Back to You(16)
“My ass. My swimmers can make big strong boys. I’ll show you.” He nods his head, boasting with a grin.
“You’ll show me nothing of the sort. Don’t make me pick up condoms on the way back to the house.”
“Psssh!” he erupts, rolling his eyes. “Condoms? You’re on birth control, no?”
“Yes, but you’re making me think we need double duty—or triple—I’ll make you pull out before emptying your girl-making juice inside me if you keep this baby talk up.”
Declan’s head falls back as he laughs. His shoulders shake and his hair flops to the side as he lets himself enjoy my joke. “Such a way with words. I fucking love you, Mia.”
I giggle, loving that even in the midst of a disagreement we can have fun. “I love you too, baby. Ready to go back now?”
He motions to the waiter for the check and then reaches in his back pocket for his wallet. “Ready as I’ll ever be. All this talk about sperm and condoms makes me horny, baby.” He does his best Austin Powers.
I shake my head. “You’re always horny, aren’t you?”
“For you, babe, yes. I’d take you right here on this table if I wasn’t worried about all these strange men getting a glimpse of my girl in action.”
“Oh, that’s what you’re worried about? Not getting arrested for indecent exposure?”
He leans closer, whispering, “Mmmm… there you go again. Come on, baby, let’s get home so I can do all kinds of indecent things to your exposed body.”
What a cornball. At least he’s a sexy cornball.
She has a point. It’s not right that I’m keeping this kind of thing from her, but fucking sue me for wanting to have a few goddamn days of peace before we have to make another decision. I want to tell her, I really do, but… not yet!
“Baby, come outside with me? There’s one of those swings on the porch like in those Nicholas Sparks movies.” She loves Nicholas Sparks and she’s always wanted a swing for our own yard, but I can’t help thinking the kids will probably find a way to turn it into some sort of death trap. Yeah, no swing for another few years.
“Sure, let me just go up and change into something more comfortable.” She kicks off her spiky heels and they land with a loud clunk. Anything has to be more comfortable than those.
“Is that code for something slinky and lacey?” I’m all recouped from before. I have at least two more rounds in me.
Mia rolls her eyes and pouts. “No. Sorry to burst the romance bubble, but would you mind if I throw on a pair of sweats?”
“You brought the uniform on our sexy getaway?”
“There’s no escaping the uniform. Sorry, hun.” She laughs.
I walk over to her and plant a kiss on her cheek. “You’d be irresistible in a potato sack. Go get comfortable and meet me out there.”
She heads up the steps and I go into the kitchen to plug my Blackberry into the charger. I have zero battery left and probably one hundred emails in my inbox.
I give it a few seconds to juice up while I grab a bottled water from the fridge. As soon as it turns on, the notifications start buzzing. Voice messages, emails, texts. Robert, the client, my secretary. I’m on fucking vacation and it’s nearly midnight. What the fuck?
I browse through to see what the emergency is and all I’m getting from the onslaught of shit is that they need me to call them ASAP. I check the time, then look past the kitchen wall toward the steps to see if Mia’s coming. It’s eleven thirty-eight and Mia’s still getting cozy. I guess I can make a quick call to avert whatever the crisis seems to be.
I skip over all the middle man stuff and just go straight to dialing Robert’s number. He answers on the first ring, “Declan. Shit, we’ve been calling you for hours.”
“I can see that, but you know I’m out of town and my phone was—”
“We need you in Hong Kong on Thursday,” he interrupts, cutting right to the chase. “He wants to pull the fucking account, Murphy. Archer called with a question about the quarterlies and I mentioned in passing that you had to decide whether or not to take the offer and he said he didn’t want anyone else managing the account. Only you.”
Fuck! “Well—” Shit, I’m fucking speechless. It’s flattering but at the same time I don’t want to be cornered into a decision like this.
“Well, what? We can’t lose this client, Declan. They’re one of the top five. We lose them and they go somewhere else, we look like assholes. We lose credibility.” He sounds like someone’s holding a gun against his head—shaky and panicky.