Page 80 of The Workaholic Down the Hall

I chuckled. God, I loved pregnancy hormones. I started moving again and we both reached our climaxes in record time.

“We should get back to the party,” she said, as she snuggled in close to me. “Before someone comes looking for us.”

I groaned, but she was right. There were too many damn members of my family and they were all too damn curious. I climbed out of bed, helped her up and we dressed quickly.

“Do you think Sophie's okay?” she asked. Sophie had started walking early, just last week, and she was into everything. Plus, we'd had to hire a babysitter. After I'd moved in with Aubrey, we'd decided I should put off finding a job until I had my degree. Aubrey and I had arranged our schedules so at least one of us would be home with Sophie all the time. I knew Aubrey was nervous about our first babysitter.

“I texted her before I brought you up here. Sophie's fine. She's sleeping.” I pulled up the text on my phone and showed her the picture of our sleeping daughter.

Aubrey breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you. You really are the sweetest, maybe we should get married.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Let's set a date.”

I'd asked Aubrey to marry me, for the second time, a month after she'd rejected me the first time. I'd been ready to get married immediately, but she was still nervous about rushing into things. I'd been living with her and Sophie for the past eight months and it felt like the right time to get married. As far as I was concerned, we were already a family in every way that mattered.

“Okay,” she said. “But let's do it before I'm too round to have any fun.”

That surprised me. “Next month?”

“How about next weekend?”

“Are you suggesting we elope to Vegas?”

“Nope,” she said. “We'll have it here.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What's going on?”

She smiled. “Well, your mom wanted it to be a complete surprise, sort of like your proposal, but I thought you ought to at least have some say in the guest list and your tux.”

My chest tightened and my throat felt sore. “You're serious? We're getting married next weekend?”

She smiled, her eyes lit with happiness. “We're getting married next weekend.”

I wrapped her up tight in my arms. “I don't care who's on the guest list or what my tux looks like as long as I'm marrying you.”