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“Hot!” I told him, carefully removing the handle from his grip.

“Tea.” He smiled. “Where’s the biscuit? ”

“We have…” I had to catch my breath. It was constant, the children, the keeping up, the having eyes in the back of my head again.

And it was also constant smiles and arguments and not a minute’s peace.

Just the way I liked it. Retired? Bah. I was in the middle of everything.

All the time. “Oat crunchies, shortbreads, Hobnobs.”

“Yuck,” he said, the little nugget, as I ruffled his hair. “I like the ones in the blue packet.”

“Hobnobs,” I offered, holding the packet out.

“Chocolate.” He nodded.

Okay. “Chocolate,” I agreed. “Chocolate Hobnobs.”

“Two,” he insisted. I gave in. Because I was a softie, and he was grinning, and I spoilt him. But then…this. Laughter, and the way he reached out and took two more biscuits.

“For you,” he said, placing them neatly on my plate. “And for Constance.”

“Thank you,” I said, my heart filling with joy. Small things. Tiny gestures that were absolutely everything. These kids. All my kids.

“Constance, can you show me where you saw this course? ”

“Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air. “I win. I’ll even do it with you, if you like. Then when we get on the plane, I can hold your hand. Feed you biscuits.”

She did as well. Picked one up from the plate in front of me and shoved it in my mouth.

Silly girl. But yes. I loved her. Fiercely. And like my son, violently so. I’d mow down crowds for her. Raise hell. Burn the world down if anyone ever hurt her. The same way I loved all these kids, mine or not.

These were my kids. Every single one of them.

“Maybe,” I said.

“We’re doing it. Now, where are the washing tablets?”

She was smiling because she knew full well where they were. She was just doing what she did. Manipulating me with a smile and a biscuit. Winking as I rolled my eyes.

The way we did.

“Hello!” The front door once again got flung open as Dylan walked in with his phone pressed to his ear, followed by Marmie, who flung his schoolbag on the floor and went straight for the fridge.

“Is there any food? ”

“Second shelf,” I pointed at the multitude of snacks available, none of which met his approval, as he just slammed the fridge door closed, then sat down next to me and promptly stole a biscuit.

“Dad, Stewart has agreed to do the fear of flying course with me.” Constance smiled sweetly.

“I’ve done nothing of the sort,” I boomed as my heart took a jolt. No. Not happening.

“You should. Challenge yourself a little.”

Said the man I loved. Nope. Not happening. Maybe.

“I told him that we want to go on holiday next year.”

“A holiday we can’t afford.”

“Gray said he’d pay. Just imagine. The Maldives, water villas, sea, sand…crabs on the beach.”

“You’ve been reading too many travel blogs.”

“But he’s right. We should go on a family holiday. All of us together. Jasmine and I will help plan it all.”

“I’m sure you would,” I said, trying to swallow down my discomfort.

Me. Holding everyone back .

“We could get married on the beach,” Dylan said. Bastard.

“Don’t you start,” I warned him, smiling, as he and Constance shared some kind of knowing look.

I hated it. Their scheming and tricking me into doing things.

“You’re in on this one, aren’t you?” I grumbled.

“Not guilty.” He held up his hands and kissed me. “This is all Constance’s doing. Well, apart from that, yes, I would prefer you going with the kids.”

He was fighting a hard battle, and I was giving in. I knew it. The idea still terrified me, but at the same time…

This was my Dylan. And I got it; of course I did. I would do anything for him. For the kids. For all of my children.

Just.

“And then when you’re all back, we’re going to go stay at that hotel.”

“Country house retreat.”

“No kids allowed.” Constance smiled. “I’m going on my school trip, and you guys are having a sleepover next door so Dad and Stewart can have some…” She gulped in mock disgust. “Alone time.”

“Yesss.” Marmie punched his fist in the air. “Jay’s got the new PlayStation, and we’re going to be up all night.”

“Not if I can help it,” Dylan said, kissing his son’s head. “And I’ll get Mommy to ring you and check that you’re in bed.”

“She won’t know. We’ll pretend to be sleeping and turn the lights out.”

“I’m sure Gray and Reubs will keep an eye on you. You can’t play tricks on them,” I suggested, as Marmie rolled his eyes. These kids. The death of me. I might as well go fly planes because I stood no chance here.

“Gray stays up with us. He let us stay up really late last time.” I wasn’t so sure of that. I knew those two, and yeah. Whatever made them happy.

“You deserve some time away from everything, Stewart. You work too hard.”

“I do. I don’t deserve to go on planes.”

“You’d get to stay in a nice hotel.”

