"Of course I can do this. I'm pregnant, not brain-damaged. My condition doesn't change my personality."
Sebastian it is. You can tell me what a patron saint is later, since I have no knowledge of such things. Sebastian Kane.
"Sebastian Kane Cannon. You're going to marry me and use my last name, right?"
"Is that supposed to be a proposal?"
"We have to actually choose a name," Kane murmured above her head. "We can't keep calling him 'baby.' When he's fifteen he might resent it."
One thing about Kane - he never did anything by halves.
"Listen, Sebastian," he whispered. "That beautiful sound belongs to us for the rest for our lives. That's your mother. She's sunshine. No matter what happens in our lives, we have that."
"Are you going to win every argument?" He was pretty certain he'd asked her that once before. May be twice.
"Only the important ones."
On the other hand, she never looked as -big- as she did at that moment.
"What?" Rose demanded, glaring up at him.
The warning signal flashed bright red in Kane's head. Telling a woman she was as big as a beach ball wouldn't win any points. How did one describe how she looked? A basketball? Volleyball? He studied her furious little face. Yeah. He was in big trouble no matter what he said. Description was out of the question. He needed diplomacy, something that flew out of the window when he was near her and she said the words like contractions.
"You are such a chicken. Bock. Bock. Bock."
He refused to allow her very bad chicken impression to ruffle his feathers. He was above petty name-calling.
Sebastian it is. You can tell me what a patron saint is later, since I have no knowledge of such things. Sebastian Kane.
"Sebastian Kane Cannon. You're going to marry me and use my last name, right?"
"Is that supposed to be a proposal?"
"We have to actually choose a name," Kane murmured above her head. "We can't keep calling him 'baby.' When he's fifteen he might resent it."
One thing about Kane - he never did anything by halves.
"Listen, Sebastian," he whispered. "That beautiful sound belongs to us for the rest for our lives. That's your mother. She's sunshine. No matter what happens in our lives, we have that."
"Are you going to win every argument?" He was pretty certain he'd asked her that once before. May be twice.
"Only the important ones."
On the other hand, she never looked as -big- as she did at that moment.
"What?" Rose demanded, glaring up at him.
The warning signal flashed bright red in Kane's head. Telling a woman she was as big as a beach ball wouldn't win any points. How did one describe how she looked? A basketball? Volleyball? He studied her furious little face. Yeah. He was in big trouble no matter what he said. Description was out of the question. He needed diplomacy, something that flew out of the window when he was near her and she said the words like contractions.
"You are such a chicken. Bock. Bock. Bock."
He refused to allow her very bad chicken impression to ruffle his feathers. He was above petty name-calling.
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