He leans down and takes my hands in his, pulling me to my feet. I fall against him and immediately the calm I’ve been looking for washes over me, a whelm of relaxation smoothing every part of me.
“Jesus, I should’ve thought this through,” he laughs. “Pushing you up against me like this is giving me some pretty frickin’ savage ideas.”
I giggle, nudging him playfully in the side. “It’s so funny when you say frickin’, my king,” I banter. “I mean, I’m happy you do. I don’t want the girls’ first words to be a curse word, but it’s just so frickin’ funny.”
“But it’s true,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing my neck, and then up, to my cheek, leaving a blossoming trail of warmth all over my face. “You’re too perfect. It’s too easy to imagine all the things I should be doing to you right now. I’m just glad the girls are here to tame the savage in me.”
I roll my eyes, seriously, the hardest eye roll there’s ever been. I’m surprised they don’t go out of my head.
“What?” he chuckles, reading me.
“It’s just, are you serious? I’m about as frumpy as frumpy can be right now. I haven’t even started to get rid of the baby weight.”
He narrows his eyes, confusion writ across his features. “Do you think I care about that?” he laughs warmly. His eyes gleam as brightly as his silver threaded hair. His square jaw twitches in his content smile. “You’re the sexiest person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Every time I look at your curvaceous figure, I’m reminded of how you carried our offsprings, of how your ample breasts feed Hope and Grace …”
“Nah uh,” I giggle, slapping his hot iron chest. “I know that look, bad boy. It’s not time for your feeding yet. Maybe later, though.”
He laughs and I giggle, but there’s a note of lust beneath each sound, and when our eyes meet I just know that if Hope and Grace weren’t here we’d give into our animal desire.
Even though we’ve moved to a sweeter stage of our relationship, with our wedding day being the sweet as candy zenith, there’s still this savage want that burns within both of us like fire.
I thought the girls might change that, but they haven’t, not at all.
Lorenzo loves and desires me, shaved or unshaved, baby weight or no baby weight.
“I love you,” I whisper, kissing him in a brief moment of tantalizing sizzling contact.
“I love you more,” he growls, sliding his hand down my body and clutching onto my hips. “And I just know you’re going to be incredible tonight. When you were rehearsing for me last night, I almost cried.”
“Ha ha,” I mutter sarcastically, jabbing him in the side again. “As if you’d ever cry.”
“Well, not cry, perhaps,” he allows, smiling banteringly. “But it moved me so much. And all the views and support you have online just goes to prove your talent is unquestionable. You never use auto tune, Lena, or any editing trickery to enhance your voice. You just are amazing, in every goddamn way, and I’m so glad I followed your song that day in the garden.”
“Me too,” I whisper, blinking rapidly as tears threaten to slide down my cheeks. “But you need to stop all this talk before I ruin the little makeup I’ve managed to put on.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing me firmly, our lips singing out a song of pure joy and pleasure. “You’d be just as beautiful without it.”
“I can’t believe I used to be your gardener,” I whisper, giggling. “And now I haven’t stepped foot in the garden for ages, I’ve been so busy.”
“That’s just fine,” Lorenzo smiles. “Because we’ve made our own perfect Eden right here, with the four of us.”
“And soon we’ll have more, Lorenzo. I just know my womb is desperate to give us more little DeLucas. I can feel it.”
He grins, leaning down for another kiss.
“There you go again, my queen, giving me savage ideas.”
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TEN YEARS LATER
Lorenzo
I stand at the grill, feeling like a primordial man who’s just lugged home a kill and is now going to feed his family. A glowing sense of belonging infuses me as I watch the smoke rise into the air and listen to the hiss of the barbecued meat.
Hope stands at my side, grinning up at me with her dark hair tied back in a ponytail. Her hair is almost the same color as mine but without the silver, and as I look at her I see my own eyes staring back at me.
“Daddy, can I help?” she says.
“What did we talk about?” I ask.
She furrows her forehead.
When she does that, I know that I was wrong, she isn’t one hundred percent me. That forehead furrow is her mother through and through, the same way she looks when she’s concentrating at her writer’s desk, laying out the lyrics for her next hit single.
Lena has flourished as a singer songwriter in these past ten years, going from that first sensational gig at the theater to venues packed ten thousand deep with adoring fans, all of them screaming her name.
She’s done collaborations with pop stars and rappers and, through it all, she’s retained the Eden like beauty and grace that made me fall in love with her to begin with.
She’s just Lena.
She’s just perfect.
And I’m the luckiest man in the world that she’s mine.
“Be careful,” Hope says, with an eye roll. “I know, Daddy. But I’m nine now. I’m basically a grownup.”
I shake my head, grinning. “How about this? I’ll lift you up and you can flip the burgers? But you have to be very careful.”
“Okay, Daddy. Yay.”
I tuck my hands under her armpits and lift her up, letting her pick up the spatula and carefully flip the meat. Once everything has been placed on the fresh side, I put her down and move to
