“Daddy!” Dylan grumbled. The lad shook his head and looked at him crossly. Cam schooled his face not to grin.

“What?” he asked. “You look fine.”

“Fix buddins, Daddy.”

Buddins. Cam smiled. This was one of those perfect memories he wanted to cling to—the way Dylan said buttons and pillows. He knew the boy would grow out of his adorable toddler talk, which made every time he said those words special.

He turned Dylan to face him and examined the buttons on his shirt, and goddammit if they weren’t fucked up and askew. The kid was close to being fastidious about his clothes. Oh, he had no problem trashing an outfit with dirt or finger paint, but that didn’t mean he was a sloppy dresser.

As he undid all the buttons and started again, Cam mumbled that despite being an awful lot like Uncle Alex, this was one area where they differed. The Major dressed like a colorblind ten-year-old while Dylan pulled off more of a St. John vibe.

Today, he and his son were dressed identically in black pants and a white button-down shirt. Meghan was on another tear about family portraits, and she wanted the men wearing white shirts for today’s session. He didn’t mind at all. In fact, it was Red’s photography skills that helped get him hooked too. He was constantly snapping pictures and was trying his hand at Photoshop.

When Dylan was properly buttoned and his hair in place, Cam gave his bottom a little pat and turned him toward the mirror. He’d stood his precocious son on the low bathroom vanity between the sinks in the master bathroom. Their reflection was semi-hilarious with his larger, muscled body next to his two-year-old son’s toddler swagger.

Lacey was going to swoon.

They fist-bumped, and Cam drawled, “The Cameron men make this look good.”

Dylan agreed with a jerky head nod. “Look good!”

Cam held his hand tightly and helped him leap to the floor.

Lacey and sweet Lily Rose were in the master bedroom. His wife was putting the finishing touches on their outfits. With the men in white shirts, it was up to the ladies to bring some color. Meghan wanted the girls in red, so red it was.

Sliding a red headband on Lily’s little head, she adjusted the cluster of snowflakes that embellished the baby accessory.

“What do you think, boys? Hmm? Is Lily an angel in red?”

Dylan scampered to his sister and kissed her face. “Pretty like Mommy.”

His Ponytail beamed at their son’s pronouncement. From Dyl’s first meeting with his baby sister, he’d declared the same. Now those three words had a life of their own. A life that made his young wife very happy.

“And what about you, Mr. Cameron? Nothing to say? Just going to let your son do the honors?” She shook her head and pouted. “Don’t you like this dress?” She smiled slyly. “You paid a fortune for it.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “I know. Got the credit card bill.” He tsk’ed playfully. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to work this one off.”

She giggled and sighed. “Is that all you ever think about?”

“Pretty, pretty, pretty much,” he teased.

Her hands went to her waist. He grinned. She arched one brow. Then he chuckled.

“Um, excuse me, you. Still waiting.” She pirouetted and held out her arms. “Nothing?”

Cam took a long, slow, delicious look at her outfit. She was a vision of blond beauty in a red dress that bared her shoulders but was still modest. The short, swingy skirt and shoes dyed to match were exactly the look Meghan was going for.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful.” There wasn’t anything else worth saying.

She smiled happily. “Don’t my boys look handsome,” she exclaimed.

They gazed at one another. His heart soared with love for his family.

“Well, okay then,” he said in a comical voice that made Dyl giggle. “Let’s do this. Aunt Meghan controls the family Christmas card, so everyone remember to smile and say cheese!”

“How do I look?” Matty hollered despite her and Roman standing only three feet away.

Kelly did a slow-moving circular inspection—checking him out from every angle.

Was her little boy dressed exactly like Roman? Yes. Right down to a watch on his wrist, and unless she was hallucinating, Matty was also rocking cologne.

The one difference in their wardrobe was Roman’s tie. Matty had a cute little boy’s bow tie in black, but Roman chose to wear his scarlet tie. The fact that it was in his suitcase meant he planned to wear it.

“I’m liking the shoes,” she declared to the worried boy.

“What’re they called, Dad?” Matty asked.

“Oxfords,” Roman answered. “They come in many styles, and it’s always a good idea to have a few different pairs in your closet.”

She bit her lip to stop the laughter bubbling to the surface. Something was charming and adorable and sexy hot about her man sharing sartorial tips with their preschooler.

“I like your dress, Kiki,” Matty boldly stated with little boy confidence. “You look pretty. Doesn’t she, Dad?”

