Dillon steps up to her other side, lightly pressing a hand to the small of her back. “We’re all here and we’re staying, Roxie. We’re in.”
She draws a shaky breath, looking between us like she can’t quite believe it’s possible that this is all true. “You really want a future with me?”
“Yes,” I say instantly. “Without a doubt. It’s all really fast. We get that, but you know that old saying,when you know, you know? Well, I fucking know.”
Chance nods, his jaw ticking. Dillon’s grin is softer than usual, but it’s real.
“We want all of it,” I tell her. “You. The baby. The future. Whatever it looks like.”
Her lips tremble as she looks up at me, but she doesn’t try to hide it, just wraps her arms around my neck and clings to me like I’m the only stability in the room. I hold her as tight as I can, the woman holding our future and our family together.
Fear or no fear, this is real. This is us. And we’re not letting her go.
She’s quiet for a long moment, tucked against my chest like she’s listening to the steady beat of my heart to decide how she feels. When she finally tilts her head back, her eyes are still glassy, her voice small but clear.
“Should we do DNA testing? I mean, how does this even work?”
The question punches something deep within me, protective urges rising in a way that makes me absolutely certain that she was mine. Ours.
I cup her jaw and shake my head. “No DNA testing.”
She frowns. “But?—”
“The baby will be ours,” I say without wavering. “Period. End of story. We don’t need a lab report to know that.”
For a long second, she searches my face like she’s trying to figure out if I really meant it, but I do. It doesn’t matter which one of us has biologically fathered this baby. We’d all been there that day. It belonged to us all.
“We’re sure,” I say before she can ask.
Chance lets out a soft sound of agreement behind me. Dillon murmurs, “Every step. All in.”
I lower my forehead to hers. “Are you good with that? With this whole situation? I mean, you’re probably going to have to move in. Permanently.”
Her eyes flick between us again, soft and warm. It doesn’t take much to guess that she’s a little overwhelmed.
Finally, she lets out a soft, teary laugh. “I think I basically already live here.”
“Good,” I murmur, pulling her in again. “Because we want you to. Can we make it official, then?”
Chance’s hand slides to her hip. Dillon’s fingers brush her shoulder, and she sinks into the middle of us like she finally feels like she belongs. Like this is home.
I clear my throat, suddenly remembering the small stash I’d hidden behind the armchair earlier.
“Uh, speaking of moving in,” I say, loosening my hold on her just enough to reach back and grab the first bag, “I, uh, I bought you a few things.”
Her head snaps up. “Again?”
“It’s not—” I start, but she’s already laughing and I grin, handing over the bag. “Fine, it is a gift, but I like spoiling you.”
Chance sighs, shaking his head at me. “I thought we talked about her choosing her own things in the future.”
“That’s why it’s called a gift, asshole. You’re not supposed to choose it for yourself.”
“Well, in that case, I fully support the spoiling lifestyle.” He strides to the counter and grabs a small gift bag, handing it to her with a mock bow. “For the record, I bought these in town the other day. On purpose. Because they reminded me of you. I browsed. I didn’t just stare at a screen.”
She peeks inside, her eyes widening before she glances back up at him. “Candles?”
“Scented,” he says proudly. “The fancy kind. The lady at the shop said they weremeditative. I figured maybe you could use some meditative energy while living with us.”
