I knew all the clichés about not going to bed mad, but I did. No, mad wasn’t even the right word. I was livid. First my men thought it was a good idea to adopt not only a kitten, but a blind one that still hadn’t been litter trained, but they brought it home when Kai was there, leading to a half-hour lecture on the dangers of cat feces to our unborn child and an additional half-hour lecture on how kittens were unable to clean themselves enough for me to even be handling them.

I’d have called bullshit on it, but then he opened his magical bag of resources to show me all the reasons why you should never get a new cat while pregnant, especially one that was from a shelter. By the time Kai left, I was a guilt-ridden, paranoid omega who just wanted space and the kitten gone. Not that I could take it away after learning it’s freaking sob story and seeing Sam’s tears.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t as long an ordeal as it felt at the time, and Kai did try to sugar his unhappiness in aura and chakra gobbledygook. He even tried to do that touching me but not touching me massage thingy he was sure made all things better. That didn’t change the reason for his disapproval; my future mates forgot to bring their brains with them to the pet store.

No, the day before had been a clusterfuck. I probably overreacted with all the hormones and the Kai-infused guilt. But for now, I was still mad. The poor kitten had been isolated to the sunroom, and everyone had strict instructions to wash and sanitize their hands every time they went in there.

I got out of bed, both Dusty and Richard still asleep. I’d been mad, but not having them in bed with me felt all kinds of wrong, only proving my theory that the pregnancy had turned me certifiably crazy. I padded into the bathroom, starting the shower as another Braxton Hicks hit me. I hated those things. I knew they were practice contractions or whatever, but I was pretty sure whether I practiced or not that my little boy was gonna find his way out, so I was fine with having the no-practice method of pregnancy. Unfortunately, my body didn’t agree.

As the shower steamed up, I took care of my morning needs before climbing inside, the heat doing wonders on my sore back. I squirted out some of Dusty’s shampoo and made quick work of my hair, not bothering with any conditioner. Then I grabbed my washcloth, squirting a bit of Richard’s bodywash on it before cleaning off the remains of the day before. I had my own shampoo and soap, but for some reason, I needed to smell like them, even if only superficially, their natural scent not something anyone could replicate.

As I toweled off, I sighed. The last thing I wanted to do was to people. I wanted to stay home, make sure the nursery was in order, which it was, and read a good book. Walking hurt. Standing hurt. Sitting hurt. I was the equivalent of a little old man thanks to the ginormous being in my middle. Sure, Kai had predicted the baby would be around seven pounds, but there was no freaking way. The kid was ten pounds if he was an ounce. Both my bladder and back could attest to that. Plus, I was grouchy as could be. Staying home would be ideal, but we had the stupid-ass shower.

I just didn’t get the shower thing. If I’d still been single without a pot to piss in, sure, it would’ve been a nice way to know my baby would have all the necessities. That wasn’t the case, though. This baby was already spoiled beyond measure, in need of no things. Between Richard using all the internet’s must have lists as actual shopping lists and Dusty spending too much money on internet purchases, I doubted we would need a thing for him before his first birthday. Except, of course, a name, but we still had time for that. Or so I kept telling myself.

At least the shower was at Pete’s. I hadn’t seen Larry in a month, and he was the closest thing I had to a friend before the whole surrogacy thing. Mrs. Jones was a close second.

I made the guys promise to keep it small. Not that they ever did anything half-assed. But the last thing any guy about ready to birth a baby needed was to be in a crowded room with a bunch of people all loud and asking questions. At least there would be cake. I liked cake.

“You okay?” Richard called, cracking the door open just enough for the sound to carry.

“I’m fine, Richard. Almost done.” I pulled on my new robe after having outgrown my favorite one. One size fits all was such a lie. It only fit if you were cool with your belly hanging out.

“Sorry I took so long,” I mumbled as I grabbed clothes for the day. “The hot water felt so good I just kind of hung out in there and let it soothe my back.”

It had helped, too. Which was great since I was going to be on my feet more than normal. At least I didn’t have a Kai appointment first. He always wore me out with his intensity, even if his intention was to be the exact opposite, the master of chill.

“Still mad about last night?” Dusty asked as I pulled on my boxers. Or mostly pulled them on; the waistband settled below my belly, the days of wearing them correctly long gone.

“I don’t know, Dusty.” I was in an all-around bad mood and moody as shit, but I couldn’t tell how much of that was directly kitten related and how much was because I was super pregnant, had a very emotional day the day before, and knowing I was expected to be all sunshine and roses so people could celebrate our coming child when all I wanted to celebrate was a nap.

