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Daisy’s friend and boss, Damien, and the closest thing she has to a mother, Gwen, squeeze to the front on the other side of the bed, and we all marvel down at the sweet babies lying in Daisy’s arms with googly eyes and glory.

And I’m certain Flynn’s smile, as he looks down at his wife and newborn sons, is bigger than all of ours combined.

“They’re absolutely perfect,” I say aloud, glancing over to Rachel and angling her closer so she can get a better view.

She hesitates again, but I pull her to my front and wrap my arms around her waist. I’m sure it’s overwhelming being in a room with this many people she doesn’t know, but I want her close. I want her here.

Which, honestly, is no bigger surprise to anyone else than it is to me. But I’ve had more fun with her in the last month and a half than I can remember having in the last ten fucking years.

She’s playful and strong and brilliant. And hell, sex with her is mind-blowing.

I watch her face as she looks at Daisy and the babies, and I tuck her body close to mine. “They’re fucking perfect, Dais,” I say, eliciting the wrath of my mother and the laughs of everyone else.

“Ty, for heaven’s sake! Can you at least watch your mouth around newborns?”

“I’m sorry, Ma, but I can’t,” I say with a twinkle in my eye and a laugh in my throat. “They’re too fucking cute.”

“Fucking adorable,” Jude chimes in, ever the shit-stirrer.

“Really fucking tiny,” Remy adds in unexpectedly, making everyone dissolve into uproarious laughter once more.

“Beautiful fucking babies,” even my baby sister Winnie continues.

“You’re all fucking grounded,” Mama Winslow finally announces, throwing her hands in the air and topping it all off.

“What are their names?” Lexi asks over our collective laughter, a subtle pulsing smile on her cute face. It takes a lot to light her up inside, but seeing her cousins this shortly after their arrival into the world has clearly done it.

“Ryder and Roman,” Daisy answers, her voice a melody as she looks down at them. Lexi’s smile stretches all the way to her eyes.

I’ve got to admit, I’m feeling the light too, Lexi.

I don’t know the last time I’ve felt like this—like I have everything I’ve ever wanted right in front of me.

But today, Ty Winslow is on top of the world.

Rachel

Thirty minutes later, we’re still in the room with Ty’s family, they’re still laughing, and he’s still got me tucked as tight to the front of his body as he can manage.

I’m both uncomfortable and too comfortable at the same time, and the combination of the two makes me feel like I could walk myself right on over to the psych floor and declare myself as crazy, only to have them agree, admit me, and put me under close watch for seventy-two hours.

I glance up for the third time in the last minute to find Remy’s eyes still on me, watching. I thought maybe he’d move on when I found a particularly interesting spot on the floor and the ceiling and the wall and then on Daisy’s forehead. I can’t believe how good she looks given what she’s been through, but I can only stare at a woman in admiration for so long when I’ve just met her without people starting to think I’m strange.

Without even meaning to, the next time I catch Remy staring at me, I bug out my eyes, and he smiles in return. It’s as if he knows my game and is already six moves ahead of me. As a woman who feeds on control sometimes, I find it wholly disconcerting.

The chatter dims as Flynn finally waves a hand in the air, and Daisy’s eyes start to look heavy. I can only imagine the visiting has been nice, but she has to be exhausted at this point.

“Okay, guys. It’s time to clear out. My wife needs to rest, and I have a couple of babies to take care of.”

The sweet, protective edge of his words is enough to send a shiver down my spine and instill cooperation from everyone else. Ty moves me by the hips easily enough, shuffling me around and out the door, just like he’s been hustling me everywhere else all day.

I wrap my arms around myself as he steps away briefly to peer down the hallway.

“You okay here for a second?” he asks, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “I just want to run to the restroom, and then we can go.”

I nod and smile, trying desperately not to show just how overstimulated I feel by this whole experience.

He’s happy—blissful, really. And I don’t want to spoil that in any way. With some time to collect myself and get back to normal life, I’ll probably be fine. But I need the time to decompress. And it’s coming…at some point. At least, that’s what I tell myself to talk my feet off the proverbial ledge.

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