We found our seats near the middle of the table. The twins had already claimed the chairs on either side of us, arguing about who got to sit next to Daddy versus who got to sit next to Mommy.
“You’re both sitting next to both of us,” Knox pointed out. “That’s how chairs work.”
“But I want to be on Daddy’s right side,” Thea insisted.
“I was here first!” Rowan protested.
“You were not!”
“Was too!”
“Enough.” Knox’s voice was firm but amused. “Thea, you’re on my right. Rowan, you’re on my left. Problem solved.”
The twins grumbled but accepted the arrangement, settling into their chairs with matching pouts that faded the moment the food started being passed around.
“Mommy, can you cut my meat?” Thea asked, tugging at my sleeve.
“Mine too,” Rowan added immediately.
Knox was already reaching for their plates. “I got it. You go get Blake.”
I walked over to where Mika was still holding my daughter, chatting with Cole about something that had them both smiling. Blake saw me coming and immediately reached out with grabby hands, making the demanding little sounds she always made when she wanted me.
“Someone missed her mama,” Mika said, handing her over.
“She always misses her mama.” I settled Blake against my chest, breathing in her clean baby smell. “Thank you for watching her.”
“Anytime. She’s a sweetheart.”
I glanced at Cole, at the way he was holding Thomas like the baby might disappear if he loosened his grip. “How are you doing?”
Cole looked up, something raw flickering in his eyes before he controlled it. “Better. Getting there.”
“Good.” I reached out and squeezed his arm. “I’m glad.”
Back at the table, Knox had finished cutting up the twins’ food and was working on mine, slicing everything into pieces I could manage one-handed.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said as I slid into my seat.
“I want to.” He pushed my plate back toward me. “Now eat. You’re still healing.”
I adjusted Blake in my lap and reached for the bottle I’d prepared earlier. She latched on eagerly, her eyes drifting closed in contentment while I picked up my fork with my free hand.
Around us, the table was alive with noise. Serena was telling a story about Knox as a child, something involving a frog and a very expensive vase, and everyone was laughing. Knox groaned and covered his face with his good hand.
“Mom, please.”
“What? It’s a good story!”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“That’s what makes it good,” Marcus chimed in, grinning.
Noah was arguing with Sawyer about the proper way to season meat, both of them talking over each other while Ryder watched with obvious amusement. Jasmine and Mick had their heads together, laughing about something while Greyson tried to convince Cress to trade her potatoes for his vegetables.
“Mommy, can I have more potatoes?” Rowan tugged at my sleeve.
Knox grabbed the bowl and spooned another helping onto Rowan’s plate before I could respond.
