“Funny.”
She’d laid out the kit her mother had given her last Christmas as soon as Tasha had called with the request. “Call it hormones, but if I have to deal with people wandering in and asking me questions about Stephen’s policies or the twin’s due date while the nail lady pretends she doesn’t notice my swollen ankles? I might cut someone.”
Jen had nothing but sympathy for her saucy, beautiful sister-in-law. She knew from the family grapevine that it wasn’t just reporters following her around. The Senator’s wife had accumulated a few secret admirers since she started to show.
Stephen was not pleased with the Baby Bump Brigade’s existence. He’d been fine until he knew they had their own website bursting with pictures of his wife running errands and coming and going from the doctor’s office. He’d been livid. And that was before he found out half of the Brigade were men who thought pregnant women were hot.
Tasha had always turned heads, but she was even more stunning now, if that was possible. Her mother said Tasha had “the glow”.
“It doesn’t happen to all pregnant women,” Ellen had assured Tasha weeks ago. “In fact, it’s rare—unless you’re married to a Finn. Then get used to it, because that glow is our gift for a lifetime of raising the handsome, troublemaking devils.”
Jen gathered up her tools and went to the bathroom to put them away and wash her hands. When she came back, Alicia was admiring her handiwork, tart in hand. Jen snatched it and took a bite.
“Hey!”
“Hey yourself,” she said around flaky lemon goodness. “I’m saving you from that ridiculous liquid fast you’ll go on as soon as Tasha leaves and you feel guilty for eating something with more calories than air.”
Alicia looked at her fingers and wiggled them, then pushed at the skin on her calves. “I should. I’m still suffering from Belize. They had food everywhere. If we weren’t having a five-course meal, we were being stuffed with fattening treats and appetizers. I’m bloated like a balloon.”
Tasha pushed herself up to a sitting position and glared at Jen’s sexy Latina roommate. “Alicia? I know you’re young and you don’t know any better, but you need to hush now. Have you seen this belly? I have two future six-footers baking on a high heat in here and I can’t unhook my bra or lace my sneakers without help. That’s bloated.”
Jen chuckled and both women turned to her with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, look, Little Finn is laughing,” Tasha sassed, but her green eyes were full of good humor. “Miss High Metabolism thinks we’re funny. Just because she can eat everything that isn’t nailed down and a single walk around the block gives her muscle definition, she thinks we’re funny.”
“She has no soul. I’ve heard rumors that gingers have no souls.”
Jen sent Alicia a warning look that made her giggle, then gave up and grinned at Tasha. “Don’t even start. I would Freaky Friday with you in a heartbeat. You know how long I’ve been jealous of your breasts.”
Alicia sighed, staring at them. “I am too.”
“Stop admiring me or I’ll cry,” Tasha warned. “It’s happening more and more lately and I’m only six months in. I’m exhausted, I’m weepy, I can hardly stand to be in the same room with myself. At this rate I’ll die of dehydration by month nine.” She made a face. “Let’s talk about something else. Alicia? How was the family wedding?”
Jen watched her friend push her thick waves of hair from her face with a scowl. “Lots of food. Lots of family handing Raoul babies and dropping hints the size of anvils. The groom’s mother kept trying to read my palm to tell me when he’d propose.”
Tasha laughed. “How did Raoul handle it? The babies and marriage attack?”
“Too well.”
Tasha and Jen shared a look. “What do you mean?” Jen asked.
“I mean I love him, but he’s so together he makes me nervous. We’re not even married and he’s already the perfect husband,” Alicia griped. “He cooks and cleans. If he took up knitting he couldn’t be more settled in. I don’t want to be an old married couple yet. What I would like is a little more…” She paused, shaking her head.
“Romance?” Tasha asked.
Alicia waved that away.
“Mr. Darcy?” Jen queried playfully, knowing Alicia’s obsession with Pride and Prejudice.
“Everyone wants that, but no. Hunger,” she finally said, reaching for another tart.
Oh. Break-the-bed sex, Jen remembered from their previous conversation. She leaned toward Alicia consolingly. “What about the paddle I got you for your birthday?”
Her roommate lifted her shoulder. “He really likes the paddle. But we only have that because you got it for us, you know? He would never have thought of that on his own, and I’m usually the one to suggest we use it.” She made a face. “I don’t want it to sound like he’s not a great lover. He is very sensual. But I’m afraid I’ll scare him away if I tell him what I want.”