She smiles. “I felt the baby kick, you doofus.” Her eyes widen again, and she sucks in a breath. “There…I felt it again.” She grins. “More of a tap than a kick, but I definitely felt it.”
“What?” I ask, putting her down.
“Here,” she says. “Right over here.” She has her hand on her belly. “Feel for yourself. Hopefully, it’s not too soft.”
I put my hand where hers was a second ago and bang…there it is. A teeny, tiny kick! A little…tap. Our Baby Bean is kicking. I choke out a strangled laugh and drop to my knees in front of her.
Ava laughs with me.
I keep my hand on her belly.
“I’ve thought I felt something over the last day or two,” she explains. “Something…like bubbles in my belly. I thought it might be gas, but…it’s not.”
“Definitely not gas,” I say. “You were right. It’s our little Bean baby.” I rub her belly, planting a kiss in the vicinity of the kicks.
“Congrats, you guys.” Night is standing. For a second, I forgot he was here. “I’m going to head out.” He points at the door.
I get up off the floor. “No, you should stay. Have another beer.”
He shakes his head. “Nah…I have a couple of things I need to plan. And then,” he looks at his watch, “we’re going to see Shannon’s parents this afternoon. I should head back.”
“Good luck,” I offer. We say our goodbyes. I put my arms around Ava and pull her in close. “We’re having a baby!” I say, a smile on my face.
She laughs.
“I still can’t believe it. We need to start talking about names, and we need a nursery.”
“We need to plan the wedding, then we can think about the nursery.” She looks tense. “As to a name...” Her expression intensifies.
“You have something in mind?”
She nods once. “I do.”
“How’s about we grab those snacks you made…” I brush my lips against hers. “Thanks for that, by the way, and then we can talk all about it.” I put my arm around her.
She nods once, looking nervous. I’m pretty sure I know where she’s going with this. At least, I think I do. What my woman doesn’t seem to realize yet, is that I would do almost anything for her. Scratch that, I would do anything for my Oreo. Any-fucking-thing!
6
Shannon
I’m crapping myself. Today will be the first day I see my parents in over a year. I know exactly what to expect.
I guess I’m going to pull one of Night’s old habits. He used to go and visit his father in the hopes of finding a connection. I’m going to see my parents in the hopes that they will be openminded…loving…caring. In the hopes that they will see me for who I am and accept me for me. That they will accept Night because he is the man I have chosen to spend my life with. Bottom line, he is the man I love.
Having said all of that, I will not expect miracles. Chances are good, things are going to go as predicted. Chances are good that although I have changed enormously over the last year and a half, they will still be exactly the same. As the saying goes, you can’t fit a round peg into a square hole. My shape has changed. It’s as simple as that.
I have been thinking about them and about my old life. I ultimately need closure. That’s why we are here.
“Are we going to tell them about Blobby?” Night glances my way before putting his eyes back on the road.
I make a sound of disapproval. “Stop calling our baby Blobby.” It’s a cute nickname, but I’m not so sure I like it for our precious baby. I guess I don’t outright dislike it. I can see Night is trying to be sweet. He has already connected with our little one.
“Would you prefer Spud?” He grins at me. “Or Peanut? Peanut is pretty cute. We can’t say ‘it’ though. I would prefer Blobby or Spud to ‘it’.” He widens his eyes as he says the word ‘it’.
“No, we definitely can’t refer to our child as ‘it’. In that case, I’ll take Blobby. Spud or Peanut don’t seem right either.”
“That’s just it, it’s going to be difficult to remain gender-neutral until we find out the little one’s sex, which, if we are lucky, will be at sixteen weeks. If we’re unlucky, we might have to wait until twenty weeks…or longer.” He shakes his head. “These things aren’t an exact science. I happen to like Blobby, but we can try something else if you would prefer.”
My heart is melting. My ovaries would be popping out eggs if I wasn’t already pregnant. How utterly sweet of this man. “You’ve been reading up on the stages of pregnancy?” I smile. It isn’t really a question, because I can hear that he has.
