“Daniel is up in the den if you boys want to go join him,” Kendalee said. He watched as the boys went up the stairs, just as Elliott appeared from the basement staircase on the other side of the kitchen. Elliott held the door open as Holly toddled her way up the last of the steps holding on to her little guitar. The little girl had got Kendalee’s strawberry blond coloring but her father’s determined stare, and her eyes said she’d been crying.
“We’re late, Holly. Look, everyone is here,” Elliott said.
She folded her arms and looked up at him. “No. Play guitar.”
“Come here, Hols,” Lennon said. “Come sit next to me and you can show me how much better you play than your dad.” He patted the sofa next to him.
“Funny fucker,” Elliott said, grinning as he swung Holly up into his arms and placed her down next to Lennon.
“Kids present,” Kendalee reminded him.
Jordan laughed.
The door burst open. “Uncle Jordan,” the voice cried before he could see her. Petal. The apple of his fucking eye. The little girl who saved him when no one else could. “Uncle Jordan, I got a new dress.”
A mop of curls that seemed to change between dark blond and brown bobbed behind the back of the family room sofa before appearing in front of him. “Ta-daa,” she said, striking the cutest pose in front of him in a red satin dress printed with large white snowflakes. Then she turned from side to side. “Isn’t it the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen in your whole wide life? It has a sash that Momma tied in a bow. See?”
Elliott appeared at his side and took Noah from him.
Jordan crouched down in front of her. “I’m going to need to see the back before I decide.”
Petal grinned and turned. “It has white buttons, and Daddy let me wear new white tights because he said I keep ripping holes in them, but he also said a very naughty word, Uncle Jordan. He said the f-word. Fucking holes,” she whispered conspiratorially.
Jordan bit back a laugh and then looked at Dred, who’d finally made it into the family room. “That is such a naughty word. Naughty Daddy. But don’t let me hear you say that word. It’s much too naughty a word for a four-year-old.”
“Well,” said Petal, taking his hand. “I’m nearly five, so it’s cool.”
Pixie joined them, placing a pair of reindeer antlers on Petal’s head, which made her even fucking cuter. “I’m just relieved the f-bomb wasn’t her first word being around you guys.”
Jordan looked around the room. Everyone he cared about was here, in the spot where each and every one had proposed. Even Nik had got down on one knee right where Jordan now stood. It was the place where they made big announcements.
“Before we dive into all the business stuff,” Jordan said and gestured to Lexi to join him. He hadn’t thought how he was going to say it. And god, Petal was staring straight at him. But he couldn’t wait. “I’ve got an announcement to make.”
“Cannonball,” shouted Lennon, and everyone laughed.
When the noise had abated, he tried again. “Shut up, Ron fucking Burgundy. I’m pregnant. Well, I’m not. I mean, Lexi is. So, we are… both of us. Fuck.” He reached into his pockets and pulled out the copies of the ultrasound. “Have these.”
For a moment, shock and silence filled the room and then the whole house erupted.
Elliott threw his free arm around Jordan’s neck and planted a loud smack on his cheek. “Fucking yes, Brother.”
Dred had swooped Lexi up into a twirl.
“Put her the fuck down, you’ll hurt her,” Jordan shouted.
Lexi laughed. “I’m fine.”
There was a queue of people. Hugs, back-slapping. An immediate cancel of a meeting that was nothing more than a formality. And he was embraced in a wave of love that seeped through his bones, even though he’d never quite figured out why his brothers felt he deserved the affection. But he’d learned to appreciate it, to embrace it, to return that love to the men and women who now surrounded him.
He looked over at Lexi, who was talking animatedly to Pixie and Georgia, and he realized he already had the greatest gift on earth.
He was the luckiest fucking man alive.
3
Cujo Matthews juggled the pile of packages in one hand and his keys in the other. He had less than twenty minutes before his wife was home and he had to hide the rest of her presents before she walked through the door. Trent had finished the painting he’d commissioned for her, an abstract piece inspired by their wedding photograph from Las Vegas. And he’d picked up the red-sole shoes she’d been looking at that cost a fucking fortune but made her legs look spectacular. Then there were the last-minute bits and pieces he’d picked up for her stocking. He’d also collected the custom paddleboards he had made for his nieces, Amaya and Zephyr.
It was slightly masochistic, but he loved the fervor of last-minute Christmas shopping. The mayhem, the carols, the bells, the overkill of Christmas decorations. He and Drea had a large tree in the living room, but he’d been given no say in the decorations beyond helping Drea wrap a billion lights around it. Still, it had given him time to check out her ass while he held the ladder steady.
He slid the bubble-wrapped artwork under the bed in the spare bedroom, and he hid the shoes behind a box of his sneakers on a shelf he was pretty sure his shortcake couldn’t even see, let alone reach. The nail polish, earrings, and candles were added to the bag of small gifts he’d hidden in the back of his T-shirt drawer.
Knowing she would walk through the door any minute, he ran a bath for her… a luxury she loved, but rarely had time to enjoy. He added a splash of her favorite bubble bath, the scent immediately reminding him of her.
When he was finished, he wandered back down the stairs to the fridge, tugged the door open to look inside, then closed it again. He moved to the kitchen island and pulled out one of the bar stools before taking a seat. The marble countertop was cool beneath his fingers. He reached for the notepad and pen that Drea used to keep an ongoing grocery list.
Napkins.
Cassava.
Gherkins.
Plantain.
With the pen, he added his own requirements.
Sex in the shower with hubby.
Morning blow job for hubby.
Cash in orgasm IOU with hubby.
He grinned at the thought of any of them happening. Drea had been consumed with her new job, and while he was prouder of her than he could express, he missed his wife. She’d finally graduated from the University of Miami’s journalism program earlier in the year, and now she was a junior assignment editor for WPLG, an affiliate in Pembroke Park. He’d willingly worked every hour he’d been able to keep them afloat, to pay her tuition, and keep the roof over their heads. All so she could graduate without loans. And she’d worked damn fucking hard to achieve the great grades she had. Now, she was starting the career of her dreams, and the pressure they’d been under was easing.
Cujo glanced down at his watch, given she’d texted him twenty minutes ago, it would be another five or ten before she walked in the door. He pulled out his phone and looked at his messages in the wedding group chat. There was a message from Lia reminding him that it was his job to be the first to the church and make sure everything went smoothly as guests arrived.