now. Because your non-hockey-playing life is so overloaded with Stonewall Enterprises responsibilities that you don’t have time for a baby.”

Okay. So that stung.

“I’ve done the baby thing by myself once. That was enough.” She scooted forward and braced her hands on the mattress, one on either side of my head. “Although it feels like we’ve been together for a long time, it’s only been a few weeks. We all need time to get into a solid groove as a family before we start adding new members. That means no babies for a while. And no puppies or kitties or fish or ferrets or hamsters or guinea pigs or potbellied pigs or whatever critter of the week Mimi has been not-so-subtly hinting would be a great Christmas gift for her.”

“Luce. Do you want to have another baby or two with me?”

“Yes.” She feathered her lips across mine in barely-there kisses. “But the old-fashioned girl inside me wants us to be married before another baby happens.”

That caught me by surprise. Lucy had never hinted that she wanted that. “I asked you to marry me, and you turned me down.”

“You haven’t asked me recently,” she cooed.

“Lucille Quade, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Where’s the ring?”

I squinted at her. “What?”

“You can’t propose without a ring.” She nipped my chin. “I’m only doing the marriage thing once, so your proposal better be epic and not something you blurt out in bed because you felt pressured.”

Where had all of this come from?

From the girlie, romantic side of her that Lucy rarely acknowledges, which allows you to ignore all that hearts and flowers shit that you’re bad at anyway.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Don’t get your hopes up that my proposal will be some epic thing like Jensen did for Rowan.” My cousin had popped the question at a U of M football game, where Rowan was the collegiate cheer team coach and he’d hired the marching band to spell out MARRY ME ROWAN during halftime. “Or like Walker did with Trinity.” That proposal had happened in front of our entire family at a barbecue. “Or like that fucking showoff the Hammer did for Annika.” Axl had gone all out during the Wild’s last home game of the season, proposing to her on the ice in front of the crowd at the Xcel Energy Center. “Brady is the only one who’s shown any sense.” He’d bought the rings, booked the ticket and whisked Lennox off to be married on an island, just the two of them.

“Uh, no thanks. All of those are far too public. It’s a life-changing moment for two people, and it should be private.”

There was my practical Luce.

“Anyway, back to the original issues. To have a baby, you do realize we’d have to stop using condoms.”

I snorted, but my heart beat faster.

“Speaking of condoms . . . I’m tired of them.”

It’s for your own good, woman.

“I know you’re protecting me, Jax.” As she spoke she teased my mouth with hers and kept our gazes locked. “You’re meticulous about hygiene. Maybe that’s why you haven’t had an outbreak in a year and a half. I don’t have to tell you that the virus isn’t transferable through your sperm and there’s still a two percent chance you’ll infect me even when you’re not showing symptoms even if we use condoms.”

“Jesus, Lucy, what—”

“I love making love with you. Love it. I crave it. You can make me beg you for it. But since we’ve renewed our intimate relationship, you haven’t let me go down on you. Not once. That’s not protecting me, baby. That’s denying me.”

She sank her teeth into my lower lip and tugged. “I want you in my mouth, no condom. I want to feel your hands on my head, pulling my hair, as I take you over the edge and drink you down.”

My dick jumped to attention.

“Please,” she whispered against my jaw. “Let me have my wicked way with you.”

Before I answered, Lucy pushed up onto all fours and started kissing her way down my body. Slowly, giving me a chance to change my mind.

But she was right. I wanted this.