Page 97 of Marrying Mr. Majestic

“No, it’s fine.”

“Don’t ‘fine’ me, Mayor,” I warned.

He looked everywhere but at me. When he finally met my eyes, I could see his worry. “I don’t know anything about babies. What if I’m not a good uncle? What if I can’t stop it from crying or can’t tell the difference between a hungry cry and a ‘string wrapped around its toe’ cry?”

“I… don’t know what that second one is.”

His face fell. “You’re going to be even worse than me at this.”

I bit back a laugh. “Babe. We’re going to figure it out. Do you think for one minute Aunt Blake is going to let us near this kid without supervision until we learn how to work it?”

Way’s forehead crinkled. “Maybe you’re right. And my cousin Anna did loads of babysitting when she was growing up, so she knows what to do. Come to think of it, Sheridan helped when ZuZu was little. We have pictures in the albums at home.”

I pulled him into my arms and kissed the edge of his mouth. “Does this mean now isn’t the right time to tell you I’m pregnant, too?”

His eyes widened. “Do you want kids?”

I blinked at him. “You know I’m joking about?—”

“Of course I do. Answer the question, though. We haven’t really talked about it. I don’t even know if you like kids.”

I shrugged. “I guess I don’t really have a strong opinion one way or the other at this point. When I first met you, I would have said my lifestyle wasn’t compatible with kids, but now… I mean… if you wanted kids, I’d be up for it. I want you to be happy, Way. And if having kids would make you happier, then of course I’d want kids with you.”

He took a deep breath and then smiled wide. “You’re trying to get in my pants right now, aren’t you?”

“Is it working?”

“Silas Concannon, you could vomit and step in horse shit at the same time, and I’d still want you in my pants.”

“That… isn’t the come-on you might think it is.”

His smile softened. “I love you.”

“Do you want kids?” I watched his face closely to make sure I learned the truth regardless of his words.

His eyes sparkled. “I say we use Sheridan as a guinea pig.”

I snorted. “Strategic thinking. I like it. We’ll consider it an assessment phase.”

He nodded. “And we’ll analyze the data at various points. Make conclusions and whatnot.”

Sheridan grabbed the back of Way’s shirt and pulled him out of my embrace. “You going to congratulate me, big brother, or did your irrational fear of babies rear its ugly head?”

I gaped at him. “You have a known fear of babies?”

He flapped a hand at me dismissively. “Not anymore. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Sheridan glanced at me. “He ran screaming one time when JoJo Reynolds brought little Caden into the cafe in a baby carrier on her chest.”

“Eons ago,” Way added.

“Two years ago,” Bo corrected before licking a drip of ice cream from a cone.

Way scratched the back of his neck. “Those baby carrier harnesses are a little freaky. It looks like you’re carrying a hunting trophy on your chest. Or a butterfly pinned to a display board.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Lilliputian Man. You know, the Da Vinci drawing with the arms and legs splayed out? That. That’s what it looks like. It’s weird.”

Everyone stared at him while I tried not to laugh at how adorable he was. “Vitruvian Man,” I corrected.

Camille almost spit out her drink. “You ran screaming from a sweet little baby because they were in a sling?”

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