“Can’t think of anything worse.”

“We’ll take you out. You can have burgers. And Twinkies! I miss Twinkies.”

“We can all go on a swamp tour. There’s alligators. Crocodiles. Mommy will no doubt be working all the time, and we’ll have to entertain ourselves.”

“What’s the difference between an alligator and a crocodile?” Marmie asked.

“I… We’ll have to Google that,” I said. “Good question, though.”

“An alligator will see you later, but a crocodile will see you in a while,” Marmie said triumphantly as Dylan gave him a high-five.

“Good one, son!”

“Then just think, you’ll get to have a weekend away with Dad,” Constance continued, clearly thinking she was winning this conversation. “A country house. Hot tubs on the veranda. Private dinners…”

“You’ll get me all to yourself.” Dylan was not helping here. “Well, maybe I won’t get a word in, since you know the owners. I might have to sit in that hot tub all by myself. ”

“Dylan,” I barked. Reined it in. God. “I very much doubt Mark and Finn will take any interest in me. It wasn’t like we knew each other that well. We were colleagues, and I got a good discount. Mates’ rates. They probably won’t even be there.”

I should be so lucky. Former colleagues or not, they’d always run a tight ship, and their little country venue had fabulous reviews. The views looked great—right by the sea, a short drive away. Not a plane in sight. I sighed.

“Constance, I’ll think about it. The course. Let me sleep on it, and I’ll see how I feel.”

“You won’t regret it. Look at it like this. You’ll cure your phobia, and then we get to go to the Maldives.”

“And I’ll get to see real crabs. And swamps. Big alligators.”

“It will be good,” Dylan said, wrapping his arms around me. “It would be a massive relief. For me. If you did.”

“And in return?” I was being a dick. I’d already agreed to all this madness. How could I say no?

Here was the man I loved, his son gently patting my arm and his daughter laughing at me as Marmie stole another biscuit .

“Stewart, I love you,” he said. My man. “And I’m not saying this to bribe you or make you do anything you don’t want to do or anything like that.”

“Bad timing, Dad.” Constance rolled her eyes.

“I know, but I kind of wanted to say it, and it’s…

Stewart, I’m rubbish at this. All of this.

I was going to wait until we went away on that break, but I want to ask you, because I think it’s the right thing to do, so you see where I’m coming from here.

And because I want to. And I’ve asked all the children. Even Reuben agrees.”

“Agrees to what?” I sighed. Chance? I stood no chance. Ever.

“Stewart. Will you marry me?”

“What?” I let that slip, didn’t I? The children cheered, and Dylan blushed.

Goddammit, Dylan.

I grabbed his face, and then I kissed him. Really kissed him.

“You’re an idiot.” Adrenaline talking.

“Got you a ring and all. Constance chose it.”

“You didn’t. ”

“Got paid for the Blackwell Heath job. Gave Jean a bonus and, well…rings.”

“Get married, Stew. You can’t get rid of us anyway.”

“Thank you, Constance.” I laughed.

Oh, gosh. Yes. Yes please.

“Might as well,” I said. Dylan grinned. “Idiot.”

“And when are we doing this…getting married bit?”

“The Maldives?” he said, the man I loved, as I rolled my eyes harder than Constance.

“I can’t believe you lot,” I whinged, though I actually loved it. How they schemed and manipulated me and did all the little things that made me so insanely happy.

“Well, I want to marry you,” he said. “I want this to be all…set in stone. For the future. The kids and…you know.”

“Not going anywhere,” I insisted. I wasn’t. Over my dead body.

“Just to New Orleans and back.” Constance laughed. Winked.

“The Maldives.” I sighed.

“Do you love me?” Dylan. The little shit.

“Always.” I smiled.

Then I kissed him.

The Maldives. What the hell had I just agreed to?

“You’ll love it,” Constance said, happily holding out her phone. “And I just booked us on the fear of flying course. It will be great. Can’t wait.”

Strangely?

Maybe I couldn’t either.

God help me.

“So what do you say? You want to do this marriage thing? For better or worse? All that song and dance?”

“Song and dance,” I said flatly. “I want the whole romance thing. The rings. The party. The—”

“Maldives. Beach wedding. Brass band.”

“That’s Jamaica.”

“I saw it on TikTok.”

“And you can have it right on the beach. ”

“In Jamaica?” I said. I shook my head, tried to shudder back into reality, because surely this wasn’t all real.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes. Of course.”

I had no idea what I had just agreed to, but yes. I’d do it all. Anything. Because I was happy. And then Dylan kissed me and I thought…

Yes. To all of it.

God help us all.