Page 89 of 5+Us Makes Seven

“For what?”

“For a decent honeymoon.”

I looked up and saw a devilish glint in Natasha’s eye. I felt my cock throbbing to life at the mere idea of having her to myself. A week or two, in a tropical paradise or curled up in an icy cabin. With nothing but our naked bodies to keep each other warm by the fire.

“Only if you let me plan the honeymoon,” I said.

“If I let you plan it, we’ll be naked for the whole thing.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I’d like to get out and do things with you, too,” she said.

“We’ll do things, Natasha. Then we’ll… do other things.”

“Oh you’re bad.”

“It’s one of the reasons why you love me.”

“One of the many, many reasons,” she said.

I watched her cheeks blush as my mind began to turn.

“Do you want a big wedding or a small one?” I asked.

“Small, definitely. Especially with the children being involved. Having too many people around might distract them or something.”

“At the very least, it would make them hard to wrangle.”

“Your poor mother’s going to hate us by the end of it all,” she said.

“You’d be surprised. She lives for that kind of chaos. She wanted a big family but was never capable of having one,” I said. “She’s sort of living her own fantasy through our life together.”

“Then she should be in heaven, because five rambunctious kids is a hell of a lot of chaos.”

“If you want, I could hire a wedding planner. We could give them a roundabout idea of what we want and then we’d sort of let them go and do their thing.”

“I’ve heard horror stories about wedding planners. How doing their own thing results in never abiding by the wife and groom’s wishes,” she said.

“I mean I’ll help you plan it, but I figured with the twins and your body still recuperating, you might want to pawn that off on someone else.”

“You make our wedding sound like a business transaction.”

“I promise it’ll have all of the romance and all of the beauty, but with less stress and hands-on requirements.”

“You want to hire a wedding planner so I don’t rope you into sending out invitations and choosing between eggshell-colored napkins and champagne-colored napkins.”

“I don’t even know what the difference between those two colors is,” I said.

Natasha threw her head back and laughed, filling the room with its warm sound. She was beautiful. Full of life and energy. I looked at the ring glittering on her finger and felt my heart clench in my chest.

My fiancé.

Natasha was going to be my future bride.

“How about this?” she asked. “We’ll hire a wedding planner, but we need to give them strict guidelines. No deviation allowed. I don’t want to tell someone to plan a fifty-guest wedding and end up on a hilltop with two thousand people looking at us.”

“Do we know two thousand people?” I asked.

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