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I wrinkle my nose and take a playful step back. “You guys reek,” I tease, waving my hand in front of my face. “How’d the game go?”
Levi’s chest puffs with pride, his grin infectious. “Jim and I crushed it. Victory is ours.” His eyes gleam, reflecting the win.
I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head at their boyish glee. “Of course you did.”
Grayson leans against the kitchen counter, his shadow stretching long across the tiled floor. He nudges a bag of flour with his toe, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
“Maybe it’s time we add another little one to the mix,” he says, eyeing the twins covered in cake batter. “Could always use a little more chaos around here.”
Conrad chuckles, wiping a smear of chocolate from Minnie’s cheek. “I’m with Grayson on this one.”
I catch their gazes, my heart skipping a beat. Another baby? The idea sends a thrill through me. I raise an eyebrow, cocking my head to the side and letting the corner of my mouth quirk up.
“Sounds like we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us then,” I say, my voice laced with a promise. My eyebrows waggle, inviting their imaginations to run wild with the suggestion.
Their eyes darken, a spark igniting in each of them. It’s a challenge, a game, and oh, we all love to play.
I turn to the counter where our creation sits in all its messy glory. “Guys, you need to see this,” I say, my voice bubbling with excitement. I sweep a hand toward the cake, and their eyes follow.
“Behold, the chefs’ pièce de résistance.”
It’s lopsided, and there’s more frosting on the twins than on the cake itself, but it’s ours. Minnie claps her hands, bits of cake flying from her fingers, while Sonny beams, his cheeks smeared with chocolate.
“Wow,” Grayson breathes out, his eyes softening as he takes in the sight. “That’s…something.” His words are teasing, gentle.
Conrad leans in, his warm breath tickling my ear. “Looks delicious,” he murmurs, and I can tell he’s not just talking about the cake.
“Did you guys make this all by yourselves?” Levi asks, squatting down to their level. They nod vigorously, and he pretends to be taken aback. “Incredible!”
I wrap an arm around each of their tiny shoulders, pulling them close. “They’re natural bakers,” I boast, unable to keep the pride from seeping into my tone. “Just like their mom.”
Grayson chuckles, reaching out to swipe a finger through the frosting. He pops it into his mouth, his eyes closing briefly. “It’s good,” he approves, licking his lips.
“Best cake ever,” Conrad agrees, and we all know he’s not talking about the taste.
The kitchen is warm, filled with the scent of vanilla and love. And as I look at the faces of my family, my heart swells to bursting. This is perfection. This is home.
The End
