Shane

Three Years Later

I really am the luckiest bastard in the world.

Makena is sitting on the floor beside our son, helping him stack colored blocks on top of each other. But Kieran seems more intrigued by tearing them down than building them up.

I chuckle when he uses the mini-sized Ferrari I got him to knock down the blocks. He’ll be two next week, and even though he’s only been part of our family for a few months, I can’t imagine our life without him.

I never thought I’d consider adopting. Hell, I never thought I’d be a father. There are some days, most of them, if I’m honest with myself, that I still don’t know what I’m doing. But Makena is a natural mother. And even though the first year and a half of our little boy’s life was less than ideal, he’s already starting to blossom under her care and love.

“Crash, Mama,” Kieran says, clapping his hands when he knocks the blocks down again. “More. More.”

Makena laughs and starts to build the tower again. She holds up a block and asks him, “What color is this?”

“Blue.” Everything is blue to him.

“Red,” she corrects, placing it on top of another block, then holding up a blue block. “This is blue.”

“Blue. Blue. Blue.” He does a sort of squat-like jump, then wraps his arms around Makena’s neck in a bear hug.

At the same moment, the front door opens and a clamor of people come sweeping into the house.

Cadence runs ahead of Emer, who holds the newest addition of the Wild Irish clan, a little boy they welcomed into the world two weeks ago. Aiden follows behind, juggling the diaper bag and some type of contraption that looks like a cross between a bassinet and a swing in one arm, and their one-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Melody, in the other.

I chuckle at the sight. Already, the noise level has increased ten-fold, and we only have half the clan here.

Cillian comes in with Axel on his shoulders, and a very pregnant Delaney following behind him.

Both of our moms, who’ve been here since early this morning preparing Christmas dinner, come out of the kitchen. They’ve been living together for a couple years now, and I’ve never seen my mom happier.

I see the secret glance they give each other before going in different directions, and I let out a small sigh, glad that she’s found someone other than her children to finally share her life with.

My mom takes Melody from Aiden’s arms, then starts around the room, inspecting the other younger members of our unconventional family.

Owen and Bree are the last to arrive, which isn’t unusual these days, or unexpected. Their two identical three-month-old twin girls announce their arrival with matching high-pitched wails as they walk through the door.

“Sorry,” Bree says, looking utterly exhausted, but at the same time never happier. “Do you mind if I use one of the spare rooms to feed them?”

“Third door on the left,” I say, even though I know she doesn’t need directions. She’s here as much as Delaney and Emer.

Owen follows her down the hall, returning a few minutes later and taking the shot of scotch I offer him.

“How’s Bree doing?”

“Tired. We both are. But the girls’ slept through the night for the first time last night. A whole six hours.”

“I’m so jealous,” Emer says, rocking her little boy in her arms.

The conversation continues. Diapers. Formula. Best and worst toys. Helpful baby books. All the things I used to groan about. But this life, while different from the world of screaming fans and paparazzi, has grown on me.

Recently, the guys and I have found a way to still find time to make music.

We sold the label a couple years ago. I used my share of the profit to buy The Shamrock. Tommy had been wanting to sell for years, and I gave him a large chunk more than the decrepit building was worth. But I thought it was the least I could do for all the times he used to let us jam there when we were kids.

I closed the restaurant down, but we do open on occasion for local bands to play, or put on a surprise show ourselves. But mostly we use it as a recording studio, and a place to work on new material.

It’s enough. More than enough.

I don’t know if we’ll ever go on tour again. But I’m okay with it. I’ve got my music. But, more importantly, I have Makena.

And now Kieran.

I glance at my son, who’s currently in a tug of war with Axel over one of his mini cars.

Cillian steps in before I have to, and it only takes a few seconds before they’re jumping on him, tackling him playfully. Cadence, seeing an opening, jumps in.

Cillian grunts at the impact, and I chuckle.

A warm hand twines with mine, and I look down at Makena, who’s smiling up at me. “You seem pensive.”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“How lucky I am.” I wrap my arms around her waist and draw her close, both of us looking over to where Cadence, Axel, and Kieran are begging Cillian for a turn to be tossed up in the air.

The three of them together are already trouble. I can’t imagine what life will be like when the younger ones start walking and talking. Or, God forbid, when they’re all teenagers.

I clamp the groan down that forms in my throat.

“Could you handle another one?” Makena asks, her eyes glittering with mischief.

I blink down at her.

“Another kid?” We’d talked about adopting again, but we’d both agreed to give Kieran some time to adjust before we did.

She nods, something flickering in her dark eyes. I’m struck by how beautiful she is. She still takes my breath away.

“I’ll do whatever makes ye happy.” I pull her tighter. “Ye know that.”

A grin tugs at her lips. “Good.”

I raise a brow at her. “Good?”

Her palms are on my chest and her eyes sparkle when she says, “I was thinking this time…a baby.”

“A baby?”

“Mhm. In about six months.”

I frown down at her, because it took us over a year to be matched with Kieran. “I’m not sure that’ll be possible.”

“There are a lot of things I never thought possible.” A tear slips down her cheek.

I wipe it away with my thumb, suddenly worried. “What’s wrong?”

She lets out a shaky little laugh, then places a hand on my cheek and goes on tiptoe to whisper in my ear, “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” I must say it a little too loudly, because the room goes silent and even the kids look over at me. “But how?”

“Do I really need to give you a lesson on how it works?” She laughs, clearly teasing me.

“Ye’re pregnant,” I repeat, my chest swelling with emotion. I curl my fingers in her hair and crush my lips against hers, kissing her hard, until the room erupts in laughter and cheers.

This is life.

Living.

Family.

Looking forward to tomorrow, without any fears.

We’ve found our happiness.

Each one of us.

And now the journey begins to make sure we spend each day savoring that happiness and never letting it slip away.