Page 89 of There Are No Words

“It’s like plastic surgeons. Some of them specialize in the enhancement and reduction of tits.” Mumbling, he added, “Not that I know why any woman would want to reduce them.”

I swatted his arm. “Brady!”

“What? I’m just saying.”

“Well, say something else.” I leaned forward, exhaling. “Why don’t we talk about this article I just read? Did you know that if—heaven forbid—I don’t have a timely labor, there are ways to induce it?”

He shifted in his seat, crossing his leg over his knee so it brushed up against me. “You think you’ll have a problem going into labor?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure.” I fixed my hair into a ponytail, trying to get the loose hair off my back. Everything today was making me itchy. “But knowledge is power.”

“So let’s hear it.”

I smacked my lips together, raising a brow. “Sex.”

“Excuse me,” he sputtered.

I chuckled. “It’s true. Apparently, if we have sex, then it can induce labor.”

He cocked a brow. “How the hell does that figure?”

“Easy. Your semen ripens my cervix.”

“All right.” He scratched his chin. “That’s way too clinical. Sex shouldn’t be clinical.”

“Technically, it is, because you fucked me hard, and your swimmers got me pregnant. Thus, clinical,” I replied with a satisfied smile.

A notification popped up on my phone.

Bianca:Look what I just bought the baby!

Bianca:*sends photo*

I laughed, and Brady leaned over, trying to look at the screen. “Bibi bought the baby something,” I said.

He shook his head, not even waiting for me to show him what it was. “Nuh-uh.”

I raised a brow.

“Sorry, but the last thing your sister bought you was a penis, and that was enough.”

I gave him a lower-your-voice look because I was beginning to be slightly embarrassed. “It was a pillow,” I whisper-shouted. “Get over it.”

He crossed his arms. “Well, it’s gone now anyway.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nipple stimulation is another one.”

His eyes practically popped out of his head. “Another what?”

Bringing the conversation back to the one we had been having earlier, I explained, “Another way to get me to go into labor faster.”

He cleared his throat and pulled on the back of his neck. “I don’t want the clinical explanation for that one. So spare me the details.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself, but it causes my uterus to contract.”

He narrowed his eyes and brought his hands to my sides, making it hard to stifle a laugh. I was ticklish there. “Brady,” I warned. “Brady.”

Before I broke out into laughter, the door opened and a woman called, “Allegra Morelli.”That’s me.

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