BEAR

The cats scatter when my alarm goes off at six a.m., just after the sun is up. I climb out of bed and realize I'm already in a bad mood. The feeling lingers after the crews arrive to install the playset and paint the kids' rooms. My family room is already filled with crap delivered yesterday for Jacinda and Hector.

The only thing to break my bad mood is a morning photo from Natasha. She usually sends me a message at night and a picture during the day. This one is a selfie with her and the kids cuddled in bed. When I look at them together, I feel left out. Even when I imagine them here, I assume I'll be off to the side.

Worried something will go wrong with today's work, I invited Sync—and his "dad brain"—to the house to help me supervise the changes. Carys decided to send Pork Chop to help, too. Somehow, this led to Golden, Indigo, Tack, and Claw showing up. The house is full of useless muscle by the time Noble and Zoot arrive.

"I have something to say," my president announces as he walks through the door.

Then, Zoot goes silent and strolls to where the kids' future bedroom is painted a pale blue. He doesn't ask why I paid a team of painters rather than have the guys come help me. We all remember the painting party debacle at Claw's house five years ago. They had to pull up brand-new carpet ruined by paint knocked over in a wrestling match.

"You fucked up my house," Claw reminds Pork Chop.

The two men are a half a foot apart, height-wise. Pork Chop peers down at Claw.

"You shouldn't have served beer until we were finished," Pork Chop mutters, tugging at Claw's long, blond ponytail before adding, "And who adds new carpet before painting? Backwards bullshit right there."

Claw's brown eyes glare at Pork Chop who just chuckles. Golden finds the men's battle hilarious, making me wonder if they got hammered before coming over.

"I had one of these," Noble says, squatting next to a still plastic-wrapped Cookie Monster chair. "Crazy how kids today still watch the stuff we did back as little shits."

Ignoring how Zoot frowns at him, Noble stands up and smiles at his brother. "You had a Big Bird blanket."

"Don't try to make me sentimental," Zoot sneers. "Won't happen."

"You cuddled with it every night," Noble taunts. "Little fucking bitch that you were."

Zoot tries to slap his brother who dodges the strike. I watch them and wonder why the fuck they're here.

"We're here to supervise," Noble replies when I voice my question out loud. "Also, we were curious."

"About what?"

Zoot spits out, "How are you going to take in another man's kids?"

"Why do you keep saying it like that? Your brother took in plenty of people's sons, asshole. Most of them are in your club now."

Shrugging, Zoot mutters, "Unlike Elvis, I don't believe in charity."

Chuckling, Noble leans into the second room getting a makeover. "Is this the boy's room or the girl's?"

"Neither. They're going to share. That's their playroom."

"You have all these fucking bedrooms," Zoot gripes, "and you're sticking them together? Stop thinking poor."

"It was Natasha's idea."

"She's thinking poor after living in that dump for too long. You need to teach her how to think like people with money."

"Why?"

"If you think poor, you expect little. If you expect little, you get nothing. Don't think poor."

"Is that what you came here to say?"

Zoot frowns at Noble checking out the boxes of kid crap stacked in my family room. When his brother doesn't acknowledge his glare, my president shrugs.

"I think I just meant to say how it's good how you're doing this shit with Natasha. I don't know who would do it otherwise. So, I'm glad you are."

"I think I might cry," Noble says, taunting Zoot's attempt to be warm. "Fucking beautiful."

Zoot looks ready to bulldoze his brother, but their attention is diverted by Sync who announces Tack and Indigo are making a grocery run.

"They're picking up food to grill," Sync explains. "Why not make this shit a party?"

"Why are you all here?" I demand. "Get out."

Zoot nods like I'm on to something. Before he can help me kick everyone out of my house, Elvis appears at the front door. He struts inside and asks what we're making to eat.

"Didn't you have a Grouch trash can?" Noble calls out to Elvis and shows him the box with the kids' future trash can inside.

Elvis smiles and swaggers over. "The dog used to piss on the side of it."

"That's what happened to Zoot's blanket, too," Noble says, and I realize I've gotten trapped in an O'Malley brothers nostalgia loop. "Skipper pissed on it again and again until it ended up in the trash."

I back away from their chatter and nearly run into Sync. Nearby, Pork Chop and Claw watch me like I'm hilarious.

"This is good practice," Sync says and pats my shoulder.

"Fuck off."

"No, really, man," Pork Chop insists, standing in my personal space and talking way too close to my face. "With kids living here, the house won't be quiet like you're used to. They get loud a lot."

"Think you'll have more?" Claw asks and looks around. "You've got space to add a few more critters."

