Page 67 of Her Age Gap Match

Jasper stood up and rounded the desk to grab her hand. “Ugh. It’s gorgeous. When the hell did this happen?”

“Last night,” I said. “But…I don’t get credit. She picked it out herself.” He gave me a look. “Also. I’m not fancy.”

“But he is big,” Poppy blurted out.

My eyes widened as I stared at her.

She shrugged.

“No secrets here,” she said.

I looked at Jasper.

“Okay,” he said, going back around the desk with slightly pink ears. “Noted. Moving on…for now.” He pulled something up on the screen, then glanced over at the door. “Sophie should be ready for you.”

“Thanks, Jasper,” I said.

“Congratulations,” he said.

We walked toward the consult room, Poppy leaning in to nudge me. “Sorry…he’s always messing with me and I figure turnabout’s fair play⁠—”

I snorted. “You can brag about my dick to whoever you want, baby.”

Now it was her turn to blush.

Poppy opened the door and stepped through first, with me following. Sophie was sitting on the other side of her desk—a setting I remembered well from my many appointments here, though I hadn’t had one since a first consult after me and Poppy came clean about being together back in December. Since then, Sophie had left it to us; we hadn’t needed much guidance, turns out.

Love is like that. The algorithm worked.

“You nervous?” Sophie asked with a wink as Poppy slumped to a seat.

“Of course I am,” Poppy said right away. “I mean…I know what you talk about in these appointments and I just—I know you too well to feel like that’s even a little bit appropriate.”

Sophie laughed and shook her head.

“Just want to get our ducks in a row since you both said you want kids and you set this as the date you wanted to start trying.” Her eyes darted to Poppy’s hand. “And…I see he got a yes?”

Poppy scowled. “You knew?”

“He may or may not have asked if I thought you would like the ring,” Sophie said.

Poppy turned to look at me.

I kept my face completely neutral.

"You asked Sophie about the ring," she said.

"I asked Sophie if emeralds were appropriate," I said. "She has good taste."

"He wanted to get it right," Sophie said. "And he did."

Poppy looked at the ring. Then at me. Then at Sophie.

"I'm surrounded," she said.

"You're loved," Sophie said simply, and opened her notebook. "Now. Let's talk about making you a mother."

Poppy exhaled and sat up straighter in the chair, like she was squaring herself for it. I reached over and took her hand, the emerald warm under my thumb.