My hand instinctively moves to my stomach before I catch myself. I can’t tell them all yet—I need to tell my Alphas first, in private. The thought sends butterflies swarming in my belly, making me slightly queasy.

“Maybe tomorrow night, Dad,” I suggest, forcing a smile despite my sudden nerves. “We’re all pretty wiped out.”

“Tomorrow it is. I’ll book us in,” Archer agrees. “Today has thoroughly kicked my perfectly shaped behind.”

“Old Mrs. Grove certainly seemed to think so,” Hannah teases, making Archer groan and the rest of us laugh.

“What happened with Mrs. Grove?” my father asks, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

“She pinched his butt. Twice,” Hunter supplies with uncharacteristic glee. “Said he reminded her of her third husband.

“The horror in your eyes right now is exactly how I felt,” Archer tells my father.

I burst out laughing, as does everyone else.

We finish the closing tasks together, my father and Hannah pitching in despite my insistence that they head home. Finally, we’re all standing outside the bakery, locking up for the night.

“I’m so proud of you, Lily-girl,” my father encourages, pulling me into a tight hug. “Your mother would have been, too.”

The mention of my mother brings unexpected tears to my eyes. I blink them back.

“Thanks, Dad. I miss her so much,” I whisper, holding him a moment longer than usual.

Hannah hugs me next, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies my face. “You okay? You look a little pale.”

“Just tired,” I assure her, hoping she can’t read me as well as she usually does. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

She doesn’t seem entirely convinced but doesn’t press the issue. “Call me tomorrow,” she says instead.

After final goodbyes, we separate—Hannah and my father to their cars, the four of us to Hunter’s SUV parked behind the building.

The drive through Whispering Grove is brief but beautiful in the late afternoon, with autumn leaves drifting onto the quiet streets and Halloween decorations glowing from nearly every porch. Despite my nerves about the revelation to come, I can’t help but feel a wave of contentment wash over me. This town, these men, our life together—it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.

“Earth to Lily,” Archer teases, turning from the passenger seat to face me. “You’re awfully quiet back there. Plotting world domination?”

“Just thinking,” I reply, leaning against James, who has his arm draped around my shoulders in the backseat.

“Dangerous pastime,” James teases gently, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I heard at least three women trying to slip you their phone numbers today,” I counter, grateful for the distraction. “Should I be worried?”

“Please,” Archer scoffs before James can answer. “Those women don’t stand a chance. Our baker boy here only has eyes for you.”

“As proven by the fact that I didn’t even notice anyone trying to give me their number,” James adds with perfect honesty.

Hunter catches my attention in the rearview mirror, his steady gaze somehow both assessing and reassuring. He’s always been the most perceptive of the three, quietly noticing what others miss. I wonder if he’s already guessed my secret.

“I thought Mrs. Hawkins was going to faint when Hunter carried that bookcase into the reading nook,” Archer continues, launching into a dramatic reenactment of the elderly woman’s reaction. “I swear I heard her whisper ‘Mercy me’while fanning herself with a cookie.”

The banter continues all the way home. By the time we pull into the driveway of our Victorian house, I’m laughing despite my nerves, some of the tension easing from my shoulders.

Our home welcomes us with warm lights, thanks to the timers Hunter installed. Thor bounds up the porch steps ahead of us, eagerly waiting by the door. Hunter unlocking the front door, James checking the mail, Archer immediately heading for the kitchen to forage for snacks, and Thor waiting for us, curling around my legs for pats—calms me further.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” I announce once we’re inside, needing a few minutes alone to gather my thoughts.

“I’ll order dinner,” James offers. “Pizza? Thai? Too tired to cook.”

“Pizza,” Hunter and Archer say in unison, making me smile.