Page 73 of Where It All Began
John peered over her shoulder.What?he mouthed.
Phoebe circled her face with her finger and pointed at Beckett again.
John frowned, still missing it.
Phoebe tapped her own neck and again pointed in Beckett’s direction.
Beckett turned pouring a waterfall of sugar into his mug. “Morning, Pops.”
“Christ. Not him, too,” John sighed. “I feel like we just went through this with Carter.”
“Go talk to him,” she whispered through clenched teeth. She looked at Jax, shoveling in the fruity-o’s while reading the Sunday comics. “Both of them.”
It was a benefit of having boys, she supposed. John handled the bulk of the potty-training, teaching the boys the joy of pissing in nature or off the porch. And now he was stuck with the sex ed, too.
“What do you want me to say?” Her dear husband looked both proud and panicked.
“Condoms, respect, no means hell fucking no,” she ticked the items off on her fingers as she hissed at him.
“You sound more prepared. Maybe you should handle this—”
“Go!” Phoebe growled and softened it with a wink.
Beckett’s coffee, now a pale khaki color thanks to the gallon of cream he’d added, sloshed over the rim of his mug as John grabbed him by the back of the neck.
“Outside,” John muttered.
“What the hell, dad? I didn’t do anything.”
“Tell that to the hickey on your neck. You too, Jackson. Porch. Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Phoebe gave them all of ten seconds after the front door slammed behind them before sneaking to the open living room window. She wanted to make sure John hit all the points so she wouldn’t have to do a follow-up lecture like the one that had embarrassed the hell out of Carter.
She curled into the worn sofa and pressed her face against the back cushion, listening.
“So, you and Moon Beam Parker,” John began.
“H-how did you know?” Beckett stuttered.
Phoebe smiled. Her boys thought she and John were psychic half the time. The lovable idiots just didn’t realize how transparent they were. Thank God she hadn’t raised sneaky teenage girls like she had been. She’d raised boys who were so bad at lying she knew it was false before the words tumbled out of their mouths.
“Jesus, Beckett. You’re strutting around like a prize-winning hog. An idiot could tell you had sex last night.”
“You had sex with Moon Beam Parker?” Jax asked, awed.
Phoebe heard the resounding slap of a high-five and gritted her teeth together. Men were idiots, she decided.
“Don’t be an asshole,” John said. Phoebe heard a different smack and knew John had just cuffed Beckett on the back of the head.
“Ouch! Geez, Dad!”
John sighed. “Let’s start with the basics, and then we’ll work our way up to why a high-five over sex makes you an asshole. Did you use a condom?”
“Of course, Dad. And she’s on the pill, too.”
Phoebe peered through the screen and saw John holding up a hand. Her poor husband. Even though he was a life-long Blue Mooner, he still operated under the misconstrued assumption that people deserved their privacy. “Are you two dating?” he asked.
