Page 51 of Blaze

We aren’t formal here.The Wilde grandkids might become rich in the long run when we receive our inheritances, but none of us are pretentious.We weren’t raised that way, and neither were any of our spouses.

This mansion is going to be filled with love and laughter.It’s going to beloud.It already is, and that’s before we add crying babies.They will be messy.They will eat spaghetti.With their fingers.

I chuckle at the visual.

Victoria turns to me, smiling.“What’s so funny?”

I reach with my napkin and wipe a smudge of red sauce from her chin before pushing her chair back, lifting her, and settling her on my lap.I prop her injured leg on the seat she vacated and wrap my arms around her.

My lips come to her ear.“I was picturing our kids eating spaghetti in their high chairs.It will be all over the floor and the walls.They’ll use their fingers.They’ll rub it in their hair.They’ll throw it across the room.It’s what kids do.And we’ll laugh and clean them up afterward.I’ll toss them into the bathtub and shampoo their hair while you nurse the youngest.”

Both my arms are around her, holding her tight, and I discreetly stroke her nipple with my thumb.The dress does a pretty good job of hiding her erect buds, but I’m aware of them.

Sexy.As.Fuck.

She whimpers in my arms.“Blaze…” Her voice is soft and filled with emotion.She wipes a tear from her eyes.A happy tear.

Isabel comes in and sets a giant tray of cannoli in the middle of the table.

“Oh man, that looks so good.I’m going to get fat here,” Victoria says.

Reagan laughs.“Girl, we’reallgoing to get fat here.”She pats her stomach.“That’s what happens when relentless bossy men do everything in their power to keep us barefoot and pregnant.”

I love the way Victoria giggles.I know she’s nervous about being pregnant.Hell, she’s even stressed about having sex.But the idea is growing on her.She didn’t wince this time.

I whisper in her ear again, “I made an appointment with Kinsley for tomorrow.”

She inhales sharply.“To check up on my leg?”

After sliding one of my hands between her thighs, I bring my fingers to her pussy.No one can see what I’m doing under the table, plus they’re all kinky fuckers anyway.Half of them have probably had sex in this fucking dining room.

With my lips on her ear again, I respond, “No, baby, to check on your hymen.”I tap her clit over her panties.I’m really loving the dress, and I think she likes wearing it, too.

She shudders.“Blaze,” she hisses, keeping her voice low.“I assumed you were kidding about that.I don’t need a doctor to verify my virginity.I’m aware of it.”

I chuckle.“I don’t give a fuck about you being a virgin, naughty girl, and you know it.You’re worried about how much it will hurt when I thrust my cock into you.We’ll find out what Kinsley thinks.”

I reach around my girl, snagging a cannoli and bringing it to her lips.

When she tries to lift her arms, I shake my head.“Keep your hands in your lap, baby.”

She leans in and takes a bite.A second later, she moans.“Damn, that is so good.Gretchen is a genius in the kitchen.”

“Thank you, dear,” Gretchen says, materializing behind us to clear up some plates, “but I can’t take credit for the cannoli.Claire’s parents own a bakery.They made those.I may be pretty good at a lot of breads and desserts, but when you sink your teeth into pastries around here, often they come from Kennett’s Bakery.”

Claire laughs.“I’m pretty sure I lured Ryder into my heart by bringing him pastries the day after we met.That first day, I wasn’t very polite to him.I was filled with vinegar, afraid the town was about to collapse, thinking he and his family would come to Wilde and ruin it.I brought pastries here the next morning.”

“And I licked cherry jelly from your fingers,” Ryder adds with a snicker.

“Good Lordy,” Gretchen mutters as she returns.“That story always makes the hair stand up on my arms.”

“Why’s that?”Victoria asks.

Gretchen sighs.“I forgot to give these youngsters napkins.”

Ryder belly laughs.“I think sucking my girl’s fingers clean is why she married me, so thank goodness we didn’t have napkins.”

Claire groans.“Good grief.”