Just My Luck (King Family, #2)

by Lena Hendrix

Down the hallway, I stopped in front of the room I shared with the kids. I knocked twice but turned the handle to open the door. There was a mattress tucked into the corner and a makeshift bed on the floor. The queen-size bed wasn’t quite big enough for the three of us, so I’d made a pallet of blankets and pillows to sleep on to keep the kids from having to sleep on the floor.

Omg what a good mama

Unsure what to do, I turned and fled down the sidewalk in hulking steps toward the safety of the brewery. When I was out of sight, I finally slowed and pulled the notepad from my pocket. I scribbled down exactly the way Sloane smelled so I wouldn’t forget. Honey. Biscuits. Home.

I love this ❤️

My fist stayed clenched at my side, and I watched as Sloane jerkily lowered herself to one knee. I stared down at her in disbelief as she said, “So . . . Abel King, will you marry me?”

Sloane took one step forward and planted her hand against my chest. My heart hammered, and I prayed she didn’t notice. She smiled and my stomach swooped. “I’m going to be the best wife you’ve ever had.” She left me slack jawed and staring as she sauntered around the brewing equipment and disappeared down the hallway.

I frowned. “What about your ex? Is there a security system? Something to make sure help arrives if something happens?” Sloane scoffed. “No, Abel, there is not a security system on my grandfather’s hunting cabin. Look, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the only way to⁠—” “No,” I ground out. She reared back with wide eyes as though I’d slapped her. I settled my emotions and tried again. “No, it’s not the only way.” I sighed and rubbed my palms together. “If we do this—get married—then I’m not going to have my wife staying at some run-down cabin while her potentially dangerous ex-husband is lurking around town. That doesn’t work for me.” My wife.

My lips pursed. “You just seem . . . jumpy.” The glass pan rattled as he placed it on the oven rack. “I’m not jumpy. I’m just—” He blew a stream of breath from his mouth and pinched his eyes. “I don’t know.” Nerves tittered through me. I lowered my voice so the kids wouldn’t hear our conversation. “Look, if this is too much, you have to tell me. Just say it.” His dark eyes whipped to mine. “It’s not that. It’s not you or the kids. I just—” His shoulders slumped. “Sometimes I bake when I feel out of sorts.” My eyes went wide as realization dawned on me. “Are you telling me you’re a stress baker?” His eyes went flat, and he shot me an annoyed glare. “I didn’t say that.”

a stress baker!? Swoon

“You shouldn’t look at me like that.” I swallowed hard. “Like what?” I knew exactly how I was looking at her. Sloane slid the glass away, then leaned on the island. “Like you’re up to no good.” I let my smile spread, slow and easy. “I’m just looking at my wife and wondering how the hell I got here.” Her hand fidgeted with a stray piece of hair. Goose bumps prickled on her forearm, and I watched as her nipples peaked beneath the loose fabric of my shirt. I moved forward. “You like that, don’t you?” I stepped into her space, keeping my voice low. “When I call you my wife?”