“Lemme see,” Harper said, taking her turn with the phone. Jazz let her. What did it matter at this point? She’d already been branded a sex pervert multiple times over.

“Oh my.” Harper’s eyebrows reached for her hairline. “At least Mrs. Duffy knows the passion is still alive,” she said, trying to smother a laugh behind her hand.

Jazz grabbed her phone and dumped it in her purse. “I sent him a boob shot to distract him from lecturing me about the fries I didn’t even get. So technically, this is all your fault.”

“Well, naturally. Isn’t that my role as the bestie? The cause of all the things.”

Jazz ignored Harper’s chuckles and shuffled up the aisle in the direction Mrs. Duffy had gone. On the way, she grabbed a set of adorable burp cloths, though she already had a ton at home. She might be embarrassed as hell, but she could still shop.

The day didn’t get any better from there. Somehow it even got worse.

Mrs. Duffy barely spoke to Jazz, instead questioning Harper about her pregnancy as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. She offered suggestions for clothing choices for Harper’s baby—because it’s so much fun to shop for little girls!—while almost entirely ignoring the sex maniac who just happened to be her daughter-in-law.

Unfortunately.

Harper shot her more than a few sympathetic looks, but in the end, she helped Mrs. Duffy forget about the tits and the painting and the sucking. Or at least Jazz hoped.

By the time they’d finished shopping in the enormous baby store, two hours had passed and Jazz’s cart was filled with stuff. About a third of it was hers, the rest Harper’s—and Mrs. Duffy’s, since she evidently wanted to help dress baby Alexa in spite of Harper’s protests that she and Deacon made plenty of money.

Gray’s mother had picked out one outfit for Dylan, a little blue sleeper, and Jazz loved it. She tried to not be bothered by the cold shoulder treatment, but she couldn’t help her natural instinct to people please. All she wanted to do was smooth over—

Smooth over what, exactly? That she and her husband were intimate? It wasn’t as if it was a bad thing. Couples were supposed to want to get naked together, especially just a month into their marriage.

“It’s not a crime,” she said under her breath, scowling down at her purchases as the checkout dude rang them out. “So what if I like sex?”

The guy’s hands faltered. “Um, excuse me, miss? What did you say?”

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m just being stupid.” She flashed the guy a distracted smile, barely noticing the one he gave her in return.

“These clothes,” he said, holding up an elephant onesie. “They’re for her?” He gestured to Harper, who’d already gone through the line. “She’s super pregnant.”

Harper frowned, clearly not appreciating that description. “I’m not super anything. I have a couple months left. And hello, you already checked me out.” She shook her head. “If you could stop checking her out, maybe you’d remember.”

“Say what?” Jazz blinked at the pointed look Harper shot her way, then glanced at the checkout guy. His cheeks had turned the color of apples. Oh crap. “No, these clothes are for me. My baby. This,” she said, peeling up the bottom of her top to show off her bump, much to Mrs. Duffy’s audible horror. “Jeez, it’s just my stomach.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“And married,” Mrs. Duffy added, in case Jazz had forgotten.

“And married?” the guy repeated, clearly shocked. “I thought you were a teenager.”

“Hardly,” Jazz sniffed, shoving a pile of thick terrycloth towels festooned with frogs at him to make him stop talking. “I’m way past my teen years.”

Harper snorted. “Way past meaning barely.”

Jazz narrowed her eyes and continued unloading her cart.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” he said softly once Harper had guided Mrs. Duffy away to look at a display of carriages. “I just…well, you’re cute.”

Jazz’s bad mood slipped away as if it had never existed. “Thank you. I really needed to hear something nice today.”

“So, married, huh?”

“Yes. We’re practically still on our honeymoon.” She showed him her ring and smiled. “But I’m flattered.”

“When are you due?”

“Fall.”

“Have you checked out the Apex line of car seats? Not sure what kind of car you drive, but they’re rated really well and can be customized to fit all vehicles.”

Jazz sighed. She’d gone from cute to a potential commission in one fell swoop. She couldn’t blame the guy. Gotta get your dolla dolla bills however you can, right?

She paid and rolled the cart outside, following Harper and Gray’s mother who were discussing the merits of one baby carriage over another. Jazz hadn’t read up on them yet, so she had nothing to contribute. She tried to appear interested though, not wanting to let her previous mood overshadow the end of the shopping trip. It was almost over. She’d survived, if not thrived.

