Page 77 of A Simple Life

He laughed, lifting my hand to his mouth. “Good. I want to spoil you for a while. Let you get to know me and all my bad habits, then decide if you want to risk my DNA mixing with yours.”

“I love mixing our DNA.”

He winked as he pulled into the driveway. “Later, darlin’. I promise you lots of DNA later.”

I squeezed his hand. “Okay.”

Abby woke up as we parked, and we headed down to the watering hole, the coolness refreshing on our skin. She splashed and played, John tossing her into the deeper water, staying close to make sure she was safe. I watched how natural they were together. How in tune he was with her, and I could only imagine him if I was pregnant. The protectiveness I saw in him would be multiplied.

Not that I minded.

I lounged in the shallower end, laughing when they joined me, Abby’s hair wet and John looking like a drowned rat. I had heard lots of splashing.

“Having a good day, baby?” I asked Abby.

“The best.”

“Good.”

She grabbed one of the toys, floating on it, looking thoughtful. She turned to me. “Momma, what are we doing next weekend?”

“Um, nothing.”

“But it’s your birthday. We always do something fun on your birthday.”

John’s head snapped my way, and I felt his stare. He came closer, looming over me in the water.

“It’s your birthday next week?”

I waved him off. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not a big deal,” I protested.

“It is, Momma. We have a special day!”

“What is it you do for your birthday?” John asked.

Abby grabbed his arm. “Last year, we went to a salon, and I had a pedicure! Then we went to a movie. After, we had McDonald’s. It was so fun!”

John tilted his head. “I bet it was.”

“The year before, we went to a pizza place. They thought it was my birthday, so I got a piece of cake, which made me laugh. But I shared it with Momma, and I got to play in the ball room. She watched and said it was the best day ever.”

John nodded, his eyes on me. “I see.”

I smiled. “I’ll think of something, Abby.”

John shook his head. “Oh no. I think this year, I get to make the birthday plans.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he shook his head again in warning.

“My plans,” he murmured, lowering his head. “And you should have told me.”

“I don’t make a big deal of it,” I whispered. “I make the day fun for her.”

“Well, things have changed. Both my girls will be having fun. And I won’t hear any arguments, Quinn.” He met my eyes. “Right?”