Page 126 of Sin Bin Daddies
“We’re in this together. You can lean on us. No matter what happens, we’re here for you,” Asher says.
She looks at all of us, the tears still falling, but her eyes are softer now. More open. “I’m sorry. It’s just… so much. I don’t know how to do this.”
“You don’t have to do it alone,” I say softly, brushing her hair back from her face. “We’ve got you. We’ll figure this out.”
Leo nods. “We’re a team. You’re not going through this by yourself.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Madeline
My bladder wakesme before anything else does. Aching and full.
It’s been like this for the past couple of months, like clockwork, and at this point, I don’t even bother groaning about it. I just slide my hand across the nightstand and grab my phone.
The screen lights up with a text from Henry.
>>Morning. You good? Need anything? Still getting used to you being… you know… huge. But I’m trying.
A laugh bubbles out of me. He’s trying, alright.
After Logan and Henry left for Boston and gave me the house, they’ve both stepped into this awkward big-brother zone where they check in every few days and pretend they’re not mildly terrified about me growing three babies at once.
I text him back a quick,“Alive. Peeing now. Will report back,” and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
The bathroom tile is cool under my feet. The relief of finally emptying my bladder is immediate and sacred.
Afterward, I step into the shower, letting the steam fog up the mirrors and melt the grogginess from my limbs. My body has changed so much.
My belly is round and firm, stretching the skin taut and sensitive. My boobs are heavy. Everything feels swollen and pulsing lately, like my entire body is humming at a low, constant frequency.
I towel off and drag on a pair of cotton panties and one of Asher’s old shirts that barely fits now. I’m adjusting the hem over my hips when I hear it—dishes clinking, water running, something thudding gently from the kitchen.
Ford.
He’s standing at the sink in a navy shirt that stretches across his back like it was poured onto him. His broad shoulders move with every motion, the fabric pulling tight with the shift of his arms.
Watching him like this does something to me. Heat curls low in my belly, sharp and greedy. Desire, constant and blooming, has lived under my skin like a second pulse lately.
He turns his head like he senses me watching. “You’re up,” he says, smiling as he wipes his hands on a dish towel and starts toward the stairs.
I grip the rail as he climbs up to meet me. “You didn’t have to do dishes.”
His fingers slip under my elbow like it’s instinct. “You cook, I clean. That’s the rule.”
“You cooked last night.”
He shrugs. “Still the rule.”
Ford lifts me effortlessly, one arm under my knees, the other around my back, and carries me like I weigh nothing. Since Logan and Henry left, he, Leo, and Asher have been showing up every day.
At first, it was just to check in. Bring food. Help out.
But now they’ve taken over everything. Groceries, cleaning, running errands, cooking meals, bringing me vitamins andsmoothies, and those little prenatal massage tools Asher saw on some influencer’s TikTok.
Ford settles me onto the couch, adjusts the pillows behind me, and disappears into the kitchen. He returns a minute later with a tall glass of strawberry banana smoothie and the three horse-pill vitamins I’ve come to dread.
“Morning nutrition.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “You look beautiful.”
