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“This body was made for me,” I whisper against her lips, and she nips at my bottom lip as her fingers graze my collarbone.
“You were made for me,” she whispers back, her eyes full of love.
Just for me.
Our eyes stay locked for a long moment, only our lips brushing as I fall even more deeply in love with her.
“Hey,” I whisper, and her nose presses into the top of mine.
“Hey.”
My breath catches at how beautiful she is. How stunned I am under her gaze.
“When we’re worm food, Tennessee—”
“I thought we were going to be cremated,” she corrects, her eyes dancing with mine.
“Fine, I was trying to be romantic.”
“Told you being eatin’ by worms is way romantic.”
“So romantic,” I say dryly, rewarded with the most gorgeous grin. “When this lifetime is over…”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll find you in heaven. And I promise, we’ll fall in love all over again.”
Her breath catches as she gazes into my eyes. “I’ll be waiting.”
I kiss her nose. “Make sure that orange dildo makes it up there.”
Her laughter is quick, and beautiful bliss fills her face. My own laughter meets hers as our eyes lock in unadulterated love. “I’m stuck on your heart, D’Artagnan—” She pauses. “Wait, what is your middle name? How do I not know your middle name? You know mine.”
Instantly, I feel embarrassed. “Okay, don’t laugh.”
She’s already snickering. I have to look away so I don’t laugh with her. God, my mom is an idiot. “D’Artagnan Athos Porthos Aramis Miklas.”
“So, you’re named after all the Musketeers,” she says, and I nod. Her lips curve, and she sputters with laughter. “God, I feel for five-year-old Dart. As if just trying to spell your first name wasn’t hard enough.”
“It was always the apostrophe. I never knew where to put it.” Her laughter mingles with mine as I shake my head, holding her closer. “That’s probably why my mom split. She regretted her choices and had no desire to teach me to spell all those fucking names.”
Tennessee’s laughter is gone instantly as her face turns dark. “She split because she wasn’t, and still isn’t, worthy of your love.”
I lean my nose into hers.
“But I am. And I am truly stuck on your heart, D’Artagnan—” she kisses my nose “—Athos—” my cheek “—Porthos—” she takes in a deep, exaggerated breath before kissing my other cheek, and I grin wildly at her “—Aramis.”
I gather her in my arms, my lips almost touching hers. “I love you, Tennessee Lynn.”
Her smile falls, and she whines, “Do I really have to say it all again? I just love you, okay? All of you.”
With that, we crack up, our limbs tangling as our foreheads come together, the bed shaking from our laughter.
And as her beautiful eyes fall on me, I know, God, I know, she is worthy of my love.
I’m worthy of hers.
And nothing can touch what we have.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tennessee
I’ve seen Dart in many ways.
On my ESPN app, on TV, and—my favorite—in person. The smell of the ice, the roar of the crowd, and a beer in my hand amplifying how awesome of a hockey star he really is. I’ve seen him as a friend, a dude of honor, and my lover before he was truly mine.
But nothing, and I mean not a damn thing, could have prepared me for seeing him with children.
Celeste, his teammate Kirby’s daughter, sits on his shoulders, laughing loudly, while the baby, Raine, rides on his leg, the same laughter filling the living room with such joy as he walks around like a “monster.” The girls are adorable and so sweet, but my heart is swelling at Dart’s laughter. He falls to the floor, protecting Celeste’s head before she gets up to jump on him, Raine following suit. My heart, well, I don’t think it can handle the scene before us. My ovaries sure as hell can’t.
When I was younger, my mom used to say I had childbearing hips, and I always believed that meant I’d have a ton of kids. My mom only wanted one because she knew she’d have her best friends’ kids around her and wanted to be able to give me everything I could ever dream of. While I did have Lindy and Josie, when I was home, I was alone, and I wished I had siblings. So, with my childbearing hips, I figured I’d have a lot of kids, but that changed when Josie and Lindy told me that I shouldn’t because I’d just get bigger. That my husband wouldn’t want a super-big wife. That we’d have to keep up appearances. It was the main reason I went on birth control, to make sure I’d never get big for the husband I couldn’t keep if I were overweight.
I hadn’t even really thought about any of that until this moment. Until Dart grabbed the girls and covered them in kisses. As I watch him, I can’t believe I allowed my friends—and I use that term loosely—to ruin the idea of children for me. Or maybe it was fate.
