Sex became really monotonous when scheduled, but Ian and I didn’t have much choice about it if we wanted a baby. To the ignorant onlooker, it sounded amazing. Sex every day you’re not bleeding had to be awesome, right? Wrong. There were downsides to it.

My vagina hurt. Ian wasn’t a rough bear shifter going to town on me, but mother nature had blessed the man with girth and endurance. Even after working eight hours at the department and sometimes driving down to Houston to handle MacArthur Security business, he had all of his get up and go. But all of my tolerance for his dick had gotten up and went.

And he claimed he was getting old. Tell that to my pussy.

Because my mate excelled at everything he did, I never had to fake an orgasm. The problem was that he overachieved when sometimes I wished he’d just thrust a few times, blow his load, then go to bed.

God, I felt awful for thinking it. There were women out there with underperforming husbands unable to even find their clit, and I was wishing mine would bust a nut and call it done.

All the romance was drying up. We had the occasional special night that made me feel like the sexiest woman alive—and we certainly used the toys from L’amour—but for the most part, neither of us maintained the initial excitement that came when a doctor gave you a license to bone twenty days a month.

I didn’t look forward to doing this for a third month.

Then I remembered Ian had practically forbade me to do it.

Then I reminded myself to think positive. We wouldn’t need a third cycle of treatments. After the serious fucking he’d given me last night, I had to be pregnant.

Ignoring the scent of applewood smoked bacon wafting upstairs from our kitchen, I laid in bed another ten minutes before forcing myself to roll from beneath the covers. I took a five-minute shower, pulled on unicorn leggings with my favorite LuLaRoe Perfect T, then ventured downstairs to find my family on this fine Saturday morning.

Ian greeted me from a makeshift perch he’d made from a tree branch, him and Moonfeather side by side. He always started molting during the summer, this time of the year an itchy phase for him. Sometimes, Sophia and I both helped him break the pins encasing his new feathers.

Moonfeather had it covered.

And it was the most adorable fucking thing I’d ever seen, my two favorite guys preening each other while My Little Pony: Equestria Girls played on the television. Sophia sprawled across the rug with her sketchbook, drawing both of them in colored pencil.

“Mommy! Moonfeather is preening Daddy.”

“He sure is. I thought he’d be afraid of your father.”

“Nope. Prince Moonfeather is too brave to be afraid of eagles.”

“He definitely is.” I kissed Ian on his beak.

“Moonfeather wants a kiss, too, Mommy.”

Shit. I watched our sweet gray prince open his beak when I leaned in. “I don’t think he wants kisses from me.” He’d bitten me the last time and definitely appeared ready to do that shit again.

“But he loves kisses.”

Ian laughed, though the sound was higher pitched than his human speaking voice and it creeped me out hardcore. “I wouldn’t try it.”

Eagles were not meant to talk. Over the years, Ian had found a way to vocalize the sounds needed for speech, but it made me cringe whenever he did it. The problem was that his speech was worse than the crazy laugh.

I touched his beak. “Shh. Shh. No talking.”

He feigned nipping me.

“Be good for your father and Moonfeather. I’m taking your grandmother to the store. And probably lunch.”

“Aww, but I want to go see Grandma, too.”

“You saw Grandma three times this week,” I teased her. “We want some adult time.” The kind of time we only had without a child pleading to see the toy aisle or begging for fast food. Sophia rarely misbehaved during outings, but the girl was always hungry.

“Please, Mommy?”

“Tomorrow. After church, okay? We’ll all go to IHOP with Daddy if he doesn’t sneak away to work.” I shot Ian a look. He scowled at me—yes, it took talent to recognize the fine nuances of avian expression. “Okay, Ian?”

“Fine.”

“Okay, Sophia?”

“Okay!”

Ian stretched his neck up to me for more kisses. I placed another against the side of his yellow beak then ruffled his white face feathers with my fingers. He touched our cheeks together, and I rubbed my nose against his silky feathers.

Our first meeting as woman and eagle seemed like a million years ago. Oblivious to the existence of shifters, I’d looked outside my window to find this enormous, gorgeous specimen of a bald eagle perched on the fence. Then he’d come up to me, so fearless and handsome. I’d thought I was the luckiest woman in the world then, that his arrival was a sign of my changing luck.

It had been.

Ian’s grandmother made an easy shopping partner. Betty didn’t rush, but she didn’t stroll down every aisle either. And she never gave me any hassle when I beelined to the clearance racks. In fact, she tended to be right there beside me, rummaging for the best finds, whether it was for herself or one of us.

Sophia’s recent growth spurt meant she didn’t have many clothes for the rest of summer or for the start of school in the next couple months, and it didn’t matter that Ian told me not to worry about money because I hated blowing cash on stuff she’d grow out of before the year was out. Especially shoes.

“Does Sophia still like unicorns?” Betty asked, holding up a shirt with a cute depiction of unicorn anatomy on the front, words done in silver and pink glitter.

“She loves unicorns. That’ll be perfect for her.” Shit. I liked it, though the clearance bin wouldn’t have one large enough to fit me.

Betty added the tee to the ever-growing pile in the cart. Then we headed toward the women’s section for ourselves, but I slowed as we passed a stand holding the cutest baby outfits. Disappointment squeezed around my heart like a vice. Betty, bless her, set her hand against my arm and smiled up at me.

“It’ll happen, darling, believe me.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“You and Ian, you got something special. Knew it from the first day he brought you over to see me.”

“You mean clean up after you?” I teased. Betty tsked and waved her hand at me.

“Pish posh. You were always more than a maid, keeping an old woman company as much as you did.”

I leaned in and kissed her cheek, feeling guilty we no longer visited every day. Then again, Betty had her own life, bridge nights with her friends and we still hit up bingo at the VFW hall once a month. “I still like keeping you company. No one’s cooler than you.”

“I’m glad you think so. Now, come help me find a new swimsuit. I plan on getting some sun onto this old body.” She fluffed her white curls. “Maybe I’ll even get some color. What do you think of blue?”

For an older woman, Betty still moved with energy and had a whip sharp mind. Her distraction helped and we both ended up getting new suits. Once we checked out, I took her to the newly opened In-N-Out burger, the first one this side of Houston. The outrageous line inside was worth the wait, though. We took our double burgers, fries, and thick shakes to an outside table and sat in the shade, our hair tossed by the breeze.

“How’s that bird working out for you all?”

“Moonfeather is great. I mean, he doesn’t like me much, but he loves Sophia and Ian. They were preening each other today.”

“Really? I’ll have to get up there and see what he makes of me.”

“Why not today? You can join us for dinner.”

“I’d love that. Though I’m not sure I’ll have room for any after eating this.”

Somehow we powered through our massive, animal-style burgers. The extra grilled onions, special sauce, and pickles over two all-beef patties with cheese made a decadent splurge. Totally worth busting my diet over.

“Ready to head back, Betty?”

“And see my grandbabies? Absolutely.”

“Babies?”

“Prince Moonfeather, of course.” A bright smile lit her face and then she climbed into the car.

“Of course,” I murmured to myself, chuckling. “Time to go home.”