Page 60 of Twisted Prince

“What’s all this about pancakes?” I demand after a thorough kiss attack. I hold her like a baby and peer down at her in my arms as she beams up at me.

“Miss Kieri makin’ pancakes,” she explains, her wide eyes turning solemn.

“Oh, is that what she said?” I ask, smiling.

Gabby nods. “Can I have some, Mama? Please?”

“Well, I don’t see why not,” I agree. “Go pick out your outfit for today, and let’s get ready.”

My little girl does as she’s told, scrambling from the bed to rummage through the bottom drawers of the dresser, which hold her clothes so she can reach them. I smile as I watch her from my single bed that sits kitty-corner to hers. She’s still working on the concept of dressing, but she’s more than enthusiastic about learning. Today, she pulls out two shirts and forgets about the pants, though she manages to find her favorite pair of princess undies somewhere along the line.

And as she brings them over, I slip from the bed to help her put them on.

“Great choice,” I praise, tugging the tiny long-sleeved shirt over her head. “But what about the bottom half?” I remind her.

She looks down at her bare legs and Disney princess undies. Fresh out of diapers, she’s still wrapping her mind around the difference between underwear and pants. Shuffling back to the drawers, she digs around for a pair of bottoms. And the vibrant orange she picks out is going to look monstrous with her pink heart top. But I’m not about to discourage her.

Handing them over proudly, Gabby places her hands on my shoulders and tries to step into the leg before I have it ready. Pressing my lips to keep from chuckling, I help her into her pants and wiggle them up around her tiny body.

“Ready?” she asks, her excitement returning.

“Well, what about Mama? She needs to get dressed, too,” I say.

Gabby’s green eyes brighten, and she rushes toward the wardrobe where I keep my dresses. A lump forms in my throat as I think about how much she looks like Gleb for what must be the thousandth time. And just like that, I’m thrown into a tumult of emotion.

My eyes are tired from lack of sleep because I stayed up most of the night debating whether I would actually meet with Gleb this morning. We never set a time because I was in such a rush to get back inside before he paid the price. Now, as I let Gabby help me pick out my outfit for the day, I’m more conflicted than ever.

“This one,” she says confidently as she pulls a flowing floral-print skirt from the lineup.

It’s a summer dress, one that would probably get a bit chilly if I were to go outside. I could always throw a sweater on top if I need, so I drag it from its hanger. “Good call,” I agree.

Slipping out of my sleepwear, I dress quickly and run a brush through both of our hair. Once we’re presentable, Gabby and I make our way downstairs to the kitchen.

The rich smell of coffee fills the air, along with the distinct scent of pancakes on the griddle.

“Morning,” Kieri singsongs as we enter the kitchen.

Lindsey and her son Tanner are already up and sitting at the table, as are Karinna and Lark.

“Morning,” I say, combing my fingers through Gabby’s hair as she suddenly turns shy. “Can you say good morning?” I encourage gently.

“Morning,” she murmurs, tucking her face against my hip.

“Gabby’s been looking forward to some pancakes,” I say, flashing Kieri a smile. “Isn’t that right, keiki?”

Gabby nods, her thumb making its way into her mouth. Gently, I remove it to take her hand and walk with her to the table. As adorable as she is when she sucks her thumb, I don’t want her to ruin her teeth, so I’m trying to help her break the habit before it’s too ingrained.

“Well, good thing because I made plenty,” Kieri says, setting a plate down on the table in front of the chair Gabby’s climbing.

I fight the urge to smile as she insists on doing it without my help. My little girl is the definition of independent, and I love it. But I also keep within arm’s reach to ensure she doesn’t fall and bonk her head.

When Gabby’s settled, I pour myself a coffee with cream and take the seat beside her. Getting to work, I cut her pancakes into bite-size pieces.

“You girls have some fun plans for the day?” Karinna asks as she spoon-feeds little Lark.

As the newest mother in the house, Karinna’s only been with us for a few months now, her little four-month-old daughter an adorable if noisy addition to the group.

Again, her question triggers my self-doubt. “We’re still working on that,” I say, casually brushing off her curiosity before turning the question back toward her.

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