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Alexis slides her fingers over Shirley’s orange fur. The cat immediately purrs, sounding like a failing muffler. I sit next to Alexis and rub Shirley’s forehead.
“I’m sorry I didn’t think of the heat,” I tell her.
Her dark blue eyes study my face before she frowns. “I’m a grown woman. I can tell when it’s hot. I should have mentioned something before I got so overheated.”
“You’re not used to asking for what you need.”
“That’s not actually true. I normally accept I can’t always get what I want. So, I convince myself I never wanted it at all.”
“Hey, Alexis,” Val says, and I suspect he’s doing our ma’s dirty work. “Want to see pictures of West when he was little and not yet potty-trained?”
Alexis smiles warmly at me. “There was a time when I also wasn’t potty-trained.”
“Here’s West when he was throwing a fit,” Val says and shoves his phone in front of her face.
“Had that one in the chamber, huh?” I grumble.
“Got all the best ones ready for today,” my little brother says and flashes me a slick smile. “There’s a picture where your teeny weenie is covered in jelly.”
Alexis stares at the picture as if something zapped away her joy. Worried she’s still overheated, I fan her.
“Don’t let the club guys see you acting so whipped,” Val warns.
Alexis slides off the couch and away from me. She holds her belly and looks around like she’s under attack.
“What’s wrong, babe?” I ask as my ma side-eyes Alexis.
“Nothing. Easy-breezy.”
I get up and notice her inching toward the back door. Leaning over, I whisper in her ear. “We’re in the boonies. There’s nowhere to run. You’ll just get hot again with no escape.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you might hurl,” Val says and grins at Ma-Poppy.
She instantly announces, “Don’t puke on the floor, please.”
I pick up Alexis and carry her “just married-style” to my bedroom, where I rest her on the bed.
“Won’t they hear me crying out your name?” she asks while glancing around my space.
Cuddling up next to her, I rest my lips against her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“You were a really handsome little boy.”
“So why do you look freaked out?”
“What if our kids have my red hair?”
“We’ve already decided they’ll be hot redheads, standing out in a family full of hot blonds and brunets.”
“I don’t want my kids to be at a disadvantage.”
“They’ll be beautiful and smart and grow up loved. Where’s the disadvantage?”
“They’ll be gingers.”
“Like their beautiful mom, who I love more than any blonde or brunette.”