Her phone went off, signaling a text from Gray, and his mother stopped talking and glared. Literally glared, as if she expected to find out her son was sending pornography over the internet or something.

Jeez louise.

“Well, I hate to shop and run, but my big guy will be coming home from his workout and he’s usually looking for dinner.”

“It’s three-thirty,” Mrs. Duffy said.

“Yes, but I’m a chef. Preparing good food takes time.”

Mrs. Duffy brightened. “Oh, a chef! How lovely.”

“It has its moments.” Harper juggled her shopping bags and lifted her brows at Jazz. “You cool?”

Such a simple two-word question, such a long sob story of an answer. “Yes, I’m perfect.” Jazz smiled and leaned forward to give Harper a big hug, though their mutual shopping bags almost toppled them both. “Thank you for coming today.”

“No prob. It was fun.” Harper drew back and frowned, conveying a ton of concern in just one snap down of her brows. “Call me later?”

“Try and stop me,” Jazz said, her smile holding while Harper said her goodbyes to Mrs. Duffy and waved.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to—”

“You ignoring me or what?”

The smile turned genuine at the deep voice behind her. She whirled toward the sound and rushed into Gray’s arms, hugging him as if it had been a lifetime since she’d seen him rather than just since breakfast. His mouth was on hers before she had time to draw breath to say hello.

All it took was the rub of his soft lips and the slow slide of his tongue for her to even out again. Just like that, she didn’t care that baby girls were supposedly so much more fun to buy for or that Mrs. Duffy was treating her like a sex maniac because of one not-so-innocent text—that she hadn’t even sent. Because hey, she was a sex maniac for this man. She wanted him twenty-four/seven, and anyone who had a problem with that better look away fast.

“Hi.” He stroked a finger over her wet bottom lip as they reluctantly drew apart.

“Hi.” She kissed the dent in his chin. “I missed you.”

“Uh huh. Not enough to answer my texts apparently.”

His teasing grin faltered slightly as he glanced around her to where his mother stood, probably viewing them with disapproval. Kissing in public. How shameful.

“Mother,” he said with enough coolness to do a Duffy proud.

“Grayson. What a surprise to see you.”

“Yeah, well, we finished up early and Luc dropped me off here since my girl wasn’t answering my dirty texts. So you know, gotta see what’s up.”

“Gray,” Jazz said, biting her lip to stop her grin. “Seriously not the time.”

“It’s always the time for dirty texts. Right, Mother?”

Instead of reading him the riot act, she only smiled serenely. “Newlyweds have their own rules, don’t they, dear?”

At least he did. Jazz not so much.

Gray slung an arm around Jazz’s shoulders. “We kind of always have. Right, sugarpop?”

She tried to give him a stern look—he could save the playfulness until his mom went home, for pete’s sake—but he was so damn cute that she ended up giggling and shoving an elbow into his ribs.

“No wonder that young man in there thought you were a teenager, Jasmine. You’re still so…youthful.”

In a flash, Jazz’s amusement withered. “Being youthful isn’t a bad thing.” Ah, to hell with it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to win over this woman. “At least my tits are still perky.”

“Hear, hear,” Gray said, making Jazz laugh.

No matter what, he would always be her oasis in the center of any storm. The one who could dry her tears and give her an attack of the giggles just by saying the exact right thing. And five minutes later, melt her panties when he whispered something hot and dirty in her ear.

He was, bar none, the best thing that had ever happened to her.

She glanced down at her belly. Tied for best.

Truth was, she was ridiculously happy. So happy that little blips like today shouldn’t even register. Which meant she could be magnamous and ignore Mrs. Duffy’s looking down her nose routine. Because she was Gray’s mother, and maybe Harper was right. Maybe it was just what a mother did when confronted with evidence of her grown child’s sexual activity.

She would’ve figured her big belly would’ve been proof enough, but yanno, she wasn’t going to split hairs.

She also wasn’t going to hold a grudge.

“Thank you for suggesting this today,” she said to his mother. “It was fun.”

Mrs. Duffy tilted her head, studying Jazz as if she were an exotic beetle. “Yes, it was. I liked Harper. She’s a nice girl.”

“Yes, she is.” And I am too, even if I sent your son a picture of my breasts about to spill out of my bra.

“You are too,” Mrs. Duffy added, moving forward to give Jazz a quick hug. Jazz tried to hug her back, but her arms had gone numb.

