Page 305 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“It totally is. And I’ll accept your apology for calling me lazy whenever you’re ready to give it.”
He tugs me down on the bed beside him, his hand shifting to my stomach. “How are you feeling? Are you tired right now?”
“I’m fine,” I say gently, though his concern for me is doing very happy things to my heart. “I’m great, even. A little tired, sure. But I feel good.” I take a steadying breath. “Areyouhappy?”
He picks up my hand, squeezing it as he wraps it between his. “To watch you turn into a mother?” He shakes his head. “I’m going to love every minute of this.”
He kisses me again, this one touched with fervency and a tiny bit of heat. I lean into it, savoring the feel of him, loving that I belong to him, and he belongs to me. That, alone, is more than I ever dreamed of, but to think of a tiny human who will belong to us both? My heart nearly bursts at the thought.
Lennox breaks the kiss and leans back the slightest bit. “You promise you’re okay? You’re happy about this?”
I nod, smiling up at him. “The happiest.”
“Really? This is it? There are no more levels of happy available to you?”
“Nope. This is the top. I am maxed out happy.”
He nods and claps his hands against his thighs. “In that case, let me go tell Harry Styles you don’t actually want to meet him.”
I gasp. “Lennox Hawthorne, you better not be joking.”
He stands and holds out his hand, his eyes bright with love. “Come and find out.”
I slip my hand into his, relishing his strong grip, and let him lead me from the room.
Meeting Harry Styles is definitely a memory I’ll always cherish.
But at the end of the night, when I climb into bed and settle into Lennox’s arms, he’s the one I think of as I drift off to sleep.
My maxed out, top level of happy.
LennoxfreakingHawthorne.
Thousands of chefs in America, but I fell in love withhim.
