Happy laughter filled the air as Alex watched his wife with a smile. She was rubbing Stephanie’s baby bump like a Buddha belly.

“I’m almost bigger than you are,” Meghan quipped.

Stephanie laughed. “Well, shugah,” she drawled. “My man’s not an overachiever like yours is. One bun in the oven is fine, thank you very much.”

Meghan turned to look at him. He saw love and mockery in her expression. “You’d think me being pregnant would be the story—but he’s a terrible attention hog. Had to knock me up with twins.”

Alex sniggered.

“Always with the B. M. O. C. thing,” Meghan drawled.

Stephanie looked confused. “B. M. O. C.?”

Beside him, his uncle chuckled and gave him an elbow shove.

His sexy as fuck wife swept her flowing mane of auburn curls over one shoulder and gestured with her chin in his direction.

“Big Man on Campus. King of the Hill. He Who Thinks He’s All That And Then Some.”

“That’s quite a mouthful,” Stephanie replied.

“Well”—Meghan sniffed—“you know how that goes.”

Both women fist bumped, whispered something he was sure was dirty, and then turned to look at him and Calder.

As always, Stephanie Bennett gave new meaning to the expression Fifty is the New Forty. Beautiful, glowing, and five months along, she smiled at his uncle and blushed.

“And that’s why I’m making his bachelor ass marry me.”

Calder’s amused chuckle said a lot about his feelings for the woman who had swept into his life and changed everything.

“I think she just implied she’s innocent in the whole baby-making thing.”

“You’re a bad man, Calder Dane,” she answered with a series of tummy pats.

Meghan cracked up laughing. “It’s in their DNA.”

Calder shook his head and murmured on an aside, “I’d better hurry along with the Alpha Balls. These two need a little discipline.”

The remark was so goddamn funny that Alex boomed with laughter. He was in the middle of elbowing Calder when a faint ripple of awareness skittered across his nerves. His gaze immediately focused on his wife.

It took less than a heartbeat for him to see the thin white line around her mouth gain intensity. Meghan’s hand shot out to lay flat on the kitchen counter. She wasn’t swaying, but he knew she was seconds from hitting the floor.

Moving at the speed of light, he had her in a chair and sipping some water before anyone blinked.

Tamping down the anxiety growing in his gut was Alex’s new normal. What his woman was going through to make the family they wanted so badly both humbled and pissed him off at the same time. Sometimes, the enormity of what a twin pregnancy meant for Meghan overwhelmed him so much that he just shut down. It was too much for him to take on—especially because, as the father-to-be, he was a total outsider. And boy, did that piss him the fuck off. He did not like the part where it took two of them and the blazing passion they shared to make new lives—only to spend the whole pregnancy feeling removed from the rest of the process.

But he couldn’t show any weakness. Couldn’t react. Not when she needed him so much. This wasn’t about him. He was fine even though the excess tension and fear that he was not only losing control but also totally helpless were making the shadows inside him swirl.

He saw Calder and Stephanie exchange worried looks and felt horrible. What just happened with Meghan looked bad, but it wasn’t necessarily how it appeared. She didn’t pass out. That wasn’t what this was, and they’d checked with the doctor several times for reassurance.

His wife experienced what Meghan called power outages. Sudden, unexpected energy drains—the exact opposite of a manic surge. And when one occurred, she said it felt like the strength in her body evaporated.

The doctor compared the sensation to flooring it in a car. How all the fuel quickly drained away as the pedal hit the metal. It only took a few seconds for her to empty and feel drained. Weak.

Their babies took so much—she gave so much. And him? He was powerless.

When Calder spoke, Alex heard the concern in his voice. “Maybe now isn’t such a good time to check out the chapel.”

Stephanie concurred. She was absently rubbing her belly and looking at Meghan. “He’s right. It’ll still be there next week.”

But as she usually did, his wife got her second wind and jumped right back into the game.

“Absolutely not,” she growled. “Everyone but me has made the trip down the backroad to the old homestead. It’s ridiculous. I’m fine. That’s what the bikes are for.”

He laid a hand gently on her shoulder. His badass wife hated nothing more than being told she couldn’t do something. He’d kept her away from the restoration so he could preserve the surprise. It wasn’t every day a guy took an old crumbling adobe home and had it painstakingly transformed into a small private chapel.

But his grand plan to do a spectacular reveal was blown away and overshadowed by the twins. Almost from the second they found out Meghan was carrying two babies, life, as they’d known it, changed.

Now, enough hours didn’t exist in the day for his busy wife to be a loving spouse, a concerned and involved friend, a businesswoman, and pregnant at the same time. She was overdoing it on a daily basis, and it required a shit-ton of husbandly involvement and outright interference to stay on top of things.

