Page 43 of Size Doesn't Matter

And he was finally free to pursue the life he wanted.

“Angel, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

After a moment, she pulled back and used her knuckles to delicately wipe away her tears while trying not to mess up her make-up. “Why aren’t you mad?” she asked, accepting the handkerchief Jack pulled from his pocket. “Most men would be freaking out if they’d just been told they’d knocked up their one-night stand.”

“The most beautiful woman in the world just told me she’s having my baby. Why the fuck would I be mad?” he said, then leaned closer, brushing his lips over the shell of her ear. “And if our one night together wasn’t enough for you to understand that I’m not like other men, then we need to revisit a few things.”

He gently nibbled her earlobe and revelled in the shiver that ran through her body, in the quiet gasp that caused the sudden rise and fall of her ample breasts as they pushed against his chest. He wanted to push her further. He wanted to ask if she was wet for him, wanted to push his fingers inside her hot body and find out for himself, and he might have if her father hadn’t interrupted them.

“Is everything okay over here?”

Paul Bennett was an intimidating man. He stood a good few inches taller than Jack and carried himself with a quiet confidence that screamed “Don’t fuck with me.” If Jack had been a lesser man, he probably would have wet his pants under the intensity of the older man’s stare, especially after the words they’d exchanged when he’d first arrived. Thankfully, he’d been raised by an intimidating man and was comfortable with intense stares and awkward questions. The familiarity of the situation was almost calming. But before he could assure Paul that everything was fine, Sophie spoke up.

“I think so,” she said with a watery smile, using his handkerchief to dab at the corners of her eyes.

“Everything’s perfect,” Jack said, a feeling of contentment settling over him like a warm blanket as he returned her smile.

Paul cocked one brow, looked him up and down, then grunted. “Uh-huh.” Turning his attention to his daughter, he added, “They’re ready to serve up dinner,” then headed back towards the party.

“I don’t think he likes me,” Jack said, taking Sophie’s hand in his as they followed slowly behind.

She shrugged, undisturbed by her father’s attitude. “When you spoke to him before, did he threaten you with bodily harm?”

He swallowed thickly as he watched Paul Bennett stalk away in front of them. “He might have mentioned something about siblings with flexible morals and easy access to a wood chipper.”

His lover laughed so hard and so suddenly that she leaned into him for support, and his heart picked up pace when she pressed her palm against his chest, right over the racing organ. “You’ll be fine,” she said, grinning up at him. “They only threaten people they like.”

“They?”

“My dad and his brothers.”

“So I should be happy that they want to turn me into mulch?”

“Exactly. When they met Wolf, my aunt Abby’s fiancé, they threatened to cut off his fingers one by one. They told him, and I quote, ‘Abby has eight brothers, and you have eight fingers. You do the math,’” she said, deepening her voice to imitate her uncles. Jack frowned, not understanding how dismemberment could be worse than death by wood chipper. Sophie saw his confusion. “He’s an author,” she explained. “His ability to type is pretty high on his list of priorities.” She indicated their seats at a long wooden table, dressed in more fairy lights and flowers. “Shall we?”

He looked around at all of the unfamiliar faces and scrubbed at his neck again. “Maybe I should go back to the hotel and wait for you there.”

Sophie looked genuinely confused. And maybe a little hurt. “Why?”

He squeezed her hand. “Baby, I crashed your uncle’s wedding.”

“So?”

“So maybe they don’t want a random stranger sharing their table.”

Her confusion dissolved into laughter as she rolled her eyes, and this time she was the one to squeeze his hand. “Okay, the first thing you need to know about the Bennett family is this: there’s always room for one more. And you’re not a random stranger. You’re my—” Her mouth silently opened and closed as she searched for the right word. Then she shrugged and smiled at him. “You’re mine.”

Jack couldn’t have stopped the broad smile that spread across his face if he’d tried.

“You’re mine.”

Had anyone ever spoken truer words than those? He’d been hers from the moment they’d met, and he was determined to keep it that way. Leaning into her, he nuzzled against her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Thank you, Sophie.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she whispered back, her grin unmistakable against his cheek. “You still have to meet the rest of them.”

16

Sophie was impressed. Not many people experienced a Bennett family gathering first-hand and lived to tell the tale, but Jack seemed to take it all in stride, answering every question her family threw at him and asking several of his own.

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