“Fifteen.”

I looked at Magenta as we climbed the stairs to Trish and Mason’s place. “What?”

“Fifteen,” she said again in a slightly louder whisper.

“Twenty-nine,” I said back, because how else did you respond to a woman calling out random numbers.

“I thought it was about an even thirty, but I just don’t think you have even twenty-nine orgasms in you before the night is over.” She said it so casually as though it wasn’t a direct challenge. A taunt. “Fifteen is acceptable after this meal is over.”

“Fifteen orgasms? Tonight?” The woman was out of her mind. I had stamina and the desire, but that seemed out of even my reach. “Is that supposed to be a punishment for me?”

“A reward, but if you think it’s a punishment, then I’ll find another orgasm machine.” That smug smile, the one that made these little miniature dimples pop out at the corners of her mouth, made me fall just a little bit more for her.

“No wife of mine will get her orgasms from anyone other than me.”

It was my own dumb luck that the door opened when it, did and I had never been so grateful to see a person as I was to see Trish.

“That’s usually how marriage works, guys. You’ve come to the right place for tips.” With a too bright smile she stepped back with a grin. “I’m so glad you came. Both of you.”

“Real subtle, Trish.” Magenta grumbled, but she accepted a hug only half reluctantly. “Where’s the food?”

“In the oven, still cooking. We do have hors d’oeuvres in the dining room.” She shooed us down a long hall that came to an end with two sliding wood doors on the left.

“It smells amazing, Trish.”

“Thank you, but I prefer the sounds of people stuffing their faces as my thanks.” She laughed and squeezed between me and the door, sliding into the dining room first. “Look who’s here, babe.”

Mason stood, looking like he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was, and slapped on a reasonable impression of a smile. “Hey Mags. Davis, good to see you again.” It almost sounded genuine.

“Good to see you again too man.” I shook his hand quickly and stepped back. “Trish, can I do anything to help?”

“Nah, I got it. Have a seat and tell me about yourself.” She moved around the table, filling glasses before taking a seat and blowing out a big breath. “Okay, jeez I’m winded.”

“Damn girl, you’re huffing and puffing like you’re pregnant. Oh god, you’re not pregnant are you?” Despite her acidic tone, Magenta wore a knowing grin. “Holy crap, you are.”

“I am. I’m going to be a mommy!” She did that squeal thing that women did when they were excited, and proving once again what a big softie she was on the inside, Magenta wrapped her in a tight hug.

“I’m happy for you, Trish. Both of you,” she cast a quick look over her shoulder at Mason before turning back the small blond. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Mags. You are going to be the coolest aunt on the planet.” Trish’s eyes were watery as she pulled Magenta in for another hug.

“I’m the coolest everything on the planet, so maybe, but your lucky kid will also have Vivi and Maddie.” Looking a little less comfortable, she took a step back and reached for the nearest wine glass.

“But you will be his or her aunt, Magenta.”

She was still drinking when all eyes turned to her. “Of course I will. But you know family is what you make it, and Vivi and Maddie are your family. Too,” she added on hastily, but no one else seemed to notice. “To the parents to be.” She raised her glass and stubbornly kept it there until we lifted ours.

“Great, now eat before I devour everything in sight!”

We dug into the delicious bites of food that included stuffed mushrooms with fancy cheese that smelled terrible, but tasted incredible, a date wrapped up in bacon, some avocado mousse and a small shot glass of cold soup that was surprisingly delicious.

“So, what’s the plan?” I guess that was Mason’s attempt at easing into the conversation, and I had a feeling it wouldn’t end well.

Magenta smacked her hands on the table, making the little plates and platters jump. “No. I’m not doing this with you.” Her gaze shot to mine. “We are not doing this. Dinner and regular chitchat, or I’m gone.”

Mason sighed, and Trish laid a steadying hand on his arm, a move I envied because of what it meant about their bond. It took nothing but a hand and a look, and his nostrils stopped flaring. “I’m just asking a question.”

“The plan is that we will deal with it. Together.” Her gaze flew to mine, and I didn’t know if the look I saw there, solidarity, was genuine, or her pretending we were a happy little couple just to stick it to her brother.

“How did you meet? When did you meet long enough to get married? I think-,”

“I don’t give a damn what you think, Mason.” Her voice was lethally calm, a sign even Mason seemed to recognize meant a storm was brewing. Magenta turned to Trish with a smile. “These mushrooms are delicious, are those shallots?”

Trish took the lifeline with an energetic smile. “Banana shallots, actually. They’re way bigger than normal shallots and they’re just a bit sweeter.”

“Tastes like they were cooked on the grill. Good job.”

“Thanks. Wait until you try dinner.”

