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“That’s my girl.” Thea smiles.
Xander shakes his head. “God help me if it’s another girl.”
“Another little niece or nephew. Sounds fun.” Cade grins and stretches his arm behind Rae’s chair. “Babe, I think we’re falling behind these guys. We better get busy.”
She laughs. “Not yet. But I am excited to have so many little babies running around. This is going to be fun.”
“Oh, come on,” Thea eggs, “you have to start popping out babies to compete with the rest of us, and this way all our kids can be best friends. Xael will be the leader of the group, obviously, I mean she came from my loins and she’ll be the oldest.”
Jace snorts beside me and Thea narrows her eyes.
“Do you have something to say, Jacen?”
He suppresses a laugh. “Not at all.”
“Sure.” Thea rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, sorry,” Rae begins, but she doesn’t sound sorry at all, “but we’ve only been married a year. I want to enjoy married life a little while longer.”
“You suck.” Thea sticks her tongue out.
I take a bite of lasagna and my stomach rolls. I push the plate away and Jace looks at me questioningly.
“Is something wrong?” Thea asks. “I swear I followed the directions exactly—except with Jace’s piece, I don’t think dropping it on the floor and letting the dog lick it was part of the directions.”
Jace glares at her. “You didn’t.”
“Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I did. You’ll never know.”
This time it’s Jace who shoves his plate away.
“No, it’s not your fault,” I hasten to tell her. “Food is making me nauseous.”
“Ugh, I know your pain. That’s how it was with Xael. So far this baby is treating me kinder. Knock on wood.” She raps her knuckles against the dining room table.
The rest of the dinner goes smoothly—even if neither Jace nor I eat. Afterward, he swings by a McDonald’s and gets himself a burger and fries. I turn down his offer to get me something, feeling sick at the thought of the greasy food.
We get home and, knowing I need to eat something, I eat a piece of toast with butter.
Jace leans against the counter, watching me eat with a frown. “I hate seeing you sick.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him, smiling. “It’ll be worth it when we have our baby in the end.”
“Did you get this sick with Greyson?” he inquires.
I shake my head and take another bite of toast. “Initially yes, but not this far into the pregnancy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, seriously. A little sickness is worth our baby.”
He pulls out the stool beside me and sits down. “You’re a fucking warrior.”
I laugh, spraying some toast crumbs on the counter. “Hardly.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t see what I see.”
“And what’s that?”
