Noah bursts out laughing.
I glare at them one at a time. “She said it was an ovulation calendar.”
“Because you’re getting old,” Noah says around a laugh.
Irritation simmers in my veins. “I don’t need you to repeat my words back to me.”
“He might, considering how old you are,” War mutters.
“I’m younger than you, motherfucker.”
War narrows his icy blue eyes, channeling the team captain he was so long ago, and on instinct, I shrink back into the booth. We’re at breakfast at our usual spot, and yeah, there are kids around. It’s a Sunday morning, so the place is packed with families. And this is my family, so once a month we get together for breakfast. Brooks’s sons had some football thing this morning—because much to his disappointment, not one of his three boys has any interest in hockey—so he’s missing this important update in my life.
Thank fuck.
“How did you respond?” Daniel doesn’t take his eyes off me as he successfully shoves a bite of pancake into his mouth.
I shrug. “I said okay.”
War, who’s finally sipping his coffee, chokes and spits the warm liquid all over his own plate and the table in front of him.
Without a second of hesitation, Noah throws a napkin at him.
Daniel, on the other hand, slumps back and groans. “You spit on my pancakes.”
“I’ll buy you new pancakes,” he grits out. “This idiot told my daughter’s twenty-seven-year-old best friend that he’d knock her up.” War pats his face with a napkin, the glare he’s fixed on me scarier than I think I’ve ever seen from him.
“No, I said okay to the possibility. Which isn’t all that unbelievable. There’s a chance we will eventually be ready to discuss ovulation calendars and shit like that.”
Noah scowls. “That’s the least sexy way to discuss baby-making with a woman.”
“Not if you have trouble having kids,” Daniel says.
“And what the hell would you know about that?” War points out.
“Mills had trouble, and she used those things,” Daniel says with a shrug. Millie is his twin.
“Right, but Savannah hasn’t known Camden long enough to find out whether her period is even late, let alone to discuss problems with making a baby,” War grumbles.
Noah rests his forearms on the table and studies me from behind black-framed glasses. “Do you think she was serious?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. She seems so fucking normal. And she’s absolutely incredible in bed.”
“Earmuffs,” War grumbles.
“What, you can’t hear about sex because you’re married? That’s new.”
“No,” he growls. “I can’t hear about you having sex with my daughter’s best friend.”
I wipe my mouth with my napkin and toss it to the table. “Get overit. She’s hot as fuck and she’s dirty as fuck, and honestly, I’m crazy about her.”
“But she might be a little crazy,” Daniel sings.
With a pointed look at him, I shrug. “Possibly.”
Noah barks out a laugh. “She’s gotta be fucking with you.”
“She’s a little quirky, yeah. She brought up kids the first night we were together.” I don’t mention the love bear or the baby outfit. Honestly, both are a little funny on their own, but added up like this, maybe her actions are a little more on the concerning side.