Night puts on his blinker and makes the turn. Then, he glances my way, a wry look on his handsome face. “Of course I have. You guys mean the world to me.” He reaches over and squeezes my thigh gently before putting his hand back on the wheel.
“I guess you’re right about a nickname…” I chuckle softly. “Blobby is cute, I will admit, although, he or she won’t look like a blob for very much longer.”
“I know that.”
I lift my brows. “I guess it’s better than Spud or Peanut. More unique.”
“Let’s just go with Blobby. It won’t be for very long. In under two months, we’ll know what we’re having…hopefully. Then we can switch to ‘he’ or ‘she’. We can even decide on a name.” Night sounds excited.
I scrunch up my nose for a second. “That’s just it, I think I want the baby’s sex to be a surprise,” I blurt. “I’d like to wait, if that’s okay with you?” It’s something I’ve been thinking about. I hold my breath. This has to be a joint decision.
He frowns. I can see he’s giving it some thought. Then he smiles. “Sure…I guess…I kind of assumed we’d find out but… I’m happy to wait if that’s what you want.”
I push out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “Oh, good! It’s such a big moment. I think it’ll be amazing if we meet our baby and find out whether Blobby is a boy or a girl. I’d really like to wait.”
“Okay, then. I guess the little one is going to be called Blobby for a lot longer than I anticipated.”
“If you’re okay with waiting, then I’m okay with Blobby as a nickname,” I say as he pulls up to the massive wrought iron gates that lead to my parent’s house. “Wow! This is impressive.” He whistles low.
I smile at him, feeling butterflies going wild in my stomach when I think about my family waiting to greet us.
The gate opens before Night can press the intercom button.
“They have CCTV,” I explain, pointing at the camera mounted to the one side.
He nods once and puts his car into drive. “You didn’t answer me when I asked if we were going to tell your parents about Blobby.” He glances at me and then pulls off, slowly making our way down the long, winding driveway.
It’s something I’ve thought about a lot since I made the decision to visit my folks. I shake my head. “I don’t want today to be about my pregnancy. I will have to tell them, but…” I shake my head. “I’d rather wait.” I know that my mother will take the news badly. Night and I aren’t married…heck, we’re technically not even engaged. It will be considered a scandal. I’m not ashamed. I just want to figure out where we stand without adding the baby into the scenario.
“Let’s play it by ear,” he suggests.
“Good idea,” I agree, feeling a little better. That’s until I see them. They’re standing under the porte-cochère.
“Fuck me, but your house looks like a hotel.” Night sounds shocked.
“It’s all about appearances…and it’s not my house. Not anymore.”
“Yep.” He glances my way. “You’re stuck living with me now.” He winks.
“Hardly stuck.”
“Where should I park?” He looks around the vast paved area and lawns.
“Right here is fine,” I say, pointing at a spot to the side. There’s a little sports car in one of the bays. I wonder briefly if my mom is going through a midlife crisis. Maybe it’s m
y dad’s. I bite down on my lip because the thought is comical.
My parents are standing together. They look the same as when I last saw them. My mom’s hair might be slightly shorter than before. She’s wearing her usual – a blouse and slacks. There is a double-strand of pearls around her neck. My father is in chinos and a button-down shirt. They are both smiling, but not overjoyed. They don’t look like people who haven’t seen their daughter in over a year. There is no frantic waving or rushing forward to greet me. Showing too much emotion is in bad taste.
“Ready?” Night asks. He must sense my apprehension.
I nod once. “I guess so.”
I open the door, but before I can get out of the car, Night is there and helping me out.
“Sweetie!” I hear my mother call. Her voice sounds animated but restrained. “How wonderful to see you.” She still hasn’t left my father’s side.
Night winks at me as he takes my hand. They are going to hate him. He’s made his own money. He’s rough around the edges. He has tattoos. Yep…they’re going to disapprove. More than anything, this is already getting my back up, even though they haven’t actually met yet.