Matty was currently racking up hash marks on a scorecard for the number of times he could say the word dad in any given day.

Roman’s undisguised leer went right over the kid’s head—thank god.

“She looks like a candy cane. Yummy and ready to eat.” He wagged his tongue for emphasis.

The compliment helped steady her nerves. Family portraits and cutesy Christmas cards weren’t things she had any experience with. Fretting about Liam’s reaction to her and Matty and Roman being part of the Family Justice holiday card, she was mentally cranking out a way to do something similar on the other side of the country when they returned home. It’d probably make her brother crazy happy if she planned something formal, and Rhiann would be all over it in a heartbeat.

Considering Liam’s feelings was a new wrinkle in her emotional makeup. He’d been a right royal dick about Matty being in Arizona for Halloween. He pouted like a two-year-old about missing out on the costume ritual, and she tried to explain how impossible he was being. Matty needed to be with his friends, and that meant wherever Miss Bella Mia Jensen currently resided. Mr. Control Freak Ashforth finally relented when she pithily suggested he coordinate his emotional expectations with Matthew’s busy social schedule. In short, next year if he wanted to play dress-up, he’d have to do it in Bendover.

“Where’s my jacket?” Matty yelped. He looked around and didn’t see it.

“Matthew,” Roman drawled. “Think. We don’t throw our good clothes around, so where did we put it?”

“Oh, right.” Matty laughed. “On that thing. There’s a hanger and a rail to put pants and a place for my watch.”

“It’s called a valet.”

Kelly rolled her eyes. The valet Roman referred to was an example of how Matty’s life was being shaped by powerful, opinionated men. Teaching the kid what the difference was between play or school clothes and a suit and tie was such a guy thing. She was glad Matty had Roman and Liam to guide him.

“Run along, little dude, while I kiss Kiki and tell her how pretty she is.”

“Okay,” Matty agreed. “But hurry, kay?”

He ran to his room, making enough noise for a pack of kids.

Roman took her hand and spun her around. She laughed and deftly danced into his arms. She liked swaying back and forth with him. The way his arms folded around her and the look in his eyes never failed to touch her emotions.

“I have to thank Meghan for giving me another chance to spoil my scarlet lady. The color brings out your wanton side.”

Bwah! She didn’t need help to access her inner bad girl. Still, he might be onto something. When she realized he brought his scarlet tie, she worked up some fairly hot scenarios, and it made picking out a suitable dress a challenge. She wanted to be beautiful without being obvious. The pretty red and white outfit she found during her Phoenix shopping spree made her feel pretty. It wasn’t fancy and didn’t have a designer label. It caught her eye, and that was that.

“I think it is you who brings out my wanton side.” He grinned at her words. A heated blush crawled up her neck, and she blurted out the words on the tip of her tongue. “Whenever we go out, I dress for you.”

The admission was uncharacteristic. She did what she pleased—always had and always will. She had more than earned the right, but Roman opened her world. He helped her explore who she was once her mother’s damaging bullshit was relegated to the past. Through his love, she found confidence she thought she already had until sharing her heart with another elevated every thought and feeling she ever had.

His palms cupped her face. She rubbed her cheek against his warmth. Before he could say it, she got there first.

“I love you so much, Roman. You changed my life.”

He kissed her tenderly without the carnal passion that defined their sex life. She liked this side of her man. He had a huge heart, and his willingness to be a father as well as a husband touched her deeply. Men like Roman Bishop were rare.

“You are my love, my life, my reason to live. We changed each other, amore.”

“I love our family,” she quickly admitted. “All of it. Everyone here, and everyone in New York.”

Roman held her and smiled into her eyes. “God willing, this is just the beginning, Kelly. We’re just getting started.”

She hugged him tightly. God willing. Tough words for her to embrace while a threat hung over their heads, but she had to have faith that Justice knew what they were doing. There was a lot riding on them.

Tori adjusted Ryder’s outfit. His long-sleeve white sweater looked adorable with the suspenders. They matched what Danny was wearing.

She kissed her baby’s chubby cheeks and tugged on his toes. “You look so handsome,” she assured the three-and-a-half-month-old.

Draegyn came marching into the living room clutching Danny. He marched toward her and stopped a few feet away.

“Go on,” he told their son. “Tell Mommy what you said.”

Danny shook his head.

“Daniel!” Draegyn pointedly said, “Tell Mommy.”

Her gorgeous and very naughty firstborn was trying hard not to laugh. He ducked his head with the worst case of mock penance she’d ever seen and proudly parroted what got him in trouble.

