Chapter 1 #4
“Cricket—you really should pull over,” August demanded, already reaching for his jacket. Lucas’s heart lurched, his mind racing ahead to every worst-case scenario. “We’ll come get you.”
“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “Too late. I’m literally like ten minutes from the mansion. You should call everybody and tell them it’s gonna be a messy Christmas. Baby number four is about to steal the show. Hope you picked a name.”
“This is insane,” Lucas muttered again for the thousandth time. His hands were shaking, cold even in the warm living room. He could still feel the ghost of August’s body heat from their interrupted kiss, now replaced by panic. His pulse thudded in his ears, drowning out the crackle of the fire.
“I know, right?” Cricket said. “I’m hanging up now. I promised Charlie I’d call her so we can FaceTime during my labor. She’s on a shoot in Brazil. Toodles.”
The two of them sat staring at the screen for a long moment.
Lucas gave August a confused look. “Did she say… toodles?”
“I told you that girl Charlie was gonna be trouble,” August said, shaking his head.
Lucas scrubbed a hand over his face, the room spinning just slightly as the reality settled. “Okay,” he murmured, voice thin. “Okay. Fuck. I need to call Dad. I need to make sure we have all the necessary supplies, and her bag and the baby’s bag and everything the kids might need—”
“Hey, Dad,” August said into the phone, already two steps ahead of him. “Yeah, did Cricket call you? No? Well, she’s in labor and driving herself to your place as we speak. Her midwife is on the way. Who all is there?”
Lucas could hear Thomas’s booming voice crackling through the speaker.
“Mac and Archer are on their way. Adam and Noah aren’t answering the phone. The core-four said they might be a bit late getting there. Atticus and Jericho are already on their way. What about you two? What’s your ETA?”
“Depends on the roads,” August answered. “If they’ve salted them? The usual time barring any unforeseen traffic.”
Lucas’s head was spinning. No—Lucas was spinning in a circle, unsure what to do first. The room felt too warm, too bright, the fire crackling cheerfully like it didn’t realize the world had just veered sideways.
His sweater suddenly felt too tight, the air too thin, as though the entire house had tipped by a few degrees.
Cricket’s bag. That would be a good start.
He sprinted down the hall and grabbed her bright yellow LV suitcase and the smaller version that contained all of the new baby’s must-haves.
He was certain that Thomas had decked out her suite with everything she could possibly need just like Allister’s birth, but he wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
The wheels on the suitcase thunk-thunked against the floor as he dragged it back toward the living room, breath already coming too fast. He nearly tripped over one of August’s abandoned textbooks and swore under his breath, the panic tightening around his ribs like a corset.
“I can handle everything from here,” Thomas said over the line. “We’ve been preparing for this for months. Just get here when you can. It could be hours before she actually gives birth. Don’t panic.”
“I never panic,” August said dismissively.
“I was talking to Lucas,” Thomas said.
Lucas froze mid-step like someone had unplugged him.
He was still pacing back and forth trying to get his brain to cooperate.
His heart was thudding against his ribs like it wanted out, fingers twitching uselessly around the handle of Cricket’s suitcase.
A wave of heat and cold rolled through him at the same time, as if his body couldn’t decide which emergency response to commit to.
August snorted. “That ship has sailed, I’m afraid.”
Lucas turned to glower at him.
“Gotta go, Dad. See you soon,” August finished before hanging up.
“What do I do?” Lucas asked, voice too thin, too high.
His thoughts were piling on top of each other—call the family, get coats, double-check the hospital-grade supplies Thomas probably already bought three of, try not to think of his best friend and unborn child on the highway in a blizzard.
His brain was a frantic avalanche: ideas, fears, lists, all crashing at once with no way to sort them.
August crossed the room in two strides and pulled him into a hug. The solidity of him, the warmth, the quiet strength in his arms finally gave Lucas’s frantic mind something to hold onto. Lucas pressed his forehead to August’s collarbone, breathing him in, letting the world steady.
“I’ll go make sure we grab everything needed,” August murmured into his hair. “You start calling the family and letting them know that this will not be our typical Mulvaney Christmas Eve.”
Lucas nodded against his chest, swallowing hard, clinging to the one task he could handle right then. The storm outside rattled the windows again, a reminder that the world was a mess, but inside, they were moving, acting, preparing. Together. They would get through this like they always did.
As a family.
One big, dysfunctional, crazy-as-fuck family.