“Babe, I’m in the house. You don’t have to call me,” he said into the phone, smiling because she had to be there somewhere too. He was meeting her and the boys there and they were going out to dinner with his family at The Spaghetti Factory.

“Um… well, I’m not in the house, I’m at the hospital.”

Brock stopped dead, his eyes, unseeing, on a fancy-ass cake stand on the corner of the counter that held the remains of his birthday cake that had been nearly decimated by him and his boys that morning.

She went on quickly. “I’m okay. The boys are okay. It’s just Lenore. She’s kind of…” She paused. “Not okay. She went into labor about three hours ago. Levi got her to the hospital and was separated from her because he was told both mother and child are in distress.”

Fuck.

Fuck!

He did the calculations in his head and came up with an unhappy number.

Lenore, who became his sister-in-law three weeks before Christmas and not because she was pregnant but because Levi loved her—the baby was just good news on top of good news—was only six months pregnant.

“Which hospital?” he asked.

“St. Joe’s,” she answered.

“I’m on my way,” he stated, turning back to the door. “The boys with you?”

“No, I called Dade. He went to get them at school. They’re at his house helping him with Grady, Dylan, and Ellie.”

Even though many would think it was fucked, Dade McManus had slid into their lives naturally and this was because Tess made that happen. He was a good addition because he was a good man, he loved Brock’s boys, and he adored Tess. Brock grew to like him, grew to respect him, and he’d earned that back from McManus. This worked. How, he had no clue. But it did and Brock was glad that it did. As far as he was concerned, anyone who loved his boys and adored his wife was welcome in their lives, so Brock welcomed him. And, just then, he was happier than usual that he did.

“Right.” He was out the door and locking it.

“Baby,” she whispered in his ear.

“Yeah?”

“Hurry.”

Fuck.

* * *

When Brock arrived in the waiting room at St. Joe’s, Levi was sitting with his elbows to his knees, his torso bent double, his fingers laced at the back of his head.

Brock’s eyes slid through his wife, his sisters, his mother, and his brothers-in-law as he walked to Levi.

None of their faces were happy birthday faces.

He crouched down in front of his brother.

“Brother,” he murmured. Levi’s hands unlaced and just his head came up.

“Slim,” Levi whispered. “Fuck, Slim.”

Brock’s arm moved out, his hand curling around the back of his brother’s head.

“Keep it together,” he whispered.