“As a matter of fact, I am,” Matteo replied pleasantly, putting a hand over his belly.
I steeled myself for a degrading remark, but one never came. A crescent-moon of a grin sliced Viol’s mouth.
“Cute,” he said gruffly. “Can’t wait to have another niece or nephew.”
That was...not the response I expected. But then again, Viol had a bizarre soft spot for babies. He was aggressively kind to Taylor during his delivery—almosttookind. He locked everybody out of the room while Taylor was in labor just to keep him comfortable. It backfired when Crimson was caught in the crossfire, but it was the thought that counted.
“I’m inclined to agree with Viol,” Jade chimed in. “Welcoming new family members keeps things interesting around here.”
“And who doesn’t love baby dragons?” Saffron piped up, a dreamy look in his eyes.
Aurum rolled his eyes but said nothing. Whatever secret disagreement they were having, I was glad to stay out of it.
I coughed. “Well, good talk, everyone. Now, can me and Matteo get some alone time to eat lunch?”
“Sure, we’ll let youeat lunch,” Crimson remarked as he turned to leave. “Anyway, I’ve got a rambunctious dragonet to save his daddy from.”
Matteo grinned at me. “Are you going to save me from our baby, too?”
I kissed him on the cheek. “No, because our baby will be better behaved than Crimson’s spawn.”
Crimson barked out a loud, echoing laugh before he walked out the door. It was an omen of things to come. I had no doubt my comment would bite me in the ass in a few months—literally.
The weather was beautifully sunny, so we took our lunch to go. We put down a picnic blanket and sat beneath the shade of a tropical tree on the beach, its canopy waving lazily in the breeze.
Matteo smoothed his hand over the patchwork quilt. “Did Taylor make this?”
“He did,” I confirmed, putting the woven basket between us. “When he was pregnant, he went on a quilting bender. I swear the amount of quilts in the castle outnumber us three-to-one. It’s a fucking fabric army.”
Matteo chuckled. “That sounds like him. He’s not the type who likes to sit around and do nothing.”
“Are you?” I asked.
He rocked his head back and forth. “Not when the creative urge strikes.”
“Oh no. Have I been distracting you from your creative urges?” I gasped in horror. “Is too much sex the reason you haven’t written music?”
He laughed, his eyes sparkling. “How do you know I haven’t been?”
“Don’t play with my feelings like that,” I warned.
Matteo smiled, leaning in to touch our noses. “Come on, Thystle. Would I do that to you?”
My heart raced as I stared into his eyes. Their warm brown depths comforted me.
He was serious.
“You’ve been writing songs?” I asked, almost scared to hear the answer.
He nodded slowly. “It’s the first time I’ve been inspired in a long while. Thanks to you.”
A hopeful feeling swelled in my chest, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.
“Me?” I asked.
Matteo chuckled as he captured my hands in his. “Why are you surprised? It’s kind of hardnotto feel inspired when you stare at me like I’m the only thing in the world.”
I growled as I pulled his hands closer, rubbing my thumbs across them. “As far as I’m concerned, you are.”
