When the rest of the guests had settled back into their own conversations, Sam turned to Valen. “We’re getting married?”
Valen’s cheeks darkened. “Please?” he looked at Sam with the hugest puppy eyes Harris had ever seen.
Harris kicked Valen’s feet. “That’s how you’re proposing?”
Valen grimaced. “Sorry. That was spur-of-the-moment.”
Kind of like how they’d ended up with Sam, but maybe there was something to be said for that technique. If they could’ve redone that very first meeting, Harris wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
“I’ll think about it,” Sam mumbled, his cheeks pink.
Would Harris mind being married to Sam, or Valen? Hell, no. But this acceptance of their bond was only the first. It could be the only one, and maybe Harris should step back, let the public’s attention fall on only Valen and Sam.
“Stop worrying and start eating,” Valen whispered, dragging his foot down Harris’ calf. “It’ll turn out fine.”
Harris lifted an eyebrow. “You think so?”
Valen nodded. “Yeah.”
Valen caught Harris’ hand, stroked his ring finger where a wedding band would be. Then he did the same with Sam’s hand, and Sam fumbled with his chopsticks.
They’d come back to this discussion another day.
Harris bit into the cool tofu, with its mellow tang of salt, and the smoky, paper-thin fish.
He’d spent hours with Sam grinding up soybeans, making tofu in the mansion’s kitchen. Tasted pretty damn good, now that he was eating food he’d made himself.
The dumplings had cooled, but their skins were still crispy. Inside, the garlicky truffle oil had infused into the ground pork, and a nutty trace of sesame tickled his taste buds.
Couldn’t say he was a fan of the salmon sashimi, but that fish was fresh. Smooth, sweet, firm, complemented perfectly by the bite of soy sauce.
The ramen, though. That had to be the star of the reception, with its springy noodles, the savory broth simmered for hours, and the sweet-salty flavor of tender, marinated pork.
He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been, until he was staring at an empty bowl.
Valen was watching him, and so was Sam, amusement gleaming in their eyes.
“You’ve never eaten here, have you?” Valen asked. “Sam’s cooking is the best.”
Somehow, despite all the food they’d made for practice, Harris had missed sampling the noodles. “We’ll be back,” he said. “You’ll probably get tired of our faces, Sam.”
He meant it, too.
Sam laughed, blushing. Then he looked down the table, waving at Wyatt. “Ready for the cake?”
“Yes, please.” Wyatt beamed.
They began by clearing the table. Hazel helped, and Wyatt’s four-year-old, Ben, climbed off his seat, reaching out with his tiny hands. Raph caught Ben in his arms. “You’ll help everyone by staying here,” Raph said gently. “Maybe when you’re older.”
Sam watched them, a soft look in his eyes. Yeah, he really wanted a baby. Harris could understand that, could taste Sam’s anticipation whenever he looked at his own abdomen.
Harris wanted to take their child hiking in the forest, watch their baby while Sam fed him milk and cereal and applesauce. He could already imagine their child sitting on Valen’s shoulders, Valen wrinkling his nose when he changed the diapers.
If Harris and Valen gave Sam the box of baby clothes in the spare bedroom, Sam would be delighted. Harris knew it.
But that was a big if. Harris needed to know that their baby would be okay.
They were carrying the cake out between them, Sam with a stack of plates and forks, when Wyatt made a soft noise.
“What is it?” Raph asked.
Wyatt waited for Valen and Harris to set the Black Forest cake in front of him, three tiers of chocolate cake sandwiching cherry preserve, all iced with fresh whipped cream.
“I think my water just broke,” Wyatt said. The entire table looked over.
Harris held his breath. Couldn’t do anything right now. They’d have to wait until Wyatt went into labor, anyway.
“Let’s cut the cake first.” Wyatt smiled sheepishly. “And then we’ll head for the hospital.”
“Better make it quick,” Raph said. “Didn’t take long when you had Ben.”
Sam handed Wyatt a knife. They watched with bated breath as Wyatt and Raph clasped their hands around the knife’s handle, slicing into the cake. The guests cheered.
Then Sam took over, dishing cake with deft turns of his wrists. Valen and Harris handed out the slices.
Harris barely tasted the moist chocolate cake, when all his thoughts were focused on Wyatt’s baby. Whether he’d need to call an ambulance, whether they’d make it to the hospital in time. He’d witnessed a couple of births on the job, but he’d never helped with one.
Wyatt had a couple bites of cake. Fed Raph some. Raph ate from Wyatt’s fork, his eyes darting down to Wyatt’s belly. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Wyatt grunted. “Yeah, we’d better. Hazel, Ben, could you stay with Aunt Penny for now?”
The kids nodded.
“And Sam,” Wyatt said, grimacing. “I’m sorry about the cleanup. I was going to help, I swear.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure we expected this. “Go have your baby.”
Wyatt laughed, and Sam gave him a thumbs up. Then Raph scooped Wyatt into his arms and strode out of the door, getting into their SUV.
Sam slipped his hand into Harris’. “They’ll be fine.”
“Really?” Harris asked. Couldn’t help that stab of panic, even if that baby wasn’t his own. Nine months was a long time to be invested in another person.
Sam nodded. “He did okay with Ben. I think he’ll do okay with James, too.”
“Okay,” Harris said. Couldn’t shake the knot of unease in his stomach, though.
If he was this afraid for someone else’s baby, what would it be like in five months, when Sam went into labor himself?
25
Sam
“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Sam asked Raph, folding up his apron.
“Definitely,” Raph said, dark circles under his eyes. “Get going while it’s still a lull.”
“If Dad screws up, I’ll make sure to tell him,” Hazel said, grabbing Sam by the shoulders. “Your guests are waiting at Table 24. They’ve settled the bill, too.”
Then she walked