“Fuckn shit.”

She gasped and stomped her foot. “Daniel Alexander St. John. What has Mommy said about bad words?”

Danny pointed at his father. “Daddy said first.”

Oh, my god! Her son just threw Daddy under the bus.

Draegyn jolted and tried to explain. “It was a private conversation.”

She smacked his arm after he put Danny down. “There are no private anythings when kids are around. What’s wrong with you?”

He grinned, shrugged, performed some completely disingenuous golly gosh nonsense, and then tried to feel her up because that was what her dangerously sexy husband always did.

“Behave, Draegyn.” She stepped back and inspected her handsome hubs. He followed the dress code and donned a crisp white shirt but said fuck no to the suspenders. He insisted casual was his new look, undid a button or two at his throat, and flashed her a devastatingly sexy “devil may care” smirk.

Then she inspected Danny. His button-down shirt tucked into a pair of adorable toddler suspender pants. The cute outfit came with a bow tie, but word had it that the older boys, Matty and Paul, were wearing bow ties, so she kept her family’s look on the casual side. Her simple red dress was what her beauty queen mother called a delayed reaction seduction. The crossover dress flaunted her boobs and disguised her baby pooch. She added a pair of delicious heels and went for a full face of makeup. After looking at her all day, Draegyn would be on fire hours from now.

They made a handsome family.

Their lives were blessed.

Each day brought new happiness.

Tori said a silent prayer to the heavens above, asking for good luck, fair skies, and decades filled with more days of love.

“Maybe we should have done valet parking,” Alex joked. “Why are there so damn many cars?”

“Simple,” Meghan quipped. “I picked the one time and place that was most inconvenient for everyone. And by adding the animals to the pictures, that meant most everyone arrived with multiple cars.”

She moved around the nursery with astonishing speed. He wanted to tell her she reminded him of the Flash but concluded she wouldn’t find the comparison funny.

Whirling to face him with Aiden’s onesie in the hand she gestured with, his multitasking wife stayed on topic. “And the sheer number of people and pets was exactly why we couldn’t all squeeze into the chapel. I would have liked that. The interior would make such a lovely Christmas card.”

“I have an idea. Why don’t we ask Cam to do some family shots at the chapel? In December. When the twins are seven months old. We can frame something for the folks.”

Sultry green eyes and a big smile indicated her pleasure at his suggestion. “We can wear Santa hats.”

Alex smiled, thinking about it. Aiden and Stevie’s first Christmas. Sometimes, he had to pinch himself just to make sure all of this was real.

“If I haul out a Santa suit, will you sit on my lap and tell me all the ways you’ve been a good girl this year?”

The onesie sailed through the air and landed on his shoulder. “Dirty Santa, you mean?”

He let his grin develop slowly. She gave him a look but couldn’t stop her smile.

“I was thinking more like Beast Santa. I think that’s more your style.”

Meghan stomped her foot and scolded him. “Don’t tease, Alex. I’m stressed out and overwhelmed. You know damn well now all I’ll be thinking about is Beast Santa.”

For shits and giggles, he chased her around the nursery, growling like a lion. She yelped and stayed just out of his reach.

“Enough!” Her hand went up like a stop sign. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s just get the pictures over with, then sit down and eat and enjoy our friends and family. After everyone leaves and the babies are in bed, we can discuss your shapeshifting beast proposal.”

Her language cracked him up. “You’re right, I know. Business first. The picture is important to you, which means it’s important to me. Let’s get the show on the road. Duke has offered to accompany Zeus. We don’t want her to get too excited while she’s recuperating.”

“I want her with us. She’s family.”

Had he said otherwise? Of course not but his wife’s pout whenever the dog was mentioned just showed how much she loved his black Labrador.

“Shall we?” he asked with his elbow cocked for her to slide her arm through. She came to his side and ran her fingers through his hair to move it off his forehead.

The velvet dress she chose for the picture was temptation times a hundred. His wife’s lush body in a curve-hugging dress was guaranteed to give him an erection. Earlier, she went into female-oriented detail about sweetheart necklines, fitted bodices, and empire styling while he pretended to listen and ogled her boobs.

“Have I said yet how fantastic you look? That dress elevates your MILF status.”

A fast swat to his butt took him by surprise. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks, Alex. I only care what you think.”

“And I think bending you over the end of the bed in that dress so I can admire your mind-blowing ass is a definite maybe.”

