I'm too nervous to even fly down and get her myself.

Since Rogue and Mel have the new baby at home, we sent Lucas down to Juneau to pick up my new bride.

"I'm sorry, Bear," Melissa says to me sympathetically as I pace the living room floor of her and Rogue's home, "I was really hoping at least one of us could go when we picked her up."

Jackson and Pilot run through the room in a blur of holy terror and I can't tell if the boys are fighting or playing. Mel doesn't pay them much mind, so I figure whatever their yelling about is par for the course around this place.

"I know," I volunteer to take little Tundra from Mel and she gratefully takes me up on the offer so she can wash down the high chair.

"Hey Tuna baby," I coo at Mel and Rogue's 5 month old daughter. She's my favorite. Of course, she's also a baby and she thinks I'm the best thing in the world. I let her grab hold of my whiskers and pull as hard as she wants.

"Bear, we are not calling her 'Tuna'," Mel playfully scolds me from the sink.

"Well what kind of nickname goes with 'Tundra' then?"

I guess it's no surprise that a guy named "Rogue" would end up with a bunch of kids with weirdass names too. I think Jackson was Mel's choice but the boy's middle name is "Wild." "Pilot" only made sense, but "Tundra?"

I smile down at the 5 month old girl and shake my head at her, letting my nose brush against her soft little baby cheek and enjoying the way she giggles at me.

"We didn't really think that through," Mel admits sheepishly as she comes back and tries to take the little princess away from me. No such luck, I hoist Tuna up high in the air where her mom can't reach her, much to Tuna's delight.

Nah. I know I can't call her "Tuna" for long. It's a terrible nickname for a girl...unless she turns out to be a hell of an angler, but she's got a long ways to go before she's got enough weight on her to land a tuna.

"Maybe we could call her 'Tune?'" I suggest as I spin her in a circle.

Mel laughs at me and Tundra and takes advantage of the opportunity to sit down.

"So where is your man, anyway?" I ask.

Rogue wouldn't leave Mel long enough to go fetch my wife for me, so I'm kinda pissed that he isn't in the house with us doting on her like he normally does.

Melissa gives me an exasperated smile, "I told him we needed diapers and baby wipes."

"You sent him shopping?"

She nods, "I had to get him out of here. Bear, you know how he gets, it's been 5 months, Tune and I are good on our own," she says, trying out Tundra's new nickname.

I reluctantly hand Tuna back to her mom. It's what I've called her since they named her, it's gonna be a hard habit to break.

Yeah. I know how the boss gets. Every since Mel got pregnant with Jackson, it's the same story. Rogue goes into bodyguard mode. The first time it was cute, even Mel seemed to like it. When Pilot came along, it wasn't too bad. Well, it was bad, but he let up earlier.

Who knows, maybe it's cuz Tuna's his first girl but it's been almost half a year and Rogue's still hovering.

"Yeah, he gets a little crazy when you guys have a new little one, doesn't he?"

Melissa laughs and pokes her head down the hall, turning her ear to listen for the boys. I don't hear a damn thing, but I guess she's satisfied with whatever her mom hearing picks up cuz she nods and smiles and comes back to the living room and sits down.

"You will too," she tells me with a grin.

Shaking my head, I sit across from her, "Not like that," I assure her, "the man goes crazy."

Mel sets Tuna down on a little blanket that's spread out on the floor with a bunch of toys. Tuna's not quite mobile yet, but just about.

Sitting isn't doing my anxiety any favors so I get down on my hands and knees and join Tuna on the blanket.

"You might be worse," Melissa tells me with a soft laugh as she watches me play with her daughter.

All I do is shake my head again. No way.

My sister has a bunch of kids, they aren't such a mystery.

I plan on having lot of babies with my new wife-- Dorthy. Her name's Dorthy. Not Dor-o-thy, Dorthy.

Mel and Rogue say they knew she was the one as soon as they saw her file. Sasha, my sister, says she agreed with them right from the beginning.

I don't know much about her yet. My mind is a run away train, wondering what it is about her that my entire team is so certain she's the gal for me though.

Like, is it her looks? Is she tall, with a solid structure? Cuz I'm a big guy, 6 foot 6 in my stocking feet and damn near 300 pounds. All muscle, I pride myself on that, but I'm a big guy.

That's not why they call me "Bear" though-- it's a nickname my uncle gave me when I was little like Tuna is now. Mom always tells me I'm so big cuz I had to live up to the name.

I'd like a woman who's built strong. That doesn't feel like she's gonna break when I'm fucking her. Not saying I have to be rough all the time or nothin', but it'd be nice to be able to let go without worrying I'm hurtin' her.

And can handle the .50 cal or the 12 gauge without landing on her ass every time. Can haul fire wood and move the big rounds to the splitter.

Shit, life up here is demanding. Just holding the clutch in on the old truck is a bitch-- not something some prissy little city girl is likely to manage.

Or maybe she's outdoorsy already? Like, maybe she came up in Montana or up in Maine with lots of big game and she's no strangers to harsh winters.

All I know about my bride to be is that her name is Dorthy. She's 28 years old-- just a year younger than me-- and she's every bit as ready to get married and start making babies as I am.

Mel and I, and even baby Tuna all turn our heads toward the sound of voices engaged in conversation as the front door opens.

I recognize Rogue and Luke's voices but there's an unfamiliar female voice chatting easily with them and the sound of her laughter fills my ears like music.

I look up at Melissa and she beams down at me as she reaches to scoop Tundra off the floor. Mel gives me a little nod and I know that means that the pretty laugh belongs to the girl I get to marry.

By the time the group comes around the corner, I'm up on my feet trying to smooth down the wrinkles I've put in my dress trousers from crawling all over the floor with the baby, and wiping the sweat off my palms.

When I look up at the little wisp of a thing standing between Rogue and Lucas, giving me a hard glare, I don't know what to think.

She's tiny. Barely 5 foot if that and about as big around as my arm. She's got a mess of blonde curls all around her head that just makes her look that much smaller and her face is made of nothing but big blue eyes and soft pink lips.

Shit.

She's gorgeous.

Fragile as a fucking flower, but gorgeous.

There ain't no way this is the woman they think is meant to be mine and, from the look on her face, she's thinking the same damn thing.