Page 111 of King
Dante walked over to where Hunter and I were trying to soothe a sobbing Mia, then pulled her into his arms for a hug.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart,” he whispered, then released her to give Hunter a one-armed manly hug.
With the kids’ and my approval, he called his lawyer the next day to have paperwork drawn up to terminate Clayton’s parental rights. Dante paid him a visit a few days later to get him to sign them and came home with fresh bruises on his knuckles.
When I asked what had happened, he told me not to worry about it. “My hand is fine, sugar, and the douchebag is a dentist. He can replace a few more veneers if he needs to.”
The kids approached him the next day, and asked if they could change their last name to Morgan once we were married.I was so busy crying that I almost missed the glossy sheen in Dante’s eyes as he told them he would like to formally adopt them, if that was all right with me.
That evening we went to the clubhouse, where I took him upstairs and showed him a new yoga position I’d learned. We came downstairs a little while later to a round of applause, catcalls, and whistles. Apparently, Dante had been even louder than usual.
I buried my face in his shoulder to hide my embarrassment. Dante chuckled as he leaned down and nuzzled my cheek.
“We’re going to have to add soundproofing to our bedroom at the new house,” I muttered quietly. He’d sold his house, and we’d bought the larger house across the street from me when Miriam Kirschbaum had decided to sell and move in with her kids. We were in the process of remodeling it, complete with my dream kitchen and a primary bedroom suite on the first floor, on the opposite side of the house from the kids’ bedroom upstairs. Dante also made sure that the shower and the free-standing bathtub were both big enough for two.
“Sorry, sugar. That’s what happens when you rock my world,” he said with a satisfied grin.
