After she gets out of the Subaru, Hazel helps adjust the baby sling around my shoulder. Three-month-old baby Jessalyn is cozy against my chest, sound asleep.

“I can’t wait to see my cousins!” Luke exclaims. As he has grown he looks so much like his namesake, and while they may not be related by blood, there is brightness in my boy’s eyes that remind of my best friend that we lost so long ago.

Luke’s excitement over his very first day of school is palpable. He’s been counting down the hours and, finally, it is here.

“I know, sweetie, we’ll get there in just a sec,” Hazel says, handing our five-year-old son his lunchbox from the back seat before closing the car doors. “Okay, I think we have everything.”

“Phone?” I ask as my wife throws her hands in the air. I chuckle, knowing she always forgets things like this. And who would blame her? Having a newborn is no easy job.

“Oh my gosh, can you imagine me not remembering to take photos of this?” She pulls open the front door and reaches for her phone. I lean over, never able to resist taking in the view of my gorgeous, curvy wife. “I’d be mom of the year.”

Luke beams up at his mom. “You are the mom of the year,” he says, taking her hand in his. “You’re the best mom of the century.”

It’s obvious that Hazel’s heart softens over her boy’s sentiments. Her eyes mist up and I can practically read her thoughts. How in the world is Luke already five? Going to school, learning to read … damn, time goes so fast.

It seem like only yesterday Hazel was setting up her rickety candy cart on the Main Street of Linesworth, desperate for her life to start making sense.

And then we met and both our worlds changed.

We found love, my wife melted my hard candy shell.

And six years later, it’s as strong as ever.

“Don’t start crying yet, Sugar Mama,” I tease as we walk toward the school building.

Truth is, I feel a little sentimental myself. The fact my little guy is leaving the nest has me blinking back tears of my own. I hide my eyes by kissing the top of Jessalyn’s head, inhaling her perfect baby scent, grateful that we had a second child that would be home now that Luke was going to be in school all day.

The large red brick building is warm and inviting, a big banner welcoming students back, and an American flag waving in the early September sky. When Luke sees Milo and Lucy under the flagpole he lets go of Hazel’s hands and runs toward his older cousins.

Just then Andrew, Maggie and Charlie’s son, dashes out to meet Luke and they run together.

“Hey, Clive, Hazel,” Charlie says, pushing a stroller as his son runs off ahead. “You guys holding up okay?”

Charlie squeezes my shoulder, giving me a hard time—everyone knows that I’ve become a softie ever since Hazel came into my life.

Hazel leans down and says hi to our niece. “You have a few years to wait before you can join your cousins, huh?”

“Mama says I go school.”

Hazel lifts her eyes as Maggie joins them.

“Anna says she’s going to school,” Maggie says. She holds a coffee carrier and hands Hazel her double latte, extra vanilla. “Thank you, by the way.” Hazel sighs, holding the paper cup with both hands. “It smells so good.”

“New coffee shop in town,” Maggie says. “It looks super cute. It’s called Coffee Cake.”

“Sounds like competition,” I say with a frown. Two years ago, the girls, Maggie, Hazel and Greta, opened a new business, the Three Sisters’ Bakery and Sweet Dream Candy Shoppe. A lot of words for the name of a bakery slash confectioner’s, but the girls didn’t care. All that mattered to them was that they were running the business together. Friends forever, family first. That was their motto.

“No, it’s got a coffee house vibe. Totally different.” Maggie looks happier than ever. Charlie always seems to give her a reason to smile. I may have given those two a hard ass time when they first hooked up, but now I see I was a fool to ever think of them apart. Those two were made for one another.

“Oh, and yes. School!” Maggie grins back at Hazel, seeming to remember her earlier question. She wears the kinda grin that only moms-who-are-going-stir-crazy-with-three-year-olds can make at the mere mention of mommy-time. I remember, years ago, when I was living with my older sister Maggie after her first husband died, how I’d help her with the kids, and how much she needed adult time. “I signed Anna up for preschool. Two half-days a week.”

Maggie and Charlie lock eyes and Hazel looks away. I laugh. “Guess we won’t be knocking on your door either of those mornings.”

Maggie throws back her head and cracks up, wrapping her arm around Charlie’s back and kissing him on the cheek. “It’s been sooo long since we were kid-free.”

“Speaking of kid-free, these two punks are the ones we should be giving a hard time,” Charlie says as Greta and Ansel join us.

“Where’s Jackson?” Maggie asks our sister.

“Oh, he ran off ahead. We had to go to the office and turn in some paperwork for Lucy for middle school. Can’t believe this is her last year here. I’m getting a little weepy.” Greta blots her eyes. “And then with Jacks starting school, my house will be empty, and …” She buries her face in Ansel’s chest.

“She’s been a little emotional this morning,” he tells us.