Aiden’s Tarzan lungs let them know they’d better get a move on. The house was filling with people and dogs. The excitement was high. He escorted his gorgeous wife down the main staircase. She clung to his arm and did him proud.

“If I eat anything else, you'll have to carry me,” Angie teased. “The cheesecake put me over.”

“They were mini-bites,” Parker reminded her with some husbandly shade. “Nowhere did it say you had to eat a double handful.”

“Shut up,” she giggle-grumbled. “You got me pregnant.”

“Is that your way of explaining why you ate everything from your plate before moving to mine? I knocked you up?”

“I’m eating for two, and your daughter likes tasty things.”

He loved hearing that. Caressing their bump, he gazed into her eyes and lost himself for a moment. The moment ended when Snooki decided to burp. She was smooshed between them on the swing in the Villa’s courtyard. It was their special place.

“Oops, my bad.” She giggled. “I gave her a piece of garlic bread. Just a tiny corner but whew.” She snorted while trying to fan the air.

Parker studied the damn dog. She was wearing a fancy doggie collar with actual Christmas lights, and a red bow was stuck to her head.

“We’re heading out, you two,” Uncle Cris called from the doorway. “Mom wants to say goodbye, but she got waylaid by Calder.”

Angie waved. “It’s fine, Dad. You guys go on. Tell Mom I’ll call tomorrow about the crib sheets. She found a deal somewhere or something.”

“You got it, sweetie pie. See ya later. Parker? Your mom is looking for you.”

He murmured, “Uh-oh. I wonder what I did now.”

Angie snorted. Her laughter filled his heart. He started to say something, but Alex came marching into the courtyard carrying Zeus.

Snooki sat up and yipped her devious little heart out. She knew that Zeus was the alpha in their strange pack of mutts. Bow down to the black Labrador or dig a patch of dry desert to shit in.

“She needs to see her buds,” Alex said with a pained grunt as he gently lowered her onto the swing seat next to Angie.

“Are you okay?” she quickly asked.

He quickly kissed her on the forehead. “I’m fine. Too much of a whole lot of too much, and you know how that goes.”

Parker watched for a moment as Snooki and Zeus rubbed noses, and Angie fussed over the canine opposites. She spoke quietly to Alex. He pulled an ottoman close and sat in front of the swing. Assured the siblings were having a private moment, he left them to go find out what was on his mom’s mind.

“Alex,” Ang murmured. With one dog on either side of her, she was scratching Zeus’s head and stroking Snooki at the same time.

“Mmm?” he replied. His hand glided along Zeus’s shiny black coat. She was looking at him with eyes full of doggie love, so he bent forward, held her face, and kissed her repeatedly.

“I don’t want to rock the boat or anything, but can I say something without you freaking out?”

Out of habit, he arched a brow, then squinted at his sister’s face and sighed. Once a handful, always a handful, but she didn’t usually state her boat-rocking proclivities up front. This must mean she had something out of the ordinary on her mind.

Her voice sounded tired, and he could tell that the long day of family togetherness was taking its toll. Remembering Meghan’s last month of pregnancy was all he needed to spur him to take hold of her hand and gently squeeze. Angie came off like a badass, but she didn’t fool him.

“I don’t necessarily enjoy hearing that you think I’m prone to freaking out, but you have the upper hand right now, so Imma let that pass.” He smiled and winked. She tried giving him a droll look, but the merriment in her expression robbed the moment of any censure. “What’s going on in that head, hmm? Talk to me, sis.”

In true Angelina style, she went from a leisurely stroll to driving a hundred miles an hour and jumped in with a little speech that was definitely unrehearsed but surprisingly coherent. And since he knew his youngest sibling so well, he noted that she started off in a reasonable voice that got snippier with every word coming out of her mouth.

“Please don’t blow me off as hormonal. I’m about done with that being the daily overview.” She patted her belly and pursed her lips.

It wasn’t just Angie. In his experience, all women truly hated being dismissed by that one word. When you go through a year like the one they just had, where so many of the women were pregnant around the same time, a guy learned a lot.

He was a dick and knew it—most of the time. But never in his life had anyone ever accused him of being hormonal. Only an asshole wouldn’t see how patently unfair it was to have this one snarky word available to fling around once a month or throughout a pregnancy.

Also, there was a tinge in her voice—something underlying—but he heard it, nonetheless. Instinct told him to pay attention.

“No blowing off. Gotcha,” he said half teasingly. “And scratch hormonal off the accepted word list. Done. Now, out with it, you little pain in my ass. What’s got your collar in a twisted knot?”

