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“I’m not kinky, I’m perfectly normal, it’s your brain that’s askew, and once again, haven’t thought about it, would never think about it, and neither would he.”
“You seem to know a lot about it.”
“Because I know what it’s called? That’s hardly knowing a lot about it.”
“I bet you’ve watched some though. On porn sites.”
My lips curve up. “That’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Of course not. Fantasy’s one thing. No problem with fantasizing about stuff. Very different to do it in real life.”
“Do you fantasize about me and another guy?”
“Christ, where’s this coming from? No! Absolutely not. I’m not sharing you with anyone else, not even in my dreams.”
“All right, Mr. Selfish.”
I narrow my eyes at her. She likes doing this—teasing me, pushing my buttons. I don’t think she realizes she’s doing it. It normally means she’s feeling frisky, and she’s subconsciously trying to rile me up. Secretly, I love it, although I pretend to get frustrated.
“Keep on like that,” I tell her, “and I’ll put you across my knee.”
Her eyes dance as they meet mine. “You wouldn’t.”
I lift an eyebrow. Her eyes widen a little, and I know she’s wondering whether I’d actually go through with it.
“Not sure I’m keen on the father of my children being a fan of capital punishment,” she says.
“I think you mean corporal punishment, unless you believe I’d put the twins on Death Row.”
That makes her giggle again. Laughing, I pull her toward me, water sloshing around us, and she squeals and says, “You’re splashing over the side!”
“Don’t care.” I slip a hand to the back of her neck and kiss her, and she moans and wraps her arms around my neck.
Needless to say, that scenario ends with us in bed, making the mattress slightly damp.
*
The next day, I park near Red’s Rib Shack on the waterfront, and the two of us get out of the car.
Catie’s wearing a new pair of black maternity trousers and—unusually for her—a hot pink maternity top that says ‘Make it a Double’. She’s nearly twenty-three weeks now, curvy and beautiful, and I adore the pink top that clashes outrageously with her red hair. She’s growing in confidence, both with the babies and with me, and losing some of her wariness, although it creeps back in as we walk up to the restaurant, and she moves a bit closer to me.
“Deep breaths,” I say. “This is going to be fun.”
Kip’s waiting outside, looking at his phone, although he smiles at us as we walk up.
“Hey,” he says.
“No sign yet?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “She says she’s five minutes away. I’m just hoping she doesn’t back out at the last minute.”
“Aw,” Catie says, “I’m sure she won’t. She’d have to be crazy to pass up a chance to date you looking like that.”
He looks down at himself. “Have I overdone it?” He’s wearing a white dress shirt over his black trousers. The inside of the collar, the placard, and the cuffs where he’s turned them back a couple of times are a silvery-gray.
“No,” she says softly. “You look lovely.”
