Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad
“Well,” Kent murmurs, nudging my ear with his nose, “we could just name the baby, and have it done with. Then you wouldn’t have to rely on vegetables, which I know you hate anyway.”
I stick out my tongue a little, admitting it, and I can feel his laughter reverberate in his chest.
The door opens again and Janeen comes out with a little tea tray with a mismatched set of pot and cups. To my surprise, Kent gets up and takes it from her, thanking her.