“Hello,” my mom says again as we reach them. I notice how my dad’s eyes narrow as they land on Night. His jaw tightens. My mom leans forward. She clasps my arms lightly and kisses me on the cheek. “You’re looking…good,” she murmurs as she pulls back, giving me the once-over. I can see she doesn’t fully approve. I’m not perfectly coifed and styled. I still spend plenty of time at the shelter, so my nails are short and unpainted.
Under my mother’s scrutiny, I feel thankful for the fact that I went to the hairdresser a couple of days ago, although I know I still don’t live up to her standards. I couldn’t highlight my hair because it’s not safe for the baby right now. I’m what my mother used to call a ‘washed out’ blonde. She always insisted I highlight my hair.
Sorry, mom!
Then there’s my clothing. It isn’t ‘designer’. My shoes are ‘off the rack’. Her eyes narrow for a moment, and distaste flits across her face. She definitely doesn’t approve of my shoes.
Sorry, not sorry, mom!
I pull my shoulders back. I lift my chin.
“Hello, Shannon,” my father interjects. “I’m so glad that little ‘hit and run’ business was finally sorted out.” Wow! That was quick.
I ignore the remark. “This is Edward Night. We’re living together.” I decide to launch right in as well. “And it’s good to see you. It’s been over a year.”
“Has it really been that long?” My father frowns.
“Living together? Oh…” My mother’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “Well, I guess things have been…hard for you.” She’s trying to come up with excuses as to why I would live with a man without being married to him. They are seriously ‘old school’. “You must move back to the estate. It’s not the same without you here.”
Like hell!
It’s exactly the same.
“Don’t you agree, darling?” My mother nudges my father.
He nods a couple of times and makes a sound of agreement. He doesn’t look like he relishes the idea of me moving back home. “Of course,” he finally says when my mother nudges him again.
“Night, this is my mother, Barbara, and my father, Everett,” I say, by way of introduction.
“Lovely to meet you both.” Night smiles at my mom. His dimples pop out, and she immediately approves. She can’t help herself.
Her eyes widen, and she goes into full-on charm mode. “Oh…oh yes… Good to meet you.” She smiles far wider than when she saw me a few moments ago. She takes his hand. “Wow! You are strong, Edward.” She’s looking at his biceps and broad shoulders. Night is wearing a powder blue golf shirt that accentuates his fantastic build.
“Night… Is that your surname?” my father asks, looking like he disapproves.
“Yes, that’s right,” Night responds. “My first name is Edward, but everyone calls me Night.”
“It suits you.” My mom giggles. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her giggle in my entire life. She plays with a strand of pearls.
“Is it Night with a K or without?” my father continues to probe, his voice no-nonsense. It’s almost like he’s cross-examining a witness or something.
“It doesn’t matter, daddy,” I jump in, getting irritated. “Can we please just enjoy the afternoon?”
“I was just wondering. Heritage is important.” My dad wants to check up on Night. He’s going to pull some strings and get information on him…or try.
“What do you do…um…er…Night? I take it you’re a part of the family business?” He attempts a smile, it looks pained. “You’re in line to take over, perhaps?” He lifts his brows.
“No.” Night shakes his head. “My father is nowhere near ready to retire. I doubt he’ll step aside any time soon.”
“Oh…” My dad perks up. Night didn’t dispel the idea of there being a family business. “What is your family business?”
“I don’t work with my father, although he’s constantly trying to get me to be a part of his work.”
“Why ever not?” My dad narrows his eyes.
Night makes a face. “It entails dealing with dead people. Not my thing!”
“Oh, how terrible!” My mother sounds appalled.
I’ve noticed how Night doesn’t like to lie. He sticks as close to the truth as he can at all times.
The look on my father’s face makes me want to laugh. “Funeral homes,” I say. “Night’s family owns a string of them.”
“Interesting,” my dad muses. “It’s big business, then?” He looks skeptical.
