Page 117 of Knotting With A Stranger

“Pizza it is,” I agree, heading for the stairs. “I’ll be down in fifteen.”

In our master bathroom, I stand under the hot spray, letting the water wash away the day’s tension. My hand drifts to my still-flat stomach.

After my shower, I pull on comfortable leggings and one of James’s soft t-shirts that hangs nearly to my knees. In the walk-in closet, I retrieve the small gift bag I’ve been hiding behind my winter boots for the past week. Inside are three tiny pairs of baby shoes—one blue, one pink, one yellow—each containing a rolled-up sonogram picture.

Not as elegant as my cupcake plan, perhaps, but it will have to do as I’m too tired to bake tonight. And the shoes were my initial idea, anyway. My secret has been burning inside me for too long; I can’t wait another day to share it.

Downstairs, I find my Alphas sprawled in the living room. The scene is so domestic, so perfectly ordinary, that for a moment, I just stand in the doorway, drinking it in.

Hunter notices me first, of course. “Feel better?”

“Much,” I confirm, moving to join them. Instead of taking my usual spot on the couch, I remain standing, suddenly nervous again. “I have something for you. For all of you.”

Their attention focuses on me immediately, three sets of eyes curious as I produce the three gift bags from behind my back, then hand one to each of them.

“What’s the occasion?” Archer asks, reaching for it eagerly.

“Just open it,” I say, my heart pounding so hard, I’m sure they must hear it.

Each of them pulls out a tiny shoe box, all their expressions puzzled. They open the boxes simultaneously, revealing the miniature shoes with the sonogram photos tucked inside.

For a moment, there’s complete silence as they process what they’re seeing.

“Lily,” Hunter says finally, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady. “Is this...?”

“I’m pregnant,” I confirm, twisting my hands nervously. “Eight weeks along. With twins.”

The silence stretches for three more heartbeats, then?—

“TWINS!” Archer whoops, leaping to his feet with such force that Thor startles and barks. He crosses the space between us in two long strides, lifting me off my feet and spinning me in a circle. “We’re having twins!”

His joy breaks the spell. James is suddenly there, tears already streaming down his face, pulling me from Archer’s arms into his own.

“Twins,” he whispers against my hair, his voice thick with emotion. “Two babies. Our babies.”

Hunter’s face transforms instantly, eyes widening as the tiny blue shoes slip from his suddenly trembling hands. He catches them mid-fall, clutching them to his chest as a smile breaks across his face—slow at first, then crescendoing into something radiant.

“We’re… you’re…” he stammers, voice cracking with joy. “Twins? We’re having twins?”

The practical concerns still flicker across his face, but they’re secondary to the pure elation radiating from him. He crosses to me in two quick strides, not walking but practically bounding.

“Yes,” I assure him with a matching smile. “Everything looks perfect so far. Eight weeks and two days, according to the doctor.”

Unlike the others’ exuberant displays, Hunter’s joy manifests in its own unique way—he lifts me off my feet in a gentle spin. His eyes shine suspiciously bright, a laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep as he presses his forehead to mine.

“Twins,” he whispers again, voice filled with wonder and unmistakable excitement. “We’re going to need another pair of these,” he adds, glancing down at the blue shoes still clutchedin one hand. He kisses me with such tenderness it brings fresh tears to my eyes.

“So, I’m guessing pizza isn’t the best dinner choice for you right now,” James says. “I should make you something healthier. More nutritious. With vegetables.”

I laugh through my tears. “Pizza is fine. I’m pregnant, not sick.”

“Still,” he insists, his nurturing instincts already shifting into overdrive. “You need proper nutrition. You’re eating for three now.”

“Three,” Archer repeats, sounding dazed but delighted. “There’ll be seven of us in this house, counting Thor.”

“A real family,” Hunter says softly, and something in his tone makes my heart contract. I remember what he told me about his childhood—losing his parents young, the strained relationship with Travis, and losing his grandfather recently.

“Our family,” I correct gently, taking his hand and placing it on my stomach.

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