Page 12 of Sexting The Tattooed Outlaw (Curvy Boss Babes of Wild Bronco #3)

“Come on. I need you to see.”

“Sam…can’t we look at it tomorrow morning? I know you’ve worked hard on the renovations,” my wife says. “But my feet hurt.”

I turn, lifting her into my arms.

“Better?” I ask.

She catches her breath, resting a hand on her round bump.

“Better,” she says.

I march us across the parking lot of Fiction & Foam. People are staring, but I don’t care. Every small town gossip in Wild Bronco loves to talk about the fact that the Beaumont heiress married the same tattooed outlaw who stole and wrecked her daddy’s truck.

I don’t hang my head in shame anymore. I’ve more than made up for my mistakes, and Kay’s family forgave me a long time ago. Now that I’ve put a ring on Kay’s finger, I’ve got everything I need. Nobody else’s opinion matters.

We walk towards the coffee shop. Instead of going inside, I take her around the back, where I’ve been working my butt off for weeks to create the patio seating area of her dreams.

I put her down, careful to be gentle with her and our growing baby girl.

“Okay. Notice anything?” I ask her.

She frowns.

“Um…you put more shingles on the overhang,” she says.

“Nope.”

She looks around.

“Oh! You hung the fans!” she points to the large fans hanging from the porch ceiling.

“Well, yes, I did that today too,” I say with a laugh. “What else?”

Kay takes a look around and then looks at me.

“Sam, I give up. What is it?”

I grab her hand, bringing her to the other side of the porch where the stone fireplace is.

Kay insisted on an outdoor fireplace, something she and her customers find essential to the “cozy vibe” of Fiction & Foam.

I happily obliged, laying brick by brick for the past few days – all by hand.

The scaffolding is still here, and it’s not finished yet.

But one thing is.

“Look,” I say, taking her closer to the fireplace.

“What…oh!”

She puts a hand over her mouth.

Just above the natural wood mantle, there are engraved bricks that I had to special order, weeks in advance. They match the red-brown tone of the surrounding bricks, but have black engraving in them.

Kay Wallace

Sam Wallace

Clara Wallace

She whirls around.

“Really?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“You told me you weren’t sold on the name Clara, though,” Kay says. “You said you need to think about it.”

“Well, I thought about it,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her. “Clara is your top pick, right?”

“It was, before you vetoed it,” she says, scrunching her nose up at me. She’s so damn cute, even cuter pregnant. I love this woman so much, I think it’ll kill me.

I grin.

“Then the name is Clara,” I tell her. “Besides, your dad will love it.”

“It was his mother’s name,” she agrees. “He’ll probably cry.”

“I don’t know if I can handle seeing your old man cry,” I shake my head. “I’ll leave the room while you tell them the name.”

“Don’t you dare!” she says. “You’re a part of this family, Sam Wallace. You will witness all of the uncomfortable emotional moments. No fleeing allowed.”

You’re a part of this family.

Damn right, I am. Not just because I convinced Kay to marry me and then promptly put a baby in her, but because I’ve earned the right to call the Beaumonts my family.

I’m the man I always wanted to be back when I was younger.

Strong and dependable. A backbone for the family while they endure Adam’s illness.

He’s still doing alright. Actually, his doctor said he seems to be getting stronger. With me around, he’s been able to step back from running the business and rest more.

“Clara Wallace,” Kay sighs. “I just love it. It sounds so perfect.”

It sure does.

She turns to me.

“You’re sure?” she asks. “I don’t want you to hate the name.”

“I don’t hate the name. I love it. It’s already our daughter’s name, I can’t think about the name Clara without thinking about our little girl,” I tell her. “We can save the name Kaydra for our next daughter.”

She shakes her head.

“I’m not even done making this one and you’re already plotting for the next,” she says.

“Of course I am,” I tell her. I kiss her softly before whispering against her cheek. “You know I’ll knock you up again and again. As long as you’ll let me. I want as many babies as you’re willing to give me.”

She giggles.

“Let’s just see how the first goes,” she says. “And if we have another, I think it’s going to be a boy.”

“You do?”

“It’s just a feeling,” she shrugs. “For a boy's name, I’m thinking…Sam Junior.”

“What?” I sputter. “Kay, absolutely not. I’m not naming my son after me.”

“Why the hell not?” she asks with a grin.

“I’m not…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not worthy, you’re not good enough, or any of that nonsense,” she warns me.

“I wasn’t gonna,” I lie. I pull her close to me.

“Good. Because I think it would be amazing to have a son who is just like his daddy.”

She really means it. And me? I can’t believe I’m so lucky. How’d I get this incredible woman to look up at me with those adoring eyes?

My wife has always looked at me like I’m the hero instead of the villain.

She stands on her toes, her bump pressed against my torso, tilting her chin up for a kiss. I’m happy to indulge. When we break away, she takes my hand.

“Let’s go home,” she says. “I’ve got pregnancy hormones coursing through my veins and I need you inside of me.”

I grin.

“Yes, ma’am.”