Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,109

more pictures than I’ve ever taken in my whole life, and that night, Jessica finally makes her way to us. “Thank you so much for having us,” she says, looking over at Tyler. “It was beautiful.”

“Thank you for coming,” I say, and then she looks over at Carter.

“I just published the story.” She’s wearing a huge smile on her face. “Congratulations,” she says, and they both walk away.

“What is that all about?” I ask him, and he brings out his phone. His screen saver is the picture of me lying on the couch holding my belly. He types in something and then hands it to me. I read the title right over a picture of us at the altar right when we were announced husband and wife.

How Hollywood’s Prince nabbed the role of a lifetime . . . as a husband.

“Come on, wife,” he says, taking my hand, “it’s time to consummate our marriage.” I throw my head back and laugh, reminding him that that horse has already left the barn. He picks me up and carries me inside and has his wicked way with me all night long anyway.

Epilogue One

Carter

The sound of crying fills the baby monitor, and I look over to see that she is moving in her crib. Her legs are moving up and down, and her hands are in fists over her head. I smile, thinking she has as much patience as I do.

She came into the world three months ago screaming and didn’t settle down until she got her mother’s breast. Only then did her eyes open and she looked around. I was a mess, to say the least. Seeing Erin in pain while she bounced on a fucking ball was the worst time of my life. But then she became a warrior and gave birth to my nine pound, five ounce baby girl we called Annabella. I still call her little one. The nursery started out neutral since we didn’t know the baby’s sex, but slowly, pink things started to appear. I walk over to the crib, and her feet and arms are going nuts.

“Hey there, little one,” I say, and she stops crying. “What is all the fuss about?” I grab the bottle that Erin left me right before she walked into the bedroom to do her glam stuff. I grab my phone and snap a picture of her, wondering if I can put another picture of her on my Instagram. When the press finally found out we were expecting, I did it with a picture of us on the beach. Me sitting with Erin in the middle of my legs and both our hands on her stomach with the caption.

“Dreams really do come true.”

Then once a week, I would post things about being a dad. It was brilliant, as Sylvia said, because my popularity went through the roof, and people kept following just to keep up with our journey.

Walking to the rocking chair, she starts to fuss again, and when I finally cradle her and put the nipple into her mouth, she settles down. Her tongue moves it out of her mouth. “Sorry, little one, this is the best you are going to get.” She looks at me with her huge blue eyes, and she just starts sucking. “Momma is getting ready,” I tell her, and she just looks at me. “Tonight is the movie premiere.” I smile at her. “Grandpa says we don’t have to watch the movie.” She looks at me and takes in all my words as though I’m telling her all the secrets in the world.

“Momma is having a hard time leaving you. She got Grandma to fly in to make sure you are okay.” She finishes the bottle, and I put her over my shoulder and start to rub her back and then burp her. Once she burps, she starts to fuss and cry again. “Don’t tell me you’re still hungry,” I ask her, and she stretches in my arms. I walk to our bedroom, and I hear the blow dryer going, and when I step foot into the bathroom, I’m met with two women working on my wife. My wife, the best thing that has ever happened to me.

“There she is,” I tell our daughter. Turning her in my arms, I hold her around her waist and under her bum. “There’s the source of all your food.” Erin looks over at us, her robe is off her shoulders and her hair is being curled while a