"Easy for you to say," Gwen protests with a petulant little frown. "You're not a woman pushing thirty surrounded by babies and pregnant women. Years? God, I think my ovaries would implode by then."

Moaning, she tips forward and presses her face against Rob's stomach. "What if he wants to wait? What if he thinks he'll get home and doesn't want to start a family with me, here? What if he doesn't think he's ready for kids?"