Page 78 of Filthy Rich Bosses

Cole glares at him. "I'm telling you, it doesn't fit. Look at the instructions!"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Douglas's dry voice cuts in from the corner where he's lounging in an armchair. "Perhaps if you stopped trying to assert your masculinity through furniture assembly and actually read the manual, we might see some progress before the child graduates college."

The moment Tessa walks in, everything stops. Both Grayson and Cole abandon their tools and manuals, rushing to her side like she’s the center of their universe—which, of course, she is.

"Tessa!" Grayson's usually composed voice is tinged with excitement. "How was your day? Are you feeling all right?"

Cole's right behind him, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. "Do you need anything? Water? A snack? Maybe you should sit down."

I watch as Tessa's eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by their sudden barrage of attention. But there's a softness in her expression that wasn't there when we first met, a vulnerability she allows only with us.

"I'm fine, really," she says, her voice a mix of exasperation and fondness. "It was just a regular day at school. No need to fuss."

But Grayson's already guiding her to the armchair, gently nudging Douglas out of the way. "Nonsense. You should rest. Cole, get her some water."

I lean against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold. It's moments like these that make my heart swell—seeing how much they care, how they orbit around her like she's their sun.

Tessa looks over at me, rolling her eyes playfully, but I can see the contentment beneath her mock annoyance. As she sinks into the chair, enveloped by Grayson and Cole's attention, she lets out a small, satisfied sigh.

That sound. That's what gets me every time. It's like watching a flower unfurl in the sun, seeing her let down her guard and just...be. I love her fierceness, her independence, but this? This is special.

I stand off to the side, taking it all in—the love, the warmth, the ridiculousness of our family. It’s loud and messy and everything I’ve ever wanted.

Grayson hands her a pillow, Cole tucks a blanket around her, and Douglas makes some comment about how they’re smothering her—only to be ignored, as usual.

I join them, sitting on the edge of the couch and placing my hand over hers. “You good?” I ask, my voice low.

She nods, her smile so soft it makes my chest ache. “I’m better than good.”

And I believe her.

We’re all on the edge of something new—something we don’t fully understand yet. But I’m not scared. Not even a little. Grayson and Cole have been stockpiling baby books, furniture, and advice like it’s a survival mission. But me?

I’m just excited for the adventure.

I’m determined to be the best version of me I can be for this family. But my path isn’t about long hours in an office or some prestigious career. No, I’m going to be a stay-at-home dad. And the thought fills me with more joy than I ever thought possible.

This is our life. Full of love and laughter and the occasional furniture-building disaster. And as Tessa sits there, surroundedby all of us, her hand resting lightly on her bump, I know one thing for sure:

It’s perfect.