Mrs. Duffy pulled back and shifted her attention to her son, hugging him tightly enough to crack a rib. He wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic.

“Perhaps we can have lunch next week?” There was no mistaking the hope in Mrs. Duffy’s expression.

“Sure. I can bring Harper too if you’d like.” Because you like her better than me.

Her cool gray eyes, so like Gray’s, warmed. “Actually, no, I think it’d be good for us to…bond on our own. Don’t you think?”

Jazz cast a sidelong look at Gray, who’d developed a sudden fascination with his phone. Traitor. “Okay, sure. Sounds great.”

“Wonderful! I’ll call you to set something up. And Grayson, feel free to join us too.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m busy.”

“He’s working a lot of hours, writing songs,” Jazz hastened to add, feeling the need to patch over the hole Gray’s words had caused. She might not like Mrs. Duffy as much as she once had, but that didn’t mean she wanted her to go home feeling bad.

She really didn’t want to go home feeling bad either, if it could be helped.

“Yeah, I’ll make it if I can.” Gray brushed a quick kiss over his mother’s cheek. “Drive safely.”

“I will. You too.” Mrs. Duffy started to walk away, then turned back and fumbled in one of her shopping bags. “Oh, I almost forgot. I bought this too, as a surprise.”

Jazz squealed and grabbed the lemon yellow baby bathrobe with a duck’s head hood. “Oh my gosh, it’s perfect. He’ll look adorable in this.” She juggled her bags and clutched the robe to her chest. “Isn’t it cute, Gray?”

“Very. Give me your bags.”

She handed them over dutifully and went back to cooing over the duck. “We’ve been talking about painting the nursery yellow and green, so those are pretty much my favorite colors right now. Thank you so much.”

Mrs. Duffy smiled. “You’re more than welcome, dear. Make sure you get some rest tonight.” Shooting a dark look at her son, she headed off toward her BMW.

Still clinging to the robe, Jazz started to laugh. Hard. “Now you’re the pervert,” she said between giggles.

Gray lifted a brow. “Excuse me?”

“That’s why I didn’t answer your texts. Mother interruptus.”

“Oh. Awkward. Seriously?”

“So seriously.” She looped her arm through his and they headed over to her car. “How’d you get here anyway?”

“Luc from The Grunge dropped me off. I was going to head back to the apartment but when I didn’t hear from you—”

“You were worried. I know. I’m sorry. I should have answered.”

“But text interruptus.” He shuddered as she unlocked the trunk. “Just not going to think about it, okay?”

“What I recommend,” she said soberly. Once he’d dumped the packages inside, she carefully folded the duck robe and placed it into one of the bags. “Wait until you see what I got. So much cute!” She frowned, staring at her purchases. “Boys are fun to buy for too. Don’t you think?”

Gray didn’t look up from his phone. “Huh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shut the trunk and tugged out the keys. “I’m guessing you want to drive?”

He just held out a hand and kept texting one-handed.

Yep, today wasn’t her day.

She tossed him the keys and got in the passenger side, waiting until he’d finally tucked away his phone and started the car to return to the conversation. Calmly. Without snark. “Your mother thinks it’s more fun to buy for girl babies than boys.”

He frowned and signaled out of the lot. “Why?”

“I don’t know. They have frilly dresses and crap. Though boys can wear frilly stuff too if they want to.”

“Truth. Or is it because they put those stupid bands on girl babies’ bald heads to make up for the lack of hair?”

A laugh sneaked out. “That’s mean.”

“I wasn’t a bald baby, and neither were you. Hair, man. It’s a small thing to ask for.” He flashed her a grin and reached over to rub her thigh. “So you good to hang out for a bit?”

She smothered a sigh. And that was that. He wasn’t about to fret about his mother’s opinion on anything, least of all if she’d rather buy girl stuff than boy. That was the wonder and annoyance of Grayson Duffy.

“If ‘hanging out’ involves getting grub, then yes, let’s hang out. If it means I’m going to starve, then no. Busy. So very busy.”

He laughed and squeezed her leg. “Have I starved you yet?”

“Yes. Daily. But today it’s Harper who starved me.” She told him the story of the missing French fries, and the rest of the text interruptus, and then the bit about the guy at the checkout counter sort of hitting on her. “So see, it’s been a day, and I need food. Pronto.”

“You showed some random dude your belly?”

