“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 lie. 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.
2
Harlow
“Pops!” Rora races across the hardwood floor of Theo’s office, making a beeline for my husband. I lounge against the doorway, hoping we haven’t interrupted him in the middle of something important.
Last year, Diesel promoted Theo to head of the information and technology department within VERO. It was a massive promotion. One he thoroughly deserved, and I couldn’t be prouder of all he’s achieved. The only downside is he now has to work out of their Washington, D.C. headquarters building at least two to three days a week. It’s too far to drive on a daily basis and too expensive to use private jets to fly him to and from HQ each day, so Theo flies business class to D.C. on Tuesdays, returning home on Thursday nights.
We bought a penthouse apartment in the city so at least he has some place to call home while he’s there. On the odd occasion, I’ve gone to D.C. with him. I enjoy exploring the city during the day while he works and basking in his undivided attention at night. But I don’t like being away from the kids for long, so I’ve only done it a couple of times. Caz keeps him company sometimes as well, and the kids are used to all of us coming and going at different times.
We built on at the back of the house last year, after Theo got his promotion, extending the kitchen-slash-dining room, adding a playroom for the kids, and a second home office for Theo. The original office is shared between the rest of us because we largely spend our days at our respective businesses, yet we still need a place to do some additional work from home. And Galen takes care of the accounts for my fitness center and the two garages Saint and Caz jointly own, so he needed space to work from home.
Theo removes the headphones from his ears, setting them down on the desk before swiveling in his chair. Rora barrels into him, and he lifts her, throwing her up into the air.
Her giggles reverberate throughout the room. “Again, Pops!”
He buries his head in her hair, hugging her little body tight to his chest. “Why do you smell like you’ve just had a bath?” he asks, standing.
“Because I just did, silly,” she says, like it’s normal to have a bath in the middle of the day, during the height of summer when most days are spent in and out of the pool.
He tosses her up high in the air. Her squeals tickle my eardrums, and I smile. “It sounds like someone was up to mischief.” Theo waggles his brows, and she bats her eyelashes, flashing him the biggest, most innocent smile, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“Someone decided it would be fun to dump a bag of flour over her head,” I explain, pushing off the doorway and walking toward them. Though I doubt she’ll do it again. Not after the ordeal we just endured trying to get it all out.
“Fireheart.” Theo shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “What are we going to do with you? Hmm?” He kisses her cheek.
“Love me?” Rora says, batting her eyelashes, and I choke on a laugh.
The adoring look Theo gives her melts every part of me. “You are already loved, Rora.” He dots kisses all over her face. “So, so much.”