“Can’t wait,” she replied tightly, reaching across the table to refill her glass.

“So, we’re really gonna just sit here and pretend it’s okay that she’s secretly married?” Mason crossed big tattooed arms across his chest, doing his best to look intimidating to two females who did not scare easily.

“What business is it of yours, Mason?”

His frown showed his confusion. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re my sister, of course it’s my business.”

“No.” Magenta shook her head, determined and angry and hurt. A lethal combination I was sure. “I’m not your problem, Mason. Davis and I will figure out what is best for us.”

“But you don’t-,”

“No, you don’t know him, and that’s not my problem. I know Davis very well. What we do between us, is between us.” Her fluorescent pink lips curled into a wicked smile. “If he was safe enough to live with, sight unseen, he’s good enough to be my husband.”

The timer sounded in the kitchen and Trish popped up like her chair was on fire. “I’ll go check that! Hey Davis, can I get those muscles to act as my assistant?”

“Sure thing. Are free tastings involved in this job?” She laughed as I followed her. “Are they going to be okay alone in there?”

She shrugged as we entered the kitchen and immediately made her way to the oven, looking inside before she popped up with a grin. “Just sit that on the rack and we’ll let it cool for a few minutes, give those two a chance to talk.”

“You think that’s wise?”

“I don’t know, but they have to talk it out, right? They’re family and they have to fix this. We’re all a family,” she said intensely as she rubbed her nonexistent belly, “and we’re getting bigger everyday. I don’t want my kid to see his or her Aunt twice a year.”

“You really think she’ll leave?” I was hoping like hell this was just a tantrum, even though Magenta didn’t strike me as the kind of woman to throw a fit for the sake of it. That thought had my heart dropping down to my gut.

“I wish I could say no, because I really want that to be true. But Magenta is pretty prickly. She hurts easily, even though she’ll deny it with her dying breath, and her first instinct is to run.”

Which didn’t bode well for a man looking to settle down. “Shit.”

Her eyes went wide. “You want to stay married?”

I nodded only half listening as the volume increased in the dining room. “I never said that!”

“Your actions said it all, big bro!” Magenta was riled up and I could just see her with pink cheeks, flushed chest and shoulders as she railed at her brother, tearing him a new one. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, okay? Let’s just have a nice dinner since Trish worked so hard, and let that be it.”

“Mags, come on. You’re my kid sister. My baby sis.”

“Your burden,” she shot back, sounding every bit the kicked puppy she was. “Not anymore. I don’t need you to look after me. I’m fine on my own.”

Trish leaned in and shook her head. “Can you believe the crazy woman thinks ‘alone’ is a thing in this town?” A snort erupted from Trish and she turned back to the stove, scooping food from the warming pans and into serving dishes.

“I’ll always worry about you, Mags.”

“Maybe so, but I am also a grown woman. I don’t know if you noticed or not, but I’m not a kid.”

“It’s just run of the mill giving a damn, Magenta. You’re my family and I give a shit about what happens to you!”

She snorted again, and I turned to Trish. “She can’t take a compliment to save her life.”

“No kidding,” she chuckled. “Ready to head back into the line of fire?”

“Nope.” I picked up the lamb and the mashed potatoes while she grabbed a bowl with green beans and carrots. “But that’s where the food is going so, that’s where I’ll be.”

“Smart man. Now just remember, be on her side. No matter what.”

“I am on her side,” I told Trish because it was true.

“Good. Let’s go.”

“I’ll help you get a divorce,” Mason said stubbornly.

“Nobody asked for your help.”

“Mags, be reasonable.”

She barked out a laugh and sent an apologetic smile to Trish before she turned to Mason. “This coming from the guy who accidentally got drunk married in New Orleans. No thanks.”

“Why do you have to be so-,”

Magenta stood and held up a hand, one finger pointed right at her brother. Her jaw clenched angrily and her nostrils flared, a sign that she was truly angry. “Don’t say it. Don’t you fucking say it, Mase.”

“Why in the hell do you have to be so difficult?”

Magenta transformed right before my eyes, her skin grew pale, completely pale with no trace of her earlier heat, and her eyes went flat and dark. Emotion drained from her, and she looked at me, hurt shining brightly in her big green eyes. Instead of the explosion I’d expected, she nodded and sat down with a short, absent nod. “Don’t worry, I’m no longer your problem. Soon you’ll have your own kid to worry about.” Then she grabbed one of the big serving spoons, mindlessly scooping potatoes and then vegetables onto her plate.

“Mags,” Mason tried but she wouldn’t look up at him, wouldn’t respond to him or any of us.

So much for my grand idea.

It was time to think of another plan to keep my wife where she belonged. With me.