The timing of the building finishing could’ve been better. Or maybe the timing of my son’s arrival. Because smack in the middle of supervising the truck unloading—no way would Ward let me lift a finger—I’d gone into labor three weeks early. We’d barely made it to the hospital before Axel Julian Garrison made his entrance.

While I’d been birthing a whole human, our friends—minus Ophelia who was on Maeve duty—had finished moving us in.

Since we were all home and unpacked, we were having everyone over for a barbecue to thank them.

And also because I wanted barbecue.

“Go sit, Mama,” Ward ordered when I tried to bowl up the cold salads.

“I just gave birth. I’m not incapable.”

“Sit down, or I’m not telling you where I hid the cupcakes.”

I gasped. “You hid them from Maeve and her sidekick, not me.”

Our daughter and her cat teamed up to steal food way more than what could be considered normal.

The cat formerly known as Dumpster had been renamed Maze—after Maisie, the little girl I’d unknowingly helped Mayhem rescue. From the day we’d brought Maeve home, Maze had been attached. Ward had told me that Maisie was a self-proclaimed crazy cat lady, so it made sense to name our cat after her.

“Things change,” he said.

“Okay, then give me Axel.”

Ward shifted our sleeping son, but not into my arms. He moved him away from me.

Greedy baby-hoarder.

“My help or the baby,” I said firmly.

With a resigned sigh, he finally handed off my son. “Now sit.”

I was happy to.

Who wanted to do work when they could snuggle a newborn?

Ward brought everything out to our backyard paradise as our friends started arriving, carrying even more food.

More presents, flowers, and their own babies, too.

“Where’s my best friend?” Scythe loudly called the moment he walked through the door.

Soft footsteps—followed quickly by soft paw-steps—came from upstairs.

Maeve would’ve launched herself down the steps if Scythe hadn’t ordered, “Slow, kid.”

She gripped the rail and did as he said. But the moment her feet touched the floor, she was at full speed again. “Uncle Shit!”

We really have to work on her pronunciation.

I watched the quietest of the brothers laugh, just like every time she tried to say his name.

Never mind.

Ward had made it abundantly clear—with his words and actions—that our Maeve was just that.

Ours.

I hadn’t realized his found family would feel the same. No one said a peep about her not being his by blood. No one questioned why he’d sign on for it. No one asked him if he was excited to have a baby that was actually his. They’d been just as happy about Maeve as they were about Axel. No difference at all.