“You have to keep these Daddies under control, Immy,” Cat told her. “Or they’ll think they’re the boss. And you’ve got two of them.”
Hmm. Cat did have a point.
“What are we doing?” Maeve asked. “Decorating cookies? Oh, I missed baking them.” Her face fell.
“You didn’t,” Immy told her quickly.
“Yeah, Doomy Gloomy wouldn’t let us near the oven,” Cat told her. “He claimed that we’d hurt ourselves. I told him that Immy bakes all the time, but he still wasn’t having a bar of it. So he baked these for us.”
“To be fair, he is pretty busy getting everything ready for tomorrow,” Immy said.
“He’s also very fond of the word no,” Cat said. “Pretty sure he was hatched saying ‘no’.”
“Um, hatched?” Maeve asked.
“Yeah, he definitely wasn’t born.” Cat grinned. “Come on. Let’s decorate cookies.”
“Are you nervous, Maeve?” Immy asked as they started with the icing first. She had a cookie in the shape of Santa to decorate. This was such fun!
“Yeah, kind of,” Maeve replied as she took a tentative bite of a piece of dry toast.
Immy figured that might help settle her stomach.
“I just don’t know what I’m more nervous about,” Maeve added. “Being pregnant or not being pregnant.”
“At least you’ll soon know,” Cat said. “Then we can plan.”
Immy really hoped she was pregnant. She would love to be an auntie.
They kept decorating and eating. Well, Immy kept eating anyway. After the last cookie was decorated, Immy lay back with a groan. “I can’t. I can’t do any more. I think I’m going to be ill.”
Maeve gave her a concerned look. “You do look a bit pale. How many did you eat?”
She’d lost track.
And it wasn’t just the cookies. It was the candy. And the icing.
The door to the bedroom suddenly opened and Gray walked in. “Maeve, have you seen . . .” he trailed off, shaking his head before getting out his phone and calling someone. “They’re here. In with Maeve.” He ended the call and gave Cat then Immy, a stern look. “Your men are looking for you.”
Oops.
“What have you naughty girls been up to?” Gray asked, walking closer. “Cookies? Did you eat some? You probably shouldn’t eat sugar if you’ve been vomiting.”
“No sugar?” Immy gaped at him. “Man, that’s harsh. Really harsh. It’s Christmas. It’s a time to eat as much sugar as you want!” She stood with a small groan, putting her hand on her belly. “Well, as much sugar as your stomach can handle. Excuse me, got to go. Maeve, Gray, good luck!”
She headed to her bedroom, walking straight to the bed and ignoring Jenner as he stopped playing his guitar.
“Immy?” he asked in concern as she climbed onto the bed and lay on her stomach. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t reply. She didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to tell him the truth.
“Immy? Talk to me,” Jenner said as he sat on the bed and rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?”
“I’d say that someone has eaten too much sugar,” Tobias said, walking into the room.
Cupcakes.
“Papa! No tattling.”
