Two Weeks Later

I woke up to the weight of a heavy arm across my waist and the low rumble of three different breathing patterns in the same bed.

Damien’s chest was solid against my back. Ryker’s leg was thrown over both of mine, pinning me in place like he was afraid I might disappear. Dominic lay on my other side, fingers loosely tangled with mine even in sleep, as if he needed the contact.

The private wedding had been four days ago.

No guests. No dress that cost more than a car. Just a quiet judge’s office, Damien’s hand steady around mine, and the two other men standing as...