I'd just stepped out of the shower and was tying the belt on my bathrobe when I heard Dimitri calling my name loudly from somewhere down the hall. Wrapping a towel around my wet hair, I padded barefoot along the hallway—he was at the foot of the stairs, gazing up at me with a look of confusion on his handsome face.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I got a little distracted, so it took me a minute to grasp what he was saying.

I completely zoned out at the sight of my husband gently cradling our tiny baby girl in his strong arms. I think there's something hardwired into women's brains—the sight of a big, muscular man holding a baby makes us go weak in the knees and reduces our brains to mush. Especially when the man is shirtless—which Dimitri happened to be.

"Roza…?"

I shook myself out of my stupor at the questioning sound of my name. "Huh?"

"Anya's milk? I can't find it. You did say there was some waiting, yes?"

"It's in the fridge—second shelf, near the back. In that glass jug thing—you know… the one that looks like we stole it from a restaurant. I filled it this morning." I was breastfeeding, but Dimitri wanted to share the responsibility for our daughter's feedings. Since I was seriously sleep deprived from two am feedings, I wasn't about to argue—though the contraption I had to use to pump the milk made me feel like a cow at times.

"It's not there…" He shifted Anya, bouncing her a little; her face scrunched up and she let out a howl—just to make sure we knew that she didn't appreciate being kept waiting.

I sighed, jogging down the stairs—walking straight past him and heading for the kitchen. Dimitri is pretty observant as a general rule, but I was slowly beginning to realize that if he was holding his precious little Utochka, it was hard for him to focus on anything else. The day before he'd been in a panic while changing her when he was unable to find the baby powder—it was sitting right beside the stack of diapers… in plain view, less than a foot from his face.

Adrian was sitting at the counter, his nose buried in an art book; he didn't even look up as I breezed past him. "Honestly Dimitri… I'm beginning to think you're so obsessed with her that—" I jerked open the door to the refrigerator, my voice trailing off a I peered inside. He was right—it wasn't there.

"I told you." I glanced over my shoulder at him—he looked almost smug. "Are you sure you filled it?"

"Trust me—pumping milk isn't exactly something I could forget. Maybe Vika borrowed it for Zach." I'd been offering her my milk since I had more than enough for Anya and poor little Zach was malnourished—thanks to his biological mother's ridiculous obsession with calories—but so far she'd refused, making up formula for him from a recipe Yeva had given her. Since Dimitri had thrived on the same formula—and was a giant—I wasn't about to argue. Shutting the fridge, I glanced around—the glass pitcher was in the sink. Empty. "Hey Adrian… did Vika use this?"

He didn't answer—whatever was in that stupid book must have been pretty interesting.

"ADRIAN—" I raised my voice, holding up the empty pitcher. "—did Vika…" my voice trailed off as he dropped the big book; he was eating a bowl of cold cereal. "Uh… Adrian… what milk did you use on that?"

"Huh? The milk from the fridge." He glanced down at his cereal, grimacing. "Did we switch to soy milk or something and nobody told me? It's got a weird consistency."

Dimitri's eyes widened. "Are you saying… that is the milk that was in this container?"

"Yeah… so?" We watched in silence as he ate a giant spoonful of cereal.

I set the jug down, crossing my arms as I leaned back against the counter. "Well… I guess it's nice to know that if there's a famine or something… I can feed the whole family."

Adrian glanced over at me, his brow wrinkling as he chewed. "What? What am I missing here?"

"Moo." I smiled.

He paled, his green eyes widening as they flicked from me to the bowl. "No… no way."

My smile widened. "Just call me 'Elsie the cow'."

He jumped up so fast he knocked his stool over, racing over to the sink, gagging dramatically as he rinsed his mouth out. Dimitri chuckled softly, his amusement slowly growing stronger as Adrian retched and groaned. By the time Adrian straightened up and turned around to glare at him, Dimitri was laughing so hard he was leaning against the counter for support.

"It's not funny! Why in the hell would you put that crap in the refrigerator without labeling it Rose?"

"My milk is not 'crap'," I said, offended at his choice of words. "—and you didn't seem to mind it before you knew what it was!"

Anya let out another frustrated howl, then started screaming—her little face turned red with anger. Immediately, I felt the now familiar ache in my boobs as my body responded to her hungry cries, so I reached over, scooping her out of Dimitri's arms, shooting Adrian one last pointed look. "If you'll excuse us—I need to go feed my child. I hope you're happy Adrian—your goddaughter is starving since you just ate her breakfast."

With that I stalked out of the room, bouncing Anya and cooing to her softly—promising her she'd have plenty to eat if she'd just hang on a few seconds. As my foot hit the bottom step, I heard my husband's deep voice asking my brother in law a question that made the Moroi start gagging all over again.

"So… what did it taste like?"

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I glanced down at Anya—who was still snuffling unhappily. I tickled her belly in an attempt to distract her. "You're lucky you've got me, little duck. Otherwise you'd be stuck with those two clowns and they'd probably be serving you hamburgers or something. Mama's gonna have to keep an eye on them, isn't she? Yes she is!"

Anya's brown eyes widened; she giggled—the sound so sweet it made me smile.

Things haven't quite turned out the way I expected them to—I mean… when I met Adrian Ivashkov I never imagined he'd be my brother in law, much less that he'd be using my breast milk to garnish his cereal. I never dreamed I'd be able to give my Russian god the children he longed for, or that we'd wind up living in Russia—but that's just what happened. As crazy as life gets and as much as it frustrates me at times, I wouldn't change a single thing about what's happened and and what we've become.

I love every single minute of it… and I can't wait to see what happens next.