Bex’s house buzzed with the noise of forty grown-ups, a half-dozen babies, four toddlers, and Vinny slowly letting the air out of a balloon. The farting noise sent the toddlers into peals of laughter, and even from the dining room, Bex could hear them in the living room, giggling and begging for more.

She smiled from her seat at the dining room table. It was Weston’s Gotcha Day—the official day his adoption paperwork went through—and for an adoptive family, it was almost as important as any birthday ever could be. This was the day things became really real, not that Sam and Dare had been anything but parents from the moment they brought Weston home. But things could only go forward from here.

A hand-lettered banner spelling out “Gotcha,” stretched across the archway separating the living room from the dining room, and a few stray balloons that Vinny hadn’t plundered crowded up against the low ceiling of Bex’s house. Her nephew giggled from his highchair at the head of the dining room table, half milk-drunk and completely overstimulated from the crowd. Still, Sam swept through the room like a pro, grabbing a burp cloth and pressing it to his son’s lips. Then he dropped into the chair next to Weston and cracked open a beer.

“I can’t believe this day is here,” Bex started. “And what a way to ring in the New Year.” True, it was a few weeks past the holiday, but she hadn’t had the heart to take down her Christmas tree from its cozy spot in the living room, and New Year’s confetti was still ground into the carpet, no matter how many times she’d vacuumed.

“I know.” Sam’s voice was so proud, so damn happy. He and Aderyn deserved this. “He’s mine, Bex. He’s ours.”

Bex reached for her brother’s hand and squeezed.

“Thank you again for this party,” Sam said. “And for cleaning out the damn china cabinet.”

She grinned, looking over his shoulder at the shelves where her toy collection once stood. “I mean, plates don’t have the same effect as dildos, but it’s not a bad look. Anyway, it was about time for the toys to go.”

She hadn’t gotten rid of the collection, of course, but she’d moved a few choice products to her bedside table. For easier access, and all of that. Anyway, with Gabe in her life, she didn’t need the toys the same way. They were a record of where she had been, but they weren’t the map of where she was going now.

“Trust me, I think you spared the rest of my friends. Believe it or not, the Mommy and Me group Aderyn joined isn’t so big on having a phallic collection on display.”

“Who’s not big on phalluses? And maybe they should be.” Emma smiled, entering the room and placing her hands on the back of Bex’s chair.

“You are still so proud of winning the design competition, aren’t you?” Bex grumbled.

Emma gave a half-curtsy and dropped into the chair next to Sam. “I’m sorry, did you hear your brother complain?”

No one had expected Emma’s toy design to sweep the competition at work, but they especially hadn’t expected her to donate half the prize money to Sam and Aderyn’s baby fund. “I’m his friend, too,” Emma had reminded her.

Yeah, she really was.

Even better, Bex’s year-end bonus from Jeremy had more than made up for the money she’d lost out on by judging the competition. More adoption and college fund money for everyone.

Sam pointed his beer at Emma now. “You certainly helped buy a lot of diapers. This kid pees every ten minutes.”

Emma lifted her eyebrows. “Oh, so you mean that bought you enough to last a week,” she teased.

“Something like that.”

Bex’s heart soared, surrounded here by her family and friends on this beautiful day. Gabe appeared in the doorway of the dining room and leaned his hip against the doorframe. Just like every time she saw her boyfriend, her heart skipped. But it wasn’t fear in her chest anymore. Just excitement for the things to come.

“Bex, can I borrow you in the kitchen a minute?” he asked.

“A cake emergency?”

He smiled, and his eyes pulled her in. “Something like that.”

She followed Gabe into the kitchen, where trays of party food had spilled onto the counters—a hand-arranged charcuterie board for the adults next to a display of rice puffs and Goldfish crackers for the kids. Her life was this contrast now—the old and the new, the refined and the mess. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So what’s up?” Bex asked.

Gabe gestured at the dessert behind him, a half sheet cake with the words “Gotcha” and today’s date frosted in blue buttercream. He’d stayed up late last night to bake the thing, spending a very memorable thirty minutes buried deep inside Bex while the cake was in the oven. You couldn’t blame her for jumping on him. Apparently, the man could bake. And he liked to bake shirtless. Really, there wasn’t a downside.

“It looks beautiful,” she said.

“I’m thinking we might need some candles,” Gabe said. “Where do you keep yours?”

Bex crossed the kitchen and reached for the drawer where she stored her baking supplies. She, too, had an affinity for decorating edible things. You got to eat the results. What could be better?

She pulled the handle, and the box of candles slid toward the front of the drawer, along with a small, square box. She hadn’t put that there.

Bex froze, then reached for the box with trembling fingers. “What’s this?”

Gabe walked toward her and pressed a kiss to her temple. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and from the look on his face, so filled with love and devotion, she knew. “You can open that now, or you can wait,” he said, his voice steady. “I don’t want to take away from Sam and Dare and Weston’s day.”

Tears filled her eyes. “You can’t,” she whispered. “Joy breeds more joy. Didn’t you teach me that?”

He nodded, and a slow smile spread across his face that caught in Bex’s chest and lit her world on fire. “Well, in that case, open the box.”

She lifted the lid with shaking fingers and gasped at the ring set into the dark velvet. A piece of rose gold from either end of the delicate band reached toward a center cushion-cut diamond and held the stone like a heart between two hands.

“Maybe this can be our Gotcha Day, too,” Gabe said. He stroked the back of her neck with strong fingers and looked at her with expectant eyes.

“What are you saying?”

Gabe smiled now, his whole heart on his face. “You’re my family, Rebecca Kingsley, and you’re my home. I want you to be my wife. I want to love you today and every day, for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

Bex launched herself into Gabe’s arms and found his mouth. He was her home, her heart. “Of course I will, ace. I love you.” She smiled against his lips. They were going to build a future together, one day at a time. “I gotcha back.”

Read Emma’s story in His Invitation!