Page 27 of Cuffed By My Mate

Vera stands by the stove, her back to me, wearing one of my old T-shirts that hangs off her curves in a way that makes my bear rumble with satisfaction. She’s flipping pancakes, her hair tumbling down her back in soft waves, and I swear my heart still skips a beat every time I see her like this.

At the kitchen table, our daughter, Willow, sits with her elbows propped up, staring at the stack of presents on the counter with a determination that makes me grin.

"Willow, baby, you can't open them until after breakfast," Vera calls over her shoulder, barely holding back a laugh.

"Butwhy? They're just sitting there, Mommy," Willow whines, pouting.

"Because rules are rules," I say, stepping up behind Vera and wrapping my arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. She tilts her head, giving me better access, and I take full advantage, nibbling softly before pulling back.

"Morning," she murmurs, leaning into me.

"Morning," I reply, squeezing her just a little tighter before letting go. "Need help?"

"You can keep the birthday girl entertained," she teases, flipping another pancake onto the growing stack.

"I think she needs a distraction." I glance at our daughter, her golden-brown curls messy from sleep, her little nose scrunched as she eyes the gifts again. "Willow, how about we playguess the present?"

She gasps, turning to me with wide eyes. "Really?"

"Really."

She practicallylaunchesherself out of her chair, running to my side, her excitement making my chest swell.

This—this—is everything I ever wanted.

I never thought I’d have a life like this. A mate, a family, a home filled with love and laughter. For so long, I never let myself believe it was possible. But Vera changed everything.

She gave meeverything.

My bear rumbles happily inside of me, and I smile. The two of us have never been happier or more content, and I love it.

Willow tugs my hand, dragging me toward the counter where the gifts are stacked. "Okay, Daddy, let’s do it!"

I sit on one of the stools, lifting her onto my lap. "Alright, birthday girl. Pick one and guess what's inside."

She scans the pile like a hunter tracking her prey, then points to a small, rectangular package wrapped in bright pink paper.

"This one! Hmm… I think it's…a book!"

"Good guess," Vera chimes in, glancing over at us with a knowing smirk.

"Is it?!" Willow bounces excitedly.

"I'm not telling," I tease, chuckling as she huffs dramatically.

"Mean, Daddy!"

"Alright, alright, another one," I say, nudging her.

She continues guessing, her giggles filling the kitchen as Vera finishes making breakfast. Just as she sets the plates down, the sound of tiny feet pattering across the wooden floor catches my attention.

I turn just in time to see our younger son, Caleb, stumbling into the kitchen, his chubby little legs moving as fast as they can.

"Up! Up, Daddy!" he demands, reaching his arms toward me.

I scoop him up easily, settling him on my other knee. "Morning, little man."

He blinks up at me sleepily, then looks over at Willow and beams. "Birfday!" he shouts, clapping his hands.

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