Rightfully Hers

EPILOGUE

Three years later

"Do we have everything?" My wife hollered from the kitchen. "Babe!" She poked her head out into the hall so I could see her locks of blonde hair cascade over her right shoulder, her eyes frantic. "Is everything good to go?"

"Relax," I laughed at her, sitting on the entrance floor. Ari was seated on the second stair, a book in hand, and Charlotte was sat beside her, desperately wanting to do everything her big sister did. And oh, did she. Charlie was a lot more soft spoken than Arabelle, but when she spoke, she was a quick, witty little thing.

"We're the Alpha couple!" Isabelle whined, "we can't show up to the barbecue unprepared. Uh... okay, so we have the chips, cups, the brownies I made... Uh, was that all we were in charge of?"

"Baby, we weren't in charge of anything, we were told to just bring ourselves," I teased her, and she sent me a light frown, the corners of those full lips I loved so much twisting downwards. "We are fine, can we go now? I haven't seen Isaac and Julian since they got back from picking up Matty! I wanna meet the little squirt."

As it turns out, my mother was correct in saying Isaac would do something drastic. After the ceremony, all of the wedding guests went to this huge hotel in what Kauai considered its city for the reception. Isaac drank too much and, after grabbing a microphone, professed his love for Julian in a drunken slur. My best friend had gotten up and led Isaac to his room at the hotel, and he didn't come back down that night. They were together when we all saw them the next morning for breakfast.

They got married a year later, and they had just gotten back from China where they'd adopted the cutest one-year-old boy, Matthew, or Matty as they had been calling him since the adoption went through.

Isabelle exited the kitchen with her hands full of bags. "Ari, can you grab some of these for me?"

Our eldest, now eight, sighed dramatically. "Yes, your majesty," she drawled, and then bowed when she'd tucked her book under her arm.

Isabelle sighed, but remained silent. "Come on, Charlie, let's get into the car." And the little girl jumped up and grabbed a lighter bag from her mom, willing to help out because Ari was. Her little blonde curls bounced as she ran outside after her sister.

"You good with them?" Isabelle asked me, nodding to both my arms.

I went out first, and Isabelle followed behind, locking up the house. By the time we got around to our car, the new one we'd bought a year ago, Ari and Charlie were situated in the very back. Isabelle put the rest of the bags in the trunk, and then climbed into the driver's side.

I buckled our eight month old twins into their respective seats, and then hopped into the passenger side.

Our twins were eight months old, and they were both boys. I carried them, surprisingly enough, and it turns out producing boys must run in my family, because Reece had a boy two months after I did, and they named him Roland. My boys, Oliver and Noah, had bright green eyes, but the world's softest brown hair, exactly my shade of brunette. They were crawling now, and I was sure one or both of them would say their first words sooner than later.

When we got to the pack house, our two girls hopped out and ran around to the back, where we could hear the chatter and low music playing. It was late July, the weather was unexpectedly beautiful again today, and I was more than content.

Isabelle grabbed all the bags and walked around back, not before checking with me to make sure I was good with the boys. I nodded, and unbuckled them from their seats to carry each of them on one hip. I then followed my wife around the back of our pack house.