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“You’re dead.”
He takes in the scene, his mouth splitting into a wide, shit-eating grin. “Oh, that. Figured you could feel my pain.”
“Your situation differs from mine.”
“What are y’all jabbering about?” Jewls looks skeptically at her husband. “What did you do?”
“Informed me we couldn’t have sex for a week,” Rowan pipes in openly.
Jewls’ eyes pop and she backhands him playfully. “Where did that come from?”
“Wanted someone to commiserate with.”
“I delivered twelve pounds of humans two weeks ago. My vagina is in repair mode.”
My hard-on dies at her statement.
“Besides, it’s only eight weeks.”
“Six,” he counters, looking slightly panicked.
“Eight or more, depending on if we find birth control to repel your super-sperm.”
Rowan giggles, dropping her head to my shoulder. “Here we go.”
“Shutting this conversation down,” I announce, setting Rowan on her feet.
The shriek reverberates around the room, Jewls rushing over and shunting me aside.
“This is… Does this mean? Oh my God, are you engaged?!?”
“Yes.”
Jewls hops up and down with Rowan’s hand in hers so eagerly I’m afraid she’s going to pull it out of the socket.
“Baby, tone it down before you give yourself black eyes.”
She stops bouncing, slicing him a dirty glare. “My boobs are contained in this monstrosity of a bra that allows me to feed your boys every hour.”
“My boys don’t eat every hour.”
In a matter of a minute, we’ve gone from vaginas to birth control to sperm to now breastfeeding.
I’m done.
Thankfully, Harley and Ace walk back in. “We saw Jewls and Major leaving and knew your privacy was over.” She beelines for Rowan, inspecting her hand.
“It’s stunning.”
Rowan stares at her hand in wonder, a single tear falling.
“Baby?”
“Ford, it’s… it’s… I don’t have words. It’s the most exquisite ring I’ve ever seen.”
“You haven't seen your ring?” Jewls asks incredulously.
“Well, we kinda had some words, and then we were kissing… and about to do other things until you showed up.”
