His Mafia Prince

(TYLER)

I’m seated beside Wesley at the dinner table. Lucia is seated across from us, her hair curled into a loose bun. We just had herb crusted salmon with roasted vegetables, a meal that I very much enjoyed. We have pushed our empty plates aside in favour of teaming cups of chamomile tea.

I notice how Wesley’s hand drifts to his slightly rounded belly for the third time this evening. A little smile tugs at the corners of my lips. I can’t help but be happy for him. The knowing smile on Lucia’s face tells me that she noticed the gesture too. She had watched me go through this journey and was there with me every step of the way, and here is Jericho’s omega again, carrying the next generation of the Adonis family.

"You keep touching your belly like that." She observes warmly, lifting her china teacup to her lips. "I remember when I was pregnant with Sasha and Jericho. I couldn’t keep my hands still either. It’s almost like your body knows that there is something precious in there before your mind fully catches up."

A light shade of pink brushes Wesley’s cheeks. He splats his fingers protectively over his bump. "I catch myself doing it all the time. Jericho sometimes teases me about it, but then when I wake up at night, I find his hands there too."

I notice how his voice softens when he mentions Jericho. His eyes seem to grow with distant affection.

I can’t help responding to the maternal energy in the room, so, I lean forward and say, "at the second trimester I when things switch up, but in a good way. The morning sickness finally lets up, thank God." I shudder dramatically, what earns chuckles from Lucia and Wesley. "I swear I couldn’t even look at coffee during those first three months without constantly running to the bathroom. At some point, Sasha felt so guilty about it that he gave up his morning coffee too."

Wesley laughs. "Jericho does try that with me too, but he doesn’t last six hours before sneaking a coffee cup in the room. But it’s the thought that counts, right?"

Lucia laughs so heartily that it echoes all over the room. "Oh honey, just wait until the cravings hit. One night when I was pregnant with Jericho, I sent his father out there to get me a specific brand of pickles from a store two towns over. Poor man drove for hours only to come back with the wrong kind." She shakes her head at the memory. "I cried for a solid one hour."

"I already have the cravings. I ate a pickle peanut butter sandwich. Weird, right? Jericho made two for me. He forgot and used Jalapeños for the first one. My lips almost fell off." Wesley laughs, stirring his tea. "Now that you said it, I think I’m going to sleep with a jar of olives on my bed stand. I just eat so many weird things without realising it."

"That’s nothing." I say, reaching to pat his hand. "Wait until you start nesting. I drove Sasha crazy. Do you know I rearranged the nursery furniture every day for a week straight? Then I decided the whole colour scheme was wrong. It had to be repainted. Twice."