Page 101 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 4

“I agree with the boxing. Teenage boys need things to punch once in a while. All those pesky hormones.” She made a sour expression.

“And Emily?”

“She’ll soon learn she can’t string one boy along while kissing another.”

I snorted and chuckled. “True. And Ma?” I whispered.

“She’ll be okay in time. More time is needed. A lot more. We will help her heal.”

I loved Marisol even more for saying that. She’d become a solid resource for my mother, who questioned everything. When a person lived over twenty years with a vile, violent man who didn’t let them be a true adult, it wasn’t surprising that Mom was extremely awkward around other women. Marisol wouldn’t allow anyone to feel awkward around her. She’d push and pull until the person gave up and accepted her bossy, nosy version of love.

“And me?” I added just to see what she would say, never having asked her thoughts on Rhodes and me before. Not that it mattered. We were a done deal. But I was a little curious.

“You, my dear, are the best thing that ever happened to our little family. Alas, you are a bad cook. You lose points for that.”

“Mari-sol,” I enunciated her name. “That was soooo mean!” I laughed. “If I’m a bad cook it’s your fault because you’re the one teaching me.” I skipped right over her love-bomb of a message and went straight into easier waters. Marisol loved a good bickering sesh, which she always won.

She hit me with rapid fire Spanish that I had absolutely no hope of translating when she spoke so fast, but the results had Mom and me laughing like hyenas just the same.

* * * *

RHODES

Later that night, after I’d fucked my wife to the point where she could barely move, I asked the burning question I’d been worried about for months. We’d had so much going on in our lives, it never came up, and I certainly wasn’t getting any younger. I was coming up on thirty-nine while my wife hadn’t even turned twenty-five yet.

I threaded my fingers through Maia’s now shorter hair. After we got married, she chopped her curls to chin length. I loved it. The shorter length made her curls look even more enticing and I adored running my fingers through the silky spirals as I fell asleep.

I started our nightly conversation focused on the day’s events. “Today was a bit rougher than we’ve experienced since your family moved in with us, huh?”

She sighed, her breath puffing against my bare chest. “Yeah. Teenagers are a lot of work.”

I chuckled. “They are. Speaking of teenagers or children in general…”

Maia didn’t say anything or even breathe, but her body did go stiff in my arms.

“We never talked about us having kids.” I threw it out there, wondering where the conversation would lead.

Maia shifted off me and sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. “You already have a kid.”

I crossed my arms behind my head and rested my head in my hands. “Yeah, but you’ve never had one of your own.”

“Emily’s mine,” she responded instantly, making my heart swell to the size of Texas. It was the leeriness to her tone I didn’t like. “Are you about to drop a Portia situation on me? Is that why you went for the third O? Buttering me up for some new drama she has going?” she frowned.

I grinned. “No. And I know Emily’s yours, baby. No one is suggesting otherwise. I’m grateful you’ve taken on the role of mother to her so well. But what about you?”

“What about me?” She pressed her hand to her chest.

“You haven’t experienced being pregnant or caring for a baby.”

“And?” Her entire face scrunched up into one of disgust.

“Well, I just thought we should talk about the future. About whether or not you wanted to have a baby together. I’m not getting any younger.”

“And I am?” She scoffed. “What about our busy life says, let’s have a baby? Honey, do you want another child?” She winced.

Winced.

“I want what you want,” I chose my words wisely. If she wanted to expand our already large circus, I’d be happy to share that experience with her. Did I want it? Not particularly.

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