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“Hmm. Maybe you deserve it.”
“Probably,” I acknowledge.
“And, if your daughter came home one day with a husband who was 21 years older than her-”
I raise a hand. “No. Please, don’t.”
“Nick!”
I groan and decide I don’t ever want to meet Savannah’s father. Whatever shit he may give me, it’s going to be well-deserved. “Promise me that we will only have boys.”
Savannah laughs. “They say boys are easier but I’ve always thought it would be nice to have a little girl.”
“Then, promise me that if we ever have a daughter, she will not be allowed to date until she’s 18.”
“Good luck enforcing that rule,” she says with a smirk.
“Trust me when I say I will do everything in my power to discourage any potential suitors.”
For a moment, neither of us says anything and I think back to when we ran into Avery and Ryker at the restaurant in Las Vegas. They were positively glowing and looked so prepared to be parents. I imagine I’d be the complete opposite. Completely frazzled and unprepared.
But, I guess that’s just a part of the learning curve.
I have a feeling that Savannah and I aren’t going to be the kind of couple who take the traditional path in life. So far, neither of us has-- we became models which isn’t your run-of-the-mill, average career choice and then we eloped at a cheesy Vegas chapel when we barely knew each other.
Yeah, with the way things are going, I wouldn’t be surprised if Savannah was knocked up in a week with triplets.
Oh, God, I don’t even want to put that energy out in the Universe. My luck, it would be three little girls.
Honestly, though, it would be kind of cute having three mini Savannah’s running around this place. I pull her into the crook of my arm and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Sav? By any chance do triplets run in your family?”
Savannah pulls back and looks up at me with wide, blue eyes. “No!” she exclaims with a laugh. “Why?”
“No reason,” I murmur and pull her back down into my arms. “Want to watch another movie?”
“Sure. As long as it’s a scary one.”
I chuckle and pull up an all-horror streaming service that we constantly watch.
“Nick?”
“Hmm?”
“Not to freak you out or anything, but my Grandma has a twin. And, her cousin had a twin. And, it usually skips-”
“A generation,” I finish.
I suck in a breath and Savannah stifles a laugh against my shoulder. “And, you were worried about one girl,” she says. “Silly man.”
Twin girls.
Hell, at this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised.
