Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“So, where are the babies?” Debra demands, slicing straight through the noise with her eyes locked on Beckett.
He shrugs, somehow managing to radiate both regret and pride. “We left them at home with Mr. Snugglebutt. Figured the first brunch should be just us.”
“Absolutely not.” Debra plants both hands on her hips in perfect mom-mode. “You bring those babies next Sunday. I want all three of them here.”
Atlas cackles. “And make sure they’re wearing matching outfits.”
Sage perks up, outrageously excited. “That would be so cute!”
I have found my family. It takes everything I have not to burst into tears right there in the middle of the dining room.
Seriously, I’m on the verge of a full ugly cry, but I keep my shit together because Beckett’s hand is firm on my waist and his mom is already plotting matching dog-and-cat sweaters for next Sunday. These people are unhinged, and I love them.
Beckett’s lips brush my ear, low enough so only I can hear him. “You okay, Hot Doc?”
Okay? I’m one emotional hiccup away from melting into a puddle on the floor, but in the best possible way. “Yeah,” I manage, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I’ve never had this before.”
His hand slides up my back, all heat and reassurance, his calloused firefighter's palm leaving a trail of warmth through the thin fabric of my blouse. "You do now. You have all of it. You have me, and I'll love you until my last breath," he murmurs, his deep voice rumbling against my ear, sending shivers down to my toes.
God. My heart detonates in my chest.
Dawson fake gags, and his wedding band catches the light as he dramatically clutches his throat. "Stop all the gooey stuff before I lose my appetite."
"Shut up, asshole," Beckett growls back, his arm tightening protectively around my waist, muscles flexing beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeve.
"Fu—" Dawson's growl is cut off by his father's steel-blue glare, the same one that probably stopped a thousand teenage arguments in this very room.
For the first time in my entire life, I realize I’m not on the outside looking in anymore. I’m right in the thick of it. The loud, messy, overwhelming heart of this family.
“Are you okay, honey?” Debra squeezes my hand, her smile warm enough to melt every doubt I ever had.
I nod, fighting back tears of my own. “I’m more than okay. I think I just… found my home.”
Beckett hears me. I can feel him smiling at my side, so big and proud and happy it practically rearranges all my internal organs.
He leans close, voice so low only I can hear it. “Told you.”
He was right.
It’s fast, it’s overwhelming, and it’s the best decision I’ve ever made.
I’m a Hot, and these crazy people are my tribe.
Bring on the chaos. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
EPILOGUE 2
BECKETT
Four years can change a hell of a lot.
I used to think of home as the place I came to recharge after work—quiet, crisp, controlled. I’d sit at my kitchen table, hunched over reports or planning the next week’s drills, obsessing over whether I’d left the station one percent more efficient than when I arrived.
Now? Now I pull into my driveway after a ten-hour shift at the firehouse, and the second I kill the ignition, I know I’m in for it. And I couldn’t be happier.
The entire front porch is littered with sidewalk chalk and tiny pink flip-flops, and there’s a suspicious smear of glitter on the door handle.
I brace myself and step inside.
Instant chaos. The air hums with toddler giggles, something squeals—could be the pig, could be the dog, hell, maybe the cat—and there’s a high-pitched soundtrack of “Pretty! So pretty!” echoing down the hall.
I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. Exhaustion? Gone. I barely get my boots off before Elsie waddles up the hall, belly-first, her hair in a wild mess and cheeks flushed. She’s eight months pregnant, all curves and attitude, and she’s absolutely gorgeous. Jesus, I never get tired of seeing my girl like this. Glowing. Fierce. Mine.
She closes the distance and tips up on her toes to press her lips to mine. The kiss is soft, sweet, but there’s a wicked spark in her eyes when she pulls away. Her hand drops to her belly, fingers splayed, and she eyes the absolute disaster zone behind me like she’s about to charge into battle. “You ready for the chaos, hottie?”
Damn right, I am. I slide my palm over her bump and grin down at her, heart thundering. “Bring it on, Hot Doc. You know I live for this shit.”
I drop my bag next to the door, toe off my boots, and follow the ruckus straight to Ember’s bedroom.
Her door’s half-shut, but the commotion seeping through the crack is pure, unfiltered mayhem. A unicorn light casts stars across the warzone. Stick-on gems sparkle from every available surface. There’s a plastic mirror on the floor, reflecting a pile of abandoned glitter tubes and ten thousand hair clips.