“Yes, it is,” I say, getting irritated. “People die all the time. If there’s one thing that’s sure in this life, it’s that we’re all going to kick the bucket sooner or later.”
“I suppose that’s true,” my dad grudgingly admits. “So, they own…what…a couple of funeral homes across the state?” My dad has already started judging Night, just as I knew he would.
“More than a couple and more than just across the state.” I can’t help myself. There was a time not so long ago that Night defended me in much the same way. It’s my turn to defend him.
“Across the country?” He gives a little shake of his head and makes a small sound like it’s still not enough to satisfy him.
“They’re an international concern.” It’s true! The Underworld is for everyone. Hades doesn’t discriminate.
“Let’s stop this,” my mom intervenes. “We can sit and have an iced tea. Let’s go out back. I’ve asked Patricia to serve us luncheon on the patio.”
My mom has to almost force my father to turn around. Dear old dad just spotted Night’s tattoos. It took longer than I expected. Now that he’s seen them, he wants to stare. His face is turning red. “Everett, dear…let’s go out back.” She pulls on his arm, and he finally allows himself to be led.
“Luncheon?” Night mouths at me.
I roll my eyes. It’s going to be a long afternoon. Then Night grins at me, and I can’t help but grin back. It’ll be bearable with Night at my side. As long as my dad isn’t too rude, I’ll cope.
“He has tattoos,” my father whispers to my mom, who shushes him. “But…Barb, he has—”
“We’ll talk later.” My mom is all about appearances.
Night slows down a few times as we walk through the entrance and living room. He’s taking it all in. My parents’ home is opulent. There is a large arrangement of flowers on a round table in the foyer. It is changed weekly. The staircase is made from marble, with an ornate brass banister. The artwork is authentic, as are the antique pieces dotted around the entrance and living room. Many of them have been in my family for generations. The fireplace is enormous. It has a solid oak mantle with a painting of my parents above it.
“This way,” my mother says. “Patricia should—”
A dog barks. I would recognize that bark from a mile away. “Cody!” I yell
. Then I see him running across the back yard. His ears are pricked up. His tongue is lolling. “Cody!” I yell again, even though my mother gives me a dirty look over her shoulder.
“Not in the house,” she warns. “Shannon! Not in—”
Cody bounds into the living room. His tail is wagging hard. His whole body curls around me when I bend down to stroke him. His fur is soft and glossy. “I missed you, boy.”
Night
Shannon lights up as the big Pointer rubs up against her. He is making soft, whining noises. “I think he might have missed you as well,” I say.
Shannon looks up at me, smiling. I can see that there are tears in her eyes. “Oh, my boy…” She keeps rubbing his neck and around his ears.
“Out…out you…dog!” Barbara flaps her hands. “You know I don’t like him in the house. He sheds and chews things.”
“It was just that once,” Shannon replies. “One shoe…one time. Unless he’s chewed something else since I’ve been gone.”
“It’s not hygienic,” Barbara goes on. “Next thing, he’ll track mud inside.”
“You have three housekeepers,” Shannon pushes back.
“That isn’t—” her mother starts, but Shannon interrupts.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re going to take Cody home with us when we go. He’s my dog, and I’d like him back, please. You won’t have to worry about mud or hair or any of those things.” She keeps rubbing his head. Cody laps it up.
As if in response, he whines and licks her hand. The dog agrees. We’ve discussed it, and I also agree. I give Cody a stroke. He turns and licks my hand too. Maybe we can share him since Fleur is mostly Shannon’s dog. I have a feeling that won’t change anytime soon. I understand why the German Shepherd is besotted, I really do. Shannon is…she’s everything.
Her mother gives her a disapproving look. “I think you should move back home, at least until the wedding.”
“What wedding?” Shannon counters. I know she is standing up to her mother, but it still stings hearing her say those words. I need to rectify that particular situation as a matter of extreme urgency.
Little Lords (The Dragon Demigods Book 3) Page 5