19. Lennon
LENNON
I don’t need a happily ever after.
I don’t believe in fairytales and haven’t for a long time.
Prince charming doesn’t exist. He’s a lie.
I want someone who’s going to show up for me.
Someone who will fight for us.
A prince lives his life for his country.
I want someone who lives his life for us.
I don’t want a fairytale.
I want a reality.
—Lennon’s Secret Thoughts
W hen I walk into the kitchen, Maddox is already standing behind the counter with a kettle beginning to whistle on the stove. He pushes my box of tea toward me, then grabs a mug from the cabinet and sets it in front of me, pulling a smile from my lips.
“Good morning,” I murmur as I add my tea to the mug and pour the water over, then stare at the man who gave it to me. Maddox Beneventi in jeans is a beautiful thing. And don’t get me started on this man bare-chested with pajama pants hanging from his hips. But him in a beautifully cut black suit with a gray shirt and his collar open... dear lord... he’s a sight to be seen.
“Lennon?” he questions.
I’m not even sure if he said anything else, so I ignore whatever it could have been and carry on like I wasn’t just caught staring at my future husband. “Are you going to il leone today?”
“Yeah,” he grins, and I know I’m busted. “I’m meeting with inspectors. I think we’re getting the okay to open. It’s just a matter of having everything ready now.”
“That’s exciting.” He slides a piece of toast with raspberry jam my way, and a teeny tiny piece of my heart softens, knowing he’s paid attention. Some women crave salt or sweets during their last trimester. But not me. Nope. Tea and toast. It’s all I’ve craved since the cravings hit. I take a bite, and my stomach grumbles.
“You’ve got to eat more, Lennon. How about you let me cook you dinner tonight?”
I take another bite of toast. “You just made me breakfast.”
“You’ve got to eat more than one meal a day. Come on.”
When a gorgeous man offers to cook for you, it’s nearly impossible to say no.
When it’s this man ... there’s no nearly about it.
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him and sip my tea. “I’m sure you’re busy.”
“I’m meeting with the inspectors, then catching up with Callen and my brothers for our tux fittings. I’ve got nothing after that.” He rounds the island and plants his arms on either side of me. Caging me in. “Let me feed you, Lennon.”
Oh my...
When he puts it that way...
Says it that way, with that voice.
Well, how could I say no?
“Okay,” I whisper.
I swear Maddox leans his face against my hair and inhales.
And oh my God... why is that so hot?
I try to ignore the way my body reacts to his, but before I get the chance to push him away—really, I was getting there—Maddox takes a step back.
He brushes his lips over my cheek, and I swallow my anxiety down.
My phone vibrates on the counter, and I grab it and toss it in my purse. “That’s Caitlin. I’ve got my final fitting this morning.”
He runs his big hand over my hair and tugs. “See you tonight, principessa .”
I watch him leave before I take my next breath and wonder what exactly I just agreed to.
* * *
“O h Lennon,” Gracie whispers, while Amelia, Caitlin, and Everly stand off to the side of the dais, silent. “You look stunning.”
Everly tugs at my train, straightening it. Judging the fit. “How does it feel?” she asks.
“It doesn’t matter how it feels,” Caitlin argues. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful bride. If you’re uncomfortable, you’re going to have to suck it up.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Amelia moves next to me. “You do look beautiful, but you need to be comfortable.”
“I think the cut at her bust should be lower,” Caitlin offers, and Amelia glares.
“This wedding is taking place at the largest cathedral in Philadelphia,” Amelia scolds her daughter. “It’s being presided over by a bishop, Caitlin. Do not tart up your sister-in-law. She looks perfect.”
Caitlin and Everly both giggle, while Amelia shakes her head with a beautifully sarcastic smile that makes me more than a little envious of their relationship.
I never had that with my mother.
I turn to really look at myself in the enormous three-way mirror and run my hand over my belly... over my baby... loving that he’s on display. “Everly, this is perfection. Thank you.”
She beams with pride. “I never thought I’d be dressing a real-life princess. Now go let Caitlin help you out of it while I dig out a few other things I have for you.”