I'll soon be like these three fucks. My life will revolve around asking, "Where are the kids?" all the time. When I visit Sync's house, he'll often stop mid-sentence and look around for the girls. Even when the twins aren't over at his place, he'll forget and worry about how quiet they're being.

"I told Natasha how I want a kid of my own. One with my blood in its veins, but I think I was just being me. You know, starting shit to start it. But I'm not sure I want a baby around."

"I like my kids," Claw says, and the other men nod. "They're smarter than I was at their age. I like how they look like their mom. I was an ugly, rough-looking boy, but my kids have Yvette's pretty face. I got lucky all around."

"How does that help me?"

Rubbing his hand over his bald head, Pork Chop says, "He's just talking, Bear. We do that a lot, where we share shit about our kids. You just never cared before because you didn't have any."

Shrugging, I glance at the bedroom where those two, tiny children will soon sleep. I've been on edge about them since Natasha said they were getting attached to the mansion. When I compared myself and my house to what they knew back with their dad, I felt like a fucking hero. Now, I'm worried I can't live up to their expensive tastes.

"I don't know how to be a dad," I say, looking around the place and seeing only flaws.

"Do you have any pictures of them?" Sync asks. "Like on your phone?"

I yank my phone from my pocket and swipe to one of them taken in my backyard.

Sync explains, "First thing is you've got to use their names a lot like it's really cool how they aren't just Thing One and Thing Two. Part of being a dad is acting as if your kids are the first ones to ever accomplish anything."

Feeling like they're fucking with me, I almost shove my phone back in my pocket. When they continue staring, I break under the pressure.

"This here is Hector," I mutter and point at the photo. "He's younger by four months but still three years old. It's complicated. I think his mom was a slutty chick or something."

"You're doing it wrong," Pork Chop interrupts. "You aren't supposed to focus on their flaws."

Sync takes my phone and looks at the men. "Hector is a little younger than Jacinda, but he's nearly as tall as his sister. Feisty little shit, too. Always smiling. Fun kid."

Frowning, I ask, "How do you know that shit?"

"What I said is generic enough to be anyone's kid. But Kiera also told me about her new friends."

"Well, the girl always smiles, too," I announce like Sync would about his daughters. "The kids are like twins."

"You forgot to say her name forty times," Tack says, sauntering over to us. "Like how Sync is constantly mentioning his daughters by name, as if anyone can tell them apart."

"I can," I grumble at him.

"No, you just think you can. I used to believe the same thing until I realized I'd been calling Deirdre by her sister's name for a year."

"That's why she doesn't like you," Sync replies and swipes through the pictures. "Here's a good one. Jacinda and Hector are great with animals. None of that fur-yanking bullshit like some little brats."

I look at the photo Natasha sent me two days ago. The kids are sitting together on the back of a horse. They look so little on the massive animal. As soon as I saw the picture, I wanted to get them down and keep them safe. But it's easy to care about someone when they're just an idea.

"I only ever wanted Natasha," I admit to the men. "I didn't think about the stuff that comes with having her. Like, I need to deal with her security detail. Plus, I have to be a good dad to these kids. I thought I could just move her in here and make a baby and be normal."

The guys get oddly quiet like I'm sharing too much. Tack pats my back and nods.

"We all come with baggage. Like, how Natasha will need to get used to us showing up here or you staying out late because you've got to deal with a dead fuck. Our lives are complicated, just like hers. But for the right woman, shouldn't you be willing to lose a part of yourself to win all of her?"

Tack's words settle my bad mood. I woke up feeling like my life didn't belong to me. That's something I haven't dealt with since I was a kid bouncing from house to house.

My current home might be mostly empty, but it's mine. I feel protective of it. I don't want so many people touching my stuff. I hate how my cats need to hide with these people around.

Another part of me resents painting those rooms or sticking a big playset in my backyard. It feels like this house is morphing from being mine to belonging to the kids.

Though I promised Natasha how I would view Jacinda and Hector as mine, I don't know them. We've met twice. I'm nervous about seeing them again. I imagine Hector and Jacinda liking their fancy mansion and spending time with all those employees who kiss their little asses. Will they think I'm so cool when I'm not bending over backward for them?

That's why Tack's words hit me just right. I've wanted Natasha for a long time, and she was nearly mine once. Less than three weeks stand between my current longing and calling her my wife.

To keep Natasha, I'm willing to redo the house and learn to be a dad. I can get used to security following us around whenever we go out somewhere. I'm willing to give up a whole lot of myself to make Natasha mine.