Mylo glanced at me, his eyes twinkling, and I nodded. He turned back to Noah, his smile widening.
“We’re having a baby,” he said, his voice full of joy.
Noah’s eyes widened, and then he let out a whoop, pulling Mylo into a hug. “That’s amazing!” he said, voice muffled against Mylo’s shoulder. He pulled back, looking at me with a grin. “Congrats, man. You’re gonna be a dad.”
I nodded, my chest tight with emotion. “Yeah,” I said, voice rough. “I am.”
Hope appeared from the kitchen, her eyes lighting up when she saw us. “What’s all the noise about?” she asked, and Noah grinned.
“They’re having a baby,” he said.
Hope squealed, rushing over to pull Mylo into a hug. “Oh my god, that’s amazing!” She pulled back, beaming. “I’m so happy for you two.” She turned to me, her expression playful. “I hear you’re a bit possessive with that bite of yours, huh? Making sure everyone knows Mylo’s off-limits?”
My cheeks heated, and Mylo laughed, his face turning pink. “It’s not like that,” I muttered, though it totally was.
Hope raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re not the only one—Noah was just as bad when he claimed me.”
Noah grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. “What can I say? When you find your mate, you don’t want to take any chances.”
Mylo rolled his eyes, still smiling. And that smile? It made my heart swell.
Noah laughed, clapping Mylo on the shoulder. “Man, you two are gonna have your hands full.”
“Damn right we will,” I added, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his temple.
This was it—our future. And I was ready for every single moment of it.
The sun had barely begunto peek over the mountains when I shuffled into the kitchen, the chill of the early morning lingering in the air. Mylo was already there of course, moving around the kitchen with a sense of purpose, his hair was still tousled from sleep and my oversized hoodie was hanging loosely off him. He looked so soft and still a little sleepy, like he could use another hour under the covers—although I’d never say it aloud. I’d learned not to try and get him to slow down the last few months.
I leaned against the doorframe, just watching him for a moment. The gentle sound of eggs cracking, the sizzle of bacon in the pan, the smell of freshly brewed coffee—it all wrapped around me like a hug. Mylo had this way of turning even the most mundane mornings into something that felt special.
Or maybe it was just living with him, waking up with him… it was the day to day of life together.
He turned, catching sight of me, and his face lit up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Morning, sleepyhead. Coffee’s on the counter,” he said, nodding toward the steaming pot.
“You’re a saint,” I muttered, pushing myself off the frame and moving toward the counter. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet, pouring the dark liquid as the warmth seeped into my palms. I took a long sip, sighing as the caffeine worked its magic. “You’re up early,” I added, eyeing him over the rim of my cup.
He shrugged, flipping a pancake with a practiced ease that made me smile. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep this place running.” He shot me a look, his eyes twinkling. “And that someone is apparently me.”
I loved how confident he’d gotten and how much our house felt more like ours now with more of his touches everywhere.
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” I said, setting the mug down and slipping behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I could feel the slight bump of his stomach pressing into me—our baby growing, a reminder of the life we were creating together. He smelled like vanilla and something sweet—sugar maybe—and I buried my nose in his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. “I’d eat cereal every morning if it wasn’t for you.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he teased, tilting his head slightly giving me more room.
“It is,” I replied, my lips brushing against his ear. “Cereal doesn’t come with a side of your smile.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I love you, you know that?”
I hummed, holding him a little tighter. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.”
He stilled for a moment, then leaned back into me, his body relaxing against mine. “You’re cheesy as hell, you know that?”
“You love it.”
“I do,” he whispered, almost as if he was admitting a secret. He turned his head, just enough for me to catch the soft look in his eyes before he turned his attention back to the pancakes. “But let go of me before I burn breakfast. You’re distracting.”
“I thought you liked distractions,” I said, my voice low, teasing.
