Until July (Until Her #1) 9

“Chest-to-chest,” I mumble then watch as he slips off his clothes and turns out the light. When his body compresses the bed, I snuggle into his side, and he pulls me up and over until I’m lying on top of him with my legs between his.

“Love you, baby.” His hand runs down my back, but I’m too out of it to reply, so I just kiss his chest and give him a pat. His body shakes and I know he’s laughing, but I ignore it and fall asleep.

Chapter 14

I wake up and look at the clock then down at the warm, sweet woman that’s asleep on top of me, closing my eyes. I couldn’t imagine not waking up to her everyday for the rest of my life.

I kiss her hair and roll to the side, fighting myself from sliding back inside her as I adjust her on the bed. These moments are the hardest. If I could spend my days with my mouth on her or my cock inside her, I would, but I need to get up and feed the boys then go over and meet her dad.

I never thought I would be asking a father for permission to marry his daughter, but with July, I know her dad’s approval is important, and if I’m honest with myself, it’s important to me as well. It would mean he thinks I’m good enough for his daughter.

“Stay with me,” she mumbles in her sleep, burying her face in my chest and making me smile.

“I gotta get up, baby,” I tell her, sitting up.

“I don’t want to get up.” She pouts, making me chuckle.

“You don’t need to get up; you can sleep.”

“Okay, good,” she sighs, then tugs my pillow down, hugging it to her chest. I run a hand down my face and pick up my sweats off the chair, pulling them on, and then head to the kitchen.

“Hey.” I pause to give Capone a scratch then go to the kitchen and set up the coffee pot before getting the boys their food and feeding Taser, who just tweets when he sees me. I still laugh when I think of his name and the fact if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have met July. Once I finish a cup of coffee, I grab a bottle of water, the bottle of aspirin from the cabinet, along with a glass of orange juice, and take them with me, setting them on the side table, so when July wakes up, she will see them.

I pull out a pair of jeans and a thermal shirt, taking them with me to the guest bath so I don’t wake her up.

Once I’m done showering, I dress quickly, put on my boots, grab my wallet and cell, and then head to my truck. When I open the door for the garage, the light comes on and I smile then laugh, going back into the house to grab a rag so I can wipe down the side of my truck, where July’s ass-print is. I don’t think her dad would be cool with me showing up with proof on the side of my truck that I’m trying to get his daughter pregnant, I think, then pause and lower my head, trying to breathe as I realize what I just thought. I know deep down it’s the truth; I would be happy if she had my kid. Fuck, I would be over the moon about it, and my mom…hell, my mom would be fucking thrilled to be a grandmother.

“One thing at a time,” I tell myself as I finish wiping down the truck.

By the time I pull out onto the highway, I feel like I’m preparing to go to war. I know that no matter what her dad says, I will still have July as my wife, but I want his approval, not for myself, but for her. I bought her ring two weeks ago, and I can’t wait to put it on her finger.

When I pull up to her parents’ house, I get out and November opens the front door, meeting me on the porch. “Hey, Wes. Where’s my daughter?”

“Still in bed. She had a little too much fun last night with her sisters,” I tell her on a chuckle.

She starts laughing and gives me a hug once I reach the front door. “The girls are still in bed, and when I offered them breakfast, they started throwing stuff at me. So would you like some breakfast? I have plenty.” She smiles, and I can plainly see where July got hers from.

“I’d like that,” I agree, following her into the house and to the kitchen, where she has a whole buffet of food prepared.

“I got a little carried away, but I like having the girls home, and I know one way to keep them coming back is by keeping them full while they’re here,” she says on a grin.

“I have no doubt they would continue to come back, even without your food,” I assure her, seeing a lot of my mother in her.

“You hitting on my wife?” Asher asks, coming into the kitchen, and I hide my smile. These two have most likely been together for a good twenty years, and you can tell he is still possessive and protective of his wife.

“Don’t know if that would bode well with you agreeing to let me marry your daughter,” I tell him, and his eyes flash with respect, the same look he has given me since the first time we met, and some of the anxiety about this moment leaves me.

“Don’t suppose it would,” he concurs, patting my shoulder then kissing his wife, whispering something to her that makes her snap out of her daze.

“Coffee?” he asks me, holding up the pot.

“Yes, sir.” I nod, and he fills a cup for himself and one for me.

“Do you think you deserve my girl?” he asks, and I’m actually impressed that’s his first question. I take a drink of coffee and look at July’s mom, who is watching me closely, more closely than she has any other time I’ve been around her before.

I swallow and set my cup on the counter. “No.” I shake my head. “There’s probably someone out there who can give her more than I can, but I would kill that guy before I gave him the chance to prove me right.” I look at her mom then her dad. “I love her with everything in me. Since almost the moment I met her, I’ve felt a pull to her unlike anything I have felt before. I don’t deserve her, but no one will ever love her like I do or will.”

“Oh my,” one voice says from behind me, but I don’t take my eyes off Asher.

“If we’re voting, my vote is yes,” another voice says.

“He has my vote too,” comes a third.

“I love my sister, but if she says no, I’m here.”

“April!” November snaps, making me chuckle.

“All right, son, you have my blessing. Now you just have to ask my girl,” he says, and the word son fills me with a sense of pride.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me; turn around and look at the girls behind you,” he tells me, and I do as he says, taking in July’s four sisters. “I didn’t have any boys. I had five girls…five beautiful girls I swear to Christ were put on this earth to torture me.” There is a lot of yelling, “Hey!” from the girls, all of them glaring at him. “You’re the first man, which means some of this weight has been lifted off me, and you now have the responsibility of helping me look out for my girls. Welcome to the family,” he says, lifting his cup to me then to his mouth and taking a drink.