He huffs. "You're eight months pregnant and stubborn. Can't be too careful."
"I'm fine."
He slides a hand over my belly, thumb brushing the curve of it. "Finn's kicking like he's trying to escape."
I smirk, "He gets that from you."
"Kid's probably already planning an empire," Brax states.
"Don't give him ideas," I warn.
Aurora wiggles in Brax's arms, pointing wildly. "Cupcake."
I groan. "We shouldn't have given her one before lunch."
"After presents," Brax reminds her.
Her eyes widen, then she shouts at full volume, "Presents!"
Half our guests jump.
Sean groans, clutching his chest. "Why does she scream like that?"
"Genetics," Zara sings, rocking her baby.
Brax smirks. "Must be the Marino in her."
I elbow him. "Excuse you?"
"You heard me."
I shoot him a warning look but can't stop my smile.
He steals a kiss before Aurora shrieks "Boom!" then laughs.
"We need a dark corner," Brax murmurs in my ear.
My cheeks flush. No matter how much time goes by, my husband's desire for me doesn't fade. Nor does mine for him.
Throughout the party, Brax sends me looks, and a few times mouths, "dark corner." It only makes my hormones grow wilder.
Once the presents have been torn open, the meltdown over a missing toy is narrowly avoided, and the cake has been devoured by childrenand aggressively taste-tested by adults, Brax wraps his arms around my waist and guides me to the edge of the roof.
The sun dips lower, bathing the artificial grass in gold.
Aurora is in the middle of the lawn, spinning in circles until she collapses in giggles. Luca and Sean cheer her on like she's competing.
Brax murmurs against my ear, "Three damn years, Minx."
I rest a hand over his. "You're getting sentimental."
"I blame you." His voice drops, warm and rough, the sound that always sinks into my spine. "I never imagined life like this."
"Neither did I."
"Do you miss it?" he asks.
"What?"
