so you’ll have a dog and a half with the Lab.”
“Bingo.” Owen shook his head. “What kind of sadist names a dog Bingo? He’s only four months old, so we’ll change that. Give him some dignity.”
Beckett came back in, went straight for a beer. “Jesus. I’ve been at this, more or less, for almost a year, and sometimes I still wonder how Clare did it all on her own.”
He shoved Owen’s legs off the couch, dropped down. “It’s the first time she’s been away all night. It’s kind of weird.”
“You’ve already knocked her up,” Ryder pointed out. “She can use the rest.”
“She wants to start fooling with the nursery. She’s talking bassinets and changing tables.”
“Nervous?”
“Maybe, but mostly it’s bassinets. It sounds girly.”
“What the hell is it?” Ryder wondered.
“It’s like a basket on a stand.”
“You’re going to put your kids in a basket.”
“A fancy baby basket. The one she showed me has this frilly white skirt with blue bows on it.” Needing support, Beckett gave his brothers a pleading look. “You can’t put a boy in a basket with a frilly white skirt. It’s not right.”
“So put on your pants and man up,” Ryder suggested.
“She’s pregnant.”
“Which is why you’re sitting there talking about frilly white skirts. It’s embarrassing.”
“Eat me.” Beckett looked down the couch at Owen. “I’m thinking we could build something. Well, two somethings. A kind of cradle, but raised on a stand so you don’t have to bend down to get the kid. A little fancy work to make Clare happy, and enough so she won’t want to cover it up with a damn skirt.”
“We could do that. Make them so they’d rock.”
“Carve their names into them.”
Intrigued, Beckett looked back at Ryder. “Their names.”
“Makes them unique, and it’ll keep you from mixing them up. Better come up with something for the three you’ve already got so they don’t get their noses out of joint.”
“I’m going to build them a tree house. I haven’t gotten past the design stage yet. Too much going on.”
“Nothing like a tree house,” Owen said. “Man, we spent hours in ours. Stockpiled candy, comic books. Remember,” he said to Ryder, “you bought that skin mag off Denny. I saw my first porn in that tree house. Good times.”
“I got laid the first time up there. Tiffany Carvell. Excellent times.”
“Christ.” Beckett closed his eyes. “Don’t mention porn or getting laid to Clare. She’ll never let me build it.”
“Pussy.”
Beckett sneered right back at Ryder. “Say that to me again when you’re married.”
“The two of you can drive that train for a while. The women of the world need at least one Montgomery brother free and clear.”
“I’m going to like being married,” Owen commented.
“You might as well be already.”
“Yeah. And I like it. I like knowing she’ll be there when I get home, or she’ll be coming home. And it is weird,” he said to Beckett, “that she won’t be tonight.”
“They must be having a good time. Clare only called in once to check on the boys. And she said Hope needed some girl time. Speaking of which, what’s the deal with this Wickham guy? Clare didn’t have the whole story.”
“He thought he could poach her.”
“Fucker.”
“Fucker in a five-thousand-dollar suit.”
“He dumped her, right?” Owen lazily sipped at his beer. “For some blonde. Pretty hot blonde if you like the type. Avery showed me her picture in the Style section of the
Post
.”
“The Style section?” Ryder snorted. “Seriously?”
“Kiss ass. Avery found it, showed me. So, he dumps her for the blonde, has his big, splashy society wedding,
then
he comes up here to our place and tries to poach our innkeeper? Makes you want to kick his ass and mess up his five-thousand-dollar suit.”
“He added a perk. She’d hook back up with him and he’d set her up.”
Owen sat up now. “What the fuck did you
“Bingo.” Owen shook his head. “What kind of sadist names a dog Bingo? He’s only four months old, so we’ll change that. Give him some dignity.”
Beckett came back in, went straight for a beer. “Jesus. I’ve been at this, more or less, for almost a year, and sometimes I still wonder how Clare did it all on her own.”
He shoved Owen’s legs off the couch, dropped down. “It’s the first time she’s been away all night. It’s kind of weird.”
“You’ve already knocked her up,” Ryder pointed out. “She can use the rest.”
“She wants to start fooling with the nursery. She’s talking bassinets and changing tables.”
“Nervous?”
“Maybe, but mostly it’s bassinets. It sounds girly.”
“What the hell is it?” Ryder wondered.
“It’s like a basket on a stand.”
“You’re going to put your kids in a basket.”
“A fancy baby basket. The one she showed me has this frilly white skirt with blue bows on it.” Needing support, Beckett gave his brothers a pleading look. “You can’t put a boy in a basket with a frilly white skirt. It’s not right.”
“So put on your pants and man up,” Ryder suggested.
“She’s pregnant.”
“Which is why you’re sitting there talking about frilly white skirts. It’s embarrassing.”
“Eat me.” Beckett looked down the couch at Owen. “I’m thinking we could build something. Well, two somethings. A kind of cradle, but raised on a stand so you don’t have to bend down to get the kid. A little fancy work to make Clare happy, and enough so she won’t want to cover it up with a damn skirt.”
“We could do that. Make them so they’d rock.”
“Carve their names into them.”
Intrigued, Beckett looked back at Ryder. “Their names.”
“Makes them unique, and it’ll keep you from mixing them up. Better come up with something for the three you’ve already got so they don’t get their noses out of joint.”
“I’m going to build them a tree house. I haven’t gotten past the design stage yet. Too much going on.”
“Nothing like a tree house,” Owen said. “Man, we spent hours in ours. Stockpiled candy, comic books. Remember,” he said to Ryder, “you bought that skin mag off Denny. I saw my first porn in that tree house. Good times.”
“I got laid the first time up there. Tiffany Carvell. Excellent times.”
“Christ.” Beckett closed his eyes. “Don’t mention porn or getting laid to Clare. She’ll never let me build it.”
“Pussy.”
Beckett sneered right back at Ryder. “Say that to me again when you’re married.”
“The two of you can drive that train for a while. The women of the world need at least one Montgomery brother free and clear.”
“I’m going to like being married,” Owen commented.
“You might as well be already.”
“Yeah. And I like it. I like knowing she’ll be there when I get home, or she’ll be coming home. And it is weird,” he said to Beckett, “that she won’t be tonight.”
“They must be having a good time. Clare only called in once to check on the boys. And she said Hope needed some girl time. Speaking of which, what’s the deal with this Wickham guy? Clare didn’t have the whole story.”
“He thought he could poach her.”
“Fucker.”
“Fucker in a five-thousand-dollar suit.”
“He dumped her, right?” Owen lazily sipped at his beer. “For some blonde. Pretty hot blonde if you like the type. Avery showed me her picture in the Style section of the
Post
.”
“The Style section?” Ryder snorted. “Seriously?”
“Kiss ass. Avery found it, showed me. So, he dumps her for the blonde, has his big, splashy society wedding,
then
he comes up here to our place and tries to poach our innkeeper? Makes you want to kick his ass and mess up his five-thousand-dollar suit.”
“He added a perk. She’d hook back up with him and he’d set her up.”
Owen sat up now. “What the fuck did you
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