“What other things?” Caitlin asks as we step into the dressing room.
“I said for Lennon,” Everly calls back.
Very, very carefully, Caitlin helps me out of my wedding dress, then takes it away. She’s waiting with the others when I step back out. A rolling rack of dresses sits next to them, and a smile is stretching across Everly’s face. “I may have gone a little overboard.”
“What?” I ask, utterly confused.
“You needed some new clothes, so we threw a few things together. But we definitely need to hit up Le Désir after this. You need new bras, stat, Lennon,” Caitlin adds as she shakes her head.
“Where?” I ask.
Amelia links my arm through hers. “Time to do a little shopping, Lennon.”
* * *
Maddox
“D ude. You’re the one getting married. Why the hell do we have to wear this shit?” Lucky groans as the sales associate adjusts his silver tie.
“Because you have to look good, you fucking idiot. How else do you expect to bag a bridesmaid?” Rome argues while I hang back.
Callen’s chest shakes with silent laughter. “You want to tell them the only bridesmaids are their sister and Gracie, who’s married with enough kids to fill a hockey team, or should I?”
“Neither. Let them live in their delusions for a few more days. They’ll find out on Saturday.” I don’t bother telling him I don’t give a shit what they think.
I’m too worried about everything else.
The wedding.
The shitstorm that’s going to rain down after.
How to keep Lennon and the baby safe through it all.
“You doing okay, Madman? You’re quieter than normal, and that’s saying something, you broody asshole,” Callen asks as they hand him the garment bag with his tux inside.
“Yeah. I’ll just feel better once we get through the weekend.”
Callen doesn’t call me out on the lie. He could. He knows me well enough to know I’m full of shit. But he doesn’t.
“Hey. Isn’t that Mom and Cait and Lennon going into the lingerie shop?” Rome asks, and all our heads turn across the street, and sure enough, there’s my bride-to-be. “Damn, Madman. Maybe she’s getting something sexy for your wedding night.”
“Yeah,” Lucky chirps. “Maybe it’s something edible.”
“Have you ever even had sex, you idiot?” I ask through laughter.
“Yeah, shitstain.” Rome smacks the back of Lucky’s head. “He doesn’t need to eat her underwear. Just her.”
I don’t bother telling them I don’t need sexy lingerie to do that.
Just permission.
Permission I haven’t been given yet.
* * *
“H oney, I’m home,” Lennon laughs when she walks in the house later that night. “Oh my God. What smells so good?”
“It’s a family recipe.” I grin once she finally steps into the kitchen. “Can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you.”
Her cheeks flush, and she drops her bags by the door.
“That’s a lot of bags, princess,” I tease and pull two cheeseburgers and truffle fries from the oven. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Oh my God. You remembered...” She looks like she’s going to cry as I set the plates on the new kitchen table that arrived earlier this week.
“Of course I did.” I grab the ketchup from the fridge and two bottles of water. “I remember everything, Lennon.”
“We had so much fun back then, didn’t we?” she asks, and the hesitance in her voice wrecks me.
“We did,” I agree and pull out a chair at the table for her to sit in. “It was a great two years.”
She pops a fry in her mouth and moans. “Do you remember the first time you made these for me?”
I sit back and watch her eat. “You mean the night you burned spaghetti?”
“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t enough water?” She laughs, and it tugs at places I buried a long time ago.
“I guess it was a good thing you didn’t like me for my cooking skills.” She adds ketchup to her burger and takes a big bite, followed by another moan. Christ. She’s killing me.
“I loved you, Lennon.” I tell her, refusing to allow her to downplay it to anything else. “Walking away was the hardest thing I ever did. But I did it for you. Because that was what you asked me to do.”
“I know,” she whispers before she winces and grabs my hand, then flattens it against her stomach.
“What— Are you okay?” Fear floods my system before her wince turns to a smile, and Lennon pushes down against my palm.
“Feel that?” she asks as she bites down on her lower lip and moves my hand the slightest bit, until something presses back against it. “That. Right there.”
I look from her to her belly. “Is that...?”
Words fail me.
Actually fail me.
“That’s our baby,” she whispers.