Galen presses kisses into her hair, gazing adoringly at her, as he cradles her close. All my husbands are amazing fathers, and the way they love our kids is a thing of beauty. Watching these muscled, tatted, pierced men dote over our son and daughters makes my ovaries swoon, every damn time.
“Here, Mom.” Bishop hands me a large beach towel. “Wrap Fireheart in that so she doesn’t get flour all over the house.”
“Don’t call me that,” Rora snaps, pouting again. “Only my daddies call me that.” She plants her hands on her hips and thrusts her chest out, challenging her brother with her body language. It’s priceless, and Galen and I share an amused look. “My name is Aurora,” she tells her brother, as if he’s unaware, enunciating her given name. Aurora has an amazing vocabulary for only two, and she never stops talking, chattering nonstop from the second she wakes every day until she conks out at night.
“Whatever.” Bishop dismisses her with a shrug that enrages her. Her eyes narrow, and her nostrils flare as her temper rises.
I think the term “terrible twos” was coined for Aurora Sariah Westbrook, because neither of her siblings threw temper tantrums even close to the epic meltdowns we’ve witnessed with Rora. She must get that from me, because Caz is as easygoing as they come, and I can’t imagine him as a little terror when he was younger. Mom says she sees the same determination and spirit in Rora and she reminds her of me as a kid. Maybe that’s why I find it so hard to punish her when she’s naughty. I never want to clip her wings. My parents enforced discipline in a way that also encouraged my true personality to shine, and I strive to be like that.
Quickly swaddling her in the towel, I bundle her into my arms before she launches herself at her brother. Those two are always arguing, but they are also each other’s biggest defenders when anyone threatens or disrespects their sibling.
“Never a dull moment,” Galen muses, leaning in to kiss me with Luna in his arms.
Our lips linger, and I wish we had time to get lost in one another. But spontaneous make-out sessions are a thing of the past since the kids came along. Between work and family life, we barely have time to breathe these days. Yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love my life, and I wouldn’t change anything.
Except for giving Saint the one thing he desperately desires. Something that has eluded us, so far.
“Gross,” Bishop murmurs, watching us kiss. Rora wriggles in my arms, babbling away, while Luna giggles into Galen’s neck.
“Kissing isn’t gross,” Galen says when we pull apart. “One day you’ll find your own angel, and you’ll want to kiss her, or him, nonstop until your lips fall off.”
I arch a brow, an amused grin spreading across my mouth at his words.
“Ugh. Double gross,” Bishop replies. “I’m never getting married.”
“Why not?” I ask, repositioning the wriggly snake in my arms before I drop her.
“Because I’m gonna rule the world, and I’ll be too busy for relationships.”
I stare openmouthed at my son, momentarily speechless.
Galen’s expression softens as he looks at him. “You can rule the world and have love in your life at the same time, Prodigy. Don’t ever deny your heart the opportunity to love.” Galen lifts his head, his intense green eyes locking on mine. “I almost did, and it nearly killed me.”
I plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
I expect Bishop to emit another “gross” comment, but he’s silent. Secretly, I know he loves how openly we all love one another. I grew up in a house where my parents were overtly affectionate, with each other and with me, and while I remember thinking similar “gross” thoughts as a kid, I also remember how much it warmed my heart to know my parents loved each other like that. It gave me an innate sense of security that couldn’t be replicated after we lost Dad. I’m determined my kids grow up feeling that same sense of security and protectiveness. The kind that can only come from love. It’s one of the reasons we shield nothing from our children. They know I am married to all their daddies, and they also know Theo and Caz share a special kind of love too.
“I love you, too.”
I will never tire of hearing those words from Galen or any of my husbands. I spent years believing I would never experience love, which makes what I share with my four guys even more special.
Rora huffs in exasperation, all out of patience, and Galen ruffles her hair. “Fireheart is restless. Go clean her up, and I’ll start lunch after the cookies are in the oven.”
“Thank you.” I should protest because Galen has been with the kids all morning while I worked, so I’m sure he could use a break, but I don’t because we’re a team, and this way, everyone will be fed and back in the pool quicker. “I’ll help when I’m done.”
Besides, no one wants me in the kitchen. Some things definitely haven’t changed. Galen and I are taking a cooking class downtown one night a week, and while his culinary skills have drastically improved, I still burn everything I touch. But I’m no quitter, and I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet.
“You should relax,” Bishop pipes up, moving over to the counter where the bowl and other cookie ingredients are set out. “You worked all morning. Let Daddy make lunch. I’ll help.”
“Daddy was working too.” It’s something I remind everyone of regularly. Galen chose to be a stay-at-home father, and it’s no picnic. While the rest of us have jobs we can escape to, Galen doesn’t have that luxury. He’s around the kids, and this house, all the time.
It’s one of the reasons I asked him to take over managing the accounts for the fitness center I own and run. It’s also one of the reasons I hired Jazz two years ago to help me manage the business so I can work part-time and be here to relieve Galen in the afternoons. Plus, I want to spend as much time as I can with the rugrats while they are small.
“I was trying to be diplomatic,” Bishop says, and I quirk a brow. “Your cooking still sucks, Mom.”
Galen chuckles, messing the top of Bishop’s black hair. “Your diplomatic skills could use a little work.”
“It’s cool. And it’s not like he’s telling a fib. My talents lie outside of the kitchen,” I quip, sending Galen a flirty look as I walk toward the double doors with my impatient daughter wriggling and mumbling in my arms.
“You’ll never hear any complaints from me,” he replies, fire blazing in his eyes, and I know his mind has gone to the same place as mine.
My core pulses with need, and I wonder if I can coax Theo out of his home office to watch the kids for a while after lunch so I can indulge in a quickie with Galen.
“You’re perfect in all the ways that count.”
I pin him with a sultry look, one that says, “you are so getting laid,” conveying everything with the heat in my eyes, because I can’t articulate those thoughts with innocent little eyes and ears around.
Galen’s eyes darken with sheer lust, and I rush out of the room, desperate to bathe my daughter and get lunch over and done with so I can put my sexy plan into action.
Chapter 2
Harlow
“POPS!” RORA RACES across the hardwood floor of Theo’s office, making a beeline for my husband. I lounge against the door, hoping we haven’t interrupted him in the middle of something important.