“No, doofus,” Nash answers.
“I’m a little shocked by the amount and different types of fluid,” Theo says.
Seriously? He snacks on still moving, and heart beating animals, and my fluids are a surprise?
“Try being the one secreting the damn fluids.” I groan as the pressure increases and sweat trickles down my spine. “I think I need to push.”
“Okay, okay,” Genie says. “It’s happening. Man your stations.”
Manning my damn station is what got us here.
A gentle knock sounds at the door, and I give Gwyneth my best death glare when she moves to open it. I need her here. She’s the only person in this room who doesn’t have the offending genitalia.
Charming peeks over her head, and I curl my lip. “Do you need anything?”
Yeah, less smarmy, more barmy.
Hart grabs a few clean towels, and Nash steps to the bottom of the bed.
“No. Check back in a turn,” my sister says before shutting the door in his face.
I draw the line at Prince—I mean King—Charming being in the room. That’s right. They got hitched and crowned, and look at that—I still have all my eyes.
My chin touches my chest as I bear down and do what my body urges me to do. Push.
“Just a few pushes, Daphne, and you get to meet our baby,” Malachi says, giving me his best happy-chappy grin that makes me want to murder him.
“No smiling,” Theo instructs. “She might actually kill you.”
Gwyneth rushes back over and clasps my other hand. When it looks like Malachi is going to come to my other side, I growl.
“I warned you about the smiling,” Theo grumbles. He takes my other hand, leaving the other three mellows to stand on ceremony at the bottom of the bed.
“You should probably lift the sheet and place the towels underneath her butt,” Genie says.
“What do you mean ‘probably?’” I snap. “You said you knew what you were doing. Probably is not knowing. It’s guessing.”
He peers down at me from his position above the bed. “No, I said I’d witnessed a few births, and you declared that was practically overqualified, so you’d make do with me over a stranger. I did read several books.”
“Did they mention the fluids?” Malachi mutters.
“Stop talking about my damn fluids and do something. No, cancel that,” I shout. “I can’t stand your face.”
“Should I leave?”
“Absolutely not,” Gwyneth says.
“I should leave,” I decide. “We can adopt. I hear the Pied Piper is looking for homes for his kids.”
“Maybe after this,” Hart says.
I grit my teeth and push with the most indescribable pain known to anyone.
“Oh, is that?” Nash murmurs. All three stupid faces lower to gaze between my legs. Making babies was fun. This is not. I feel like I’m being split in two like a damn coconut. No, more like a melon. I could do with some melon right now.
“I think she’s crowning,” Malachi adds.
I’ll crown his stupid face with my fist if he keeps staring at my burning floof like it’s the answer to all his prayers.