She punched his arm. “Shut up. Don’t make fun of my jewelry choices.”

He snickered. “Because it’s a choice, I’ll acquiesce. But if that fucker ever gets out of hand, just know I’ll personally knock his block off.”

“Ooh,” she quipped. “A dominant face-off? What fun! Meghan and I will make popcorn.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this,” he quickly mumbled, regretting his opening of this subject.

“You started it,” she reminded him.

“Actually, ya little twerp, you did. With that song the other night. Really, Ang? To sir? With love? You did realize, I hope, that both of your parents were right there.”

“Fuck off.” She chuckled. “It was sweet and romantic. That big lug was there for the crayons and the perfume, so I wasn’t saying anything that everybody didn’t already know.”

He kept his own counsel about how romantic he found her musical statement of love for Parker. It was fun razzing both of them—a brother’s prerogative—but deep inside, he respected the love between them. They’d weathered a mighty storm that lasted almost a decade yet still found each other when the timing was finally right. If finding each other included a D/s dynamic, he’d be the last one in any sort of position to comment.

He squeezed her hand one last time and sat back. “Give it to me. Just blurt it out, and I’ll piece your babbling together.”

Amazement moved in his senses when her expression grew taut. In less than a nanosecond, her face became a stony mask. Neither thing was normal for her.

“Does this have anything to do with what you wanted to say the other day? Sorry I had to cancel.”

His question stopped her dead. She stilled and grew even more serious. He could see her mind working and wondered what the fuck was going on.

“No. Uh …” She paused and looked to be weighing her response but blurted out, “No,” one more time.

“Are you sure? That didn’t feel like a fully formed response.”

She chewed her lip, petted Snooki, and looked everywhere in the courtyard but at him.

“Ang,” he grated. “What’s going on?”

“Okay,” she began with an abundance of caution in her voice. Caution that raised his awareness. “That was then, and this is now. I can’t deal with more than that.”

“All right. I’m listening.”

She didn’t dance around. It wasn’t her style. “I don’t like my security.”

His brows shot up. “You don’t like your security,” he repeated. “What does that mean?”

“It’s that woman. Agent Fuller. Alex, she creeps me out.”

The icons in his mind shifted until he found the one for Justice personnel. What did he know about this person?

Joanne Fuller. Baltimore PD She applied half a dozen times for the FBI, but they passed. Cam’s vetting uncovered why. She was relationship-compromised; a term that got used a lot these days. At the time, she was seeing someone with known ties to unfriendly adversaries. She broke it off in a last-ditch effort, but they moved on, and she was left to either spend twenty years moving up the ranks in a police department or go private. She chose the private, and that was how she ended up as part of the large security detail they’d put in place last year. A detail that had grown exponentially as the threat to Justice was revealed.

He asked the obvious. “How does she creep you out? Be specific, Angie. The woman is paid to creep people out, so I need to understand what’s bothering you.”

Everything she replied with only made the agent sound like a consummate professional. She watched Angie like a hawk. Every time his sister turned around, there she was. The woman had horrible hair, and Angie didn’t like the way the agent spoke to her.

Where was the problem?

“Are you asking me to reassign her?” Alex felt this was a reasonable assumption, but Angie’s reaction was far from rational.

“Goddammit, Alex. Are you daft? I just don’t like her. That’s all I’m saying. If you move her around, she’ll know it’s because I made a fuss.”

“Calm down,” he stupidly blurted out. She scowled so fiercely, he feared for his throat because she was eyeing it up for a ripping. “Sorry,” he lamely offered. “I’ll discuss the issue tomorrow with Duke. Maybe we can assign one of the new people to her team. As a ride-along thing. That way you won’t be alone with her. Does that help?”

Thank you,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry for being a pain.”

“You aren’t a pain,” he quickly assured her. “All of this is a lot of pressure, and I don’t want you upset or worried. I’ll handle it, okay?”

She opened her arms for a hug. He rose off the ottoman and leaned in.

“You just concentrate on bringing that baby into the world.” He kissed her head. “I’m serious, Angie. Focus on the baby and Parker. You’re almost to the finish line. Please don’t let the shit happening with Justice mar these last weeks.”

It was killing him that the family’s happiness was affected by stuff that never should see the light of day. He was sick and fucking tired of the past coming back around to chew on his ass, and it bothered him greatly that he was also certain the threat they all faced was coming from the very people who were supposed to uphold, protect, and defend.

