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“I’m doing it.”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Poppins. I’m watching you.”
I leaned over the round table at the Manhattan café where we’d stopped for a quick lunch and slowly pulled a piece of pastrami from his sandwich. Riggs shooed my hand away with a napkin like a stern governess, then picked up the sandwich and shoved the whole thing into his mouth.
“What are you doing!” I groaned. That was half a sandwich. He could choke.
“Saving my baby. He can thank me later.”
Screw listeria. My love for cold meats knew no bounds, and it pained me to have to part ways with my favorite food while I was expecting. Especially now, when I’d passed the first trimester and was officially back in eating-everything-in-sight mode.
“You don’t know that it’s a he yet.” I munched on my grilled cheese reluctantly.
“Of course I do. Little Charlie.” He smirked.
“Charlie? Really?” My heart stopped beating for a moment. What a gorgeous homage.
“Fuck no.” Riggs snorted. “I just wanted to see your reaction. But I just think that, since Arsène and Winnie are having a girl, and Arya and Christian are having a girl, it’d be too much of a coincidence if we have one too.”
“I don’t want any gender disappointment.” I wiggled my finger in his face, taking yet another bite of my food.
“There’s never any disappointment where you’re concerned, Poppins.” He gave me a lopsided grin.
I was opening my mouth to tell him the feeling was mutual when someone stopped in front of us on the sidewalk eating area, blocking the sun from our faces.
“Riggs?”
My husband and I both turned to look at the person. A beady-eyed, slender man with freakishly long fingers. He was standing there with a pretty lady, staring at me like I was a ghost.
“Can we help you?” I asked in a crisp tone.
“SheisEnglish,” the man said, his jaw slacked with shock. “And she’s real. She really exists.Whoa.”
“Told you,” Riggs said smugly, leaning over to press a kiss on my mouth. I accepted the gesture greedily. I didn’t care who this man was—kisses from my husband were always welcome. “And I also said she was the most beautiful woman on Planet Earth. Did I not? Brutally honest.”
Riggs pivoted to look at the man, tipping an imaginary hat at the woman. “I assume you’re Mrs. Stauce.”
“You assume correctly.” She blushed under his sultry gaze.
Riggs nodded. “My condolences. Duffy, this is my former boss, Emmett.”
“You never did answer me about Croatia.” Emmett turned to look at Riggs, accusation carrying in his voice. “Why’s that?”
Riggs gestured toward me. “We’re working on our legacy and will be popping out babies for the next five years or so. Feel free to ask me afterward.”
After Riggs had come to London to confess his love for me, he quitDiscoverymagazine. Emmett had been trying to convince him to freelance for them ever since, with little luck.
“Five years is a long time,” Emmett said, looking extra surly.
Riggs shot me an adoring smile. “Not when it’s with the right person.”
