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Finn and Mav were chasing Quinn around the house, their faces lit up brighter than Mom’s elaborately decorated tree.
We were just waiting for Alice and Greyson to show up in time for dinner.
My chest swelled at the contented glow of it all, and I made a beeline for my parents, who were already manning the stove.
This kitchen—quaint in design, but heavy on function—boasted double ovens and two massive islands, one of which was completely covered in pies. We did not play small in this family, and the desserts were no exception. I was pretty sure we were outnumbered four to one.
“Hey, Daddy,” I chirped, sliding in beside him for coffee.
“Morning, punky. Merry Christmas Eve!” he greeted, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“Merry Christmas Eve!” I echoed before sliding my arm around his waist in a squeeze. He was a little softer around the middle these days, but still Milo Rhodes through and through—firm, steady, and with that same heart-eyed grin aimed solely at Mom.
That. I wantedthat.
I stepped away just in time for Mom to wrap me in her own hug, her tie-dye sundress flowing around her like water. But as soon as Dad threw the first batch of bacon on, a terrible smell hit my nose—and my stomach lurched in betrayal.
The mug slammed onto the counter, and I bolted for the trash can.
“Oh, shit,” I heard Mom mutter before she was behind me, scooping my hair out of the path of destruction the same way Ollie had a few days earlier.
I barely registered the clang of chairs or the echo of twelve collective gasps before I was upright again, wiping my mouth and grimacing at the queasiness still rolling through me.
“Jesus, Leigh,” Axel called across the kitchen. “You hungover or something?”
“No,” I groaned. “Not exactly.”
“Oh my God,” Hadlee gasped, eyes going huge. “No way!”
“Dammit,” Paxton muttered. He reached into his wallet and handed a bill to Jameson, who smirked like the smug bastard he was and tucked it into a stack of cash in front of him.
They’d made bets?!
“Seriously?!” I barked, flipping them both off. Jameson just raised his coffee in a toast.
Axel appeared with a cup of water, brows drawn. “Come on, Leigh. What’s going on?”
“I’m pregnant, okay?” I snapped, snatching the water and taking a long sip.
“What the fuck?” Axel barked just as Gimli the dog came skittering into the kitchen, nipping at his ankles.
“It’s a Christmas miracle!” Maverick declared, grinning like a lunatic. “Thy virgin Leighton hath conceived!”
Kaia and Hadlee lost it, bursting into giggles, while Finn socked Mav in the arm and muttered, “What the fuck, dude?”
But it was Paxton, Jameson, and Rhyett—crossing their arms and bearing down on me like a judgmental Greek chorus that had me bracing.
“I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone,” Rhyett said, concern thick in his voice.
“Because she hasn’t said shit about it,” Jameson pointed out, eyes narrowing. “Are you safe? Can your heart handle this?”
“Yes, I’m okay,” I said, setting a hand on my chest like it could will the queasiness away.
“Do we know this asshole?” Axel asked, cradling Gimli like a football.
“More pressing question,” Pax cut in. “Do welikethis asshole?”
“Does he treat you well?”