Page 143 of Scorned Beauty

“That you’ve been a good son to us. You went above and beyond your duties because you love our family. You deserve to be happy and I’m shutting down any criticism she has about Sloane. She can give me the silent treatment if she wants. I won’t interfere if you go off on her if she insults Sloane or makes her feel uncomfortable.”

I laughed. “What did she say to that?”

“It made her think. I’m not sure I’ve gotten through to her yet. You know your mother.”

“I don’t want her coming around without invitation.” I’d already changed the code to the elevator and her keycard wouldn’t work.

Pop sighed again. “You know I don’t control her movements, but I’ll try my best to keep an eye on her this weekend.”

“Ask Lucy to help you.”

“Heaven help us.”

“Love you, Pop.”

“Love you, Dominic.”

I ended the call and took the bacon out of the oven. The pudding needed another ten minutes.

I felt her before she spoke.

“It smells good in here.”

A grin played on my lips. “Making sure I have breakfast for you.”

I turned around and was struck at how I wanted to keep this image of Sloane forever. She had her hair piled in a mess on her head, but what I loved the most was she was wearing one of my white dress shirts. That was all she was wearing. It looked good on her. She was barefoot, and she was holding a purring Ginger in her arms.

Me too, Ginger. I felt like purring in immense satisfaction that something I owned was touching her skin.

“She was waiting outside our bedroom door,” I told Sloane. “Did she bother you? I figured if I blocked her from entering the room, she’d cause mayhem.”

“She snuggled in bed with me. She doesn’t usually do that and wants breakfast.” Sloane approached. “She was surprisingly absent last night.”

I smirked. “That cat knows when she’s not wanted.”

“Mean.” Her short, husky laugh did something strange inside my chest. I wasn’t a man prone to romantic notions. Romance wasn’t in my wheelhouse. I understood nurturing to show love. I hadn’t had a girlfriend in over a decade. Did a man at my age even call his woman a girlfriend? That seemed so juvenile and a title that should be left behind for a guy in his twenties. Could I skip all those titles and go straight tofiancéeorwife?

I like the sound of wife better.

“What are you grinning at?” Sloane asked.

Without answering her, I dragged her close. Ginger hissed her displeasure and jumped out of the way before she got crushed between us. I swallowed Sloane’s surprised gasp with a devouring morning kiss. When I released her, she was breathing hard.

“Debating what to do with you,” I murmured. “Debating what to call you. Girlfriend sounds so immature.”

“And what have you decided?”

“Wifesounds better.”

“Dominic De Lucci, are you skipping a proposal and a wedding?”

“No. We can get the ring now and have the license ready.” I was dead serious. All these weeks of trying to get Sloane to forgive me and take me back, I wasn’t wasting time and was locking this woman down.

She pushed my chest. “You don’t know how to romance a girl, do you?”

“I can romance you all you want. Just as my wife.”

“I haven’t even told you I love you.”