Page 191
We shuffle into the living room together, the unfinished floors creaking under our feet, the echo of our boys’ cries slowly melting into contented little snuffles.
Mya settles into the worn couch cushion we brought from the ranch for tonight, twin in her arms, hair falling over her face like a halo gone soft. I sit beside her, Kody already dozing against my shoulder.
She glances over at me, and everything slows again.
The house is a mess. The walls need paint. There’s a stack of baby supplies in the corner and a half-assembled crib propped against the wall.
But I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.
Not the stage. Not the spotlight. Not the platinum plaques or screaming fans.
Just this.
Her.
Them.
Us.
“When the sky falls,” I whisper, brushing a kiss to the top of Kody’s head, “this is what I’m holding onto.”
And for the first time in my life, everything feels like it’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.
We haven’t even cut the engine before Reese comes barreling out the front door like she’s got a sixth sense for ring boxes and emotional whiplash.
“Mya!” she shrieks, all but tripping over her own feet as she jogs down the steps in her fuzzy socks and leggings like the human embodiment of a rom-com best friend. “Well? Did she say yes?!” Her arms are flailing. She looks half delirious with excitement and caffeine.
I’m still unbuckling the twins’ car seats, but my lips are already curling. Mya climbs out next, and she doesn’t even get a chance to shut the door before Reese is on her like glitter on a bachelorette sash.
“Did you say yes?!” she repeats, practically vibrating with glee. “Wait—don’t answer. I want the full breakdown. What did he say? Did he cry? Oh my God, you cried, didn’t you?”
Mya turns to shoot me a look over the hood of the truck. A look that says, you better back me up, Malone. I hold up my hands in mock innocence. “She said yes,” I confirm, setting Kody’s seat on the ground next to the truck, and then Kingston’s. “Eventually.”
“Eventually?” Reese gasps, spinning toward Mya like she’s been personally betrayed. “You hesitated?”
“I didn’t hesitate,” Mya huffs, cheeks pink. “I was just…processing!”
Reese throws her hands up, eyes sparkling. “You love a dramatic pause. Honestly, I respect it.”
“Can we get the babies inside before we freeze off our newly engaged asses?” Mya grumbles, snatching the diaper bag from the back seat with a muttered, “Not all of us run on emotional caffeine and chaos.”
Reese gasps. “That’s a brand, thank you very much.”
She bounds ahead, holding the door like she’s ushering us into the next phase of our lives. And maybe she is. Because this feels different now. Like everything’s cracked open in the best way. Like we’re not just surviving anymore—we’re building something.
By the time I carry the twins inside and toe off my boots, Reese is already snapping photos of Mya’s hand like she’s paparazzi on a mission. “Look at that ring,” she gushes. “Princess cut, perfect clarity, platinum setting—did you pick this out or did Fletch grow taste overnight?”
I smirk. “Excuse you. I have impeccable taste. I just usually save it for guitars and baby wipes.”
Reese snorts. “Well, congrats, Daddy Diamond. You nailed this one.”
Mya’s eyes meet mine over the chaos—twins stirring, Reese bouncing, sunlight pooling across the floor like a promise—and suddenly I can’t stop smiling.
Because she said yes.
“Y’ALL CAN COME OUT NOW!” Reese shrieks at the top of her lungs, practically vibrating with glee from our open doorway. “SHE SAID YES!”
I groan, dragging a hand down my face while trying not to laugh. “Reese,” I say under my breath as she spins on her heel and bolts back into the cottage like she’s just announced a national emergency. “You weren’t supposed to tell them.”
