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“It wouldn’t be on their shoulders,” Carver explains. “Always mine, and I’m okay with that. Besides, we talked about it last night and they understand that their mother did some bad things, and when they’re old enough, if they still want to know, I’ll explain it to them.”

The boys nod, realizing that there are about to be some pretty big changes around here, but they’re changes for the better.

I make my way into the kitchen and step in behind Carver, wrapping my arms around his waist and plastering my face against his back. “So, does this mean I should call you ‘Daddy’ now?” I tease, a grin stretching across my face.

“No,” Dominique says. “Dante is our brother not our daddy.”

I laugh and shuffle myself beside Carver, leaning onto the counter and stealing a piece of toast that’s been left in the middle of all the bowls. I glance up at Dominique and wink as an even wider grin stretches across my lips. “Speak for yourself, girl.”

Her brows furrow but the conversation is dropped when Carver slams his hip against mine, sending me flying halfway across the kitchen and smacking right into King.

Grayson comes into the kitchen, dragging his feet in annoyance. “What’s all this fucking noise? It’s ...” his gaze sweeps to the little digital clock on the front of the oven and his eyes bug out of his head before irritation crosses his features and he starts to mope. “It’s barely even six in the fucking morning.”

“There, there, big guy,” I laugh, resting my hand against his raven tattoo and giving him a pity pat. “If the rest of us are up, then you’re up too.”

“It was my one day to sleep in,” he mutters as I pass him, his words fading into silence as he sees the girls sitting up at the breakfast bar, fighting with Cruz over who has the biggest spoon, though if they really want to know, it’s Grayson, always Grayson. “Umm … we have new friends?”

Carver restarts the long-winded explanation that I feel like I’ve already heard a million times by now, and as I cross the kitchen and find my brand-new coffee machine, I feel a little hand on the bottom of my tank, giving it a yank and demanding my attention. “Do we really get to stay here with you?” Dominique asks me, making Danika’s gaze shoot to mine, her curiosity far too great.

I give Dominique a soft smile and crouch down while pointing at Danika and telling her to get her little butt over here. The girls stand before me and I study their perfect little faces, assuming that if Carver and I were ever to have kids that they’d look just like this. “Do you two really want to stay here?” I question, watching as their faces light with excitement.

Danika nods her head so violently that I fear it might fall straight off. “We do,” she tells me. “We really do.”

“Well you should know that I have a few rules at my place,” I explain, watching as the excitement quickly drains from their faces, but they remain standing before me, determined to know the new rules that they’ll be living by. “Number one,” I start, nodding toward their big brother. “He needs to be woken up at five in the morning every single day to make us a fancy breakfast.”

Their grins quickly return and they each step in a little closer, more than ready to know the rest of my house rules. “Number two,” I continue. “I need to have at least three in-house fashion shows a week and I better be included because I have a killer closet with a million new outfits and no excuses to wear them.”

The girls giggle, gaining all the guys’ attention and leaving them more than curious about our conversation. “What was I up to?” I ask them, the boys’ stares instantly distracting me.

“Rule number three,” Dominique reminds me.

“Right, rule number three,” I say, fighting a smile. “Now, this is the important one, are you listening carefully?” I pause and watch as they nod, their eyes wide with anticipation. “Rule number three is that any and all tantrums must be taken to Grayson.”

They both laugh and shoot their little stares back at the guy in question. “Why Grayson?” Danika asks.

I indicate for them to come in nice and close so I can whisper in their ears. “Because he’ll never admit it, but Grayson is actually really scared of girls.”

Their eyes bug out of their heads and they crack into undeniable laughter. “So, if you can stick to my three rules, then I don’t see why we can’t all live here as one big, happy family. Do we have a deal?”

The girls nod and instantly rush back to Carver, pulling on his pants and telling him all about my rules to all the boys’ horror, but as they’re just starting to explain rule number three, my phone rings on the table and my gaze shifts to Carver, already knowing what this is about.

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