Oh, here we go. “Yeah, I did. So what? I’m not ashamed of it. In fact, I’d show it to more people if I could.”

“I didn’t say you should be ashamed of it. It’s a very sexy belly. But you know…mine.”

“Yours? I think not. Try mine.”

“What’s in it is mine.”

“Half yours, and we’re not having this conversation because if you tell me you don’t want me showing random strangers my belly, I will have to add you to the list of today’s suck. And for the love of suck, don’t make me do that, okay?”

Lips twitching, Gray slid his hand that much higher on her thigh. Like almost up to her erogenous zones high. “I don’t suppose you can limit that to random women?” At her stony silence, he sighed. “Fine. Flash it around town. It proves you’re mine anyway.”

“Where’s your club, caveman? Maybe you can use it to catch me some lunch.”

He pulled into the driveway of the nearest chicken restaurant and cocked his head. “What do you say now?”

“I say I’ve never coveted breasts more in my life.”

“You’ve coveted breasts before? Let’s discuss this.” He laughed and ducked when she pretended that she was going to hit him with her bag.

She grinned. “Just buy me some damn chicken and stop talking already.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were parked in the back of the lot, eating their meal with their hands like heathens. It was glorious. “We could’ve gone home. I could’ve waited that long.” Jazz licked her fingers. “Maybe.”

“Yeah, but I have plans for us. No heading home yet.”

“What kind of plans?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She frowned. “You know I hate surprises.”

“Yeah, but not all of them are bad. Someday you’ll realize that.”

“And what, it’s your job to prove it to me?”

He bit into a juicy drumstick. “Something like that.”

“I could use a nap,” she said, poking at a particularly crispy piece in the bucket. She wanted it fiercely, but nerves were now crowding her belly. “It’s not good if I go too long without sleep.”

“You were sound asleep this morning when I left. Stop making excuses and trust me.” He tipped up her chin with a slightly greasy finger. “You can do that, can’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Such faith.” Instead of seeming affronted, he smiled and went back to his chicken. “So are you really going to go to lunch with my mother?”

She sighed and grabbed another piece of chicken. He was determined to surprise her, and she had to admit he’d never given her a bad one yet. But after a lifetime of hiding away from things she couldn’t predict, she couldn’t change as easily as he wished.

“Yeah. The kid needs grandparents.”

“And you need her to like you,” he said softly, looking at her sideways.

“No.”

“Yes.”

She took a big bite of chicken and wiped her chin. “Fine. Yes. I just want her to think I’m good enough for her son. That marrying me isn’t the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”

“No, I’m pretty sure she thinks joining Oblivion is the biggest mistake I ever made.”

The chicken fell from her boneless fingers. “No way. Seriously?”

He nodded and kept eating. Nothing knocked Gray off his feed, at least now that he was clean and sober. For a while the weight had been dropping off him way too fast. “Being in unsuccessful bands was one thing. She still held out hope back then that I’d see the error of my ways and get a real job like Dad. Because you know, being a lawyer is exactly what I wanted to do with my life.”

“It’s a nice stable job.” She licked her fingers and tried to stop herself from grabbing one more piece. “Though I’m not sure I’d be accepted by the other lawyers’ wives, what with the blue hair and belly flashing.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “You forgot the wild piercings and crazy clothes.”

“My ‘wild’ piercings aren’t visible, thank you very much.”

He dropped the remnants of the chicken in the bucket and wiped his hands on a napkin. “So I guess I should burn those pictures I just happen to have,” he said nonchalantly.

“What? What pictures?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” He gave her a bland smile. “You finished?”

“Yes, I’m finished. What pictures, Gray?”

“I only took a couple.”

“That’s like saying it only went in a few inches. A couple is plenty.” She crossed her arms as he put the car in gear. Even the lingering delicious aroma of the chicken couldn’t mitigate her annoyance. “No one looks good in sex pictures, and besides, hello, you should’ve told me. I haven’t sneaked any pix of your dick, have I?”

“I don’t know. Have you?” He backed out of the space and drove out of the lot.

“No. I would ask first. That’s just common courtesy.”

“Sorry. I should have. So is this our first married fight?” He tilted his head and peered at her through the tangle of his too long dark hair.

Damn adorable man.

“No. But it’s my first married demand.” She held out a hand. “I want to see. Gimme.”

He gave a long-suffering sigh. “Of course I’ll show you. I owe you that much, don’t I? I only have one request in return. In the spirit of marital harmony,” he added at her sputter.