So he he maintained the husbandly road block and hadn’t taken the long walk to the new chapel yet. Calder and Stephanie’s wedding was just a week away, and Uncle Ed would arrive in two days. The holidays had passed, a new year was upon them, and Meghan had cooled her jets long enough.

Walking, however, was off the agenda. He liked holding hands as they strolled along, usually with Zeus at their side, so he missed their evening rambles. But Meghan’s remark that she was bigger than Stephanie wasn’t wrong, despite the other woman being a month ahead of her in the due date sweepstakes. Gestating two kids had a way of making a visual impact. And it seemed to him the second her belly bumped out and there was no doubt she was pregnant, her energy drained away.

So they rode bikes. Meghan, on her nifty three-wheeler with the cute market basket and handlebar bell, and he on his trusty old Schwinn.

Even if he thought she wasn’t up for it, he knew better than to throw his weight around. Nothing leveled the husband-wife dynamic faster than a pregnant, emotional wife.

The hand he had on her shoulder gently touched her neck. “I think we’ll be fine,” he assured them. “We’re only biking there and back.”

Being protective was one thing, but stupid was another. They arrived at Calder and Stephanie’s cabin in his big F-250 with their bikes secured in the back. That was as much of a concession as he would make.

Though his mockingly obedient wife was off the reservation due to the pregnancy, that didn’t mean she’d suddenly forgotten how and when to wield the enormous power her submission guaranteed.

When she spoke, her words teased, but he didn’t miss the snarky undertone or the naughty glint in her eyes.

“My lord and master takes such good care of me.”

It was Calder who reacted first. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Really?”

Alex growled, “Hey!” when his uncle playfully smacked his head from behind.

Calder grunted. “What in the hell’s the matter with you?”

Stephanie’s Southern twang and soft laugh joined in. “I think she’s what’s the matter with him.”

“There! See?” Alex barked as he and Calder circled around, throwing random slaps at each other. “It’s not me. Blame the redhead.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Meghan complained. “Is that what you’re telling our kids? Blame the redhead?”

“When exactly did I become the bad guy?” he asked.

Stephanie walked over to Meghan as she slowly stood. Two gorgeous pregnant women with hands on their swollen bellies smirked at him in answer.

“Oh, hold on a sec,” Calder blurted out. “I’ve got something for you.” He dashed to the kitchen nook and came back holding out a small box.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Just open it, Wolf Pup.”

Alex grinned at his uncle’s use of the nickname that was their private joke and tore into the unexpected gift like an ornery kid. When he realized what Calder was giving him, he held it up and gave a hearty chuckle.

“A Death Star coffee mug!”

“To replace the one Danny destroyed.”

Stephanie twined her arm through Meghan’s, and they laughed. “Not only did my grandson break your old one, but I heard he also flung it at your head and missed by an inch!”

“We might have to use the timing gun on him. See how fast he’s hurling,” Alex muttered.

Calder’s amused fist bump pretty much assured it would happen. The kid might only be a year old, but he had an arm that could put Tom Brady and Felix Hernandez in a panic.

Stuffing the very cool mug into his backpack, he double-checked to make sure he had the nibbles Carmen had shoved into his hands. He spied one of his wife’s favorite coconut water brands plus Carmen’s plastic container and relaxed. If nothing else, he was prepared.

He hung back with Calder as the women sauntered toward the front porch. One blonde and one redhead—both pregnant and radiant.

“You good?” Calder asked when they were out of earshot.

The snicker was involuntary. “I’m a fucking mess! Are you kidding? Twins, Unc.”

They nodded in unison. Calder asked, “How weird is it that both of us are navigating a high-risk pregnancy at the same time?”

Alex snorted and flung the backpack strap over one shoulder. “Yeah, but Stephanie is rocking that bump like a champ. Isn’t she more or less the case study for effortless pregnancy at fifty?”

Calder patted him on the back. “No joke, Wolf Pup. It’s been a dream. Not a single worry. Knock on wood. But Red’s doing all right, isn’t she? I know you’re worried, but she’s a sensible girl.”

“It’s been a lot to take on,” he mumbled.

“I know but news flash! Your wife is an overachiever at heart, and you’re not exactly a slacker in the badass department. When you look at it that way, it makes perfect sense that you’d start your family with a multiple birth! God has a sense of humor, ya know.”

“Good grief, man. You sound like Uncle Ed.”

They made it to the driveway just as Meghan was adjusting her sunhat. Stephanie stood off to the side with her phone, snapping pictures.

“Her Instagram is on fire these days.” Calder snickered. “Shit. We can’t have a meal without a food selfie and poor Danny. She can’t stop herself!”

“They mock us on their Justice Ladies page. You know that, right?”

“I’d say they’ve earned the right. Although Betty gave them all a good talking-to. No faces and no personal information.” Calder sniggered. “She made them sit through a presentation. Showed them a bunch of high-profile accounts that had great shares but drew a hard line around privacy.”

