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thought they couldn’t leak anything until after BB is born. And speaking
of BB, can we please discuss names? I really cannot bring myself to call him
that anymore.”
    “Why not? It’s cute.” She drops her head back onto my
shoulder and looks up at me with a smirk. “I was actually thinking of calling
him that officially.”
    I squint at her, narrowing my gaze and trying to assess
whether she is bluffing or not. “Don’t kid a kidder, my love”
    “I’m not.”
    “You better be, because there is no way in hell we are
naming our son BB.”
    She bites the inside of her bottom lip and smiles. “Fine,
but I at least want his name to begin with B.”
    “Why?”
    “No reason,” she shrugs.
    Leaning forward, I plant a quick kiss on her forehead,
causing her eyes to close momentarily. I love how her eyelids fall heavy for
the smallest of moments when I kiss her. It shows her vulnerability to my
touch. “Okay, the letter B it is. It’s a good letter,” I confidently grin at
her.
    “Hmm, I know,” she moans, arching her head back further, her
lips reaching for mine.
    Lowering my head so that I can give her what she wants, what
I want—what I always want, to taste her—I savour the feel of her sweet warm
mouth, the soft silky glide of her tongue against mine. She tastes like the
most delectable form of oral consumption known to man, and I am the lucky son
of a bitch who solely gets to consume her.
    Regretfully, I separate my mouth from hers and pull away. “I
have a little work to do.”
    She pouts, and it’s so fucking lovable. “Fine, you important
business man. I have a date with a very naughty priest anyway.”
    What naughty priest? This is the first I’ve heard of
Alexis being religious.
    I pull my head back from her in slight disbelief. “Priest?”
    “Yes, Father Stearns.”
    “Are you Catholic?”
    “No. But after reading this book, I’m thinking of possibly
converting.”
    “What book?”
    She laughs and gives me a little shove. “Never mind. Go, go
and do what you do.”
    I take a few steps backward in the direction of my office,
still confused by this Stearns bloke.
    Still laughing, Alexis blows me a kiss. “Don’t look so
concerned.”
    “I’m not. I’m not scared of a priest.”
    As I turn and open the door to my office, I hear her mumble
something barely audible until I hear the word clown.
    I pause.
    “I love you,” she calls out, giggling.
    “Hmmm,” is my only response.
    ***
    I spend the next hour looking up baby names beginning with
the letter B. Let’s just ignore the fact that I am supposed to be finalising
the complex’s involvement in the upcoming AFL Grand Final celebrations, because
the thought of giving my son a name is far more important.
    “Bailey,” I say to myself. Nah, too much like Irish
Cream. “Bane,” I voice with a wishy-washy tone. Hmmm .
    I decide to check the meaning behind that particular name.
“Son of a farmer.” No, that won’t do, although, he is the grandson of a
farmer.
    I keep scanning.
    “Beaver?”  Are you fucking for real, who would call their
son Beaver? “Bowel?” Now that’s just cruel. I shake my head and keep
reading down the list. “Boyd.” Maybe. It does say that Boyd means blonde
haired, and I’m fairly certain our son will be blonde.
    Scanning further down the list, I spot my name. Curious as
to its meaning, I read on. “Ambitious and quick minded,” I smile and nod. Fuckin’
oath, I am.
    My phone rings, breaking my attention to the name searching.
I pick it up and notice Derek’s goofy looking face on my screen. “Hey, Mate.
What’s goin’ on?”
    “I was thinking ‘bout the intro song for the next gig. How
‘bout ‘Birth’ by 30STM?” Derek suggests, apparently forgetting the courtesy of
a greeting.
    “Yeah, nice! Have you spoken to Will about it? That song is
all about the drums.”
    “Yeah, Will’s on board.”
    “Good. I guess we open with ‘Birth’ then,” I reply, still
gazing at the list of