“It was a pretty crap thing to do. Mostly I think I’m just overdone with being pregnant and an all-around grumpalupagus. At least you brought home a cat, while completely irresponsible and inappropriate, given my pregnancy, far less needy than a puppy. If you had done that, blood would’ve—” Instantly, Dusty’s face filled with guilt at my words. Crap on a cracker, there was a dog, too. “Fuck me. You got a puppy, too?”

“He’s so adorable.” He flinched, as he should. A kitten and a puppy. Did no one in the family have any sense left? “All big ears and cuteness.”

“You both had a change of heart on this whole baby thing and want me good and dead before he arrives.” I was so being a queen, but screw it. At least in this case, I was in the right. “That’s it, right? You’re trying to kill me. What in tarnation are we going to do with a puppy?”

“Love it?” Richard answered sheepishly, and I rewarded him with my evil eye. I wasn’t surprised at all that Dusty would spontaneously come home with something furry and loveable, but Richard? Richard, I was shocked by. He was the think-it-through guy.

“You do know cats are assholes, right?” They were cute little balls of fur, sure, but assholes to boot.

“Not all of them,” was all Richard could come up with in response.

“Yes, all of them. And puppies require more work than a baby, who will be here any day now.” Maybe that was it. Maybe the baby coming had me in panic mode turning me into the shrew. Not that that made them any less disrespectful and inconsiderate. It did, however, mean I needed to tamp it down.

“So you’re still mad?” Richard came and sat down on the bed beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as I sat there wearing only my boxers and a too-small robe. I looked like someone who walked off the set of a sitcom.

“Flustered is more the word, I think,” I sighed, leaning into him. “Just get me bacon. I’m sure bacon will make it better.”

Dusty perked up at that. He wanted to fix it and hearing an opportunity to do so took away some of the stress I was hurling at him.

“Are you sure, pumpkin?” His words were honest, but the heartbreak that saying no would cause was evident in his eyes. Fuck. I had a dog. “We can take it back.”

“Really?” I laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging on it as a less-than-subtle hint to join me and Richard in our sideways snuggle. “And how many decades will I have Sam mad at me over that one? No thanks. Just bring me a shit ton of bacon and swear to me no living things will ever come to this house without all three of us agreeing on it.”

“Agreed,” they vowed just as the baby’s little foot decided to stretch out, forming an imprint on my belly. The first time it happened, I freaked out. The second time, I was in awe. This time I was kicking myself for not having a camera ready.

“Whoa. That’s his foot.” Dusty reached out tentatively with his hand as if he’d ruin the moment. The little guy was doing his morning stretches and there was no room left so out his foot popped.

“It is. He’s kicking your ass out of here to get me bacon.” I raised an eyebrow at my joke before my stomach growled in agreement.

“As you wish.” Rich nodded my way before heading downstairs and making three pounds of bacon. I think he meant his apology, and even though there was some left over, it was not a ton. Between Sam and I, we ate more than a pound. She was a growing kid and I was growing a human so it seemed about right.

She spent the entire breakfast talking on and on about her kitten and what we should name her and if she could sleep in her room once the baby came. None of us had the heart to tell her that unlike the puppy, which we’d decided to pretend was a secret for Sam’s sake, that cats couldn’t be trained to sleep where you wanted, or anything else for that matter. They did what they wanted and, from my experience, found the person who liked them least and stuck to them like velcro. It was some kind of cat law, I was pretty sure.

By the time we headed out to the shower, things were all but smoothed over. The big thing was that they all, Sam included, vowed to never bring a living thing into the home without consulting all of us, including a darn plant. Maybe there would be a time when we wanted to turn the entire home into a menagerie of wayward animals. That time was not now.

We pulled into Pete’s a little before eleven. Sundays he didn’t open until three, clinging to the old blue laws pertaining to alcohol. Which, in this case, was perfect. We could have our little get-together and be cleaned up and out before his opening crew got there at two. Not that there was much to do to open the place. Stocking was always done at close, and his food menu consisted of fries, cheese fries, and a variety of other throw them in the fryolator snacks. The biggest prep in the kitchen was to turn those bad boys on and make sure there was a can of cheese sauce in the warmer.

There were five cars in the lot, which seemed about right. As far as I knew, Larry, Mrs. St. John, Mrs. Jones, Kai, and possibly a few guys from both Pete’s and the coffee shop were coming, that was about it. Before I met Richard and Dusty, I’d been all work, no play, making fostering friendships nearly impossible, and most of my friends from before the accident had finished school and moved away. Not that your beer-drinking buddies hung around when you inherited a toddler.

After I met the guys, life quickly began to circulate around building our family, making sure Sam was able to thrive in her new environment, and growing our new family member which was remarkably harder than I’d imagined it would be. I’d believed the myth that you throw up a couple of mornings, glow, and then boom, baby. It had been very much not that. Not that I’d change a second.

