I made my way to the kitchen to drop off the turkey, and Joan was there, tasting what the cook wanted her to. Now Joan and our dads was a whole different thing altogether. Joan had gone to rehab, she felt she needed to, in order to learn how to be part of society again. After that, she’d taken a couple of additional courses to bring her degree back up to speck, and then she’d gone back to work.
As for our dads, well, they each got divorces. Amicable ones, and if I wasn’t mistaken, they were all chasing after Joan. I wasn’t sure if they’d caught her yet, but I’d say from the way they were always watching her, something was cooking between them all.
I laughed as Joan let out a moan of pleasure. “This is so good.”
After putting the turkey and a few groceries on the counter, I went in search of my woman. I found her in the swimming pool, wrapped around Gideon, with Mateo behind her, and off to the side was Dante, notebook in hand, capturing the moment, like only he could.
We were all happy.
That was what I saw when I looked at us. Happiness, and no one could take that away.
Sian opened her eyes and smiled at me. “William, you’re back.”
“Tell him,” Gideon said, with a growl.
She gasped as Mateo kissed her neck. “Yeah, baby, tell him.”
Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head, and I wanted to scream for them to tell me whatever news they had.
“On the table,” Sian said. “Look.”
I stood and walked toward the table. Sure enough, there was a pregnancy test. My heart started to race as I picked it up.
“Is this…”
“Positive,” Sian said. “I’m pregnant.”
I stripped down my clothes and jumped into the pool. After I swam to her, I cupped her face, turned her toward me, and kissed her hard and deep.
I heard the water being tread, and then Dante was there on the other side.
“Our parents are around,” Sian said.
“They’re more interested in each other than us,” Gideon said. “We’re celebrating making them grandparents.”
“I have no idea how we’re going to raise a kid, but I do know there’s no one else in the world I’d want to raise one with.” Sian looked at each of us. “I love you guys so much.”
We each kissed her, holding her, loving her. We loved her, too, and that was never going to change.
Epilogue Two
Sian
Ten years later
“How long are you going to be?” I asked. “I’ve just picked up Dolly from dance practice, and Brianna is pooped. She’s so tired.”
I held my youngest girl in my arms as I looked left and right down the street. Dante had dropped me off before going to his studio. There were a couple of clients coming to pick up some artwork they’d bought. He was so amazing at what he did.
Over the years, he’d been asked to paint for so many different occasions and people. Of course, he only picked what he really felt about. If there was no emotion, he wasn’t interested, and I didn’t blame him. His art was his own and there was no taking that away from him.
Kind of like my stories.
After ten years of hard work, I was finally a successful, bestselling author. I had released three books, all of which had been a dream come true. In between writing, I took care of my two daughters, with a third child on the way, and my four husbands. To the outside world, I was only married to Gideon, but we lived in a large house, and what went on behind those walls, well, it was the kind of thing I wrote about. Happiness, love, sex, it was everything all wrapped up in four amazing guys.
Each one so different from the other, but I couldn’t live without any of them. They all owned my heart and soul.
Then, of course, there was our deal with The Society. Over the last fifteen years, we’d all had to do our part for this private organization. I didn’t know who was a member and who wasn’t.
I’d wake up or be given so many different challenges, from taking files, to leaving paperwork, to helping, or … killing. That one had been one of the hardest I ever had to do. After Brianna was born, a single envelope had been left for me with a time, date, and a location, along with a single syringe.
No questions.
None of us ever asked any questions.
The woman had been an addict and a prostitute. There had been a boy in her care. I noticed the bruises on his small body. The pain in his eyes, and I’d known. After I killed her, it had taken every ounce of strength to walk out of that room. If I was supposed to take the boy, they would’ve told me. They didn’t.