“What?” he murmured into my hair, his lips making me tingle.
“Wait.”
I counted in my head as we waited, and when I got to nine, there was a very distinct, but not very sharp thud against our hands. I grinned and felt Nico stiffen behind me.
“Was that what I think it was?” he asked, barely breathing.
I nodded and bit back a squeal when it happened again.
“Non ci credo!” he exclaimed, turning me onto my back and pressing both hands against me, his face alight with a little boy energy, his hair in complete disarray. “Come on, bambino. Do it again for Papa.”
I could have cried at his tender pleading, but I also just wanted to laugh.
Our baby was destined to be the most perfect and obedient child on the planet, because there were two rapid fire thumps against Nico’s hands right away.
He grinned wildly and bent down to kiss my belly, then wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my bump. He exhaled heavily, relief and delight oozing off of him.
I ran my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of him, the emotion he’d shown, and the obvious excitement, which I was starting to feel almost all the time but hadn’t seen him display. He had always been overly concerned about me, nurturing and sweet, filled with a sense of pride and joy, and sometimes awe. But excitement? Never.
Now I knew, and hormones were telling me to cry, and to cry hard and long and with lots of hiccups.
Nico rested his chin on the bump and smiled at me, slow and sensual and loving and I turned to Jell-O right there on the bed. “Bella amore,” he whispered. “Cuore mio… Ti amo tantissimo.”
That much Italian I knew. I blinked back the annoying tears that had started, but they just rolled down my cheeks and into my pillow. “I know,” I managed to reply with a sniff.
Nico crawled up towards me and kissed my tears, which only brought on more. “No more tears, bella,” he murmured against my skin. “Ti amo.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a slow kiss, tears and all. “I love you, too.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The Third Trimester
“And in other news, the royal dads are actually going to be here for dinner tonight!”
I grinned and tossed the remote at Lemon, who was still shaking her head at the news update on the Battle of the Babies, which had taken on a life of its own. Daddy Edition was in higher demand than the news about each of us, which allowed us some down time, and we loved every minute of it. It was annoying that Nico and Dante were busier than usual, considering now they had appearances, talk shows, and interviews with media outlets from all over the world, but as things were winding down for us, per doctor’s orders, it was fun to see them in the spotlight for a change.
And, according to Lemon’s reports, it was working.
Monterra had been the most talked about place for months now and our tourism was up, which made everybody happy. Lemon and I were still pretty popular, don’t get me wrong, but when the king of Monterra could outscore his younger brother on “Daddy, Did You Know?” on the Today show, things had gotten pretty fun around here. In fact, Nico was dominating in every single aspect.
Too bad I wasn’t.
Lemon was still beating me in the actual Battle of the Babies, in the categories of fashion and fitness and in popularity polls, but I had her in Mom-on-the-Go and I had the most Internet searches.
I might have put in half of those searches myself.
But tonight, our husbands were definitely going to be here, and we needed them.
The food was too far away and the servants were busy.
We were huge and we were lazy, and we decided that was enough. Well, I was huge, anyway. I had popped at twenty-five weeks, and Lemon had already popped by then, but for some reason I looked way further along than she did. Lemon looked like that woman in a magazine who gives you unrealistic expectations of pregnancy.
I was swelling up everywhere, quite literally, and she was just perfect.
I hated her.
Except for the fact that she was always eating pork rinds. That made me happy, and it might have been the only sign of pregnancy craziness I had seen from her. She wasn’t crying about anything and she was walking with the same swivel to her hips she always had. She was still doing yoga with me, and she was way better.
She really was beating me in Battle of the Babies, but caring about that took way more energy than I was willing to give.
Lemon switched off the TV and gave me a smile. “Ready for the party? I think we can make our grand entrance now.”
I groaned but awkwardly made my way to my feet. “Guess so. There’s food and presents, so we might as well, right?”
She snorted. “Dang straight. I wouldn’t go otherwise; I need a nap.”
