Epilogue

My dream of having a big family had come to fruition. My babies growing up with an awesome dad who was there for every milestone, an aunt and uncle who loved them almost as much as we did, cousins who were like siblings, and an entire club that was family.

They also had a grandmother and grandfather who lived to spoil them. My dad's criminal case progressed quickly, and he was only sentenced to fourteen months of jail time. With parole, he was back home in just under a year, so he hadn't missed much after Kaylee—Kiara and Knight's first—and Callum were born.

Being in prison had changed him. Even before I managed to mostly forgive him for everything he'd done, he still reached out several times a week after his release just to let me know that he was thinking about Callum and me. And as the kids got older—and multiplied—he showed up for all their activities. Even all their toddler classes, like toddler tumbling and mini music. He showed up for them in ways he'd never been able to with me, and I appreciated it.

There were some exceptions, though. My parents weren't at the compound today for the big barbecue since my dad didn't spend much time around the club. After what he'd almost done to Rom—and how much his secrets had hurt Kiara and me—he'd only ever received a lukewarm welcome when he came around. Not that he ever complained. He knew that he'd earned their mistrust.

Crosby came toddling over and pulled me out of my thoughts. Crouching low, I sighed over the chocolate stain on his T-shirt. "Did someone let you into the brownies already, baby boy?"

"Nuh-uh." He shook his head. "Ice cream!"

"I should've known." My middle child had been hooked on ice cream ever since his daddy gave him his first taste when he turned one. He would happily eat it for every meal if only we'd let him. "Did you have a hot dog first?"

The way his eyes widened as he nodded let me know he probably hadn't finished it, which my husband confirmed as he walked over to us with our daughter Camila strapped to his chest and a plate with slices of uneaten hot dog in his hand.

Stabbing one of the pieces with a fork, I held it next to his lips. "If you eat all five pieces, you can have another small scoop of ice cream later."

"Yay!" he cheered, opening his mouth wide so I could feed him before doing a little dance.

I beamed a smile at Cash. "Thanks for making sure he got one without grill marks on it."

"He would've screamed the yard down if I dared to serve him a striped hot dog." Cradling the back of Camila's head with his free hand, he leaned over to brush his lips against mine. "Crosby has no problem making sure everyone within a mile radius knows if he's unhappy about something."

I laughed as I fed our toddler another bite. "Probably because he's always trying to get his big brother's attention."

Callum was only a year older—close enough in age to Kiara's middle child that we got to experience most of our second pregnancies together too—and he was Crosby's favorite person in the world. Callum was a mama's boy, Camila was a daddy's girl, but Crosby was a big brother's boy all the way.

"Very true," Cash agreed, his gaze darting over to the bouncy house where our eldest son was currently playing. "The only reason he didn't kick up a fuss about eating a hot dog in the first place was because Callum scarfed one down first."

"Thank goodness one of our sons is a good eater." I heaved a deep sigh and stroked my finger across Camila's chubby cheek. "This one, too."

"At least none of yours are as picky as Kennedy," Kiara complained as she joined us. "I swear, she and Crosby come up with a whole new list of foods they hate every time they're together, and then she adds a dozen more when she gets home. Including things that she loved the day before."

"She's definitely a handful."

"That's for sure," she muttered.

Crosby asked for a drink, so Cash gave me a quick kiss before he led him over to one of the picnic tables to get him one.

"My mom mentioned that Kennedy loved the ground beef and rice casserole she made when the kids were all over at their house last week. I'm sure she'd be happy to give you the recipe. Maybe it hasn't been added to the no-go list yet," I suggested.

"I just might do that," she murmured.

"I'm glad." I darted a glance at her and decided to broach a subject I'd been avoiding for years. "Sometimes I feel bad bringing up my mom and our dad since they worked through all of their problems and are so happy together now."

Kiara waved off my concern. "You shouldn't. That water is well under the bridge. My mom never made him happy and is already on her third rich husband, for goodness' sake."

Remembering how awful she'd said the last wedding was, I cringed. "Did she invite you to this one?"

"Nope." She shook her head and laughed. "She wasn't a fan of how I turned her down last time. Now I'm just another skeleton in her closet that she doesn't want exposed to whatever man she's managed to hoodwink long enough to get the ring on her finger. You won the mom lottery compared to me."

"I'm more than happy to share mine with you."

Kiara beamed a smile at me. "You'd better. Most of what I've learned about being a good mom has come from watching her."

"You're an awesome mom."

"So are you."

Yeah, I'd definitely found the perfect family.