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I laugh. “He didn’t look like the king of the gods.”
“Yeah, I’m betting Zeus had less acne. He’s a good lad, intelligent, works hard, but I don’t think his brain and his mouth are connected.”
I smile. “He hero worships you.”
“I’m sure he admires the coding, but I’m hardly hero material.”
“Your sons will think you are.”
I can see the surprise in his eyes as he realizes it’s the truth.
“That’s a nice thought,” he says.
“So does their mother.”
“Ah, flattery will get you everywhere.”
“I’m not flattering you. I’m telling the truth. Nobody else has ever bought me a present like this.” I touch the pendant.
His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. It was such a thoughtful gift. Is it… is it really a diamond?”
“It’s really a diamond. I wouldn’t buy the mother of my children anything less.”
Heat rushes through me. I might not be his girlfriend, but I guess I do have some status.
He clears his throat. “So tell me about the website. How did you go about it?”
We chat about coding for a while, as I tell him what I’d been studying, and how I put it into practice. “I was reading about prostheses, too,” I say. “What kind do you develop at Kingpinz?”
“We started with limbs. Damon is currently trying to find better solutions for people with inadequate circulation from conditions like diabetes. Kip’s been branching out—he’s quite interested in dental prostheses, larynx substitutes, and trachea and upper esophageal replacements.”
“And you? Where does your interest lie?”
“I’ve always been interested in upper extremity—myoelectric devices. They work via electrodes that sense when the muscles in the upper arm move and cause an artificial hand to open and close. We look at different levels of amputation: shoulder disarticulation, transhumeral prosthesis, elbow disarticulation, wrist disarticulation, full hand, partial hand, finger, partial finger…” He trails off and glances at me. “Sorry. I get over-enthusiastic.”
“No, I love it. I find it fascinating. I’m guessing you were into robots as a kid?”
He chuckles. “I had so many Transformers… I think Mum’s got them somewhere in a box. We can give them to the boys when they’re big enough.” He gives me a mischievous smile.
The boys… Our sons. My stomach does a strange little flip.
“What do you think your parents will say when they find out about me?” I ask.
“They’ll love you to bits. You’ll have to be prepared for a lot of hugging and tears. Mum will definitely cry. Dad will mock me, then probably cry too.”
“They won’t be angry?”
“Jeez, no. They’ve been at all three of us for years to give them grandchildren. I don’t think they expected me to be first!”
“And they won’t mind the way it happened?”
“I think they’re well aware of how babies are conceived.”
I give him a wry look. “I meant that we’re not in a relationship.”
“They’re decent people. They know mistakes happen. They look forward, not back. All they’ll be concerned with is what happens now.”
