Page 588 of The Winslow Brothers

The Redo Extended Epilogue: Winslow Brothers 1 year later

Winnie

One year later…

I cuddle Wes a little closer, tucking him to my chest and breathing in his baby scent. Well, Wes Jr., I guess I should say—my son.

Needless to say, things have taken quite a turn in the last year. Not only are we diving headfirst into the teenage years with Lexi, but we’re also starting all over again…with a miracle.

I’d pretty much given up hope of having another baby, and I’d even made peace with it. But sometimes the best changes in life happen when you’re least expecting them—that’s how it’s always been for me, honestly.

Going it alone with Lexi. Falling in love with my boss. Making some of the best friends a girl could ask for. Finally—finally—getting the opportunity to watch all my rowdy brothers fall in love. And now,this, holding my baby boy in my arms.

Wes Jr. is four months old, but I swear, I feel like it was yesterday that I watched him take his first breath. Felt his sweet little body against my chest. And stared up into the eyes of my husband as he looked at his son for the first time and witnessed our family of three become four.

After one last snuggle, I pull my little miracle away from my body and tuck him against my husband’s chest as carefully as possible. As always, Wes is unbelievably patient. He knows how much being able to have this baby means to me, and he knows I’m only neurotic because I care so much. Still, that doesn’t stop a small, teasing smile from creeping into the corner of his handsome mouth.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask for the forty-seventh time in the last twenty minutes. “I can just keep him with me. It’s no big deal.”

Wes’s smile grows. “I’m sure, Win. And it’s Ty’s wedding. You deserve to let loose. Enjoy yourself. All you’ve done for the last year is worry about doing the right things for the baby.”

“I just want—”

“Baby,” he interrupts softly. “I know. But I promise I’ve got this. The men will handle the kids while you ladies have some much-deserved fun.”

I exhale a heavy breath, lean forward to kiss Wes Jr. on the forehead once more, and then nod. “Okay, boss. I’ll let loose and have fun.”

My handsome husband smirks down at me and discreetly pinches my ass. “That’s what I like to hear.”

I roll my eyes at him, but I also smile when he places an undeniably sweet kiss to my lips. Just a soft sweep of his tongue makes it way more intimate than a simple peck.

My whole face feels light with love and easiness as he pulls away, remarking, “You know, it didn’t take Flynn, Jude, Remy, or Tynearly this much convincing to get their women to hand over their kids. Matter of fact, it took them barely any convincing at all.”

I snort, glance over my shoulder at the gabbing, slightly tipsy, celebrating women behind me, and then turn back to Wes. “That’s because none of them have known my brothers as long as I have. It’s going to be chaos, I know it.”

“Winnie, come on!” Sophie finally whines, holding up a glass of champagne as she runs over to me. “Enough talking to boys! It’s time to drink.”

After I give one last glance and eyebrow raise to my husband, he backs out of the door, and Sophie shoves in to close it behind him, leaving me alone in the bridal suite of the Carlyle Hotel, of all places—I know, trust me, I know—with my mom, Aunt Paula, Sophie, Daisy, Maria, the beautiful bride-to-be, Rachel, and her sister, Lydia, and her wife, Lou.

“Finally! Let’s party!” Sophie cries, run-skipping her way back over toward Daisy to give her a high five.

Rachel’s sister Lydia laughs, and her wife Lou looks on with wide eyes. I can’t know for sure, but I have a feeling she’s underestimated the power of a first-time mother’s first night of freedom.

And to complicate matters, there arefourof us in here with babies five months and under.

Fortune-Teller Cleo’s little warning at family dinner a year ago grossly underprepared us for just how many Winslow women werewith child. And since then, Maria, Sophie, Rachel, and Ihave spent the last year being pregnant and taking care of our newborns.

Daisy was the only one whowasn’tpregnant, but with two rambunctious toddlers, she’s not exactly spending her Saturday nights partying. With the freedom to do just that tonight, I have a feeling it’s going to get wild.

Rachel stands in front of a huge floor-length mirror, her beaded, mermaid dress hugging the curves of her body perfectly. She smiles at the image of herself and then takes a swig of champagne worthy of a frat boy chugging beer. I smile at the cuteness of her nerves—because unlike all those years ago at this very hotel for Remy’s non-wedding, the vibe is entirely anticipatory.

It’s happy. Excited. And filled with nothing but love.

“Am I really getting married? Finally?” Rachel asks in a broad survey of the room. “After years of freaking waiting, it’s really happening?”

My mom jumps from her place at Rachel’s side and wraps her arms around her in a hug. Aunt Paula smiles and squeezes the veil she’s holding a little tighter. I’m expecting a touching moment between the mother of the groom and the bride, but what we get instead is a hiccupping sob from Wendy that makes my eyebrows shoot together.

“Mom?” I question, a little worried. Maria stands from her spot on the couch, concern creasing the skin of her forehead.

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