Page 137 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

"Yes," he admits shamelessly. "The things we do for love, baby.”

CHELSEA

"It's a girl."

That's what my OB-Gyn announces, with a distinct note of shock in his tone. Probably because at my 20-week visit, and all the subsequent ones after that, they told me that the baby was a boy.

But nope.

The squalling child placed on my chest with a shock of red hair and a tiny, precious body is definitely a girl. But I don't care about her gender. I sob as I hold her, kissing her all over, glad that after the strenuous labor she's finally out in the world, healthy and perfect and mine.

Her fathers surround me, watching us, wonder in their faces. After, they hold her, one by one, that wonder expanding, tears filling their eyes, whispered promises against her forehead.

"My precious angel," Adam says, the tears running down his cheeks. "We're so happy you're here."

Our angel responds by screaming even louder, letting her displeasure be known.

Sam and Adam dote on our bundle of joy while the doctor cleans me back up. Jake is still holding my hand, as he'd been doing the entire twelve hours of labor. I'm exhausted. Sweat sticks to my skin, and I probably stink to high heaven. But love glows on his face as he places gentle kisses on my forehead. "You did so good, my love. So good."

"You're not disappointed it's not a boy?" I whisper, so the others can't hear. Jake had been pretty excited that we were having a boy. He talked little league, fishing, and all the stuff they could do together. Stuff he couldn't do with his own father.

"No," he says. "I think the other two secretly wanted a girl. I didn't care as long as the baby's healthy."

"What about little league?"

"Oh, we're still doing that. Or ballet if she wants. Or both. My daughter's gonna kick ass whether it's in a jersey or a pink tutu."

I manage a weak snort, and he grins.

Individually and collectively, the men split their attention between attending to me and taking care of our baby. The next few hours are a blur of me resting and waking up in brief moments to feed the baby and then finally being taken home from the hospital.

I don't do much except sleep for the first few weeks after labor. Though the pregnancy was relatively tame with minimal symptoms, the actual labor leaves me exhausted for days.

But that's fine, because my men don't let me lift a finger.

Whenever the baby cries in the middle of the night, they're the ones waking up to rock her back to sleep. When she fusses, they argue with each other on how to make it better. They love on herconstantly, and rather than see it as a burden, they seem to view it as some kind of privilege they compete with each other for.

I don't do much except breastfeed as my husband's strive to win the title of favorite dad.

And James is competing with no one for favorite uncle.

My brother visits often, at first claiming it's to check on me, but at least some of that is because he's fallen head over heels with his niece. He's heavily protective over her already, which of course means that he and the men often clash and bicker about what our baby actually needs.

A few times I've had to step in, though I know that the bickering is how they get along these days.

There's no more animosity between James and the men, especially after they saved my life. He accepts them as my fiancées, and Adam's family accepts us too, for the most part.

When Adam introduced us to his mom, she stared at us for a minute, then laughed loudly and long.

"That makes so much sense," she remarked, and that was that.

His family is surprisingly open-minded, and though they were surprised to hear that Adam is living such an unconventional, 'un-Adam-like' lifestyle, they welcome us into the fold while poking fun at their brother here and there.

With that acceptance, it's been easier to settle into this new normal. I no longer care about the stares we get when we're affectionate in public or whatever people might be saying behind my back. Everyone that matters already knows, and they support us. Everyone else can kick rocks for all I care.

"So, did you hear the news?" James asks as he comes into the living room where I'm reclining, having finally stopped trying to fight to be the one to put his niece to sleep.

"What news?"