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“I think it’s incredibly romantic. All my little swimmers, racing through your body to fertilize your egg. Fuck Valentine’s Day, this is what it’s all about.” He strokes my belly. “Go, boys, go.”
I close my eyes. “It’s like Casanova all over again.”
“I might have inseminated you tonight. Tell me that’s not the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard.”
I smile, and slowly drift off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
Huxley
When we go up to the saloon at seven the next morning, the first people we see are Mack and Sidnie, sitting at a table, eating breakfast.
We put an order in with the chef, then join them at the table. I slide onto the bench next to Mack, and Elizabeth takes the chair next to Sidnie. The steward comes up and pours us a steaming hot coffee. Mack watches us as we sip it, his lips curving up as our eyes meet.
“You put the banana in the fruit salad, then,” he says.
Elizabeth blinks. “What?”
“The horizontal tango? Parallel parking? Riding St. George? Opening the Gates of Mordor?”
That makes me laugh, but Elizabeth still looks baffled. “Are you speaking English?”
“Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo?” Mack suggests.
“Mack!” Sidnie looks mortified. “I’m so sorry,” she says to Elizabeth. “He’s not worked for two days and his ADHD has gone into overdrive.”
“I don’t need to ask whether you had sex last night,” Elizabeth says to him tartly.
“What can I say?” He crunches on some toast. “I’m irresistible.”
“Jesus.” Sidnie gets up. “I’m getting some more toast.”
“I’ll join you. Anything to escape this madman.” Elizabeth joins her at the food table.
Mack grins at me. “So is it all sorted?”
“Mind your own business.”
“Did you put a bun in her oven?”
I give him an exasperated look. He raises his eyebrows.
“I’m working on it,” I concede.
He smiles then. “Good lad.”
“Don’t talk to me like you’re my father.”
“I’m wise and insightful now I’m married. I’m practically a sage.”
“More like parsley if you ask me. The flat-leaf sort, not the curly sort.”
He chuckles.
The two of us watch the girls at the breakfast table, chatting and laughing, and we exchange a smile.
“She looks happy,” Mack says. “Elizabeth, I mean. Happier than she did yesterday, anyway.”
