“Oh, he has no clue what we’re talking about, do you, mate?”
“My brothers,” Carter told her, still almost entirely focused on his action figures.
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Nan, seriously. I’m not having this convo with you in front of my child.”
“What convo?” My brother asked as he came through the front door.
“Uncle Luke!” Carter abandoned his toys and launched himself at Luke.
“Anal,” Nan stated loudly, which made Luke’s eyebrows shoot up. The look he gave me was both horrified and amused at the same time.
“Oh yeah? Obviously not something Sunshine’s into, otherwise she wouldn’t keep getting knocked up.”
“That’s exactly what I told her.”
I looked between my nan and my brother, who was swinging my screaming, child upside down by his ankles.
“Told her what?” Liam entered the room and asked.
“No,” I shouted and pointed at both of them. “Do not go putting ideas in his head.”
I watched in horror as Luke threw—yes, threw—my child what looked like twenty feet (although it was more like three) across the room to Liam. Lucky for my husband, he caught him, spun around in a circle, and then blew a raspberry on his naked belly before throwing him back to Luke.
“Anal as a form of contraception,” Nan kindly informed my husband.
I covered my face with my hands. “Little ears,” I reminded them all again with a groan.
“He’s no idea what we’re talking about, do ya, little man?” Luke asked my child, who was once again being swung upside down by his ankles.
“Anal!” Carter shouted. “What’s anal, Mummy?”
I sat up and glared at my nan.
“You. This is all your fault. You’re supposed to be here helping to get my blood pressure down, not making it bloody worse.”
“Bad word, Carter. We mustn’t say that one.” Nan had the good sense to at least pretend to look contrite before turning to Luke. “I’ll go and put the washing machine on and start dinner. Where’s your shi—stuff, Luke, in the laundry?”
“I left it by the front door. Thanks, Nan.”
Liam reached down and offered me his hand, and I took it. He pulled me straight up and into a kiss while Luke and Carter made ewww and yuck noises from behind us.
“Are you supposed to be upright?” Liam asked.
“Thirty seconds won’t hurt anyone.”
He lifted me up under my arse cheeks so I could wrap my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. Just like with my last pregnancy, my sex drive was off the charts, and my husband was more than happy to accommodate my needs.
“How long till dinner, Mai?” he called out.
“About an hour and a half, maybe two.”
“Excellent. I’m just taking Sarah upstairs for a nap.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days? It was called a bit of afternoon delight back in my day or a mid-day quickie.”
“There’ll be nothing quick about this—believe me.”
“Please, don’t encourage her,” I told Liam from where my face was now buried in the crook of Liam’s neck.
***
After our afternoon delight, which was anything but a quickie, I spent thirty minutes having an interesting conversation with my husband about anal and why we’d not ever tried it. Liam gave Carter a bath, I read him a story, and we both tucked him into bed. Then, we finally sat down for dinner.
The men were discussing China and supply and demand of something or other that failed to hold my interest, when Luke dropped into the conversation . . .
“Well, we’ll take it all into consideration when we’re there.”
“Where?” I asked, my interest specifically on his use of “we”.
Luke shot Liam a quick look, and the table fell quiet.
“China,” Liam said quietly, “and Hong Kong.”
“Both of you are going?”
“Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put my foot in it.”
“Don’t be sorry, Luke. You’ve done nothing wrong.” I looked pointedly at Liam, letting him know it was him I was pissed off with. Once the look was delivered, I decided not to be a bitch and cause an atmosphere at dinner, plus, winding myself up about it wasn’t going to do my blood pressure any good.
“When d’ya go?” I was pretty sure I managed the calm, interested, and friendly tone I was aiming for. Given my history and the fact that we were expecting twins, the doctors warned us that we should expect another premature delivery. If they arrived as early as Carter, they would be here by the beginning of December, and neither Liam nor I wanted him to miss the birth.
“November,” Liam said without looking at me.
“When in November?”
“The last three weeks.” He finally met my gaze, and I tried to keep my stare neutral, hiding the panic I was starting to feel bubble inside me. I had an uneasy feeling about this. It wasn’t just that I was pissed off. It was something else.