I laughed and gave her a hand, pulling her up. “Please, you’re like Perfect Pregnancy Barbie. I can barely stand to look at you.”
Lemon gave me a look of surprise that had me rearing back. “You crazy, Kat? I’m wearing a watermelon.”
We made our way out into the hall and started down the too-grand staircase. “Yeah, and it’s a petite watermelon, and you’re tiny everywhere else. Your curves still look amazing, your complexion is clear, I’m pretty sure your bra size hasn’t changed, and you still have energy that makes me look like a turtle. Honestly, do your hips even ache?”
She stopped me on the stairs and raised a brow. “Every single day. I lay down with about seven pillows propped everywhere that hurts and nap for an hour every day. And you may not see what’s going on in this body, honey, but it ain’t perfect. Know what I have? Backne. And hemorrhoids. And a squirmy invader who tap dances on my bladder so much that I’m afraid to laugh ever. And the complexion isn’t that perfect, Trina just knows how to cover it up for me. Honestly, I’m shocked Dante still likes to look at me.”
I wasn’t, because despite what she was telling me, she was gorgeous. She actually glowed, just like people said pregnant women do. I settled for a snort though. “Dante can’t keep his hands off of you.”
That made her smile softly, warmly, and it made me want Nico badly. “Yeah, my baby loves me. He says he likes me like this. Proof of his own virility and masculine superiority or some such nonsense.” She rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, taking my hand. “Come on, Majesty. Time to party with the babies.”
We headed downstairs to the formal sitting room and I needed a moment to take it all in. The crew the girls had hired for this had done an incredible job. It was every bit the overdone Pinterest baby shower picture I could have expected and so much more. Violetta had come up with the idea of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” as the theme, and it was suddenly the most adorable thing I had ever seen. Stars and glittering streamers hung from corners and draped across the ceiling, banners and balloons and favors dotted tables with more stars and shimmering table runners, and the long table with elegant and amazing looking food on it could have been a spread for a magazine, but somehow more perfect. I could swear I heard the tinkling sound of a lullaby from a music box as I looked around.
A baby shower at a palace with creative princesses planning it and endless resources at hand? I was so in favor of that.
The room was filled with people, talking amongst themselves happily. It looked like a lot, but not enough to be crowded, which I was grateful for. My size was beginning to make me a bit self-conscious, and I was well aware it was only going to get worse.
My mom was here, chatting with Sue Ellen, which made me nervous. Mom and I had mended fences and had a decent relationship, but Sue Ellen was one of the most terrifying women ever, and I hardly needed her to get any ideas. I was already fielding almost daily emails from Sue Ellen about pregnancy and articles she had found, things she’d seen on Pinterest, watched on The Doctors, or had been told in her book club. If I actually took the time to read them all, I would either be a baby expert myself or completely crazy.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to b
e either.
Lemon and I paused for the photographer she’d brought in for the joint shower, smiled our public smiles, and then entered the room completely.
Violetta saw us first and beamed. “Here they are!”
Applause filled the room and I laughed, because what else could I do? No one should applaud for me when I wasn’t on queen duty, I wasn’t exactly a sight to be seen these days. I was barely starting on the waddle-walk, and I still had eleven weeks, at least. Lemon had five, and her walk was just fine.
I was pretty sure she had lied to me on the stairs just because she felt bad, but I’d probably never know for sure.
Then again, Lemon never lied.
Chiara and Serafina pulled us further into the room and were chattering excitedly about the décor and the food, and my eyes caught sight of a display on one of the tables. There were two of them side by side and they were practically identical, except for details that only a few of us would know.
It was all of the sonogram photos from the pregnancy so far. One for Lemon and one for me. I stared at the display, marveling at the proof of my baby’s growth and development. From a blob to a slightly human-like shape to distinctly human to waving tiny fingers and a profile starring Nico’s brow and nose… I gently rubbed my sweet bump, forgetting that I was fat and swollen, and just felt for my baby. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes and I had to swallow a few times.
My baby was there.
My baby was here.
Holy crap, I was really having a baby.