“And security,” he concurred. “They’re still making Duke mental.”

“It’ll change when the babies are here. Trust me. You’ve got Sarah Connor breathing fire at the end of the lane. Who knew Lacey could be such a hardass? And Victoria isn’t much better. She’s got the dog keeping an eye on Danny to the point where one of the security guys came by in a cart to do a check, and Raven chased him out of the driveway.”

Alex stood silent. They were all a little jumpy ever since the Feds whisked Cameron away with no warning. It still rankled the shit out of him that those motherfuckers drove onto his property like that. Securing the Villa and the private life of Family Justice was a new obsession. If he could, he’d station armed guards at every house. Guards who answered only to him.

“Thanks for the mug.” He gave his uncle a power hug.

Balancing on his Schwinn, he readjusted the backpack and remembered something he wanted to get clarified.

“Oh, hey. Ben said you’re picking Uncle Ed up from the airport. How come?”

“Ash is making me use my spider senses to see if he’s really doing okay or if he’s blowing incense smoke up everyone’s ass. There wasn’t a noogie or anything like that involved, but you know how your mother is. She’s worrying overtime, and Cris isn’t far behind.”

“So you’re taking him to Sedona? He’s staying with them, right?”

Stephanie chimed in. “Even though they have plenty of guest rooms, Cristián is showing off his new toy.”

“What?” Meghan said with a burst of laughter. “He’s staying in the RV?”

“Totally,” Calder said with snarky dryness.

Alex shook his head. “They did a challenge—Dad and Uncle Matt—to see who got to name their rig Desert Thunder. I think that fuck Parker messed with the results.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Stephanie pithily added, “Which is exactly why Ashleigh insisted on calling theirs the Death Star.”

“Oh, my god,” Meghan hooted. “This family! Desert Thunder and Death Star. I don’t even wanna know what kind of trouble they’ll be getting into.”

“You’re gonna know plenty,” he reminded her. “Last thing I heard from Dad was that your folks were throwing down with an RV rental in the fall so they can make a threesome.”

Everyone groaned at the bad pun.

“What?” he teased. “Come on, you guys. You know damn well that a threesome at the national parks is on your bucket list!”

“Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants. Let’s get this show on the road before I change my mind.” Meghan tsked and shook her head. “Threesomes. With my parents! Sheesh!”

* * *

She couldn’t help it. When they got off their bikes and walked to the door of the tiny chapel, Meghan burst into tears.

Her husband, of course, reacted as if he’d just done the dumbest thing of all time. “Oh, my god. Honey? What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

Like it? Holy crap. What could she possibly say? The crumbling adobe homestead belonging to the Valleja-Marquez family had been impossibly transformed into something … amazing.

He quickly ushered her into the dark, cool interior and made her sit. She clutched his hand and held it to her cheek as the tears streamed.

“What have you done, Alexander?”

He squatted next to her and searched her face. “Tori says bitches like romance, and romance requires gestures, so I figured you needed a chapel.”

She took his handsome face in her hands and locked eyes. “My wonderful, wonderful beast.”

Kissing him with heartfelt tenderness, she whispered close to his mouth as they drew apart, “You spoil me.”

His smirky grin let her know she’d said the right thing. Her alpha beast got off on spoiling her rotten.

“Let me open the shutters. Hold on.”

She watched him race around the small open space and push the covers off each window. Light flooded the room and made her gasp with pleasure. The building exuded an old-world charm that was a delight for the eyes.

Above their heads, sturdy beams crossed the ceiling. A Spanish-influence iron chandelier in the center of the room enhanced the rustic charm. What caught her eye and held her attention, however, was the arched niche at the back of the room that held a magnificently carved altar that looked to be hundreds of years old.

My babies will be christened here, she thought. And just like that, with nothing to prepare her for the enormity of the event, they moved inside her for the first time.

Quietly gasping, she touched her belly and looked at her husband. He was prattling on, offering a step-by-step retrospect of the restoration.

“Alex.”

He stopped, turned, and looked at her. The tiny lives inside her did a somersault when she felt his loving gaze sweep her from head to toe.

Unable to speak, she waved him over and took one of his hands. Laying it flat on one side of her bump, she whispered, “I think they approve, Daddy.”

Almost immediately, the fluttering turned to a pinball game in her womb with side to side movement that made her laugh with shocked delight.

The look of utter awe on her husband’s face would remain with her a long time. He raised her shirt and pushed the band of her stretch pants under her tummy. Then he kissed her belly twice—once for each baby.

His children answered his caress with a series of quick flutters.

When he pulled her shirt and pants back into place, Meghan saw the shimmer of tears on his cheeks. He stood and wiped his eyes.

“I have something for you.” Handing her a velvet pouch, he said, “Mom wants you to have this.”

