“And when we have babies—” “We’re not having babies.” “They’ll be blond and green-eyed and just like their dad.” “You’re insane.” “I’m in love.” “I’m not having babies, Molloy,” he whispered, giving me a lonesome look. “I can’t be a father.” “Joe.” “It’s a hard limit for me.” “Okay.” Giving him a reassuring smile, I said, “No babies. We’ll have a fur-baby instead.”
