He pulled her hard against his chest, shifting Zoe to one hip while she continued to explore his ear with her tiny fingers. “Well, if I had my way, I’dsend everyone home, leave Zo-Zo with the grandparents and goconsummatethisunionof ours.” The caterpillars bobbed furiously along his forehead. “In the back of the limo!”
Krista tossed her head back and let out awhoopof a laugh. But Brock just took that as an invitation, and his teeth found her neck.
“Zoe needs a sibling,” he said with a growl, his lips traveling along her jaw.
A crowd began to gather, and the wedding planner scurried around trying to get everyone in the wedding party organized.
Krista leaned into his ear, the other ear, not the one Zoe was trying to find buried treasure in. “I’m glad you think that, because I’m pregnant.”
His eyes flashed wide, and she smiled.
“Really?”
She nodded. “About six weeks or so.”
He scooped her up around the waist, Zoe still perched firmly on his hip, and he spun them all around. “Well, now this really is cause for a celebration! Back to light duty, woman!”
She laughed and kissed him on the lips when he finally put her down. “Oh, Mr. Hart, every day with you is a cause for a celebration.”
Zoe squirmed her way between them, and they both planted a kiss on each of her cheeks. The photographer was right in front of them and ready to catch the cutesy pic.
“Oh, Mrs. Hart,” Brock murmured against Zoe’s face, so only Krista could hear, “the kind of celebration I’m talking about involves just the two of us, in the bedroom, wearing nothing but handcuffs and smiles.”
Krista smirked at him, the flash from the photographer’s camera blinding her temporarily. “And a wooden spatula?”
They both turned to face the camera, his enormous grin visible even in her peripheral vision. “But of course.”
