Ronan’s palm slides along my side until it rests over my heart. “We love you too,” he says, his voice steady. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Emerson leans in and kisses my forehead, his touch gentle. “You drive us crazy, you know that?” His smile is faint, tugging at the corner of his lips. “But I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”
For a while, none of us moves. We just lie there, tangled and quiet, the morning stretching out around us like a secret. The kind that belongs only to us.
Eventually, Emerson pushes himself up with a soft groan, rubbing the back of his neck. The sheet slips low on his hips, and he runs a hand through his hair, already looking more awake than the rest of us.
“I’m gonna check on Kimber,” he says after a beat, his voice gentler now. “See how she’s holding up.”
Rowan nods, eyes still half-lidded. “She’ll be fine, but yeah, she needs you.”
I reach for Emerson’s hand before he can leave the bed, giving it a squeeze. “Tell her I said I’m here for her,” I whisper.
He smiles down at me, the kind that softens all the sharp edges in him. “I will,” he says, then leans in for one last kiss, slow and tender. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’m not,” I promise.
He rises and stretches, the morning light tracing the lines of his back as muscle shifts beneath skin. There’s no rush to him—every movement easy, self-assured, impossible not to notice. He pulls on a pair of shorts, catches me watching, and flashes a quick, playful wink that sends warmth blooming across my cheeks. Then he heads for the door, footsteps soft as he slips out, taking the lingering heat of the moment with him and leaving behind a quietthat feels almost too gentle to disturb—peaceful in a way that makes me wary of how much I want to hold on to it.
The morning drifts slowly, sunlight spilling across tangled sheets and warm skin. The twins flank me on either side, both too comfortable to move. Rowan’s fingers trace lazy circles along my arm while Ronan’s hand rests possessively on my thigh, his thumb stroking in a rhythm that matches the quiet pulse in the room. The air hums with a quiet, drowsy calm—an unfamiliar kind of peace after what we’ve lived through.
I know I should get up. Today isn’t meant for lingering—it’s the day we start drawing Bryce closer, tightening the line, and figuring out where Dean vanished to. But for a moment longer, I let myself stay still, wrapped in their warmth, breathing them in before the world demands my attention.
Rowan murmurs against my hair. “We could stay like this forever, you know.”
Ronan snorts lightly. “You’d get hungry first.”
I laugh, turning just enough to meet his grin. “You’re probably right. And someone has to make sure you two don’t live off protein shakes and takeout.” With a groan, I push myself up, stretching until my back pops. Both twins make the same sound of protest, one playful, one serious. “Come on,” I say with a teasing smile as I slide from the bed. “If we’re going to start a war today, we might as well eat first.”
By the time we make it to the kitchen, the morning has settled into the house. Sunlight spills through the wide windows, washing the countertops in soft gold. I move through the space oninstinct—pulling ingredients from the fridge, setting a pan on the burner, letting the familiar rhythm take over. Behind me, the twins drift in without a word, quiet footsteps crossing the tile, barstools scraping softly as they take their seats at the island, content to watch.
“Now this,” Rowan punctuates, his voice amused, “is better than any damn movie.”
Ronan hums his agreement, his gaze tracking my movements. “Can’t blame us for appreciating the view.”
I toss him a look over my shoulder, feigning annoyance even as my lips twitch. “You two could always help, you know.”
“Help?” Rowan leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “You’ve got this handled. We’re just here for moral support.”
Ronan’s grin turns wicked. “And for the show.”
Heat creeps up my neck despite myself. I turn back to the stove, stirring the eggs a little too quickly. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s one word for it,” Ronan says, his tone dipping lower. “You’d look even better doing this with a belly, you know.”
The spatula stills in my hand. I blink, half turning toward him. “A belly?”
His smirk deepens, unbothered. “Yeah. Barefoot, messy hair, feeding us breakfast while you grow something that’s ours.”
Rowan groans, head in his hand, chuckling. “You really went there, didn’t you?”
Ronan just shrugs, unrepentant. “What? Tell me I’m wrong.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks, part surprise and part anticipation I hadn’t seen coming. “You two are trouble,” I murmur, the words edged with fondness even as my voice betrays me by going soft.
Rowan rises, walking around the island until he’s behind me, his hands sliding over my hips to cup my belly. “He’s not wrong,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. “You’d be beautiful with our baby.”
I let out a shaky breath, my heart tripping over itself before a smile breaks free. “Breakfast first,” I say, managing to keep my voice steady. “Then world domination. We can rehearse the baby part until we’re ready.”