Page 139 of Donovan's Men

I sighed. “This is nuts.”

Hamish chuckled. “Well, parenting is the normal biological reaction and ensures the continuation of the species—”

“Fuck that.” Tyson glanced at the two of us holding infants. “I have all the admiration in the world for you.” He winked. “Just glad it’s not me.”

Since I echoed his sentiment whole-heartedly, I merely nodded.

Caressa reappeared looking slightly less disheveled. She wore a long skirt and a flowery button-down blouse.

Beau squawked.

Hamish hushed him.

“Oh, it’s feeding time.” Caressa took the baby.

And while I expected Michael or Cole to head to the kitchen, Caressa merely plopped down on the comfortable chair, opened her blouse, bared her breast, and encouraged the baby to suckle.

Tyson made a strangled sound.

Hamish chuckled. Yeah, he’d seen this all before.

Cole plopped down on the sectional, facing the three of us who’d naturally crowded together. Safety in numbers.

Even as I pivoted my attention to Cole, Beau’s fine blond hair struck me. Ah, so as much as they claimed they didn’t want to know, odds were Beau was Michael’s progeny.

“So you closed on the property?” Cole’s question caught me off guard.

“Yes.” Hamish nearly bounced in his seat. “And to find something in the hills north of Mission City, that we could afford, was so lucky. We’re not even an hour from Vancouver.”

Our escape from the city. A place all our own.

Well, we also had a place in the city. After extensive—and exhaustive—deliberations, we’d all decided to sell our places and to buy a four-bedroom house in Kerrisdale. The house was older and needed extensive renovations, but it had a huge basement.

And no neighbors to hear when we, uh, made use of the dungeon.

As we’d discovered that long-ago night here in Cole’s dungeon, Hamish was the perfect bottom I’d known he would be, and Tyson’s innate curiosity made him an excellent switch. He enjoyed taking as much as he enjoyed giving.

“Will this property need as much work as your home?” Michael plopped down at Caressa’s feet and let out a weary sigh. “You know I’ll help with whatever you need.”

He’d done the structural assessment of the Kerrisdale property and had recommended a contractor to do the inside work. Oh, and ensured the project had come in early and under budget.

“This one is not a fixer-upper.” Hamish’s voice betrayed his relief. We’d all hunkered down in his condo for the duration of the renovations—which hadn’t been a hardship for me. Or for Tyson. But Hamish’s introvert nature meant he needed time to disconnect. One of the bedrooms in the new house was set up as his office—along with a daybed. The space was entirely his, and he could cocoon there whenever he needed to.

The cabin in Mission City had two bedrooms, and we’d dedicated one to Hamish as well. Of the three of us, he was the only one who really brought work home anyway. Well, I might plan choreography, and Tyson might do research into cases, but we didn’t need a dedicated space to do either of those things.

Caressa handed Beau over to Cole, who placed the infant to his shoulder and gently patted his back.

“Harder or he’s not going to burp.” Caressa tsked. “Honestly.”

Cole shrugged sheepishly.

Caressa indicated she was ready for Becca, and as Hamish rose to bring the baby over, she bared her other breast.

This time Tyson clearly tried to hold in the noise.

Barely.

“How long is your maternity leave?”