Then she stated, “I’m still calling our dog Punk.”

Whiz whined.

Liv pressed into him and giggled.

Nick listened to her giggle, feeling her body moving against his.

Oh yeah.

They were staying here. He’d die a slow death by hamburger recipes, copious use of salad dressing and Olivia’s driving need to add crumbled Reese’s cups to every dessert she made here. He’d be anywhere and do anything that made Liv giggle, openly happy.

That said, he was not calling his dog Punk.

* * * * *

Livvie

Seven Months Later

Six O’clock in the Morning

Thirty Minutes after Dawn

I sat on Nick’s knee.

“One, two, three…” I whispered into his ear, watching surreptitiously.

“It’s still five, babe,” Nick stated, sounding like he was smiling.

Five.

Yowsa.

Little Sylvie pushing that many out.

I watched her with the swaddle in her arms, holding it second nature, sitting and gabbing with Anya.

I turned my eyes back to the mayhem of our yard. Adults, but mostly kids, everywhere. Kids going crazy because their wedding gift from Nick and me were Nerf guns. Kids going crazy because it was way early and they’d had donuts for breakfast. Kids going crazy because Whiz liked kids (and showed it) but Whiz might like Nerf darts better (and showed that by trying to eat them, something Kat was in charge of making sure he did not do, a job she took very seriously if her stern eyes on our prancing puppy were anything to go by).

“Hanna and Raid gonna stop at three?” I asked.

“According to Hanna, yeah. Raid wants another baby girl,” Nick answered.

“Cassidy and Deacon just the two?” I went on.

“Just the two girls. Like Knight and Anya, gonna stay that way, if you ask Deacon. Though Cassidy wants a boy. I had to guess, she’ll be knocked up soon. Deacon doesn’t say no to his woman very often.”

I knew how that went.

I watched the mayhem, feeling a little bit guilty (but only a little bit) because I’d caused that mayhem, forcing these families to get up early, buying the kids’ everlasting love through Nerf guns and unlimited access to a Labrador mutt puppy, all so I could marry Nick at dawn.

My eyes went back to Sylvie.

One day.

One day it’d be second nature to me too.

I sat in my simple (but elegant) strapless, chiffon wedding gown on Nick’s knee, wondering—even if I’d lived through every second—how I got there.

How I found my way to happy.

It hit me.

I’d gone to a sex club and essentially jumped Nick.

On that thought, it started slow, just with my body shaking, but I didn’t try to hold it back.

I didn’t hold anything back anymore.

I didn’t have to control it.

I was free to be me.

It built to chuckles, sitting on my husband’s lap in my wedding gown on our wedding morning, laughter bubbling inside me.

“Shade,” he called.

I didn’t answer.

“Shade,” he called again, this time on a squeeze.

I kept my gaze to the mayhem and again didn’t answer.

“Baby,” he called, lifting a hand to my chin and turning me to face him.

The instant my eyes hit blue, I corrected, “Sebring.”

That blue lit like the ocean on a cloudless day, bright and sparkling.

And his voice rumbled through me, echoing how I felt at that moment, a way I’d feel for eternity—proud and happy—when he replied.

“Sebring.”