Six months later

“Sit down, sweetheart, you look exhausted,” Bryce says, guiding me to the garden chair situated next to a heavily pregnant Nisha.

She catches my eye, rolling hers. “Bryce, she’s pregnant, not an invalid.”

“Even so, I don’t want Louisa overdoing it. You know what it’s like carrying a baby in this temperature. It’s so damn hot, even my ankles are swelling.”

Nisha and I laugh. “You may have a point there,” she concedes, fanning her face with her summer hat.

“Can I get you anything? A drink, some more food?” he asks.

“No, thank you, I’m completely full. This little boy is taking up far too much room in my stomach to possibly fit any more food in.”

“Takes after his dad, I expect.” Bryce smiles broadly, placing the flat of his hand across my taut belly. Even though I’m only five months pregnant, I do have a nice large tummy.

“This little man is certainly energetic like his daddies,” I say.

Bryce laughs, and the sound fills me with joy. We are not sure who the father is, given our relationship. Yet neither Bryce, Max or Hudson care. As far as they’re concerned this little boy has three dads who will love him regardless of whose DNA he has. But I have my suspicions as to who this little one belongs to. Whether it is intuition or an acute awareness of my body, I know this baby belongs to Bryce.

“You sure you’re okay?” Bryce asks again.

“I’m fine, honestly.”

“How about you, Nisha? Would you like something?”

“Cal is grabbing me a burger. Although he’s taking forever to get it,” she laughs, nodding her head to Cal, Hudson and Max, who are slapping each other on the back, laughing uproariously about something or other. I catch Richard’s eye, who is laughing with them, and he raises his hand and waves. I wave back, so grateful to have him in my life. In fact, I am blessed with loving so many wonderful men. Richard, who for all intents and purposes is my father by choice. Cal, who I adore because of the happiness he brings Nisha, and of course Max, Bryce and Hudson who, though not my husbands in the recognised form, are mine in the only way that counts.

“I thought Hudson was taking charge of the barbeque? Looks like he’s roped in Stu to take over,” Nisha says, pointing to Stuart flipping burgers.

“He looks perfectly happy doing it though,” I observe.

“Hud is totally shirking his duties, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll give both him and Cal a kick up the arse.” Bryce presses a sweet kiss against my mouth before heading over to where our men are gathered. On the grass, a rather energetic Ty is running around with his mum Jessica, whilst his other mum, Sarah, is chatting with some of her work colleagues in the shade of the old oak tree.

“So, they put this on every year?” Nisha asks as she rests her hand against the huge mound of her belly. She is due any day now and is beautiful in the last trimester of her pregnancy. Her hair is shining with life, her skin is glowing, and her happiness pours out of her. Neither she nor Cal can stop smiling, their bond stronger than ever.

“Yes. They invite all the staff and their families. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It is.” She holds her hand out and I take it. “Look at us, Lou. Look at how happy we are.” Her eyes brim with joyful tears, and a lump forms in my own throat.

“Stop,” I say, flapping my hand. “You’ll make me cry. These hormones are a killer.”

“Tell me about it. Although there are some plusses to being pregnant,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yes, there is that.” I giggle, remembering last night with my men. My cheeks flame at the memory.

“Seriously though, Lou. I can’t believe that just a few months ago we were two messed-up girls who were barely holding it together. Now look at us. Here we are, loved by these wonderful men and about to be mothers. I’m so happy I could burst.”

I squeeze Nisha’s hand. “Well don’t do any bursting just yet, at least wait until the party’s over,” I joke, eyeing her belly.

“What are you two talking about?” Calum asks as he places Nisha’s long-awaited burger on the table.

“Contractions,” Nisha says, her lips twitching.

“Shit. What? Is the baby coming? Oh, fuck, Nish. Let me grab the car keys…” Calum spins on his feet whilst both Nisha and I crack up laughing.

He pauses, staring at us both as though we’ve finally lost our minds to our pregnancy brains.

“Oh, stop. I’m going to pee myself,” Nisha says through her laughter.

“You’re not having contractions then?”

“No, Cal, I’m not. But honestly, when the time comes you’re going to need to be a little calmer. Panicked Cal equals pissed off Nisha.”

Calum sits down, blowing out a long breath. “Christ, don’t do that to me. I swear I almost had a coronary.”

Nisha leans over and kisses him. “Hey, when the time comes, you’ll be fine. I have every faith in you.”

Cal takes Nisha’s hand and presses his lips against her knuckles, then he brings his mouth up to hers and they kiss. I turn my gaze away, not wanting to intrude on their tender moment.

“Jeez guys, get a room,” Max says with a grin as he plonks himself in a seat next to me. They both ignore him, too engrossed in each other to take note of his gentle ribbing. He turns to me, the sunlight making a halo of his blonde hair.

“You okay, Icy?” he asks, resting his hand on my stomach.

“I’m more than okay,” I say in response.

Hudson and Bryce return to the table with plates piled up with food. The both kiss me, unable to be near me without physical contact. Underneath Max’s palm our little boy kicks.

“Holy shit, did you feel that?” Max asks, his face lighting up in delight.

I laugh. “Sure did, he’s a wriggler.”

Hudson puts his plate down. “Let me feel too,” he says. Max slides his hand to a lower part of my belly whilst Hudson places his on the apex of my bump. The baby kicks again.

“Hey, son,” Hudson grins. He looks up at me from his kneeled position by my side, his green eyes brimming with the certainty of our future together.

“Make room, boys,” Bryce says, leaning over my shoulder and placing his hand on my bump too.

I look down at my stomach so firmly held by them all and slide my hand into the gap left for me. On my finger a ring catches the sunlight. It’s a Russian wedding ring. Three bands of gold all looped within one another, their own entities but joined forever. One is gold, one rose and the last platinum, each band representing the men I love and our commitment to each other. We might be unconventional, we might be far from the norm, but on this bright summer’s day we are a family and that is all that matters.