“Oh, isn’t this sweet?” Lemon gushed, coming up beside me and looking at her display. She reached out and touched the sonograms, smiling softly. “Hi, precious,” she whispered, tilting her head fondly. She turned and looked at me. “They look alike. It’s like they’re related or something.”
I laughed and so did the rest of the room. I turned and saw Caitlin sitting on a sofa with her daughter Elizabeth, born just a few months ago, and she grinned at me and waved. I waved back and let the girls pull me back to my designated chair so the party could get underway.
I wasn’t generally a fan of being the cause of a party, but this one I could get used to.
Later, after the surprisingly fun games and incredibly generous presents, I found myself sitting next to my mom, who was holding Princess Elizabeth in her arms, and looked so content it was almost shocking.
“I remember when you were this little,” Mom said quietly as I propped my feet up.
I smiled a little. “I doubt I was as perfectly behaved as she seems to be.”
Mom smiled, still not looking at me. “No,” she admitted, “but you were perfect. I don’t remember much from your childhood, but I remember that.”
A lump suddenly formed in my throat and I couldn’t speak for a moment. “What do you remember, Mom?”
She looked up at me, and I caught the flash of pain and remorse, and I wished I hadn’t asked. We’d been pretty careful about not hashing out the past, both of us preferring to leave it where it was. She’d apologized a few times, and I believed her, but forgetting was harder than forgiving.
Then Mom’s expression cleared and she smiled. “I remember very distinctly that you were late.”
I barked a surprised laugh that made the baby jump. “I was?”
She nodded, running a finger along Elizabeth’s plump cheek. “Very. I was so miserable.”
“Sorry,” I quipped with a cheeky grin, not feeling sorry at all. “What else?”
Her brow furrowed a little in thought. “I started liking mustard. I had hated mustard my entire life, but when I was pregnant with you I suddenly liked it. And my sex drive was gone. Absolutely tanked, nothing about it could possibly interest me. Your dad was pretty upset about that.”
I laughed my surprise and Lemon, her mom, and Aria looked over at us, then moved to join us.
“What are we laughing about, ladies?” Sue Ellen asked as she sat next to Mom and gestured for the sleeping princess.
Mom handed her over with an easy grin. “She was asking me what I remembered about being pregnant with her.”
“Oh, lord,” Sue Ellen groaned with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “With Lemon, it was ice. I could have eaten Antarctica with all of the ice I was chewing.”
“That explains my warm heart,” Lemon chirped as she sank onto the sofa and matched my pose.
I snorted and her mom smirked.
“Cheese,” Aria said with a wrinkle of her nose. “With all of my babies, every single one, I wanted cheese from beginning to end. I became quite the cheese expert.” She shuddered a little. “I can barely tolerate it now.”
Mom grinned at my mother-in-law. “I couldn’t stand the spit in my mouth. Excess saliva was just disgusting; I was so nauseous if I swallowed it.”
I cocked my head a little. “How did you work around that?”
She gave me a sidelong look. “I got really good at spitting. Sinks and on the ground and I carried around a spit cup the rest of the time. So gross.”
I made a face as the rest of the group groaned, shaking their heads.
“I stopped liking chocolate,” Aria said on a sad sigh, as if the memory still pained her.
I winced at that. Chocolate was my best friend these days.
“I craved orange,” Sue Ellen announced with a devious smile.
Lemon looked at her mom like she was nuts. “Orange? Like… orange flavors?”
She shook her head. “No, like orange-colored foods. Carrots, Crush soda, nacho cheese Doritos, pumpkin… just orange!”
That was certainly the most bizarre thing I had ever heard, even with all my Pinterest searches. Lemon and I shared a bewildered look. Maybe we were pretty normal after all.
“That and my ankles swelled up like hot air balloons,” Sue Ellen went on with a shake of her head. “I had to buy all new shoes because I couldn’t fit in mine anymore.”
“What a shame,” Mom commented dryly.
“Such a pity,” Aria agreed with a somber nod.
