My Brother's Best Friend

Parker's POV

Parker's POV - Bonus Chapter

I love the sound of my feet pounding on the pavement, the wind whipping through my hair. I love the serenity that the early morning brings, the stillness of the world before all the traffic and the man-made noise.

Like the paparazzi for example.

As I rounded my last corner, finishing out my morning run, I almost slammed into a guy with a camera standing on my block.

"Parker Adams!" he shouted, which immediately started a frenzy.

Shit.

I weaved my way through the mass of paparazzi currently outside my home, all of which were snapping pictures of me.

I'm sure none too flattering seeing as though I finished a nice 7-mile run.

"Parker, what's the gender of the baby?" one of the guys with the cameras asked, shoving his tape recorder practically into my face.

"When's the due date?" another lady asked.

I let myself into the house, locking the door behind me.

I was greeted by the sound of classical music, meaning that Emily was awake.

I unstrapped my running armband from my bicep, freeing my phone. "Good morning!" I called out.

"In the living room!" Emily called back.

I stopped for a bottle of water in the kitchen before making may way back to the living room, where Emily was standing up on a ladder, dusting the fan.

Only my 9-month pregnant wife would be dusting the fan at 8:13 in the morning.

"Princess," I said, rushing to her aid and helping her down the ladder.

"I am fine," she informed me.

Stubborn as always.

"I'm sure you are." I took the Swiffer Duster from her. "But the dusting of the fan can wait."

"It's so dirty up there," she said, peering up at the fan. "When's the last time we dusted the fans?"

I'm sure never.

"Why don't I make you some breakfast?" I suggested, leading her into the kitchen. "You're up rather early."

Usually when I got in from my morning run, I'd make her breakfast and deliver it to her in bed.

You always wanted those extra brownie points for that one day when you royally screw something up.

"She was up early this morning," Emily said, patting her extended stomach. "Kicking and ready to start our day."

I pulled out the kitchen chair for her, holding her hand as she lowered herself into it.

"You know what I'm craving?" she asked me, her eyes lighting up.

There's absolutely no telling.

Yesterday it was red velvet pancakes with colored sprinkles and chopped bananas all slathered in peanut butter.

Absolutely disgusting.

"What?" I asked, finishing off my bottle of water and tossing it into the trash can.

"That's some mad skill," she said, with a smile.

"What can I make you for breakfast?" I reminded her.

I cannot wait for her to have this baby. This pregnancy was getting to her head.

"Something with pickles."