Page 125 of Shootout Daddies

Our second baby. A boy this time—tiny fists already flailing like he’s ready for his first fight. Rhett takes him, tears running down his face, before laying him gently in Ivy’s arms beside his sister.

“Two down,” Landon murmurs, kissing Ivy’s damp forehead. “One more to go.”

Ivy groans, exhausted but determined. “Three babies. You guys owe me so much jewelry.”

“We’ll buy you a whole damn island,” Rhett mutters, his forehead pressed to hers.

Another contraction tears through her. I grip her hand. She squeezes until my vision sparks.

And then the third cry. Softer, higher, but strong.

Another girl.

Three babies. Three perfect, impossible miracles.

The nurses clean them, swaddle them, tuck them into Ivy’s waiting arms. She looks like something holy—hair wild, gown damp with sweat, face flushed, eyes shining brighter than I’ve ever seen. Our babies nestled against her chest, her lips pressing desperate kisses to their downy heads.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, broken and whole all at once. “Oh my god, they’re so beautiful.”

Landon names the boy first. “Gabriel. Gabe for short.”

Rhett strokes the dark fuzz on the smallest girl’s head. “This one’s Lila.”

I look at the firstborn, the one who screamed loudest, who latched to Ivy’s chest like she already owned the world. My throat burns. “And this one? Her name’s Maya.”

Ivy repeats them, her voice soft and reverent. “Maya. Gabriel. Lila.” Tears slip down her cheeks. “Our babies.”

I press my mouth to her temple, unable to hold it in anymore. “Marry us, Ivy.”

The room stills. She tilts her head, wide-eyed, blinking through the tears.

“What?”

“Marry us,” I say again, firmer this time, my hand cupping her cheek. “Not later. Not someday. Now. We’re already yours. Make it official. Marry us.”

Landon nods instantly, his voice hoarse. “Yes. Ivy, I need you. Forever.”

Rhett kisses her hand. “Please say yes.”

Her breath stutters. Her eyes close, then open, and the smile that breaks across her face is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes?” I choke out.

“Yes,” she repeats, louder this time, joy ringing through the tears. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

We’re all crying. Every single one of us. Brooke’s sobbing in the corner, muttering something about “true love” while dabbing her face with a tissue.

Ivy cradles the babies closer. “This is everything. You’re everything. I love you. I love all of you.”

And I swear my heart has never felt this full.

Our family. Our future. Our forever.

The beach house. The babies. Our upcoming nuptials. The whole damn messy, beautiful, impossible dream…ours.

Happily ever after.

The end.