King (Sydney Storm MC 7)

Regret flashed in his eyes. “I have to head over to the clubhouse soon.”

My disappointment was high, but I didn’t voice it. “Okay then, how about I cook us breakfast before you leave?”

His lips were on mine fast before he smacked my ass and ordered, “Up. And take your time walking out of here.”

King wanted a show and I was more than happy to give him what he wanted. Slowly I found clothes as I went, but didn’t dress until I reached the door. His eyes all over my body as I slipped one of his T-shirts over my head was a damn good way to start the day. I’d been surprised he hadn’t wanted sex before we ate, but even if he had, I didn’t think I had it in me. Not after how many times he’d had me during the night.

I hummed to myself as I walked to the kitchen. After he’d dragged my fears about our marriage from me last night, I felt lighter. I hadn’t realised how heavy I’d felt about it before we’d talked. All I’d known was the last two weeks had been difficult, and I’d put that down to his moods. Sure, he’d been hard to live with, and that was some of the problem, but now we’d had that conversation, I understood my fears were part of the problem too. And while my mother’s frustrating ways didn’t help, King had been right to force me to see that I misinterpreted what she’d said.

God, if I was honest, I’d done that my whole life. And I knew Zara had the same problem with me. The mother/daughter relationship was such a minefield of possible misunderstandings and heartache.

“Do you feel like bacon and eggs?” I asked when he joined me in the kitchen.

He gave me a look as if I’d asked him the dumbest question in the world. “I always feel like bacon and eggs.”

I grinned, loving his easy mood. Loving the place we’d gotten to after talking about my fear of failing again.

While he settled his ass on the stool at the breakfast bar, I grabbed the bacon and eggs from the fridge, and caught him up on what was going on with the kids next week.

Since he’d moved in with us, he’d involved himself in every aspect of my children’s lives. King was more hands-on than Linc was or ever had been. Linc talked up his fathering skills, but his actions didn’t always match his talk, especially since he’d started dating his current girlfriend. King, on the other hand, spent more time doing and less time talking. Something he’d initiated, that I cherished, was our Sunday talk about what everyone had on over the next week. Together we came up with a plan for how to tackle it all.

“I can get Robbie to karate on Tuesday afternoon if Linc can’t,” he said after I told him I wouldn’t be finished work in time to do it. “But getting Zara to her maths tutoring could be hard. I can have one of the boys take her if you’re good with that.”

I’d just finished cooking our breakfast and slid his plate across to him with, “I love you, and yes, that’s good with me.”

Taking the seat next to him, I started telling him that the girls wanted me to go out with them next Saturday night. Monroe had found a new club she wanted us to check out. “I know I don’t usually go out with the girls on the weekends the kids are here, but—”

“You can’t next weekend.”

“Have you got something on?”

He looked at me. “We’re bringing the wedding forward. To next weekend.”

“Huh?”

“Next Saturday, Lily.”

I blinked, confused by what he said. Putting my knife and fork down, I held up my hand. “Okay, stop, because I could swear you just said we’re getting married next Saturday. And that’s some crazy talk because there is no way I will be ready for this wedding in a week.”

He shovelled bacon into his mouth with a nod. “You will be ready because it is happening. In a week.”

I stared at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? What’s the rush?”

He finished eating and pushed his plate away before turning to face me. “I don’t want to wait any longer. And also, I’m fairly fucking sure that if you spend another three weeks thinking and planning, you’re going to send both of us fucking crazy.”

“Well you can’t just make this decision on your own. I need a say—”

His phone sounded with a text and he swore as he read it. Then, looking at me, he said, “I’ve gotta go. I’m hoping this won’t be an all-day thing again, but it might be.”

“King, we haven’t finished talking about the wedding.”

We can’t bring the wedding forward.

I don’t have a dress.