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“You’re incorrigible. Go away,” I tell her.
“So you can have more phone sex with the sexy stripper?”
“We’re not having phone sex,” I defend, my husband’s deep chuckle filling the phone, and completely ignoring the stripper bit.
“Were too. I heard you. You were all panting and breathless,” Grandma says.
“You were. It was really fucking hot,” my husband says via phone.
“Stop encouraging her,” I tell him. “I need to go do Meggy’s hair so we can finish on schedule. I’ll see you later.”
“I’ll be the sexy fox in the suit who wants to fuck you on the beach later,” he croons over the phone line.
“Eww, no. Sand. All over the place. Don’t you remember…”
“Oh, I fucking remember. I fucking remember everything, Firecracker.”
“I remember digging sand out of places that I never want to again.”
“I’ll bring a blanket,” he adds sweetly. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” I tell him before hanging up.
“You two are smokin’ hot. I’m surprised you’re not preggers again,” Grandma says.
“We’re not trying.” Yet.
“Yet,” she replies in a singsong voice before turning and walking back into the main part of the salon, humming a happy little tune.
I drop my phone into my pocket, a wicked smile on my face and a shake of my head. I can’t believe I just agreed to have another baby. Well, not that it really took much convincing on his part. The thought of expanding our family is both exciting and nerve racking. We really do have everything set up well right now. We have a routine down, a schedule in place, a house the right size, and a system for ensuring the kids don’t completely overthrow the household.
Another baby?
With my super sexy husband?
Yeah, sign me up…
