“What the fuck happened this morning?” Izzy said over the phone before I could even say hello.

“Nothing, why?” I rested the receiver on my shoulder and stuck the bottle back in Ro’s mouth before she screamed.

“He walked into the shop cranky as hell.”

I bit my lip and felt a small twinge of guilt, but it quickly vanished. I pushed three human beings out of my body, the least he could do was get snipped so I wouldn’t have to do it a fourth time.

“I kinda told him he should get a vasectomy.”

She started to laugh—quietly at first, but it grew louder and verged on hysterics. “I can’t believe—” She sucked in some air and kept laughing. “You’re ballsier than I thought.” She coughed, trying to catch her breath. “I give you a lot of credit, Suzy Q. As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I could tell James to do the same.”

“It’s only fair, Izzy. I don’t want another baby, and it’s the least he can do.”

“Oh, girl. I get it. I do. I get why he’s all growly now. He’s worried about his precious bits.”

“It’s not like they lop them off. He’s not an animal. It’s a simple cut and heals quickly.”

“I know. I know. But you know how men are about their junk. You’d swear it was vital to survival.”

“Well, if he still wants to have sex with me, he’ll get it taken care of.”

She started to laugh again. “I gotta go. My client just walked in.”

“Izzy,” I said quickly before she could hang up. “Don’t tease your brother about it. This is between us.”

“Yep. Sure thing,” she replied before the line went dead, and I let the phone drop to the cushion next to me.

As soon as Ro finished her bottle, I put each of them in their carriers and texted Frisco that we were ready. I needed to get out of the house after feeling like a caged animal and trapped with the babies for a few days. We were only going to the grocery store, but I was happy to go anywhere.

“Are we going for a few hours or for a week?” Frisco asked while he shoved everything into the back of the SUV.

“There’s no such thing as traveling light with kids, especially twins.”

“I can see that.”

“You need a stroller, bottles, diapers, and everything else imaginable in case something unexpected happens.”

“Like what?” he asked, grabbing Lu’s carrier from my hands before hoisting it into the back seat and snapping it into place under my watchful eye.

“Well, like one of them could have a diaper malfunction and could need a change of clothes.” I locked Ro’s carrier into the backseat and closed the door.

“Does that happen often?” His mouth gaped open.

I scrunched up my face when I climbed into the passenger seat. “More than you wish it did.”

He rubbed his forehead before pressing on his eyes. “Maybe I need to rethink this baby thing.”

“Did you talk to Georgia last night?” I had completely forgotten to message her and give her a heads-up.

He nodded slowly and started the engine. “Yeah. We had a long talk.”

Pulling down the visor, I checked my makeup. “And?”

“She said she’s ready to start trying.”

“Oh my God,” I squealed and clapped my hands like a crazy woman. “This makes me so happy.”

He gave me a sideways glance. “Why do women get happy about that shit?”

“Because it means our babies can play together. Maybe you’ll have boys and they can get married.”

Okay. Clearly, I’m getting way ahead of myself. But I always had a dream, a fairy tale of sorts, where my children would marry the children of my friends. Once kids got hitched, the parents were locked together for eternity too. The Gallos were perfect, but they got stuck with my parents. They are not a gift in anyone’s life.

“Um, yeah, maybe.” He shrugged. “Let us get pregnant first before we start planning a ceremony, okay?”

“Okay.” I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. When I’d pushed Frisco and Georgia toward each other, I knew they’d be perfect together. I knew it in my core, even though it took a lot of convincing and underhanded actions on my part. It was worth it because now they’re going to have a baby.

“City seemed a little preoccupied when he left this morning. Did he see something last night?”

“Um,” I mumbled and twisted my hands in my lap. “No.”

“Everything okay?” He looked over at me and frowned.

“We’re perfect.”

“Then why are you fidgeting all of a sudden?”

My hands stopped moving. “I didn’t notice I was. Sorry.”

He didn’t push again, and I stared out the window and thought about my husband. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Men get it done all the time.

I looked over at him and pulled at my lip. “Let me ask you this, Frisco. ’Cause you’re a man.”

“Last time I checked, I was.” He laughed softly.

“Men,” I muttered under my breath. “What’s the big deal about vasectomies?”

His head jerked backward and his eyes met mine. “As in, a knife near my balls vasectomy?”

I nodded and shrugged at the same time and probably looked like a moron. “I think that’s the only kind.”

“I think I answered it.”

“How?” I asked, confused.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and he kept his eyes pinned to the road. “I just said it… It’s a knife near a man’s most private area.”

“You mean, favorite area.” I rolled my eyes. Was every man a pussy?

“Same thing.”

“So what? Women go through worse than that in childbirth. It takes five minutes to get the procedure done, and they use like two stitches to close the incision.”

He trembled. “The fact that you need a stitch says the cut is way too big.”

“Oh, for Jesus’s sake. When I had my episiotomy when Gigi was born, I don’t even know how many stitches they used to sew me shut.”

His eyebrows squished together, almost meeting the wrinkle in his nose. “What the fuck is that?”

“Sometimes, the baby doesn’t have enough room to come out. So they have to—”

“Stop!”

My head tipped to the side as I stared at him. “I didn’t get to the grossest part.”

“You said enough.”

“Well, it makes a vasectomy look like a splinter.”

“I’ve never had a splinter on my junk, so I wouldn’t know.”

“You’re all babies.”

“I can take a punch to the face, a knife to the gut, hell, even a gunshot…but don’t even think about cutting open my stuff.”

I rolled my eyes and exhaled. He was just like the rest of them. Even my manly husband would need some convincing. I’d always thought of him as a superhero, but every single one of them had a weakness. His wasn’t kryptonite. Nope, it was a knife near his “junk,” as Frisco said.

I’d just have to find a way to make it worth his while. If that didn’t work, I’d scare the heck out of him and make him run to the nearest doctor’s office. Either way…it was going to happen.