Page 125 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
“Let me?” The tone and my one raised eyebrow has him backtracking.
Immediately he holds up his hands. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Uh-huh.” I glance at the boys still absorbed in their game. “Just be glad I successfully wrestled for and won those headphones, otherwise if the boys had heard what you said, you’d be done for.”
The back door slams, and Matt walks in, pulling off an oven mitt. Pinterest had a recipe for smoked brisket that Brit thought would go great with her mother’s tamales, so the poor guy has been up even before his sons, stoking the fire, trying to maintain an even temperature all in the name of love and Pinterest.
“Oooh, Vance is in trouble,” Brit sings, then giggles.
“What did Vance do now?” Matt leans over and kisses his wife. His eyebrows jump when he gets a whiff of schnapps.
I pretend to be mad. “He said he won’tletme buy a house.”
“Hey, man.” Matt glances at his sons. “Let’s not get the feminist parade started again, okay?”
“I just meant”—Vance dips his head forward—"I’d feel bad you doing that by yourself. I don’t have that kind of cash. But if we put in a down payment and got a mortgage, we could split the cost, no problem.”
“Then we might not get the house.” I shake the listing in his face. “I want this house.”
He frowns, and I can tell he wants to argue, but he also doesn’t want to take the chance of me not getting what I want. He’s so cute.
I drop the paper and lean into him, lifting my shoulders to bring my boobs, now slightly bigger from pregnancy, to his attention. “Just think of it as my Christmas present to you.”
He talks to my chest. “You already got me a car.”
I did. A gold one. Jackie is already jealous of the C7 Corvette.
I shrug, the move also doing good things for boobs. “It’s a perk of having knocked up a billionaire.”
Brit blows a raspberry at us, distracting Vance from my ta-tas. “Damn it, I knew I should’ve gotten you to elope with me. I could use a sugar mama.”
“Again.” Matt’s resigned voice matches his expression. “Thanks.”
Brit pats Matt’s hand. Or tries to—she ends up patting the oven mitt he’s holding instead. “There, there.”
“Okay.” Vance lifts me again, this time setting me beside him. “I’ll agree to you buying the house as a Christmas present for me ifyouagree not to argue aboutmyChristmas present.”
“My ring?” I hold up my hand. “I’d never argue about this. I love it.”
He kisses my cheek. “I’m glad, Rosie-girl, but I was talking about the second Christmas present I got you.” Vance pulls something out from behind him and hands it to me.
It looks like one of those envelopes you get when you purchase a gift card. “What’s this?”
“It’s not a house, but I’m hoping you like it.”
Tilting my head, I study him. “So you’re telling me that if I accept this”—I hold up the envelope—"you won’t complain if I buy the house for us?”
Vance nods. “Correct.”
This seems too easy. But thinking it’s probably a gift card to some sex shop or some other store he thinks will embarrass me, I nod. “Deal.”
“All right then.” He gestures at my hand. “Have at it.”
Not a gracious gift opener, I tear the flap of the envelope off instead of lifting it, revealing a three by two piece of white card stock with the NASA logo on it. “A business card?”
Vance’s knee bounces. “Read it.”
“Vance Lonan Bodaway, chief astronaut.” Chief? Where have I—
