Prologue
Erik
"So, they're mine?" I watched Sheriff Tristan Rodriguez nod from across the table.
"They're yours," he confirmed, and I felt a weight lift from my chest even as another settled on my shoulders – responsibility.
"It appears that she named you on the birth certificate. Even though the paternity test proves they're not yours by blood, child services have cleared you for full adoption." He stood, holding out a hand. I grasped it, blinking as he pumped it twice, a smile breaking across his face. "Congratulations, Daddy."
"Th-thanks," I stuttered, feeling suddenly disconnected from this situation.
"Good luck," he said, clasping a hand to my shoulder and giving a squeeze.
"Umm, yeah," I muttered, sinking back down to the chair in his office as reality set in.
Shit, I'm a dad. What the fuck do I know about being a parent?
Beside me, my sons slept curled tightly around each other, their little hands clasped together. A week ago, on Christmas, these babies had been handed over to me. Their mother, a woman I vaguely remembered employing for a temporary period last year, had bequeathed them to me. I didn't know her circumstances, didn't really remember her beyond a fuzzy outline of a woman who answered our phones while my mother was on sick leave.
But she'd remembered me. Remembered me enough to give me this responsibility. Her letter said she wanted me to be the man to raise her babies. To help them grow into good men. To give them the life and love she couldn't.
"Fuck," I whispered. A hand slapped the back of my head, pitching me forward.
"Ma!"
"Language!" My mother admonished, settling into the chair beside mine and nodding at the babies. "You're not a bachelor any more, Erik. You can't be saying things like that around little ears."
God, another reason I am woefully unprepared for this responsibility.
I turned, panicked, to my mother. "Ma, I can't do this."
"Yes, you can," she corrected, leaning over and straightening the blanket covering my sons’ legs. "You're just having jitters."
"No Ma, I really can't." I stood abruptly, tugging at the tie around my neck, loosening it and the top two buttons of my dress shirt. I only ever wore a suit for three reasons – business, funerals, or weddings. Apparently, I could add becoming a parent to that list.
"What do I know about kids? And two? Twins? How the fu- I mean, how am I meant to know what to do?"
"You don't. Welcome to parenthood." Ma stood, straightening to her full height, reaching out to wrap me in her arms. "Erik, you're a good man. You care, you try hard, and you'll learn. Your father, your siblings and I are all here to help you. You're not doing this alone."
I sighed, letting my mother reassure me. Call me weak, call me a pussy, I didn't care. I was a fucking momma's boy and proud of it. Hand me the shirt, cancel my man card 'cause I would die for this woman.
"You're going to be a wonderful father." She sniffled, pulling back and then dusting my jacket as if lint had somehow appeared in the last two seconds. "Now, pull yourself together and let's get these babies settled."
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. "Thanks, Ma."
"Congratulations, Erik." She stretched on tip toes and I bent, letting her press a kiss to my cheek. "I'm proud of you… Daddy."
I blew out a breath. "Okay," I turned, looking down at the twins still peacefully sleeping. My heart felt full, a helpless loving warmth suffusing every cell in my body. "Let's get my sons home."
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Chapter One
Erik
"Astrid," I juggled the phone on one shoulder, desperately bopping up and down as Leif screamed in my ear. "Please, I'm begging you. I have the buyer meeting me in less than thirty minutes. The nanny has bailed for the third day in a row, and Ma is in Capricorn Cove, wedding dress shopping with Ella." My eldest brother, Gunnar, was getting married to an amazing woman. I liked Ella, loved my brother, but today? I cursed them both. This wedding was damned inconvenient timing.
I closed my eyes as Ulf started fussing. "Please, Astrid. Please, my favorite sister. Please. I'm begging you, help."
