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Janie pointed to the playpen under the window. “Gather your troops, honey. I’ll finish off the tortillas.” She gestured to the table. “Please take a seat, Gabe,” she said before she headed back to the kitchen.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Gabe pulled out a chair and watched Solo corral each of her children into their little soft prison. “How are you supposed to tell them apart when they’re all biological girls as well as being identical? Have you thought of little tattoos?”

“I heard that,” Janie said from the kitchen. “Please don’t put ideas like that in her head.”

Solo’s eyes widened, and she put her finger to her lips to shush Gabe. “She has the hearing of a vampire bat,” she whispered.

“I heard that too.”

Gabe glanced at the three captives. “Seriously though, how do you tell them apart?”

“What makes you think I can? Tattoos sound like a really good option.” Solo laughed and wiggled her fingers like she was playing piano. “Janie paints the nails on both big toes. Tia is orange, Chloe is purple, and Luna is green.”

Gabe shifted slightly to look at their feet. “They’re wearing socks. Can’t you paint their thumbs instead?”

“Definitely not.” Janie came back into the room, placed a container of tortillas on the table, and took the seat at the head of the table. “The nail polish could be toxic if swallowed, and they’re all constantly sticking their fingers into their mouths. But if you look at them again, you’ll see they’ve all got something on in their color too.”

“Ah.” Now Gabe saw it: Tia’s orange pants, Chloe’s purple tee, and Luna’s green onesie. “Ingenious.”

“I can’t claim credit, I’m afraid,” Janie said. “I saw it on TikTok.”

“So it’s for more than just thirst traps and making an ass of yourself dancing then?” Gabe spooned some chicken onto her tortilla and inhaled the spicy scent. “This smells so good, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Gabe snapped her attention to Solo. “You cooked these?”

Solo polished her nails on her shirt and looked smug. “You bet I did. Janie works crazy hours sometimes, especially when she’s working a big case. There’s only so much takeout you can eat, right?”

Janie ran her fingers across Solo’s forearm and squeezed. “And it has nothing to do with you being an amazing wife when you put your mind to it?”

Gabe smiled at the gentle show of affection and the way Solo blushed.

“You’re the amazing wife.” Solo took Janie’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “You gave birth to our three little miracles.” She looked across to Gabe. “Then she went back to kicking ass at work after just four weeks.”

“I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff, but I’m guessing that the way you’re saying it means that most moms take a lot longer?” Gabe took a giant bite of her fajita and nodded approvingly. “Tastes as good as it smells. I’m impressed.”

“You got it. The average is twelve weeks?—”

“But I’m quickly learning that your wife is anything but average,” Gabe said.

“Han told me that you went to visit your old canine colleague at the Sanctuary.” Janie smiled and smeared sour cream on her tortilla. “I had no idea that place existed.”

So Janie was modest too. She was rapidly becoming one of Gabe’s new favorite people. “Me neither until Toni floated it to the CO when he said Max would have to be put down.” Gabe clenched her jaw at the memory.

“So how was it?” Solo asked.

Gabe relaxed her jaw and found herself grinning at a series of altogether different and far more pleasant memories. “It was really good.”

Solo wagged her finger. “I know that look. It’s the woman who runs it, right? Toni said she was pretty.”

Gabe nodded. “Lori Turner. She’s an interesting woman.”

“You dog. You didn’t even wait to start rescuing women in broke down cars.”

“Explain,” Janie said before she sipped her wine.

Solo took Janie’s hand. “I told her that she’d find love here, just like I did.”