Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty 3)

“Every single step of the way,” he tells me. “Doctor visits, Lamaze classes, crib buying. You name it, I want to be there.”

“Okay,” I say. As much as he hurt me, I would never take this away from him or our child. “When it comes to the baby, you will be there every step of the way.”

“That means breaking the news to your father,” he tells me. “Besides, there are some things that need to be said, and it’s better if it’s said with the family.”

I push the soup away. “Are you not hungry?” he asks me, and I just shrug.

“Is there anymore of that?” I point at his dish. He pushes his dish in front of me and grabs my soup. “No, I’m not taking your food.”

“You aren’t, but my child is,” he says, pointing at the dish. “Eat.” I roll my eyes at him and eat the rest of his food. “Be careful how far back you roll those eyes. I’ve heard they can get stuck there.” He cleans up and then looks over at me with that smirk on his face. “I’m going to go so you can rest, but I’ll be here tomorrow at nine, and we can have breakfast before we head over to your father’s.”

I nod my head at him, and he looks at me. “Can you call me if you need anything?”

“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, and he just nods and walks out. Stopping at the door, he turns to say something, but he must change his mind because he just turns back and walks out the door.

“He’s a funny guy, your father,” I tell my stomach, turning and getting ready for bed. The next day, I wake, and the minute I open my eyes, I have to rush to the bathroom. By the time nine a.m. rolls around, I’m lying on the couch trying to eat ginger snaps but failing miserably. I pick up my phone and call Carter, who answers on the second ring. “Change of plans. I’m going to go to my dad’s later.”

“Why?” he asks, and I take a sip of water.

“Because I literally can’t move off the couch,” I tell him and then hear a knock. “Are you here?”

“I am. Open the door,” he says, and I roll off the couch and walk to the door slowly, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. “How long have you been sick?”

“No clue,” I tell him and walk back over to the couch, not even caring that I’m wearing my pjs and no bra.

He walks to the bathroom and comes back with a wet cloth. “Did you know that they don’t call it morning sickness anymore?” He puts the rag on the back of my neck. “It’s called nausea and vomiting from pregnancy.” I look at him sideways. “I spent the night reading up on morning sickness.” He sits down by my feet. “Also, if you are six weeks pregnant, our baby is the size of a pea and the shape of the letter C and little buds have formed that will be the arms and legs. Is there anything else you want to know because I’m pretty sure I learned everything around four a.m. this morning?”

“I can’t deal with you when you’re like this,” I tell him and just lay my head on the back of the couch, closing my eyes. I drift off to sleep, and when I wake up, he’s sitting at the end of the couch reading the book What to Expect When You’re Expecting. A cover has been draped over me. “What time is it?”

“A little after eleven,” he tells me. “Do you want something?”

“No,” I tell him and slowly get up and go to the bathroom. I get dressed and get ready to go to my father’s. I walk out of the bedroom and see him sitting on the couch. “I think we should go.”

“Lead the way,” he says, putting the book down on the table. I walk out, and after arguing with him about taking two cars instead of one, he wins, and we make our way over to my father’s. When he opens the door and sees us, his smile disappears, and in its place a frown comes over him.

“Hey, Daddy,” I say, coming in. “Sorry to just drop in, but I need to talk to you and Mom,” I tell him, and he just looks over at Carter who nods at him. “We need to do this fast,” I tell him as the nausea returns in full force. We walk to the living room, and I take my phone out to FaceTime my mother. “Hey, Mom, it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, sweetie,” she says, and I see she is sitting on the couch. “I’m here with Dad,” I say, turning the phone, and she smiles and waves at my father who just scowls. “And Carter.” I turn the phone, and now my mother scowls also. I place the phone down on the table and sit down, and I make sure she can see us all. “There is no easy way to say this,” I start, and my father just shakes his head.