Page 21 of Dax (Big Hot Alphas 1)

I open my eyes and am met with the sight of our twins, Cara and Linnea, at the side of my bed.

My heart bursting with love, I pull their cheeks toward me one at a time for kisses. “Thank you, sweetie pies.”

“Come on! Get up!” they insist, tugging on my arm.

I yawn and reach for my watch, which is sitting in one of my handmade bowls on my bedside table. I’m still making and selling my little bowls online, and I love it just as much as the day I started.

I check the time on my watch. It’s a quarter to eight. I yawn again. “Don’t I get to sleep in on my own birthday?”

“But Daddy madebreakfast,” the girls say.

Come to think of it, thereisa really delicious smell coming from the kitchen. I slide out of bed and follow my giggling girls downstairs.

When I step into the dining room, I beam at the breakfast spread set out on the table. There’s freshly squeezed orange juice, toast, eggs, fresh fruit, bacon, the works.

To be fair, though,anythinglooks amazing sitting on this gorgeous bookmatched table that Dax made for us.

It will forever be my favorite piece of his.

When Dax walks in with a plate of towering waffles adorned with birthday candles, I burst out laughing. He brings the plate over to me and gives me a kiss.

“Happy Birthday, honey.”

“Thanks, baby,” I say, blowing out the candles. “This all looks amazing.”

“Sit down. Eat. I’ll bring you some coffee.”

“I want coffee, too!” says Cara.

“Me too!” says Linnea.

“Since when do you two like coffee?” I say, scoffing. “And no, you maynothave any.”

The girls both groan. Soon, though, they’re too focused on eating breakfast to care anymore.

While the four of us eat—and while Bear waits impatiently by the table for scraps—we talk about what we’re going to do today. The girls want to go on a hike, and I agree that sounds wonderful; we also have dinner plans tonight with my parents.

My mom and dad have both been doing great; they’ve enjoyed being grandparents so much. And, thankfully, my dad hasn’t had any more health scares. At the last checkup he went to, the doctor was amazed at how great his heart looked.

“Do you want to open your birthday present, Mommy?” Linnea asks me.

“Shouldn’t I wait until we’re with Grandma and Grandpa?” I say.

The girls look impatiently at their father. Dax grins at me. “They’rereallyexcited about it, Bail.”

“All right, let’s do it, then,” I say.

The girls rush away to go get the present and I move over to sit on Dax’s lap, giving him a kiss and thanking him for the wonderful morning. I’m in the middle of whispering in his ear about all the ways I’m going to thank him later tonight when the girls come running back in.

“I want to give it to her!” Cara cries.

“We’llbothgive it to her, silly,” Linnea says.

Together, my girls hand me my birthday present, their faces beaming with pride.

“Aw, girls,” I say, taking it from them. Carefully, I remove the wrapping paper.

Inside is a wooden birdhouse—a beautifully crafted birdhouse painted in the most wild, lovely way.

“We made it for you, Mommy!” they exclaim.

I look at Dax, who grins and nods. “With a little help.”

I laugh and draw my girls into my arms.

“I love it, girls,” I say. “It’s absolutely perfect.”