Page 86 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“And don’t you forget it!”

Seeing Olivia interact so flippantly with her family instead of being stressed to the gills was refreshing, and already my mind was shooting off in a dozen different futures, all of them packed with such family moments that I never knew I wanted.

When Serafina was gone, Olivia’s eyes locked with mine, and we had a quiet moment that felt completely detached from the rest of the loudness around us.

“You’re holding a baby,” she said a little wistfully.

“So are you.”

That was all that was said, and yet there was so much subtext beneath the words. Because it was easy to pretend that they were our babies.

I was in no rush to procreate. In fact, up until I’d started dating Olivia, I’d thought it was something locked out of my possibilities. But Olivia and I had discussed it, and the conclusion we came to was that we were both open to having biological children or adopting in the future, but neither of us felt ready or certain that was what we wanted.

However, with a baby cooing in my arms and the woman I loved standing across from me, it was easy to imagine that future together. One of sleepless nights and endless giggles, of all sorts of milestones that would fill me with pride and also make me want to cry. I still didn’t know if that was something I fully wanted, but if we chose that particular route, I was sure it would be amazing.

As long as we didn’t have twins. That seemed like a bit much.

“Do multiples run in your family?”

And then my phone rang. My heart practically leapt in my throat, and for a fleeting moment I thought that the baby in my arms was going to open his eyes and unleash his righteous fury at the ardent buzzing from my pocket. Luckily, he only let out a curious sound and both Olivia and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Here, hand him to me. That’s probably your mom.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Two babies at once seems kind of like⁠—”

“I realize you haven’t had the honor and horror of meeting them yet, but we’ve got triplets in this family. Trust me, I have plenty of experience holding two babies at the same time.”

She shifted Pollux so he was nestled in the crook of her arm before reaching out with her free arm. Trusting her, as she’d never led me wrong before, I handed Castor over and answered my phone on the last buzz.

Sure enough, it was my mother, sounding excited but also a little anxious across the line. “Hello, dear! I think we just pulled onto the block? I... Goodness, did we suddenly end up in a ritzy part of the suburbs? Because there are only three mansions here.”

“Yup, you’re on the right street. I’ll come out and greet you.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself in.”

I immediately thought of my mother being greeted by a sea of Rizolis. “I’ll meet you out front, Mom. Trust me.”

“Well, if you want to give me a handsome escort into what I’m sure is a real rager, I will not say no.”

“Great. See you in a second.”

I kissed Olivia’s cheek, who was indeed handling the babies like a pro, then rushed outside. And just in time to open the car door for her. Yes, I knew my mother was more than capable of letting herself out of a car, but she’d raised me to be a gentleman.

“You look nice,” she said, reaching up to pat the side of my face in a way that would have been condescending if anyone else but her or Olivia did it. Or maybe Nonna Rizoli. “When did you get this?”

“Olivia got it for me,” I said, always a bit prideful when it came to what an amazing fiancée I had. I’d met my share of wife guys in my life, and they always made me roll my eyes. Ironic, because I was most definitely a fiancée guy. “She says I need to wear turtlenecks more often.”

“I agree with her.” Of course she did. According to my mother, Olivia could do no wrong, which was exactly how I wanted it to be. While it did allow them to occasionally gang up on me, I would rather my mother and future wife be best friends than have to deal with the toxic family dynamics I heard of on various podcasts. I always hoped those stories were made-up for internet points because, frankly, they were so damn depressing. “It’s about time you got more invested in dressing yourself up.”

“Hey, I like my overalls and flannel shirts!”

“Believe me, I know you do.”

I wasn’t going to win here, so I decided to change the topic. “Enough about me. You look lovely today.”

When Olivia had told me the engagement party wasn’t black tie but also wasn’t casual, I had no idea what to wear. Thankfully, she’d gotten me the royal blue turtleneck as well as a new pair of shoes that were dressy enough that I would never wear them in the workshop without them being annoyingly uncomfortable. Where she got them, I had no idea, since it was hard to find anything outside the most basic shoe when I was a size sixteen, but I liked them way more than I thought I would.

My mother, however, had understood the dress code instantly. She was wearing a peasant blouse with a loose, flowy vest over it and then a nice…