Page 50 of What About Now

I nod. “Something smells amazing.”

“I made chili. I was only on the books for half a day today. I work late tomorrow night, so I wanted to be here when you got home to spend the night with you.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“I care about you.” He shrugs. “Spoiling comes with that.” He winks.

“You make the bad days better,” I confess.

His eyes light up as if I just told him he won a million dollars. I try to move off his lap, but he locks his arms around me, holding me in place.

“You, wife, are the best part of every day.” He kisses me again, this time deeper, and I open for him, saying with my kiss what I don’t have the guts to tell him with my words.

I’m falling for you.

I want you.

He slides his hands under my sweater, and I rock against him. I grip his shirt, holding him close. I’m new to all of this, but kissing my husband is something I’ve come to crave. No matter how many kisses we share, I want more. No matter what happens, there will never be a time when I don’t want more of Maddox Lanigan.

He groans and tears his lips from mine. “Dinner,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “I made dinner.”

“Dinner. Right,” I say, catching my breath.

Maddox laughs. “Let me feed you.”

I nod, and this time, when I try to climb off his lap, he lets me. I offer him my hand, and he takes it, letting me help him stand from the couch even though he doesn’t need the help. He laces our fingers together and leads me to the kitchen.

We enjoy dinner sitting at the kitchen island, talking about our day. Maddox finished a chest piece for a long-time customer this morning, and I told him about the patient that fainted on me when I tried to draw his blood.

“You know, it’s always the men,” I tell him. “Big babies.”

He laughs. “Trust me, I know. I get these big-ass burly guys coming in for ink, and as soon as they see my needle, their eyes are rolling back in their heads.”

“Do they go through with it?”

“Usually. I have a regular who brings an eye mask. He lays down and puts it on with headphones, and that’s how he stays until I’m done.”

“That’s dedication.” I laugh.

“It is,” he agrees.

“Briar and I always said we were going to get matching tattoos, but we’ve never taken the plunge.”

His eyes burn with intensity when he says, “If that happens, you have to let me do it.”

“I’m sure any of the guys will be fine. You’re all super talented.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No way. If my wife is getting ink for the first time, it’s going to be from me.”

“You’re bossy,” I tease.

“Promise me, Brogan.”

“Is this really that important to you?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Fine. If we ever decide to go through with it, I’ll let you do it.”

---