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My eyes widen. “No!”
He fixes me with a hard stare. “Come. Here.”
“Ooh,” a woman’s voice says, and he gives an amused glance at the screen.
Muttering to myself, I walk around the desk to stand beside him and bend to look at his laptop. The screen shows three people in individual windows. I’ve seen the guy with the sharp haircut before at the bar. “Mack,” Saxon confirms, pointing to him. Then, “that’s Titus,” gesturing to another dark-haired guy who’s smiling. He has his back to a window, and it’s dark outside, confirming that he’s in the UK. “And that’s Elizabeth,” Saxon says, pointing to a woman with a sleek bob who I also remember from the bar. “Guys, this is Catie-with-a-C.”
“Hey,” they all say, and Mack says, “good to see you again, Catie.”
“Likewise,” I murmur, a little embarrassed.
“Congratulations on having twins!” Elizabeth says. “I have nothing but admiration for you. I’m thirty-five weeks, and one baby is more than enough for me!”
“It would have been for me,” I say, “but Saxon’s hoping to put together his own rugby team.”
They all laugh, and he grins. “Back in a minute,” he says, and mutes his microphone. He gets up, following me around the table.
“What did you do that for?” I say.
“I want to show you off.”
“Like a prize heifer?”
He chuckles. “There’s a joke in there about rump steak, but I’m too polite to make it.”
I nudge him. “Thank you for the chocolates.”
“Least I can do after knocking you up,” he says.
It’s hardly a romantic statement, but for some reason it gives me goosebumps, maybe because it makes me think about how the knocking up occurred. I’ve tried not to linger on the memory of that night because it makes me sad, but now I can’t help but think about how he pinned my hands above my head. How he thrust me to an orgasm before coming himself in a blaze of glory that inevitably fathered our two babies.
“For God’s sake,” he says, “go back to work.” He walks back to his desk and sits, looking a little sulky, and flicks on the microphone.
Not sure what I’ve done, I back out of his office, close the door, and return to my desk. Then I have another chocolate. What the hell. If I’m going to be the size of an elephant in a few months, I might as well enjoy myself.
Chapter Fifteen
Catie
At around twelve thirty, a woman carrying a baby and pushing a stroller walks into the office, bangs the stroller into the doorframe, and says, “Shit. I’d never pass a driving test with this thing.” She maneuvers the stroller in, then stops in front of my desk with a big smile. “You must be Catie! I’m Kennedy, Saxon’s cousin.”
I stare at her for a second. She’s about my age, average height, and with brown hair she’s wearing twisted up and clipped. She’s pretty in a striking kind of way, with hazel eyes and a wide mouth that curves upwards.
She also has a prosthesis on her lower left arm. It has a flesh-colored cover and is extremely lifelike, and I probably wouldn’t have noticed immediately if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s holding the baby in her right arm, so she uses her left to pick up the baby’s soft toy out of the buggy, and it’s clear from the movement of the fingers that it’s a prosthetic hand.
“He didn’t tell you,” she says, amused, lifting her hand to wave at me. “Typical.”
“I’m so sorry,” I reply, embarrassed, “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that he told me his interest was in upper limb prosthetics and, well, it makes sense why now.”
She smiles, then turns as Saxon walks out of his office. “Hey,” he says, coming over and giving her a hug before taking the baby. “And hello you!” He lifts him in the air, and the baby squeals and laughs. I flush with warmth at the sudden vision of him doing this with our children. Oh my.
“Come in,” he says, walking into his office. “And you, Catie,” he adds.
I follow Kennedy in and sit beside her on the sofa while he sits in one of the armchairs, Eddie on his lap. “Who’s this, then?” he asks, holding up the soft toy in the baby’s hand.
“It’s Puppy,” Kennedy says. “He cries if I take it away.”
“Aw.” Saxon boops the baby on the nose with the toy’s paw. “Do you love Puppy?”
