“I can’t—"
“We can discuss it again when you’re working,” Stefan says in a tone that brooks no argument.
All I can do is stare and stroke Aidan’s hair as Rory and Stefan carry on their task.
Quinn joins us a few minutes later. He leans against the door frame with his arms loosely folded.
"Thank you," I tell him. "You didn't need to give up your art room for me."
"It's fine. I prefer working with company anyway."
"What do you do?" I realise I've never asked him before, despite staying here for over a week.
"I'm a freelance illustrator. I like to set my own hours to work around my sleep attacks. I mostly do children's books, but sometimes I do private commissions.” He smiles. “Theo keeps sending other puppy players my way."
"Do you have to do your own taxes?"
"Yes.” He tilts his head. "Have you thought about going freelance yourself? I could help you with the tax side of things. Of course, when your business gets huge, you'll probably want to hire an accountant."
“I’d thought about it. Vaguely anyway. Rory said that Preston might be able to help me with marketing."
"Yes. It's his job. I'm sure he'd be glad to help in any way he can. We all would. Do you know what the best part of living in this house is?"
I shake my head.
"Knowing that everyone's got my back. I was nervous about moving out of my parents’ house, but I needn't have been. These guys are the best. They’re open, kind-hearted, and generous. I know I could go to anyone here and get whatever help I need. It's why Stefan and I aren't in a rush to move out. And I'm sure the same goes for Beau and Fraser and Preston and Theo. We're like a family.” He grins. “A family that’s grown by two people."
My heart swells, and tears prickle my eyes. "Thank you."
"All done," Rory says, gesturing to the cot.
A dam bursts inside me as I stare at the white, wooden cot. Tears trickle down my cheeks. I'm too overwhelmed to speak. Rory comes over and envelops Aidan and me in his arms.
"Welcome home, Cal,” he repeats, kissing us both softly again. "Welcome home, Aidan.”
20
RORY
I’m not sure what time it is when the piercing cry of a baby wakes me. My room is dark. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling as my mind takes a moment to recall that the baby is Aidan. His cry is softer as I scramble out of bed, pull on yesterday’s T-shirt, and stumble down the stairs.
I stop halfway into the kitchen and stare. Hendrix is walking around the table, humming to Aidan as Callan makes a bottle. Aidan has stopped crying and is making happy, gurgling noises as he stares at Hendrix.
“Took you long enough to wake up,” Hendrix says. “Maybe we should put a baby monitor in your room.”
I stare at him slack-jawed.
“You didn’t need to get up,” Callan says. “Neither of you did. I’m sorry Aidan woke you.” He glances at the ceiling. “Do you think he woke anyone else up?”
“If he had, they’d have come down, so it looks like it’s just us. It’s a good thing he’s cute,” Hendrix says in a fake huffy tone.
I arch an eyebrow. “How come you’re so good with babies?”
Hendrix shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe I’m just brilliant at everything.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you want me to take over?”
“No, I’m good.” He glances between Callan and me. “I’ll take Aidan into the lounge. Bring the bottle through when it’s ready.”
