She’d probably be disappointed Camden didn’t show up tonight, but he needed a night off. He’d worked his ass off all week and wanted a weekend to unwind, regress, and have fun without worrying about filters and social standards.

On the second floor, I took a step back again while Camden browsed for stuffies, and August came up behind me and threaded our fingers together.

“I never thought I’d trust anyone with Camden,” he murmured. “That was before I met you and discovered what a protective Daddy you are.”

I smiled and kissed his jaw. “I love you.”

“Beyond words.” He squeezed my hand and grinned at Camden, who was clearly struggling to choose between an orange and a green M&M stuffie. “You know what he asked me yesterday when you were at work?”

I shook my head.

“When I was going to ask you to marry me. Because Daddies should be married, he said.”

Cazzo. I took a breath, my stomach suddenly a tight mess, and side-eyed him. “Seriously?”

He nodded.

I cleared my throat. “So, uh…what did you tell him?”

He flashed me a charming smirk and took the first step toward where Camden was. “When the time is right. But that I’d be surprised if I could wait more than a few months.”

The bastard left me standing there alone to process that little tidbit while he helped Camden decide on a toy.

All I could blurt out was, “Give him both stuffies! And all the candy he wants.”

A few months later

“When’re you coming home?” Pop demanded to know. “Nonna’s actin’ like it’s a sin for youse not to celebrate your engagement where she can participate, and it’s me she’s complainin’ to all day!”

I chuckled into my phone and closed the door to my recording room. “I made sure Nicky put the dates on your fridge, Pop. We fly back in two weeks before the new semester starts, and we’ll host an engagement dinner the weekend after.”

He made an unhappy sound and started muttering. “Still don’t see what’s so fuckin’ great about Nashville. Families belong together, Anthony. You’re breakin’ our hearts ova’ hea’.”

Jesus Christ. I trailed into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. “I’m so glad you’re one of those chill old men who never exaggerates.”

“Stai zitto!” He told me to shut up. “Don’t get cute. You give me shit for tryna keep the family together—that’s the thanks I get.” He scoffed.

Thank fuck we were having a small wedding. Much easier to get hitched in private and then do a tour and visit our families and take them out for dinner. I couldn’t imagine trying to get everyone to one place at the same time.

“You want me to bring you back more of that jerky?” I asked conversationally.