Page 192 of Ransom

She tosses that sultry look that makes me want to drag her back into the house and do very dirty things to her. Okay, so maybe it’s an annoyed look. Same difference. Both of them have the same effect on me.

"Hurry your ass up, or the kids are gonna eat all the marshmallows."

I can't resist—my hand connects with her backside as she passes. The fire in her eyes promises sweet revenge later. We're going to have to find somewhere a little more soundproof since Max, and more likely a couple of the other kids, are going to be crashing in our living room tonight.

Maybe the back yard again.

Grabbing a cold beer from the cooler, I make my way over to Kade. Across the circle, Becca's helping their little girl take wobbly steps, holding both tiny hands. Even though her looseshirt hides it well, I know she's carrying their second child. The pregnancy's made her even more unpredictable than usual.

It's made her ornery.

Ornery enough to call me Ranny.

The first time, I let it pass. The second time, I did too. But now, she's doing it all the time, giving me that look when she says it. That look that says, 'I'm not scared of you.'

I warned her.

She's brought this on herself.

I sidle up to Kade, and we both watch as a horde of kids screams past, chasing each other with marshmallow-tipped sticks.

"Jesus fuck! You're going to kill someone. Stop fucking running," he yells, a hint of panic in his voice. They do stop thankfully, some of the neighborhood kids giving him apologetic looks. Max and Mia don't look sorry at all. He sighs, looking back at Becca, and their little girl, face going all soft and mushy.

This is going to be so easy.

"How's the pregnancy going?" I ask, taking a swig of my beer.

Kade grunts. "We're in the stage where she can't stand the way I chew. So, pretty well."

I chuckle, clapping him on the back. The things Becca can't stand rotated almost monthly during her last pregnancy. I think my favorite stage was in the ninth month when she'd randomly punch Kade in the stomach and yell at him that he's never touching her again. Obviously, she got over it after the baby was born, but my god, his whining those last few weeks was fun to watch. "You two deserve a break. Why don't you take her away for a weekend?"

Kade raises an eyebrow. "And go where, exactly?"

I hesitate, as if an idea's just struck me. "Well, I don't know if you'd be into it, but..." I trail off, letting the bait dangle. Should I feel bad for lying to my brother? Maybe.

Do I?

Not a bit.

Kade takes the bait. "But what?"

"Well, I caught her watching one of those historical romance shows the other day. And she was telling Blair that she wished she could experience that—one of those historical reenactment places. You know, where she can dress up in old-timey dresses, eat fancy foods, go to a ball," I say, shamelessly weaving my wife into my lie. I'll fill her in later. She'll have my back. She always does when it comes to fucking with my brothers.

And she’s not afraid of Becca, which is damn hot.

Kade looks skeptical. "You think she'd like that?"

Would the woman who made them leave a Michelin star restaurant and go to Outback on their first date like wearing a corset and fancy dresses? No fucking chance. Which is the point.

I nod. "Are you kidding? She'd love it. It's right up her alley—all that weird, quirky stuff. Plus, it'd be a change of scenery. A chance for both of you to unwind. A babymoon. Before she gets to the stage that she can't stand the way you breathe."

Kade considers it, rubbing his chin. "That gives me less than a fucking month." He nods slowly. "It's not really my kind of thing, but fuck, it might be fun to dress up. I saw one of those fucking shows once, and the dude flipped up her skirt and… well, anyway. I have some shit I'd like to reenact. I'll look into it."

"No need," I say, pulling out my phone. "I already found an event happening next weekend. It's perfect—they've got a whole Jane Austen thing going on."

"Brother! You're the fucking best. And you'll watch Mattie?" I nod because of course I'll watch Matilda. The baby is yummy, and she's got her mom's personality— a little crazy, but also weirdly chill. "Dude. You fucking rock. Okay, I'll get us tickets."

"Keep it a surprise," I suggest, pocketing my phone. "She'll love it even more if she doesn't see it coming."

---