We waited just a moment, then all burst out laughing. It was the most bizarre thing, laughing with my mom and my friends, as if all of us had been friends for years. Totally bizarre, but it felt really good. Like warm-fuzzy-make-me-cry good.
I looked over at my mom and she was smiling at me, and I knew she felt it too.
The baby started thumping hard against me and I covered the spot with one hand, still laughing a bit breathlessly.
“Baby likes us laughing,” I said to no one in particular, smiling at Lemon.
Lemon beamed. “Mine, too.” Then she winced. “A little too much.”
I saw my mom watching me with something that looked a lot like longing, and a hint of regret.
The baby was apparently doing a dance routine, so I reached over and took her hand, placing it right where the kicking was.
I watched her face carefully, catching her faint inhale, the widening of her eyes, and the shimmer of tears that appeared. “Hi, Baby,” she whispered, almost too softly for me to hear.
I covered her hand with mine and looked down at them. “This is your grandma, sweetheart,” I told my baby. “She’s pretty great, you’ll like her a lot.”
Mom looked at me and her eyes were positively swimming in tears. We shared a smile and then the baby kicked harder than ever and we both laughed.
I looked over at Aria, who was watching us with a soft smile, and I felt her pleasure at the sight. She knew everything about my mom’s situation, made even more personal for what had happened with Violetta, and she knew very well that Mom and I weren’t close. Yet.
If this woman next to me was my mom, we could certainly get there.
Aria winked at me and I smiled back, loving her just as much as if she were my mother.
How did a girl get this lucky?
“Kat!” Serafina called from across the room. “You need to wear your shirts! Caitlin says so!”
Lemon scoffed and reached for hers. “Well, if Caitlin says…”
&nb
sp; Caitlin beamed as she brought me mine. “I do. And by the way, Kat, Alex says he’s waiting for his special invitation to be a godfather. He wants gold detailing and something that says he is the preferred one.” She shook her head, but her eyes twinkled.
I made a face and stuck my head through my t-shirt. “Alex can make his own gold invitation, I’m a little busy growing the future ruler of Monterra here.”
Caitlin snickered and somehow managed to sit down next to Lemon with all of the grace and poise and perfection of the royalty she was.
“Oh, aren’t those precious?” Sue Ellen gushed as she looked at Lemon and I. “Go stand over there so we can take a picture.”
We grumbled good-naturedly and hauled ourselves up. Violetta had had matching shirts made for us, adored with shimmery gold stars on our bellies and “Twinkle, twinkle, little star” written in a fun gold script across the top. Mine was in Italian, however, and I loved that. “Brilla, brilla, piccola stella” was just about the cutest thing ever, and I couldn’t wait to show Nico.
We posed for everybody, since literally the whole room wanted one, and the event photographer took a few as well.
That photo almost broke the Internet, was on every magazine cover in the grocery stores (Sue Ellen told us, and bought two of each to send to us), and Battle of the Babies was yet again roaring with a vengeance.
The most bizarre thing ever started happening a few days after the baby shower.
I had to clean.
More than that, I wanted to clean. It was as bad as a food craving and twice as satisfying because instead of shoving a Nutella sandwich in my mouth, I was being ridiculously productive and getting things done. It was an adrenaline rush unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life
And I couldn’t stop.
It started off simply enough, I was just going through the baby shower gifts in the nursery. Cataloguing who gave what, where it came from, what we still needed before the baby came… Pretty innocent stuff.
Before I knew what was happening, I was organizing everything in that room. Disposable diapers were coordinated by size, design, and brand and neatly stacked in the corner by the changing table. The Boppy was over with the nursing covers, pump, bottles, and formula. Clothing was opened from all packages and anything that needed to be washed was put into a pile. Anything that had already been washed had been sitting there for a little bit, so it all needed to be washed too. And the blankets. And the burp cloths. And the sheets for the crib. And the nursing covers that I’d set by the pump.
The Royals of Monterra: Royal Delivery (Kindle Worlds) Page 7