Nothing pissed him off more than corrupt motherfuckers with secret personal agendas. Those people were a bigger danger to the country and the world than all the terrorists combined.

Parker dropped Snooki on the front seat next to Angie’s purse. He put a bottle of water in the cup holder and frowned at the fuzzball when she used his wife’s wrap as a bed.

Watching as Angie fumbled with the seat belt, he dashed around the car to the driver’s side to help.

“Here. Let me,” he told her as he took the buckle from her hand. Carefully arranging the safety device to accommodate their baby bump, he leaned in and secured the belt. She adjusted the strap across her chest and touched his face before he straightened.

“Your daughter is restless tonight,” she told him.

He stroked her belly and marveled at the movement his fingers detected. “I’ll sing to her when I get home. That always calms her down, right?”

His angel’s warm smile met his comment. It made his pregnant love happy when he toed the line and just assumed their baby was a girl. He was happy to oblige while at the same time working up a slew of puns and bad jokes for the delivery room should they be surprised by a boy.

“Yes, she loves when you sing. You’re such a good daddy,” she murmured lovingly.

Parker wanted to say a bunch of sappy shit about how during their long estrangement he never thought he’d be a dad. Not without her. It never felt right—none of it, no part of his life—while they were apart. A baby without Angie was just never, ever going to happen.

He kept all those thoughts and feelings inside. Not because they were secret or something his wife didn’t already know. He stayed silent because he could see she was exhausted and not everything was always about him.

“Go straight home,” he teased. “No stopping at Starbucks.”

“But I love the peppermint hot chocolate.”

He laughed and looked around furtively to make her giggle. “Don’t say that where Carmen can hear. She’d tan your hide and go off about the vats of cocoa she’s been making for you.”

“I know, right?” She chuckled. “Sophie can have the jelly beans. I’ve always been a sucker for candy canes. Mom and Dad handed them out like sacred objects. I remember gathering around the piano to sing Christmas songs and suck on a candy cane.”

She hummed a bit and then quietly sang the beginning of “The First Noel.” “What’s a girl to do when an evil coffee company combines fantastic cocoa and candy canes? I was doomed from the start.”

“Be that as it may, Mrs. Sullivan, I want you to go straight home. I’ll follow right along after Mom loads my car up with more baby paraphernalia. She’s gotten ridiculous.”

“Gotten?” Angie snorted. “Where’ve you been? She was off the reservation five minutes after we told your folks they were going to be grandparents. I’m honestly not sure if there’s any baby’s first Christmas stuff left in the whole state between my mom and yours grabbing everything they can find.”

He laughed and agreed. “The nightshirt with a wrapped present over your belly and Santa saying ‘Do not open till Christmas’ is a little much.”

“Princess Sullivan had damn well better stick to her ticket if you catch my meaning. She’s got a reservation for December fifteenth. One second beyond our due date and Imma be annoyed.”

Angie loved having a baby but being pregnant wasn’t a whole lot of fun. The only reason she enjoyed any part of the process was because of him. She got bitchy and all sorts of bent anytime he brought up the notion of a push present. She deserved whatever she wanted, but he fully understood why she hated the expression. It was tacky and unromantic, so his challenge was to find a way to spoil her rotten after the baby comes and do it without her feeling like she was being rewarded.

“She comes when she’s ready. That’s what the doctor said. And don’t forget, she might decide to be ready tonight or tomorrow, so we have to be prepared for anything.”

“Not tomorrow,” she squealed. “Heather and I are taking the girls for mani-pedis while Matty does some chess thing at the community center.”

Ah, he thought with considerable joy, the complicated mind of a woman. Only a date for salon pampering with two little girls would supersede the birth of their baby.

Parker leaned down for a kiss, shut her car door, and gave some last-second husbandly directives.

“The speed limit isn’t a suggestion. I don’t care that most of the way is on lonely backroads with no traffic. Keep your race car driver fantasies for another time. And no concert level radio. It’s dark now. Pay attention and get home safely.”

She saluted. “Aye aye, sir. Have no fear. The three of us will be safe and sound by the time you get home.”

“The three of you?”

She tsk’ed and shook her head melodramatically. “Yes, Parker. The three of us. Me, the baby, and Snooki.”

She rolled up the window and gave him a dry look as he stood back and laughed.

Her car pulled away, and he watched until the red lights were out of view. When she got to the security checkpoint, her security team would take it from there.

He turned back toward the house and went to find Ben so he could help Parker load the baby shit into his vehicle.