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Juliet moved around the kitchen gracefully despite Beau’s presence in the sling strapped to her slim body. Since he’d been out of commission, Juliet had been carting the baby around when she wasn’t on the floor playing with her or otherwise taking care of her. He loved Juliet’s nurturing way with her, but he had to admit he was a little jealous that Beau seemed to like Juliet almost as much as she liked him lately.

“Sweet-talker. Someone needs to make dinner, and no, I’m not a dinner substitute,” she said, heading off his most common rebuttal for that statement before he could even open his mouth.

“But I’m too cranky to be left alone up there.”

“Mister, you’re too cranky to be around,” she teased. He wasn’t the best patient.

He sidled up behind her and licked the back of her neck, gripping the counter for support. “Maybe you having your hair up is sexy too.”

She turned carefully in his arms, both of them aware of the snoozing baby and his incision.

“My hair being up is sexy?” Juliet’s mouth pressed into a serious line and she felt his forehead. “Hmm. I figured you were feverish and delirious again, but apparently I just brought the wrong man home from the hospital.”

“Awkward, considering you sucked my dick about an hour ago.”

“Is it wrong that I’m not sorry?”

“I don’t think it’s wrong, but the other me might be jealous.”

“Two of you—oh God. The mind boggles. Is the other you less of a grump?”

“I’m guess he’s probably more of a grump, considering he missed out on the fellatio.”

She giggled, and the sound made him grin.

“‘Fellatio’ always sounds like a fancy Italian dessert,” she said. “Such a prissy word.”

“Somehow I can’t imagine ever getting tired of that dessert.” He threaded his fingers into her loose chignon, and she sighed dreamily. He couldn’t wait to finish with this healing bullshit and bang the hell out of his little minx.

“Have I thanked you today for not dying on me?” she asked earnestly.

“Have I thanked you today for saving my life?”

“It was a team effort,” she said, her smile shaky even now, a week and a half later.

He went to the table and pulled out a chair, angling it to face her before he sank into it. Even now, he felt like he’d been run over by an ambulance rather than taken to the hospital in one.

“So why are you really out of bed?” she asked, taking a wooden spoon out of the drying rack and brandishing at him, as though she was thinking of swatting him with it. He may have started that game, but if she thought she was going to top him just because he was recovering, she’d find out how wrong she was. It was worth popping a few stitches over.

Juliet must have seen the look in his eye because she grimaced and slid the spoon into the utensil drawer.

“I was lying there, bored, and realized I owe you an apology.”

She frowned at him. “For what?”

“The night on the roof.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably then went on. “When I asked you to marry me and you hesitated, I acted like an ass. I mean, we haven’t been together that long, and I know why you hesitated. You made it clear from the beginning that you didn’t want kids.”

Her hand dropped protectively to Beau, warming his heart. She’d always been good with her, but now they were inseparable.

“I only hesitated because I was surprised,” she reminded him. With time he’d gotten over his stupid ego enough to believe her. “I love you both, Will.”

He couldn’t help but smile, his heart lifting at her words. “I shouldn’t have rushed you.”

“If we do get married, I want to adopt her,” Juliet blurted.

He blinked. “Of course.”

She sagged back against the counter, as though that had been bothering her for a while, and started to cry.

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