Page 50 of Forever Ink

“No baby, I need to get your mucky boots off before I get your jeans off.” Rhys was trying to shuck his jeans down, only to have them catch on his boots. He fell back onto the bed with a soft laugh.

“Boots off, then the rest, and you can wear your new jammies, okay?”

“Yes.” Rhys blinked slowly, smiling. “Ones with the reindeer on them.”

I chuckled, helping Rhys remove his boots and jeans. “Yes baby. Your warm fluffy socks, too. I know how much you hate having cold feet.”

“You’re th’ best daddy in the world,” Rhys said, sitting up kissing my cheek before collapsing back on the bed. Soft snores were coming from him before I even had the chance to get his pyjama pants on.

Laughing softly to myself, I moved Rhys under the warm covers and positioned the bucket dad had brought up close to his side of the bed. Stripping down, I crawled in beside him, pulling Rhys close against me.

“Sweet dreams, my sweet boy.” I kissed his soft curls and hugged him against me and slipped off to sleep.

Chapter 20

RHYS

Ow.

Oh my gods. My head felt terrible. I tried to burrow deeper into my pillow, but it felt wrong—too firm. Opening my eyes against my better judgment, I saw that I was laying sprawled across Simon’s chest, my hand splayed across his pectoral.

I remembered the barn and drinking the glögg, and that at some point Mouse had the idea we should let Ragnar out to protect us from the trolls on the hill. We’d curled back in the straw, I remembered that much, and eating the cookies Mouse had snuck out. We’d lain in the straw, and I’d told Mouse again how I was going to propose to Simon, but then we’d started talking about Mouse’s lack of a love life, and I was sure he needed a daddy. Having a daddy made everything perfect. Mouse had laughed at that and told me that he would be a soft daddy’s nightmare.

My brain suddenly came to a screeching halt.

I was going to propose to Simon last night and I hadn’t.

Shit, I hoped I hadn’t. I thought I’d remember if I had.

“Rhys, you’re wiggling around like a worm,” Simon mumbled sleepily.

I patted his chest, letting my fingers play with the curls of red hair on his chest “Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

Simon lifted his hand towards the bedside table, picking his watch up and squinting. “Not six yet.”

“Go back to sleep.” I kissed Simon’s furry chest. As I moved, his arm pulled me closer, dragging me up till our faces were level. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.” I had really wanted to wake up on Christmas day hopefully having proposed to Simon. I must have let out a sigh because Simon looked at me concerned.

“Are you okay, Rhee? Not feeling too sick after last night?” He ran his hand down my back in soothing circles.

“My head hurts but at least the world isn’t spinning, and I don’t feel like I’m on a roller coaster.” I smiled up at Simon.

He cupped my cheek before running a finger between my brows. “So why have you got your worried face on?”

“Um, I had something special planned for last night.” I dropped my head against his chest listening to the steady thump of his heart.

“Oh, and what was that? You mumbled something last night about having something important to ask me.” Simon lifted my chin from his chest, so I was facing him.

Could I do this? Could I ask him now?

I’d not really had any firm plan on how I was going to ask him. I’d only thought as far as asking him to marry me. I sat up, slipping out of Simon’s arms and moved off the bed towards my backpack where I’d hidden the ring. Pulling it out, I held it in the palm of my hand. Simon made a sound from the bed. He’d sat up leaning against the headboard.

Simon’s red hair was loose and wild, his beard had that wild orange cat look that always begged me to stroke it and smooth it down. He looked magnificent, laying relaxed with his chest bare and his gorgeous ink. I licked my lips thinking about how gorgeous he was, but I couldn’t let myself get distracted.

I supposed I could wait, but I’d already messed up last night getting drunk then forgetting to propose. How daft was that? Mentally shaking myself, I climbed back onto the bed, sitting on top of the covers in front of Simon.

“What are you doing over there, baby bear?” Simon patted his blanketed lap.

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