Chapter Twenty-Two

Ryan

I loved being pregnant. I did. I was one of the lucky ones whose ankles stayed ankle-sized and whose belly was all straight out in the front. I looked adorable in paternity clothes, and everywhere I went, I was told how much I glowed.

But, love it as I did, that didn't mean I wasn't more than ready to have this baby. Right now, my belly reached the door a solid hour before the rest of me. Fine, maybe that was an exaggeration, but I sure felt huge, and, with each day, I was liking being pregnant less and less.

King and I had managed to turn our room and the one next door into one big suite after one of the omegas and their baby found their birth pack and left to live their happily ever after. They had been kidnapped when they were only a toddler, and all they had ever wanted was to get back. They just didn't know how, didn't have enough memory of where they were from, the years of abuse tearing at what little they did have.

And then one day, someone came looking for them. As it turned out, it was their grandfather. They had heard rumors of our good work and risked coming all this way. The omega recognized him immediately and, when he asked to come home with him, they agreed.

I was thrilled for them, and, at first, I refused the room, saying we might need it for someone else. But Sloan had everybody gang up on me, telling me how our family needed it and how this house needed us, and I finally caved. Now that I had, I was beyond excited.

Today was the day everybody was going to have a painting party. I wasn't sure how it was a party, since basically it was all of our friends doing labor for us for free, but they called it that, and I was going with it. I wanted to help but was told that in my "state," it wasn't a good idea. So instead, I took the kids outside for sidewalk chalk on the patio bricks and to blow some bubbles.

When everybody took a break, they came outside, and we all had a picnic—King giving in quickly to their begging for rides on his lion. It was adorable watching his big ferocious beast playing with them like that.

"You got a keeper," Sloan said, bumping my shoulder.

"Yeah, I do, and I plan to do exactly that…keep him." Fortunately for me, he thought I was a keeper too.

"So, tell me, how's the room? How's the painting coming?"

"First coat's done, and the second coat is on in your bedroom and the boys' bedroom. We still need to do the girls' bedroom and the nursery."

As close to done as that sounded, it wasn't, because then we had to move everything back and build the new bunk beds for the kids—the ones they had to have.

Becca said it was good because it meant there was an extra bed in each room where their little brother or sister could join them when it was time. The kids had all gotten over their initial fears that somehow we would love them less when the new baby came, and I was overjoyed to know that we made them feel that secure, that loved.

"After the picnic, I'll stay with the kids while the guys finish upstairs, and you and your mate go out for ice cream."

"Wait, how did you know I wanted ice cream?"

"Tell me one day this month when you haven't wanted ice cream."

I gave him some serious side-eye, but he was right. Our baby was going to come out of me, crying for a hot fudge sundae or cookies and cream or peach—depending on the day. The flavors weren't what mattered. It was the creamy, icy goodness.

Poor King had been out more times than I could count to get me ice cream in the middle of the night because, no matter how many flavors we had here, the baby always wanted something we didn't stock.

"I heard I have a date," King said, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing me sweetly.

"You do. A hot date to the ice cream parlor." The one where they knew us by name.

"They really should have a frequent flyer card," he teased.

"If they did, they'd go broke with us."

He chuckled but didn't correct me because it was probably accurate.

It had been a while since we got to go out together, just us, and it was nice. I loved doing things as a family, but I also loved it when two of us could spend quiet time together—me eating ice cream, and King…well, probably never wanting ice cream again after the bounty we'd been partaking in.

When we arrived back home, the rooms were all painted. The bunks were built but not yet put up against the walls until they dried. Everything was coming together beautifully.

"We're gonna have seven kids soon," I said.

"We are," King replied. "That's kind of a lot."

"It is. It's the good kind of a lot though."

"No." He tapped my nose. "It's not the good kind of a lot. It's the best kind. It's family."

"Our family."