“Of what?”
“This,” I say softly. “All of it.”
He studies me for a long second, eyes dark and soft all at once. Then he stands, steps over the wreckage of Lego blocks, and pulls me into his arms.
Lilia cheers from the floor. “Mama and Papa are hugging!”
“Scandalous,” Dimitri murmurs.
Petyr chuckles and presses a kiss against my hair. “You heard the critic,” he says. “Better not give them a show.”
I swat at his chest, but I’m smiling so wide it hurts.
Then I remember why I came here in the first place. “Petyr,” I say softly. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
He frowns, already on high alert. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s perfect,” I assure him. “Just… come with me?”
He exchanges a look with Dimitri, who shrugs and grins. “I’ll hold the fort. Lilia’s got big plans for the castle’s reconstruction.”
“Don’t let her talk you into a moat,” Petyr advises from the doorway.
“Too late,” Dimitri answers dryly.
I hide a smile and lead Petyr out into the foyer. Once we’re far enough from the noise, I turn to face him. My palms are suddenly clammy, and my heart won’t slow down.
“Sima?” I can hear the concern in his voice. “What is it?”
I step forward, heart racing, and hold out the test. “We’re having another baby.”
Petyr blinks. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t breathe. Basically stops every life function in his body.
Fuck. I probably should have eased him into it. Made a little cupcake with the stick jabbed inside like a candle. Given him time to process.
Oh, well. Notes for next time.
Right now, he just keeps staring at me, enough that I start to wonder if I did something wrong. If maybe he changed his mind about a second child.
Then his eyes widen, and the tension in his face breaks into a look of pure joy. “You’re serious? Already?”
Relief breaks through me. I nod, tears already in my eyes. “I am.”
In the next second, his arms are around me. I melt into him, laughter and tears tangled in my throat. His mouth finds mine in a kiss that’s filled with the kind of joy that makes my heart ache.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “Blyat’, lisichka.You make me the happiest bastard alive.”
“I try,” I laugh.
“No, youdo.” His voice turns intense. “You’re everything, Sima.”
My heart skips a beat, and he kisses me again. Two years, ten years, a thousand—it doesn’t matter. I’ll never stop melting into Petyr’s kisses like it’s the first time.
When he finally pulls back, I can’t help grinning through my tears.
His hand drifts to my stomach, palm flat, warm. Like that night two years ago, when I took his hand and made him feel his daughter moving in my belly. Now, he has the same quiet awe in his eyes.
“It’s a boy,” I tell him smugly.
