Full Throttle (Fast Track #7)(40)
Author: Erin McCarthy

But Sandy waved her words off. “It’s time for me to go home and cook for Senior. He gets cranky if dinner is late.”

“What were you two laughing about anyway?” Rhett wanted to know. “I’m a little scared to find out.”

“We were looking at designer tuxes from these bridal magazines the twins brought,” his mother said. “They’re ridiculous. I don’t know a man in Charlotte who would wear a skinny tux in red.”

Shawn grinned at Rhett’s expression. He looked like someone had suggested removing his testicles.

“Neither do I,” he said emphatically.

“And I showed Shawn a baby picture of you we might use for a slide show.”

“Oh, Lord,” was his opinion. It was accompanied by a wince.

“We scheduled a photo shoot for you on Thursday out at our house,” Sandy continued.

Now Rhett looked like he had indigestion. “A photo shoot? For what?”

“For your wedding announcement.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. Then louder, he added, “I’m not photogenic, you know. Do we really need to do this?”

Shawn grinned, feeling a whole lot better now that he was aware of what she’d been subjected to all afternoon. “You’d take better pictures if you smiled.”

He glared at her.

Sandy nodded in agreement. “That’s what I always tell him!”

“I can’t smile when someone is shoving a camera in my face. It’s so fake.”

“Well, buck up,” was his mother’s final opinion. “You’re doing it. What are you going to tell your kids someday if there isn’t a single picture of the two of you together?”

That knocked the grin off Shawn’s face. Kids? Good God. The unexpected image of a couple of toddlers bouncing on their bed popped into her head. For a split second, she could have sworn she actually felt a fluttering in her womb, like it was yawning awake after a lifetime of slumber, shaken to awareness by the idea of procreation with Rhett. Holy crap. Not good.

“I don’t have an answer for that, honestly,” Rhett told his mother.

“You are going to have kids, right? And sooner rather than later. I understand that Shawn is already in her thirties.”

Huh. The fluttering stopped. In fact, her uterus might have cringed in horror at that reminder.

“Mom!” Rhett gave his mother a stern look. “I’m not discussing our procreation plans with you two days after our wedding. In fact, I’m not discussing our procreation plans with you ever.”

Because there would be no procreation plans.

She should feel relieved.

Instead, she just felt unsettled. She was only thirty-three, or would be in two weeks anyways. That was young still. She had a decade before the factory would shut down. Or at least seven years. Four, if she really wanted to have the best shot at a quick conception. Two, if she didn’t want to be considered high risk.

Holy shit.

When had this happened? When had she even cared about having children? Now she was suddenly realizing that by the time this marriage with Rhett was over, she would have to start over dating, as a divorcée, and then who knew when she could even contemplate starting a family?

“That doesn’t change the facts. Shawn, you want children, right?” Sandy asked her.

Unable to speak, she simply nodded, her stomach in knots.

“Then it’s silly to wait five years. Rhett wants kids, too.”

She cleared her throat and managed to choke out, “Rhett is only twenty-five. Maybe he’s not ready.”

“Then he shouldn’t have married a woman almost ten years older than him. Your fertility is dropping like a stone as we speak.”

Now she was officially speechless. Sandy made her sound like her eggs were petrifying, ovaries deflating like a fallen soufflé. She had never felt quite so old or quite so past her expiration date.

“Mom.” Rhett used a tone that brooked no arguments. “That is way out of line. You’ve hurt Shawn’s feelings.”

Sandy did look contrite, but Shawn still felt stung, with no clue what to say.

“I’m sorry, dear, that didn’t really sound right, did it? It’s just that children are such a blessing.”

“We’re not having nine, I can guarantee that,” Rhett told her.

Hell, no. Because even if this were a real marriage, which it wasn’t, Shawn was clearly too old to have nine kids unless they were three sets of triplets. God, she had a headache again. The aspirin from the morning had clearly worn off.

“And you already have enough grandkids to bankrupt you at Christmas, so just chill out. Let’s just focus on being married for a while, and getting to know each other and each other’s families.” Rhett gave a rueful look. “If Shawn is still interested in getting to know the Fords after that introduction.”

“Shawn knows I just have your best interests at heart, don’t you, dear?”

She nodded, even if she had no idea what Sandy’s intentions really were. “Of course,” she managed to say.

Rhett still looked put out. “Momma, if and when we get pregnant, you’ll be the first to know. Otherwise, I’m telling you with all the love in my heart to butt out.”

“Your brother would never talk to me like that,” she sniffed. But to Shawn, her expression looked like she wasn’t genuinely put out. If anything, her love for her youngest son shone through. She admired him for standing up for his wife, it was obvious.

“No,” Rhett agreed. “But he wouldn’t let you make Eve feel bad either. He would just say it in a more charming way.” Rhett turned to Shawn. “And now you’ve witnessed the Ford family dynamic. I’m sorry to say you did not get the charming brother.”

Something stirred in Shawn that she did not want to examine too closely. “No, I got the loyal one.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek before she could stop herself.

She had the satisfaction of seeing that she had actually caught Rhett off guard. That wasn’t easy to do, yet he looked downright sheepish. His mother was beaming.

“And on that note, I’ll leave you two to your dinner and newlywed shenanigans.” Sandy gave each of them a hug.

Shawn hugged her back and tried to forcibly shove the phrase if and when we get pregnant out of her head. This wasn’t what she had signed on for, but what was more disturbing than anything was her confusion and reaction to marriage, babies, family. She must be missing Pops more than she realized. Or the sex had gone to her head.