| 039 | Ruby |

"Yes, we slept together," Rhys chuckled overwhelmed.

"Was that when you made me?" My son asked shamelessly.

"Oh, my God," I covered my face with my hands, embarrassed.

"No," Rhys fully giggled this time. "We made you in mid June."

"Rhys!" I growled.

"What? He asked."

"He's our son, we shouldn't tell him those things," I gasped.

"So, I was made... in the summer?" Rhett asked instead.

"Oh, God," I cried exasperated. "Rhett, stop making those questions."

"But I'm curious. So, dad, where did you graduate?"

"Harvard Business school, in the June of 2019, at 21. Later in MIT Engineering school, in an early graduation in June of 202, at 24, in Computer Engineering," oh? I didn't knew the second one. "The 1st for family business, the 2nd for my own satisfaction. Both as the valedictorian," he purred pridefully, as he should.

"Computer Engineering?" Rhett gasped in awe and I couldn't help smiling, since that's the major my son told me he wanted to go for. "It's my dream."

"Damn, you really are a mini-me!" Rhys beamed with a big smile that made him even more breathtakingly handsome, and pressed my lips, feeling them burning with the urge to kiss him, which is absurd. "What do you wanna be, Lloyd?"

It's adorable how he's not leaving Lloyd aside and it's integrating him in it too.

"I want to be an a mechanical engineer, like Tony Stark!" He beamed.

"That sounds awesome too," Rhys encouraged him. "Any other passions?"

"Cooking," Lloyd clapped his hands.

"Art," our son said dreamy.

"Guitar and art," he joined the boys. "Love?"

"I don't know if it counts, but, book-biding," I pressed my lips together.

"Book-biding?" He purred and looked at me with amusement as he paused the car in a red light, making my blood rush to my cheeks, flushing my skin. "That's new, but it sounds like you, it's interesting. How does it work?"

Is he joking or is he being genuine?

"Mum is amazing at it!" Rhett hyped me up.

"I take book whose cover I don't like, or that has a paperback cover, then I reap it apart, rebind the book, and produce a new hardcover for it. It takes a bit of time, and mum finds it terribly boring, but I like it," I've never told anyone but mum and Rhett this before.

"Do you also make the dust jackets?" He asked and I stared at him.

He really is interested in my hobbies, isn't he?

How am I supposed to react to that?

"Love?" He tilted his head to me.

I gulped, "No. I'm... not so good with designing my own arts for the stories."

"I am," he chanted and turned his chartreuse green eyes back to the road as the light went green again, "I could design them for you."

From what book did this men fall out of? "You'd need to read the books."

"I love reading," he rolled his shoulders. "I've read all your books."

What? "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that, I've read all of your books," he chuckled. "I may not have been able to keep tabs on you here in London, but I was able to learn what pen names you had pick to write on. Rebecca and R. C., so, I've got all of your books. I've read them all, like, thrice by now, all marked and with my notes," he halted the car again, in another red light, turning his beautiful eyes to me. "Maybe we could exchange them, if you have them with your own notes in it, and it would also be amazing if you signed all of them, added a special note for me, and also,"

Grabbing hold of his coat, I bend him to me and smashed my lips against his.

"Oh, my God," the boys gasped in the back seat.

But I didn't break it, I pressed my lips onto his and he cupped my face as he kissed me back, deepening it. And I would have kissed him more, had it not been for Rhett pushing us away from each other, "Ew, not in front of me, you're my parents, do that behind closed doors or when I'm not around. Control yourself, mum, ugh, my eyes."

"Sand," Rhys groaned at him.

I frowned, "Why are you calling our son Sand?"

He blinked, looked at our son, than at me, Rhett looked at him, he looked at him, then they shared another annoying look, before looking at me again, "He told me that was his nickname."

What? What did I miss? "No, it's not," I gasped.

"But it could be!" Rhett snapped his fingers.

I glared at him, "You're not being nicknamed Sand, young men."

"Why not?" He pouted.

"Why would you want that at all?" It makes no sense.

"Your favorite male fictional character is Rhysand, dad is Rhys, I'm Sand."

My jaw dropped, "Leave my fictional characters alone."

"Mum, Sand is better than Rat!"

"Who calls you that?" I gasped, remembering the jerks from his class.

"My name sounds like a bit too much like that, mum!" He groaned.

"I'm not nicknaming Sand, Rhett. Rhees would suit you too!"

"That's dad's nickname," he gasped.

"R-H-Y-S is different than R-H-E-E-S, his could be pronounced as Rice."

Rhys looked offended, "No, it could not. It's pronounced R-E-E-S."

"Well, if you're R-E-E-S, then Rhett could be R-I-C-E."

"What? No. Sand is better, mum. I don't want to be Rice, I want to be Sand."

I caressed my temples, "Heavens above, I can't believe I'm having this dumb argument with you two," I denied to myself. "What happened to my life?"

"Will you sleep over our house tonight, Lloyd?" Rhys asked, ignoring me.

"My house," I groaned, "not ours, mine."

"Semantics, love. We'll soon move to our villa, then it'll be ours."

"We will move together?" Rhett beamed so loudly I flinched, and when I glared at Rhys, he had a shite-eating grin on, and I bloody know he did it on purpose. "Oh, my God, mum, we'll move together? We'll live together? When? Just us?"

"Soon," Rhys told him. "Me, you, your mom, your grandma, my older sister and my cousin who happens to be my best friend and your future godfather."

"I have a Godfather?" He giggled overjoyed and I covered my face with my hands in utter dismay at what the arsehole was doing. "Grandma Cinthya will live with us too? And I have an aunt? Oh, my God. This is the best."

"Innit?" Rhys grinned, mimicking my damn accent.

"Don't do that, British doesn't suit you," I snapped annoyed.

"If it suits our son, it suits me," he purred.

"Our son, is British, you ain't!"

"But I'll be, when I get the green card from marrying you!"

"I'm not British," I scoffed.

"But you have the green card from living here for more than 10 years, love, and you have a double nationality, since your mom is British. Plus, our son. So, I'll be British for association after marrying you!"

"Being British for association is not a thing," I snapped.

But his grin widened, "Did you notice?"

I crunched my eyebrows, already done with him, "Notice what?"

"I said that I'll marry you twice, and you didn't deny it!" He beamed.

And the emotion in his smile was son genuine that I was unable to even bloody deny it, because fuck, who am I lying to? How long will I resist this arsehole after we start living in the same place, which will definitely happen now that he used our son to get what he wanted, how long?

"You're unbearably annoying, Rhyot Crowther," I hissed, averting his eyes.

"And you'll soon be Mrs. Crowther," he chanted.

"Hah," I scoffed, "dreaming is free."

"Our marriage won't be," he countered, like the quick-witted jerk that he is.