“Ouch,” I exclaim.
At the same time, he says, “Shit.”
We pull apart and stare at each other as we rub our respective bumps.
“Babies?” I ask in astonishment. “We just got married.”
“But we’ve known each other our entire lives,” he points out. “And babies aren’t going to change anything.”
“Says the man who doesn’t have to get fat and squirt a bowling ball out the end of his dick,” I say pointedly.
“God… I can’t wait for you to get a big tummy,” he says, pulling me back to him. “I’m going to fuck you morning, noon, and night.”
“Oh, stop it,” I chastise him, although that sounds nice.
“You really want to start?” I ask him, and his eyes sober at my question.
“I do, Jorie,” he says simply. “If you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” I say quickly, and then I break out into a smile that feels like it might break my face as I squeal. “Oh, my God… we’re going to have kids.”
“Excited?” he asks with a laugh.
I pull away from him, rummage through one of my small bags on the vanity, and I pull out my birth control pills. I make a very ceremonious event of pushing each one out of the packet into the toilet before flushing them down.
“I have to say, Mrs. Brooks,” Walsh says with a twinkle in his eyes. “The thought of this turns me on so much, I doubt we’re going to get much sightseeing done while we’re here.”
Laughing, I toss the empty pill case in the trash and step back into my husband’s body. Laying my cheek on his chest, I tell him, “And I’m completely fine with that, Mr. Brooks.”