“Harmony, my kiester. I’m the unharmonious one, buster. You don’t tack on demands when I’m the aggrieved party here.”

“You’re right. I just want to see your notebook.”

“What notebook?” she asked as he signaled onto the freeway. “Where are we going?”

“Surprise, remember? And you know very well what notebook. The composition one you teased me with in high school. The secret one.”

Her cheeks flamed as she nudged away the decimated bucket of chicken with her sneaker. “I showed you my notebook.”

“You showed me one of your notebooks. You never showed me the other one, but I think it’s time, don’t you?”

“What makes you think I even have it anymore? I might’ve tossed it out.”

“You?” He snorted and shifted lanes. “You’d keep it just for the sentimental value, if nothing else.”

She frowned out the window at the passing landscape, soaked in bright sunshine. “It sucks sometimes how well you know me.”

“Hand it over and I’ll give you my phone. It’s right in my gallery. Latest pictures.”

“Latest pictures? So this pervishness is a recent thing?” Shaking her head, she reached into the backseat and dragged out her bag. “Never mind. You’ll think I’m a pervert too once you read what’s in this notebook. But in my defense, I was extremely hormonally challenged at the time and extremely—”

In love with you and didn’t have a clue how to tell you.

“What?” he prompted.

“I wrote the songs in high school.” She tugged out the notebook and just held it for a moment, closing her eyes. So much of her life was on those pages that just handing it over felt like giving him a glimpse at her soul. Not that she hid anything from him, but this was different.

Once he read this, he would know exactly how much she’d craved him. How she’d been damn near obsessed.

“Yeah, and?”

“You know how it is when you’re a teenager. Everything is very over the top. It’s not to be taken seriously.”

“Yeah, because you’re so far away from your teen years now.”

“Sheesh, teen comments twice in one day. I’m twenty-three.”

“Thanks for the tidbit.” He wiggled his fingers. “Give it.”

“Uh uh. Phone first.”

He pried it out of his jeans pocket and dropped it her lap, then simply snatched the notebook and tucked it in the space between his seat and the door. “Go ahead.” He nodded at the phone. “Check out the lewd, inappropriate pictures I took of you.”

Sensing a rat—in the shape of her very sexy husband—she picked up his cell and clicked on his photos. The first one that came up was of her curled up on their bed, her legs slightly parted. She was obviously asleep and still wearing her bikini from swimming earlier that day. “This was from last week.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Aside from her breasts defying gravity in their triangle cups and her belly looking pretty round over her bikini bottoms, she didn’t see anything lewd on that one. Nor did she see anything inappropriate on the next one, which was of her on her back, knees akimbo. Still unconscious.

“Weirdo creeper,” she said, thumping him in the belly. “Taking pictures of me when I’m asleep. And they’re not even hot ones, for fuck’s sake.”

“I beg to differ. Those are extremely hot shots. Your tits are huge and straining against your bikini top. Those strings are barely holding them in.”

She bit her lip. “Yeah, okay.” She didn’t get the whole breast fascination thing unless it involved a crispy outside layer and came in a bucket, but whatever. She couldn’t say she minded him perving on her chest.

“Your belly is swollen with my baby and your navel is poking out just the slightest bit. So damn sexy.”

“Hmm.”

“And the dirtiest part of all? Between your legs I can see the faintest outline of your clit piercing.”

“You can not.”

“Yes, you can. Look closer.”

She squinted. “I see nothing. And if this is what I traded my notebook for, you better plan on living between my thighs tonight because I demand recompense.”

“What part of me between your thighs?”

“All of them,” she grumbled. “On a steady rotation.”

He chuckled. “I can do that.”

“Con artist. Making me give up my secrets for a picture of—of—”

“My absolutely beautiful wife and mother of my child taking a nap practically naked? Yes. I’m such a con artist.” He reached over to pat her leg. “I gotta say, you shouldn’t have ever believed I’d take a naked picture of you without your permission. Who does that?” He ignored her growl. “Though I must admit that now you’ve put the idea in my head…”

She reached over and smacked him. Hard. “Six hours straight. No refreshments. Just my pussy.”

His smirk made her nipples stand at attention. “Sounds like a win-win to me.” He lifted the notebook. “I’m thinking maybe I should pull over and read this right now.”

She tuned out his laughter and plotted revenge.

Serious freaking revenge.