Looking at him, she couldn’t decipher his expression and turned her attention to the pouch. She pulled on the braided strings to open the pouch and dumped the contents into her hand. A beautiful antique rosary draped around her fingers. Adorned with jet black beads and gold spacers, the delicate filigree accents and crucifix were stunning.

“It was Abuelita’s.”

Moved beyond words, she clutched the beads to her heart. “Oh, Alex.”

“And I want you to know that I’m okay with the whole going to church thing. From now on, we’ll be going as a family.” He smiled and offered a lazy shrug. “Uncle Ed says he can recertify my wayward ass—if I go to confession and make a giant donation.”

“Recertify,” she mumbled. “The man’s a genius.”

He laughed. “He’s an evil shit with powerful connections.” When he pointed heavenward and rolled his eyes, she giggled.

“Well, whatever he did, I’m thrilled.”

She slid the rosary into its pouch and stood. “Now, let’s have a little chat about swearing when we’re in here.”

“I’ll watch my fucking mouth after Father Eduardo does his sanctifying thing. Until then? Get real. Generations of foul-mouthed Valleja-Marquezs have lived here, and I’m sure even Abuelita’s rosary has heard its fair share.”

“Goddammit,” she muttered. “You boys are impossible. Dylan’s favorite word at the moment? Shithead. I thought Lacey was going to lose it when he said ass, but nope. Shithead coming out of her son’s mouth almost sent her ponytail up in flames.”

“I swear, babe. There’s practically nothing funnier than her exasperation with our language. God, I love that girl,” he ended on a murmur.

Meghan looked around the small chapel. She turned in a slow circle with her arms outstretched and imagined the power of spirits leftover from generations of her husband’s family tickling her fingertips. After a series of complete circles, she gathered the energy and stroked it gently on her belly.

Once satisfied, she sought her husband and found him standing before the carved altar. Supporting him while he made peace with the God of his youth so he could embrace that faith as an adult tested her at times. He carried a bottomless well of anger that sometimes spilled over into real life. She often wondered how different he’d be without the life-changing experiences of his warrior days.

Going to him, she moved in close and slid her fingers into his. He held tight and gave a small squeeze. “You’re a better man than you think, Alexander Marquez,” she told him with passionate assurance.

“I hope you’re right,” he replied quietly.

Knowing when to pivot was a wifely skill she was getting better and better at. Alex sharing his inner uncertainty and the feelings around it came in short spurts. Men struggled with introspection—even during the best of times.

“Oh, I just thought of something.” She held tight to his hand but looked up, down, and around. “Parker’s Gibson will sound fantastic in here.”

Alex glanced around as he considered her observation. “You’re right. The Jimmy Page special can fill this space with incredible sound—no problem.”

“Thought of something else, too,” she added.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She twined her arms around his neck, pressed into him, and absorbed the warmth of his body. “You’ll be suited up. You know how hot the black tie thing looks on you.”

He chuckled and took some lovely liberties with her ass. “Is that your way of saying Imma get some? Like wedding date sex?”

“Tori was demonstrating how to use a formal satin bow tie for nefarious purposes. She assigned homework.”

“Homework!” he boomed with surprised laughter. “I can barely with you girls.”

She smiled and kissed his lips. “Well, I can barely is an improvement on I can’t even, so I’m taking it as a win.”

“I love your sassy Irish ass so damn much.”

“Yeah.” She snickered. “So you keep saying.”

He gasped and gave her an outraged smirk. “Is that a diss, wife? Are you calling me out for ass-hyperbole?”

She cracked up. “What the hell is ass-hyperbole?”

“Fuck if I know,” he answered with a laugh. “It sounded great in my head, though.”

“There is something so wrong with us.” Meghan chuckled.

He toyed with her hair and kissed her nose. “I had this whole crazy plan to unveil the chapel in a grand gesture.”

She shushed him in a hurry before the negative grind in his head ruined her mood.

“I’m glad we waited, and I’m glad it’s just us,” she said with a belly pat. “And having the kids weigh in made your wonderful surprise more better.”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh at her fucked-up language—exactly why she said what she did.

“More better, huh?”

“Mmmhmm,” she murmured.

“What am I going to do with you, Mrs. Marquez?”

“Well, husband. I can think of a couple of things you could do, starting with breaking out the snacks I know damn well Carmen sent along.”

He retrieved his pack, cracking open a coconut water and the container of treats. Sitting on a wooden bench, they babbled for an hour, telling stories, making wishes, and talking about everything from the color of the Team Justice baseball jerseys to what they should do about Sophie’s belligerent refusal to live at the Villa.

Meghan was blessed with this life. Blessed to have the love, support, and fidelity of the amazing man she married. Blessed to be carrying his babies. She knew life wasn’t always going to be perfect, but she couldn’t worry about stuff like that. Not when the moments that make up her everyday were so unique and fulfilling.

There was no doubt about it. She had little —if anything—to complain about.