Page 80 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

Boone appears first, sweeping Cole into his arms. I duck out of the room to get Harmony from her crib. It’s time for her to get up anyway. When I return with the baby and give her to Ambrose, I smile at the sight of Alexis buried in her father’s arms. He makes munching noises on the top of her head, declaring himself a zombie for some reason. She looks happy.

“What’s that amazing smell?” Harrison asks.

“We made dinner for you!” Alexis answers happily. “From scratch!”

Boone raises his eyebrows at me. “From scratch? Seriously?”

“Yeah, sure, no big deal,” I shrug as I saunter away.

Back in the kitchen, I carefully lift the lid of the crockpot and wave away a cloud of steam. The vegetables glimmer darkly from the depths of the pot.

Oh my gosh. It looks like I did it. Mission accomplished.

The table looks grand, all set with white china plates in preparation for our feast. I feel sort of thoroughly good. Like I just pulled off a miraculous feat of womanly sorcery.

“This is amazing!” Ambrose mumbles with his mouth full. “What is it?”

“Pot roast,” I explain simply as I spear another morsel with my fork. “It was Alexis’s idea.”

“Yeah, totally amazing!” Boone joins in, leaning over his third helping. “What kind of meat is it?”

“Ummmmmmmmm.”

“We were beginning to think you didn’t know how to cook!” Harrison chuckles with his head back.

“Of course I can cook,” I protest, ignoring the look that Alexis gives me.

“Damn right you can,” Boone agrees smugly.

Dinner seems to go on and on. When it is done, we are all fairly exhausted. The dishes get loaded into the dishwasher and then we pile onto the sofa so we can watch another kids’ movie for the fortieth time. It has become a nightly tradition. Better than violent video games, that’s for sure.

After I get Cole to bed, Alexis comes in from brushing her teeth, knuckling her eyes sleepily.

“You did really good tonight, Alexis,” I smile as I tuck her into the big, fluffy bed.

“You did really good tonight too,” she smiles back.

I have to agree. Dinner, and all three kids going to sleep at the same time? Why, I am practically a genius at this.

After closing the kids’ door firmly behind me, I’m surprised to see all three of my boyfriends staring at me from the sofa.

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

“We can’t remember whose turn it is,” Boone shrugs.

“Definitely not my turn,” Harrison interjects, all surly.

The poor guy. It took a while to get him caught up, but I did it! I don’t know what he’s complaining about.

“Well…” I begin, then cut off.

I hate this part. It’s Ambrose’s turn to sleep in the parlor. They all know that. I don’t want to say it.

I hate turning Ambrose away. I hate turning any of them away. I’d rather just be with all of them all the time.

But we’ve come this far…

“Guys, I think it’s my turn,” Ambrose finally admits.

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