Page 140 of Veiled Amor

Judge was waiting outside to drive them home.

Capone wasn’t naked when she let herself into their apartment. Still, it wasn’t bad because he was standing at the kitchen counter slicing fruit (her craving was fruit, fruit, and more fruit, so her loving husband made her a big bowl of fruit salad every night to nibble on) and he was dancing.

If not already job done, her ovaries would have released a flood of eggs for how horny she felt watching that perfect backside dancing to Safari by J. Balvin, blasting from Alexa. He was singing along too.Badly. Capone might be the total package, the sexiest and most lovely man on the earth, but dear god, he sounded like a wounded squirrel when he tried to sing.

As she kicked off her shoes, she tossed the purse onto the couch and watched him, her hands going to her rounded stomach, while the boys did their rendition of salsa dancing in her womb.

She felt like one of those cartoon characters with love pouring out of her eyeballs.

Every day it got worse.

She had a husband who loved her more than life itself; she knew this because he wasn’t stingy with his love affirmations. But his love language, as she’d discovered, was doing things for her. Her car needed seeing to? Capone was there before she even had to ask. She wanted to change the nursery color? He had it sorted.

Lucky didn’t even describe how she felt.

She was cherished every day.

“Get over here and kiss your husband,” he said in his raspy voice, without turning around. When he did, his eyes were amused and smoldering.

Of course, he knew she was home.

Capone, months ago, put a tracking app on her phone, one in her car and another in a piece of jewelry she wore daily. Any other woman might have objected to being so closely monitored, but she knew it was for his peace of mind.

“Sexy girl,” he rumbled against her neck when she walked into his arms.

“Oh, sure. My waddle is hella sexy.”

A hand swatted her behind, and she felt a hot stirring down below. “Sexy, I said.” Mmm, he was very good at that too. Making her feel desirable, especially on days when Lucia felt as big as a submarine. “How ismi amor? Did you have a good night with the girls? Are my sons making you ache?”

“It was fun, but you know I’m always glad to come home.”

They loved being together. More often than not, Lucia was there with him at the club.

Preacher still let them use his pool, but he always gave them the stink-eye as if he’d known what they got up to that first time. She prayed their backyard didn’t have cameras for the times Capone got frisky with his hands under the water and in her bikini bottoms.

And she’d found a love of going on long rides with Capone until she was too big.

If she was with Capone, Lucia was happy. Her heart was a simple organ and needed little.

“And the aches?”

He worried, so she didn’t lie. Her blood pressure was higher than usual, but she was carrying two big babies; give her a break. “A little.” He swayed her to the music, holding two hands under her bump to relieve her of the weight. God, it felt incredible. “Do you know what I want?”

He rumbled a noise with his mouth to her throat. “Tell me,amor, what you want and how it involves my obliging dick.”

She laughed and pinched the skin on his ribs. He always knew, didn’t he?

“I want a warm bath and to climb into bed.”

“With me and my dick?”

“Of course.”

Capone grinned, and he leaned down to kiss her. A kiss that ignited her body and set fire to her soul. She clung to his shirt front, breathless with her skin tingling. He still went to her head like a bottle of tequila.

“Relax in the family room,micorazón. I’ll run you a bath.”

“You’re the best husband ever. And I should know, I’ve had two.”

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