Tucker goes completely still. His eyes move from one frame to the other, reading and rereading the names.
"Shula for fire, for passion," I say quietly. "Juniper for your mother, who's shown me what it means to be a strong woman and a loving parent. Aurora for new beginnings, for light. And Estelle—that was my grandmother's full name. Essie was short for Estelle."
Tucker's hands shake. My massive baby daddy sets the frames down carefully on the bedside table and covers his face with his hands.
"Tucker?" I touch his shoulder. "Are you okay? If you don't like the names, we can?—"
"They're perfect." His voice cracks. He drops his hands, and I see tears streaming down his face. "Sloane, they're perfect. But you... you gave them my last name."
"Well, we're a family, aren't we?"
That does it. Tucker completely breaks down, pulling me as close as he can with my belly between us, sobbing into my shoulder. His whole body shakes with it—this huge, tough enforcer reduced to tears by two picture frames.
"I love you," he chokes out. "God, Sloane, I love you so much."
"I love you too." I stroke his hair, my own tears falling. "I'm all in, Tucker. With you, with your family—our family. With everything. I'm not going anywhere."
"You named our daughter after my mom."
"She's incredible. And Shula Juniper Stag sounds strong. Like she'll be able to handle anything." I rest my hand on my belly. "And Aurora Estelle Stag sounds wise. Like she'll know who she is."
Tucker pulls back to look at me, his face blotchy and wet. "You really want them to be Stags?"
"I want us to be a family. However, that looks. Whether we get married or not, whether?—"
"We're getting married," Tucker interrupts firmly. "I mean, if you want to. When you're ready. I'm going to ask you properly,with a ring and everything, but Sloane—yes. We're getting married."
I laugh through my tears. "You're proposing by telling me you're going to propose?"
"I'm telling you I'm all in too." He cradles my face in his hands. "You're it for me. You and Shula and Aurora. That's my family. That's everything."
"Even though I’m cranky and can't have sex because my blood pressure might spike?"
"Especially then." He kisses me softly. "Although I'm not going to lie, I'm really looking forward to when Dr. Patel clears us for activities again."
"Me too," I admit. "But for now, this is enough. You're enough."
We sit like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, hands intertwined over our daughters.
"Oh!" Tucker suddenly pulls away. "I almost forgot." He reaches for the mail he'd tossed on the bed. "This came too."
He hands me an invitation to a holiday celebration. I glance at the details. “You know we can’t go to your family’s ski house for Christmas. Well. I can’t go.”
Tucker grins. “I know you can’t, and I’ll be right here with you. Because my entire family–every last Stag–is going to the mountains for three entire days.”
I meet his eyes. “So, it’ll just be us for Christmas?”
He nods. “No chaos. No crowds. No hockey travel, thanks to Pete and Mel. Just me and my girl and our precarious fetuses.”
I spurt out a laugh and reach for Tucker. He leans close and kisses me—deep and thorough and full of promise. "You're really okay with all of us? My huge family, the Sunday dinners, the constant opinions about everything?"
"I'm more than okay with it." I think about Juniper this afternoon, about Ty's visits, about the entire Stag support system that's been quietly surrounding me. "For the first time in my life, I understand what it means to have a family. Not just people related by blood, but people who show up. Who support me. Who love me without conditions."
"That's what you're giving Shula and Aurora," Tucker sayssoftly. "They're going to grow up surrounded by that. Because of you."
"Because of us." I correct. "We're doing this together."
The babies choose that moment to do a particularly strong series of kicks, making my whole belly shift. Tucker's hand immediately goes to the spot, his face lighting up.