“That’s expected. Your three kiddos are all in school. It’s a big adjustment,” Hazel says.

“That isn’t the only adjustment,” Ansel says with a grin.

“What’s that mean?” Maggie asks, always wanting to know what’s up. “Greta,” she says, tugging on our sister’s arm. “What does that mean?”

“It means, we won’t have an empty house after all,” she says with a smile. “I’m pregnant!”

“Oh my word!” Hazel squeals. Then Jessalyn begins to squawk and she grimaces, patting the sling I’m wearing. “Oops. Didn’t mean to wake the baby. But Greta!” she whispers-yells. “This is everything.”

“I know,” Greta sighs as our group of six, plus the stroller plus the baby in the sling, walk toward the flagpole. “It’s kinda perfect, actually. Ansel’s last book did so well, he is taking a year off and going to build an addition to the house. So there will be plenty of room.”

“You need an addition for one more baby?” Clive asks. “There’s an extra room in the attic, right?”

“Yeah. Except...” Greta stops walking. “We’re having more than one baby.”

“TWINS!?” Maggie’s eyes go wide, and she clutches Greta’s arm, stopping her in her tracks.

Greta laughs, telling her sister to stop being so dramatic as other families are entering the school yard. “You are insane.”

“No, baby,” Ansel says. “We are the insane ones.”

“True,” Greta agrees. “Because we are actually having triplets.”

I look at Hazel and see happiness pour from her. My wife longed for a real family for so long, and I know being here, in moments like this, are what she always hoped for. I take her hand in mine, kissing the back of it, our eyes meet and my love for her grows. We have so damn much to be thankful for.

After we all ingest the exciting news, and hugs and congratulations are offered, our families walk to the flagpole.

All our boys, Luke, Andrew, and Jackson, pose for photos with their older cousins, Milo and Lucy, who have been through the drill enough times to know that smiling is required. As is letting each of their aunties take as many photos as their Instagram feeds can handle (Spoiler Alert: A Lot.).

When the kindergarteners are dropped off at their classroom, there isn’t a dry eye in the hallway. Even us bearded mountain men are wiping our eyes as our little guys head off to make memories.

“We need to celebrate,” Maggie says. “Not only that we got our boys off to school, but that we are going to have three more babies in the family by the end of the school year.”

“Agreed. Where should we go?”

We all smile, knowing there is only one place in town to get the best treats. A shop that sells candy, cakes, and buns—fresh every day.

We head to Three Sisters to celebrate. I’m already imaging the warm-from-the-oven treats that will be waiting for me.

But that isn’t the only thing on my mind. I’m also imagining getting home, putting Jessalyn down for a nap, and ravishing my wife before I head to work later today.

Hazel and I are behind the others, and I pull her to me for a quick kiss. Her lips are so damn sweet, and I breathe her in, loving everything about her.

“What has you in such a good mood?” Hazel asks, our fingers laced together as we continue walking. “Did you hear about the triplets and suddenly get baby fever?”

I laugh. “No. I think Jessa is plenty for now.” I look down at my baby girl, snug against my chest. How the hell did a man like me end up with so damn much?

“Then what is it, Clive?”

“I was thinking about you and me … after we get breakfast.”

“Oh?” She turns her head and our eyes meet. “And what were you thinking, exactly?” She licks her lips, though, and I know the exact same thing is on her pretty little mind.

“Not sure I can talk about it in a public place, wife,” I say, patting her ass suggestively, not caring if anyone is behind us sees. Truth is, I want the whole damn world to know that Hazel is mine, and that I am hers. Now and for always.

“I see,” she says, a smile playing on her pink lips. “Would you like me to grab some sprinkles and some chocolate sauce before we leave the shop?”

I lift my eyebrows. “You plan on making a sundae?”

She shakes her head. “Not really.” Then she leans over and covers Jessalyn’s ears, whispering, “Mostly I plan on licking your ice cream cone.”

We both crack up, but at the same time, there is plenty of truth in my wife’s flirty words. She always delivers.

“Someone say ice cream?” Maggie asks, turning around, apparently having heard the last of Hazel’s delicious words. Thank God she didn’t hear any more.

“Mmhhhmm,” Hazel says without giving a thing away. “I wondered about expanding our business. A soda fountain maybe?”

“I love it!” Maggie’s eyes are bright with ideas already swirling round her mind as she leans forward and begins telling Greta about it.

Hazel and I share a laugh, and hell, maybe the ladies will expand. God knows there is no such thing as too many sweets.

But as we walk hand in hand toward Main Street, with the ice-capped mountains on the horizon and a blue sky overhead, I know that while the bakery has delicious desserts, the real frosting of life doesn’t come from sugar and spice and everything nice.

It comes from homespun hugs and heart-shaped kisses.

It comes from finding true love and holding on tight.