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So naturally, I ruin the moment.

“Lena?”

Her head rolls to look at me. “Yeah?”

“You’re fired.”

She fights a smile in response.

I make it halfway through baby savasana before I tap out and quietly collect what’s left of my masculinity. Standing up like I haven’t aged a decade in thirty minutes, I retreat to the far wall where I can observe without being expected to breathe through my third eye.

Lena catches me abandoning ship and smirks like she knew I’d crack. She doesn’t say anything, just pats Rosie’s back like,See baby girl, some men just aren’t built for this.

I lean against the wall and watch them. She’s guiding Rosie through the final pose, lifting her legs and demonstrating some ridiculous stretch.

Lena’s flexible.

I don’t know why I feel theneed to mentally file that away, but I do.

Then she shifts her balance to help Rosie straighten, and they both topple sideways in a heap of limbs and giggles.

It’s chaos. It’s loud. And it’s beautiful.

“Shush,” Meadow hisses.

Lena’s head snaps up, and the look she and Rosie give Meadow could peel paint.

Right on cue, Rosie lets out another triumphant fart that echoes off the cork floor like a warning shot.

Lena meets my eyes across the room, and we both break into silent, shoulder-shaking laughter.

I swear, we’ve never been more proud.

Twenty-One

Lena

I’m stirring the sauce on the stove, humming quietly, when the open kitchen window lets in a lazy breeze.

I glance over at Wes, who’s sprawled comfortably at the kitchen island, arms crossed, watching Rosie annihilate a toy guitar.

“You’re staring,” I point out, lips twitching.

He winces when he moves, still a little sore from baby yoga last week. I’ve been warned that if I make him go back, I’m definitely fired.

“Why do you always have to buy her toys that make the most noise?”

Rosie smacks the guitar, proving hispoint.

“Because clearly,” I say dryly. “She’s the next Hendrix.”

“She’s a future noise complaint,” Wes mutters, though he’s fighting a smile.

“It’s educational. Builds motor skills and promotes language development.” I flick sauce from the spoon at him.

He wipes the sauce splatter off his hand, lifting one skeptical brow. “That’s what we’re calling this? Development?”

I roll my eyes. “You know, it’s scientifically proven.”