My brother's girlfriend Sandy's having a baby girl too, so I'm sure they'll be the best of cousin friends. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly.
"Blueday has sent a list of ideas for what the production company can film." Pulling the folded paper from my pocket, I smooth it out on the table and scan over it. "House hunting, shopping for the crib, a night out…" I pause for a moment and shake my head. "Can you believe they have the audacity to put in brackets that I can only be seen drinking water?”
"I guess they think a mocktail could look like you're pregnant and drinking alcohol," Jax says.
Making a growling sound, I poke the list. "They literally think I can't tie my own shoelaces."
"Don't stress the small stuff," Mo says, rubbing my back. "What else is on the list?"
"A day at the spa with Sandy."
"Do you think she'll go for that?" Connor asks.
"I have absolutely no idea. How about this one? Movie night at home."
"What? They want to film us watching TV?"
I snort, reaching for another cookie. "I guess they think they'll catch some foot rubs and cuddling. Maybe a popcorn fight. We'll have to think of ways of making our ordinary life more interesting."
"Our ordinary life rocks," Jax says. "Don't you worry. I'll make everyone laugh, and it'll be fine."
"Better warn the production company to bring a wide-lens camera," Asher says. "To capture all of Jax's huge head."
There's some good-natured jostling, and while Connor is telling them to grow up, I fold the paper and put it back in my pocket because Jax is right. It doesn't matter what the production company films, it'll be fine because we're awesome together. If they capture nothing but our real relationship, it'll do exactly what we need it to do: show the world that we're normal, despite our unconventional relationship.
"Anyway," I say, trying to interrupt their shenanigans. "I'm meeting up with the Reverse Harem Ladies Club. It's my first time."
"Well, you must be way more qualified than any of the others," Connor laughs. "Aren't they all in smaller groups?"
"It's not the number of men that counts," I say, raising my eyebrows. "It's what they do that counts."
"Then you're definitely the queen of that club." Hudson comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, pressing warm kisses to my neck.
I put my hand up quickly. "Don't start with all of that," I say. "I just spent half an hour washing off the mess you made of me this morning. I don't have time to do it all over again."
"You love our mess," Jax says.
"That is absolutely not the point," I say. "I do not want to be late."
I leave my men at home and am accompanied to the cute café where I'm meeting up with Sandy and her friends by Mr. Wright and three of his team. Since the stalker was captured, Blueday has decreased the number of bodyguards who have to follow me around, but four still draw so much attention. I'm looking forward to a time when maybe one or two will be enough. Mr. Wright actually apologized for not taking Marcus more seriously. Over time, they’ve actually become more like friends, which is just how it should be. I guess the fact that I have seven huge boyfriends is enough to make them buck up their ideas up too.
The café is as cute as I imagined and I'm the last to arrive, despite aiming to be early.
I'm used to heads turning whenever I go anywhere so it’s no surprise to see people staring. I guess my look is so distinctive that even when I'm wearing sunglasses, it's easy to make me out. Thankfully no one asks for an autograph or a selfie, and I make it to the last vacant seat at the table.
"Luna," Sandy says, standing to hug me. "I'm so happy that you made it."
"I've been looking forward to this so much," I say. "It's the only normal thing in my calendar right now."
"Normal?" one of the women at the table snorts. The rest laugh, but it's not in a mocking way. More self-deprecating. "It's been a long time since anyone called us that." She holds out her hand. "I'm Connie, by the way."
"Nice to meet you." The rest of the women introduce themselves. There's Natalie, who's in a harem with three men, Connie, who has four firemen husbands, Melanie, who's shacked up with five cowboys, and Sandy, who's bagged six men. Hudson was right. I am the queen of this club.
"So you hit the jackpot," Natalie says, tucking her blonde bob behind her ears as though she's readying herself to hear some major gossip. "Seven men." Shaking her head, she makes a whistling noise, which I’m not sure is appreciative or overwhelmed.
"Seven," I say proudly.