I planned to be a nurse before Sam became my responsibility. Which I might look into again in the future—far into the future after any children we had were in school. I wanted something of my own, like a career eventually, but for now I wanted to enjoy every second of parenthood. I saw how quickly things can change in an instant, and this time was too precious to waste.

“You coming, Siah?” Sam tugged on my sleeve, bringing me out of my head and back into the parking lot. I’d been doing that a lot lately, spacing out, that was, and Kai promised me it was par for the course.

“I am. Looking forward to it,” I lied. But cake. So, half lied?

We climbed out of the car slowly making our way across the lot, trying to avoid the mini-potholes that made up the space.

The door was labeled “Closed for a private function opening at four”.

“Four?” I asked to no one in particular.

“Pete asked us how long it would be and we guessed.” I snorted at Dusty’s inability to remember Pete didn’t actually exist.

“Larry. There is no Pete,” I reminded, still staring at the sign on the door. He wouldn’t lose a ton of customers, but some. At least it was Sunday, the slow night of the week.

“Larry, then.” Dusty rolled his eyes before leaning in and kissing my cheek.

“Showers are cake and punch and opening gifts and possibly a silly game. There is no way that will take so long.”

Or so I thought based on the movies I’d seen and my desire to get back home and in bed. I was super tired for some reason, the most likely culprit the stress of the pet fiasco.

“Then he can open up early. He was the one who added a couple hours to the end. He’s a good guy.” Richard was spot-on about that. Larry was one of the best. When I first met him, I kind of hoped we’d click as more than friends because a guy could do hella worse than Larry. We never did, which worked out for the best because it turned out I had not one, but two amazing alphas waiting for me.

“He really is,” I agreed. “When I was pregnant the first time and too sick to work one night, he slipped me a twenty, pretending it was a tip. We both knew it wasn’t, but he understood my need to not feel like a charity case.”

“Shall we?” Sam asked finally ready to stop the “‘boring adult conversation”‘ we were having in front as we stalled our arrival.

“We shall,” Richard said as he pulled open the door for us.

The bar was far brighter than I had ever seen it, lights I’d never knew worked, turned on. It was the first time I even realized the walls were a pale blue and not dirty white as I’d assumed for all those years.

The counter to the actual bar had a mini-buffet set up with some fruit, sandwiches, and a variety of salads. Streamers draped underneath in a very handmade, I had no idea what I was doing way. I loved it.

“Hey, Pete.” I walked up to him where he was setting down pitchers of soda and rolling his eyes. That joke never got old when it was, in fact, a joke. As a mistake when people came into the bar looking for Pete and not believing you, very much less funny.

“Put on a few pounds since you became a man of leisure?” He looked directly at my belly, his face beaming.

“Yeah, it’s their grill. I can have steak all year long. All steak all the time.”

“A couple of the guys ran to get the cake. The bakery didn’t open until noon today and no one wants an old cake.”

“True story. Anyone else here?” I’d counted more cars than people, but the room was oddly vacant.

“Abram is in the back doing inventoryl—end of the month you know, but that’s it. I told people twelve thirty thinking that’ you’d not want to be bombarded the second you walked through the door.”

My shoulders fell in relief. If I had to people this insanely amount pregnant, easing into it slowly was beyond ideal.”

“You know our pumpkin so well.” Dustin wrapped his arms around me from behind. Or mostly around me. “Thank you for that.”

Richard nodded, indicating he, too, felt the same.

“Anytime. Something to drink? Juice?” Larry whipped out his notepad and paper as if he ever used one for anything other than giving some guy his number.

“Yes please.” Sam jumped all over that. “Apple. And get my brother some water, no ice. He needs to stay hydrated and keep his temperature regulation.”

She’d been spending far too much time listening to Kai. While he had some amazing ideas and was doing a great job leading me through an extremely healthy second half of my pregnancy, the guy was pretty bonkers. Not that I’d ever admit that to the guys. They would be just as happy with me going to the hospital and allowing the nurses to do their thing. Of course, they weren’t the one having to push out a ten-pound baby, for this guy had to be that if he were an ounce.

I mouthed, “with ice” over my shoulder to Larry. I had done amazingly well not eating deli foods, avoiding honey, and even switched to nitrate-free bacon, but a guy has to draw a line somewhere and for me it was tepid water. Shit I’d even avoided hanging out with the kitten. Sure, I had been pissed how he got there, but I was human and it was the cutest little bugger on the planet. Nope. I’d been very good the entire pregnancy; I was having ice water.

I sat down at what we joked was the VIP booth, the only VIP part being that it was a little bit wider than the others. In most restaurants I had to sit at tables now, but there was something nice about a booth, and I leaned back, my two mates across from me and my Sam checking out the pool table, waiting for the shower to begin.

It was going to be a good party. I could feel it.