Chapter 26

Frank walked through the house shirtless, wearing only cotton shorts and a blanket draped around his shoulders. Barefoot, he cradled a crying baby against his chest, cooing softly and patting the tiny bottom to coax out the stubborn air bubble in the baby’s belly. Across the room, Veronica mirrored him. She wore a nursing bra, cotton shorts, and no shoes, wrapped in her own blanket with a wailing twin pressed to her chest, gently bouncing and humming in an effort to calm the baby’s discomfort.

The baby in Frank’s arms still wore the hospital band around his tiny ankle, a bold K written on it. Veronica’s baby had the same kind of band—only his bore a large N. Lucas was the baby with the K, while Leonard had the N. Frank had explained to Jane and Lisa that these were just simple markers used at the hospital instead of writing out the babies’ full names.

One of the kids had asked, “Why not a C, Dad?”

Frank hadn’t had a good answer for that, but K was just fine in his book.

The babies had stayed in the hospital for three days, just as a precaution. The WE had assured everyone they were healthy, but the hospital insisted. So they remained in the Level II NICU, where they were monitored constantly and kept warm and safe. Veronica—and the rest of the pack—brought them out regularly for feeding and cuddles, but at night, the babies remained under special lights, with expert doctors and nurses ready in case anything went wrong.

Now everyone was finally home. Frank was back from New York City. Veronica was home from the hospital. And the entire pack was pitching in to care for the newest additions.

As Frank paced the living room, Lucas finally let out a big, wet burp and settled down.

“Here, let me. You go get cleaned up and I’ll hold him,” Jane said, taking Lucas to be changed, then swaddled, and laid down for a rest. That much fussing could really wear a baby out.

Lisa stepped in just as Leonard did the same, giving Veronica a chance to clean her shoulder and chest before sinking onto the cuddle couch with the older children.

“Brothers sure are noisy,” Isabella said, snuggling close to Veronica.

“You were too, when you were born,” Veronica replied with a soft smile. “It’s just the way babies are.”

Jane, Lisa, and Frank all came into the family room and joined her on the cuddle couch, touching or holding one another with quiet affection.

Veronica, so completely at ease—body and soul—fell asleep among them. The others let her rest, knowing that a new mother does far more than just feed her babies—she’s healing, rebuilding, and working overtime to produce the milk that keeps them alive.

It was around one o’clock when one of the kids broke the peaceful quiet with the inevitable question:

“I’m hungry ... What’s for lunch?”

A chorus of “Yeah, me too!” followed, which got Frank moving toward the kitchen.

Cold cuts, bread, condiments, and snacks were all pulled from the fridge. He began laying slices of bread out in a neat row, setting up a little assembly line while the microwave popped a bag of popcorn in the background.

“LUNCH!” Frank called out, his voice echoing cheerfully down the hall.

The pack came into the kitchen, kids and adults alike. A sandwich was made and set aside for Veronica for when she woke—because tired mommies needed their rest, too.

As they relaxed—eating lunch, being together, and enjoying the moment—Frank let his mind drift to his history and what he’d accomplished in life. He had built a successful business, expanded it beyond Metro City, and watched common, everyday people walk into his clubs and find rest, passion, or simple comfort. Many had found excitement. Many had rediscovered a love of life. He had rescued people, married people, fathered children, and made true friends. He had even helped one of those friends find love—which blossomed into a pack and a baby of his own.

By any measure, he was successful—and no one could take that away from him.

Hey Frank, got a minute?

Grant’s voice came through the WE, quiet and private, not bothering the rest of the household.

Sure, buddy. What’cha got?

I’ve got an idea.

Oh no, Frank replied, sighing through the link. Those usually cost money. Tell me.

I heard through the grapevine someone suggested we expand into California. What do you think about that?

I’m fine with it, Frank answered. We just need to plan the right kind of club out there. The culture’s different—so the club needs to be different.

Sweet, Grant said, the excitement in his voice easy to catch. Frank noticed—it was something he’d come to recognize well after years of friendship.

Grant, what’s going on? Why the sudden thoughts of California?

A long sigh came through the link, heavy with emotion.

I’m not sure I want to raise my daughter in New York, Grant admitted after a pause.

Oh, I get that. New York is ... a lot. I’m glad to be home. I like Chicago just fine. You could move here, you know. I’m sure we could find you a very nice place to raise your family.

Grant laughed. No, Chicago’s not for me. Thanks for suggesting it, but no.

Well then, Frank asked, when are you moving?

I’ve got to broach the subject with Marisol first. She might have ... opinions.

Oh, she’ll have opinions, Frank chuckled. She’s from Chicago, remember? You might end up here anyway when it’s all said and done.

I know, Grant replied, laughing along. But we’ll face that decision when it comes. For now, I’m just glad to hear you like my idea about California.

Sure I like it, Frank said. We just need to design it right, that’s all.

Good. Okay. Then I’ll make some trips out west—take a look around, talk to some people, see what we can do.

You know this isn’t something you have to do, Frank reminded him.

I know. But considering your pack just added twins, they need you home more than we need you on the road. Take care of them. When the time’s right, we’ll travel together and check out the West Coast properly. Congratulations, by the way—twin boys. Wow. What a life you lead. Take care, my friend. Be well. We’ll talk again soon.

You too, Frank said.

The connection closed, and Frank came back to the present. He looked around. The kids had wandered off. Veronica was awake now, eating her meal. Lisa and Jane were chatting with her, scrolling their phones and laughing softly.

The whole scene was so peaceful, so loving and ordinary, he found himself wondering if he was in a Hallmark movie or something.

He snorted to himself, finished his lunch, and checked his email and the WE feed to see if anything needed his attention.

Nothing.

Frank didn’t know what to do with himself. He was so used to being busy running his company that having nothing urgent to handle left him adrift. He looked at his wives—each one beautiful in her own way. Jane, the maternal master, was mom personified. Lisa, his twin in spirit, had a mind for business and organization that kept the Chicago club humming smoothly, while also keeping the household in rhythm. And Veronica—Veronica was just sexy. She could get a rise out of a dead man and loved her work at the club. Now, she’d stepped into the role of mother with the same fierce passion she had for dancing—and for him.

“How did I get so lucky, my loves?” he asked aloud, drawing their attention.

They all smiled, exchanging a knowing glance before Jane spoke first.

“Do you want an honest answer or something to laugh about?”

Frank set his plate aside and leaned forward in his chair, giving them his full attention. “Let’s go with honest first. Then we’ll see if the funny answer holds up.”

All three snorted.

“Fine,” Jane said, her voice soft and sincere. “We’re here, as your wives and your loves, because you are open and honest.”

Everyone sighed at the truth of it.

“And the funny reason?” Frank asked, bracing himself.

“Because God got tired of watching you sulk in expensive suits and thought, ‘Fine. Let’s send three women to fix it,’” Jane said with a perfectly deadpan expression.

“You weren’t lucky, baby,” Veronica added. “You were claimed. And we’re still deciding if we’re keeping the receipt.”