We always want what we don’t have, don’t we? Fin is perfect to me, and yet even she would change her body.

“So, let’s talk about sex,” she says. “Is there anything you want to know? Talk to me, kiddo.”

I laugh. “I think I’m okay. Just never had a piercing before. Wasn’t sure what to do with it.”

“You really like him.” She doesn’t ask it as a question. It’s just a statement.

“Yeah, I do.”

“What about what happened at the hospital? The night he professed his undying love for you and then asked some hooch to marry him.”

“He was on pain meds.” Should I tell her? Hell, I need to tell someone. “The hooch came to see him last night. She’s pregnant.”

“Who’s pregnant?” Star calls from across the room.

I lay my head back and groan. “Good grief,” I say. Then I tell them all what happened last night, with the girl showing up and the ceiling falling in.

“Well, that’s a fine way to get a woman into your bed,” Star says over a sniff. “Have a ceiling drop on her. That seems like overkill, though.”

“Do you want me to get a hotel room with you tonight?” Lark asks. “I’d do that for you.”

I know she would, but I kind of want to go back to Sam’s. I like the way this feels, and I really want to see where it’s going to go. “I’m okay with Sam.”

“Bow-chick-a-wow-wow,” Fin sings out. “I want details about that piercing.”

The owner of the studio we’re using comes into the room. Star claps her hands together like a teacher. “We really need to get back to work, ladies,” she says.

When the others trickle off, Star turns to me. “You’re being smart, right?”

I nod. As smart as I can be.

“Use a condom. Those Reed men breed like rabbits.” Then she walks into the booth with the others and we get set up to record some vocals.

Rabbits. Little Reeds. I have to say, that’s not an entirely bad thought.

Sam

It’s really nice walking on both feet for a change. My leg is still a bit sore, and I know I’m hobbling a little, but just about anything would be better than crutches.

I walk into the tattoo shop and am surprised to find that three of my brothers are there. They usually space it out so that they don’t all have to work at the same time. Since they expanded the shop, added more stations, and hired a few more artists, the place is busy all the time. That probably has something to do with the reality TV show about us, but still.

Logan sets his machine to the side. Nice, he signs, pointing to my leg.

“I know, right?” I sit down in a chair with wheels and spin it around in a slow circle. “It’s a lot less heavy.”

Paul picks up the schedule clipboard. “You’re not working today, are you?” He sets the clipboard to the side.

I shake my head. “Pete called and said he wanted to have a family meeting. Told me to meet him here.”

“Oh, fuck,” Paul swears. “What did he do now?”

I shrug. No telling with Pete.

“Everything go okay with the team this morning?” Matt asks, but he’s grinning, so I’m sure that Sky already told him what happened.

“Your wife is amazing,” I tell him with a smile.

“I know,” he brags. “You should see her in the sack.”

“Eww,” Logan says.

All my brothers sign while they talk so Logan doesn’t miss anything. It’s habit. He doesn’t catch everything reading lips, so we all learned to sign early on. It’s second nature to us.

Paul throws a rag at Matt. “Dude, don’t talk shit about my sister-in-law.”

Matt laughs and throws it back at him.

The door opens and Pete walks in. He jams his hands in his jeans pockets and rocks back and forth from his heels to his toes. “Do you guys have time to talk?” he asks.

Paul gets up and waves a hand toward the back of the shop. There’s an office in the rear of the shop and we go there when we want privacy. It’s the only place in the building with no cameras.

Paul closes the door once we’re all inside. He turns to Pete. “Let me guess. Reagan’s pregnant and you’re scared shitless,” he deadpans.

All the blood drains from Pete’s face. “What? Reagan’s pregnant?” He looks at each of us in turn.

“Oh, fuck,” Paul says. “You didn’t know.”

“How the fuck did you know and I didn’t?” Pete says, his voice rising.

“We didn’t know,” Matt says. “He was just guessing, because all of us, aside from Sam, came to him when we had one on the way.” Matt glares at Paul. “Why did you have to go and ruin it?”

“Hell, I thought everyone knew. She’s been sick for the past week.”

“Bad shrimp,” Pete says.

“Bad shrimp wouldn’t make her throw up every morning,” Logan chimes in. He can speak when he wants to. “She’s knocked up.”

Pete sinks down in a chair like his legs have turned to noodles.

Logan raises his hand. “When I suspected Em was pregnant and I came to spill my guts to Paul, it was because Em’s boobs were getting bigger.”

“Sky’s did too,” Matt chimes in.

Paul nods. “Same here.”

Pete looks around the room. “Reagan’s boobs are bigger, and she’s sick every morning. And afternoon. Hell, even in the evening.” He smiles, and I imagine I can see stars floating in the air around his head. “I’m going to be a dad?”