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I leaned against the counter with a steaming mug of coffee in my hand as I looked out the window.Half-empty plates and sticky drips of syrup covered the surface, but it didn’t bother me.Out in the garden, Oliver and Adeline raced across the dew-kissed grass outside.A year after our wedding, we moved from the penthouse in the city to a house with acres of land for the kids to run around in.Oliver, ever the little alpha, dribbled a soccer ball between his tiny feet while Adeline, my curious girl, chased after him.The sound of her wild laughter drifted across the garden and into the kitchen.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, and a familiar warmth pressed against my back.Sterling’s lips brushed the curve of my neck, his voice still gruff with sleep.“They’re going to wake the neighbors.”

I grinned and tipped my head back against his shoulder.“Just like their father.”

He huffed a laugh, his breath warm against my skin.“Kid’s got a better left foot than I did at five.”

Pride swelled in my chest as I watched Oliver fake left, then dart right, his little face screwed up in concentration.Sterling’s old jersey dangled past Oliver’s knees, the fabric swallowing him whole.

“He’s your biggest fan,” I murmured.

“And I’m your biggest fan.”His lips traced the line of my neck.“Every day, I wake up and wonder how I got so lucky.You’ve given me everything, Ariel.A family.A home.A life I never thought I’d have.”

I turned in his arms, my palms flat against his chest.“You’ve given me the same, Sterling.”

A shriek cut through the air as Oliver tackled Adeline into the grass, the soccer ball forgotten.Sterling sighed, releasing me to grab the skillet from the stove.“Breakfast.Before they start a war.”

I sipped my coffee, watching him move through the kitchen with the same effortless grace he’d once had on the field.Six years of marriage, and the sight of him still stole my breath.Leaning against the counter, I observed the way his T-shirt stretched across his shoulders, the faint scar above his eyebrow from a long-ago match, and the quiet intensity in his eyes when he glanced back at me.

“What?”he asked, flipping a pancake with a flick of his wrist.

“Nothing,” I lied.I hid my smile behind my mug.

He arched a brow but didn’t press before he turned back to the stove.I traced the rim of my cup as my gaze drifted to the framed photo on the fridge.It was taken on our wedding day.Sterling in a tailored tux, and me in a lace gown that had taken Nina three months to source, both of us laughing under a shower of rose petals.The event had been the talk of Huntington Harbor for months, a fairy-tale affair orchestrated by the woman who’d become my closest friend.

Every time I looked at that photo, I was reminded of the moment Sterling slid the ring onto my finger.

A crash from outside snapped me back to the present.Oliver stood over a toppled garden decoration, his face the picture of innocence.Adeline pointed at him as she broke into a fit of giggles.

Sterling sighed.“I’ll get them.”

I caught his wrist before he could move.“Let them be.They’re just kids.”

He hesitated, then leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine.“You’re soft on them.”

“And you’re not?”I challenged.

His lips quirked.“Never.”

A knock at the front door interrupted us.Nina breezed in before I could answer, her arms laden with a photo album and a bakery box.“Morning, lovebirds,” she sang, as she dropped the box on the counter.“Brought croissants.And memories.”

Sterling groaned.“Not the wedding photos again.”

Nina ignored him.“I was going through my archives and found some gems.I thought you should have a copy.”She flipped the album open to a page where Dean, who officiated the wedding, had somehow gotten tangled in the ceremonial ribbon.“Remember this?I thought he was going to shift right there and shred the ribbon with his claws.”

I laughed, the sound mingling with Sterling’s reluctant chuckle.The kids burst in then, Oliver covered in grass stains, Adeline with her hair in wild tangles.

“Aunt Nina!”they cried out before launching themselves at her.

She caught them with practiced ease, pressing kisses to their heads.“My favorite monsters.Did you save me any pancakes?”

Sterling slid plates loaded with pancakes onto the counter.“Eat fast.We’ve got a camping trip.”

Oliver’s eyes lit up.“With Uncle Dean and Noah and Savannah?”

“Yep.”Sterling ruffled his hair.

After breakfast, the kids scrambled out of their seats.