Page 154 of Stealing Blinds

And Gage simply bobbed his head. “That’s how we do.”

That was our clue that Ryker’s hands had been full, taking care of all the girls and kids. He loved it though. It also led to the announcement that Rena and Ivy were both expecting.

It’s been a busy year.

Sylvie’s pregnancy was smooth, and I was grateful for every healthy day. She was full of nerves due to her past loss, but she celebrated every milestone with brave elation. And so did I—the late-night cravings, the doctor’s appointments, the belly kicks from our little fighter, Sylvie’s tears of joy, and the privilege of holding her pain and fear. Even the hard moments were an honor.

We celebrated everyone else’s milestones too. Mercy and Ryker had their daughter, Emma, a week after our wedding. Ty and Rena had their baby, Andrew, in late fall. Wells and Ivy had their daughter, Faith, two months later. Tessa and Maddox shared their good news at Christmas. And as of last week, Axel and Zara have joined the club.

It’s a tad absurd, but an abundance of good fortune.

It’s also why a family night in the Underground was appealing to all. And because it’s a staple of our evenings out, the musicians from Café L’Ambroisie are our main entertainment.

The pianist onstage plays Lukas Graham’s “7 Years” as Remy shuffles his deck, pulling the cards into an impressive flourish. When Sterling and Flora gasp, he smirks and winks. A born Casanova.

Sylvie cackles. “Remy Noire, who taught you to wink like that?”

It’s what she always asks him when he surprises her. They have the cutest relationship because just like she’s a phenomenal mother, she’s an amazing aunt. And he always answers with one of his uncles’ names. But he’s getting older and wiser.

“Can’t reveal my secrets,” he says coolly, which garners hysterics from the entire table.

“I know,” Mercy sings, flicking her brown eyes my way.

I lean forward, tapping the table near the cards he’s currently showing off with. “Tell your mom the most important lesson you’ve learned.”

He lifts his chin with all the Noire swagger. “Snitches get stitches.”

The table howls, but his dad can’t let that pass.

“That doesn’t apply to Mom,” Ryker rebukes with a chuckle, reaching to muss his son’s hair while side-eyeing me. “What class is that?”

“Life skills,” Maddox chimes in, always on the same page as me.

“Exactly.” I sit back, resting my arm behind my wife while my little Serendipity—we call her Pippa for short—nestles into my chest, fast asleep.

She’s pretty, like her mama, but she’s got my coloring—blonde curls and big blue eyes. Sylvie dresses her like a precious doll, and I cherish my darling princess, but my time is coming. As soon as she starts walking, I’ll be upping the wardrobe into badass territory and teaching her the art of illusion. My little sidekick.

She’ll be learning suave dance moves too. It’s one of my favorite pastimes to do with her mom. But those will likely be Noire-family tutorials.

“The brilliance of our homeschool lessons is more apparent by the day,” Tessa deadpans. “What will you all teach our little one?”

“Says the auntie who loads Remy up with sugar. You are far from innocent,” Zara volleys, to which our silver-haired troublemaker grabs her growing belly in mock offense.

“Careful, Slugger,” Maddox warns Zara, palming Tessa’s head. “You don’t want to end up on her list.”

Ryker hands his daughter a spoon to bang her high-chair tray to the beat of the music before he tugs Mercy closer, grinning at me for instigating. With our wives juggling motherhood and the harrowing fears of raising girls plaguing us, we’ve spent a lot more time together. Axel will always be the man I credit with raising me, a far better father than the one the fire terminated. But I couldn’t have gotten through this past year without Ryker’s guidance.

Remy pats a drumbeat on his sister’s tray, making her giggle, before he begins dealing the cards, intent on us all playing. Since he had Uncle Axel grab some betting chips, I think the game of choice is poker. If he can get this group to focus.

“Eye of the Tiger” blares from the stage, and Maddox and Tessa expel a collective hoot—not about the song—drawing all our eyes to them.

Tessa shows the phone to Sterling and Bernard first, which immediately intrigues me.

Bernard has an expert poker face, but his lips twitch with delight.

Sterling, who has become quite a fixture around here, beams at whatever she’s reading. “When a giant falls from grace, does he cry himself to sleep?”

“Let’s hope,” Tessa says. “But we shouldn’t celebrate until Sylvie gets to cheer.”