I put a hand on my belly and imagined the life growing inside me. “Hi, baby,” I said softly, whispering so as to not wake them up. “You may not know it yet, but we are so lucky. Your daddies are the strongest, most wonderful men I’ve ever met, and they are going to be so crazy about you. I know you weren’t in the plans, but... I am so glad that I’ll get to meet you. That there will be ayouto meet.”
Foster leaned down and kissed my stomach. “Hi, little one,” he said. “Remember, Daddy Foster is the sanest of your daddies... and I can surf, so obviously, I will be your favorite.”
I giggled and touched his cheek. “This has been an eventful trip,” I said, “but this doesn’t suck.”
He smirked. “The cuddling or the group sex?” he teased.
“Both,” I told him. “Definitely both.” I glanced at a still-sleeping Callan and Ethan. “I hate to wake them, but... Mama’s hungry.”
“Your wish, as ever, is my command, Princess,” he said and then pushed Ethan so that he rolled off the bed and landed on the floor with athud.
Ethan stood, all sleepy rage. “What the fuck, man?”
Foster gestured at me. “Adrianne’s hungry.”
His demeanor shifted. “Let’s get her some food, then,” he said.
“We can’t dump Cal in the shower today, can we?”
“Better not. He got shot and all.”
I laughed as they bantered. Callan’s arm came around me and pulled me against him. I looked back at him, and he put a finger to his lips. “Solo cuddles while they get you food sounds good to me,” he murmured.
I nodded in agreement and settled against him. God, but I loved them. Hope bloomed in my chest, and I had a thought to the future, of seeing them bantering like this with a little girl running circles around them.
EPILOGUE: ADRIANNE
Eight Months Later
The twinges started in my lower back as my “glam team” was curling my hair. Quick, sharp pain that would disappear before I really had time to worry about it. Considering the Braxton Hicks contractions I’d been having for the last month, I wasn’t worried at the time.
Stepping onto the red carpet, though, the pains were coming pretty regularly. One was sharp enough that I had to excuse myself from the interview I was giving to clutch at my back and breathe.
“Uhm... are you okay?” the young—seriously, this kid had to be twenty years old—reporter asked me.
I held up a hand and took a few breaths to steady myself. “I’m... ” The wordfinewas on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t fine. “I think I’m in labor,” I said and hiccupped out a laugh.
The poor kid looked terrified. “Oh, my God! For real?”
Another contraction hit, and I nearly buckled in my way too tall heels. “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, for real.”
Callan appeared at my side, looking amazing in his tux. “Is it time?” he asked, completely ignoring the reporter, who looked like he was stuck between throwing up and fainting.
I nodded. “I guess we’ll have to see the movie another time.”
“They’ll live.” He put a hand on my lower back and steered me off the red carpet. Foster and Ethan were there to meet us.
“Where are you going?” It was Lee. He was marching off the carpet after me. “You’d better have a damn good exc—”
Foster stepped between the two of us. “Respectfully, Mr. Wynn,” he said, “you need to back off.” Ever since Australia, Foster had been my fiercest champion. He would be the first to step into a fray if need be.
Ethan put a hand on his arm, drawing him back. “Adrianne’s in labor,” he said. “She can either have the baby in the middle of the movie theatre, or we can take her to the hospital.”
Lee paled. “Oh, I didn’t...” he spluttered and then looked at me. “Go, go! We can do a private screening when you’re up to it, all right?”
I smiled at him, wincing as another contraction tightened my back. “Thanks, Lee.”
My men steered me to where limos were letting out celebrities. Ethan caught the door of one that had just let out some big-wig producer. “You mind if we borrow your ride?” he asked. “We’ve got a woman in labor, and our car has been parked by the valet.”