Fitz woke when he heard quiet fussing in the bassinet. It was their third day home with Fitzy. The soft, rhythmic breathing of Olivia beside him was comforting, her warmth still lingering where his arms had been wrapped around her. He carefully moved to the edge of the bed to Fitzy's bassinet.
Early morning light filtered through the thick, cream curtains. Fitzy was hungry, Fitz realized as he lifted him out of his bassinet, cradling him against his bare chest. The baby's tiny but plump body radiated warmth, his scent—a mix of milk and baby powder—was familiar and soothing. Olivia was deep in sleep, and Fitz was relieved he didn't have to wake her. As much as she complained that he should, she always seemed grateful for the sleep. She had worked hard to pump milk for Fitzy, and now there were four two-ounce bottles lined up neatly in the warmer on the nightstand.
He grabbed one, carefully testing the warmth before pulling off the cap and slipping the bottle nipple into Fitzy's mouth. The baby scrunched his nose, his tiny brow furrowing as he realized it wasn't Olivia. He spat the bottle out and whimpered, just as he did last time. Fitz chuckled, rocking him gently.
"Come on, Fitzy," he murmured. "The bottle isn't so bad, buddy."
He moved the bottle nipple side to side so Fitzy could taste the milk. Hunger eventually won, and he latched on, sucking greedily. Fitz smiled, watching the baby's little fingers flex and relax against his chest.
He sucked his bottle dry and Fitz set it back on the nightstand and lifted Fitzy against his shoulder, rubbing gentle circles on his back. A few pats later, a loud burp echoed through the quiet room—followed by the warm sensation of spit-up trailing down his shoulder.
Fitz shook his head and laughed. "Well, that's one way to say thanks, fatty."
He grabbed a nearby burp cloth, wiping Fitzy's mouth before pulling off his damp pajama shirt. Tossing it onto the floor, he ran a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. Shirtless, he lifted Fitzy again, placing a pacifier between his lips. The baby settled quickly, his eyelids growing heavier with each slow rock. Fitz held him close for a while, his large hand splayed across Fitzy's back, feeling each little breath against his skin.
"Just like your mama," he whispered with a small smile. "Out like a light."
Carefully, he placed Fitzy back into his bassinet, ensuring he was swaddled snugly before turning off the nightlight. Fitz climbed back into bed, sighing contentedly as sleep pulled him under.
When Olivia woke up, the clock read nearly 7 AM. She turned, stretching, and noticed Fitz was shirtless. A slow grin spread across her lips. She sat up, brushing hair from her face, and glanced over at Fitzy, who was still sleeping soundly.
She climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, knowing how light a sleeper Fitz was. She walked to the bathroom quickly and quietly to tidy herself up. When she returned to their bedroom, she walked just as quietly as before to the bassinet and carefully lifted Fitzy, cradling him close. His tiny fingers curled against her chest as she moved to the control pad, lowering the volume on all three rooms.
Behind her, the bed rustled.
"Livie?" Fitz's voice was thick with sleep, groggy but laced with warmth.
"Hi, baby," she whispered, leaning over to kiss his lips tenderly. "It's alright. I've got him. Go back to sleep."
Fitz rubbed his eyes, blinking at her. "No, I'm up—"
"Shh." Olivia pressed a finger to his lips, smiling. "Go back to sleep. I know you're tired."
He sighed dramatically. "You're so bossy now."
"You love it," she teased, adjusting Fitzy in her arms before slipping out of the room.
She walked to the nursery, where she laid Fitzy on the changing table. As she unswaddled him, she cooed softly, kissing his round little belly with his umbilical stump still attached to a plastic clamp. "Let's get you cleaned up, my love."
Meanwhile, Fitz sat up in bed, rubbing a hand over his face. He frowned, hearing nothing through the control pad on his nightstand. He picked it up, realizing the volume was down. A smirk played on his lips as he pieced it together.
"Livie," he muttered, shaking his head with amusement.
Rolling out of bed, he stretched and walked to the nursery. Olivia had just finished fastening Fitzy's fresh diaper when he stepped inside.
"Livie?"
She turned, startled. "Why are you awake?"
Fitz leaned against the doorframe, still shirtless. "It's 7 AM. Why wouldn't I be awake?"
She sighed. "No, it's your birthday. Go back to bed."
His brows lifted. "Oh god, what are you planning?"
She smirked. "Get to bed."
Fitz grinned, stepping closer. "You're getting really bossy." He reached out, grabbing her hips, pulling her against him. His hands slid down, squeezing her ass. Olivia gasped, blushing.
"Fitz—"
"What?" he asked innocently, his lips brushing against her jaw.
She bit her lip, suppressing a blushing laugh.
Just then, Fitzy let out a fussy cry. Olivia laughed, quickly stepping back.
Fitz sighed dramatically. She rolled her eyes, kissing Fitzy's belly. "My darling baby," she murmured, then turned to Fitz. "He's so cute, I can't stand it."
He smiled and her pouty lips turned up into a smirk with an added playful glare. "Go back to bed, or at least pretend to."
He huffed just as playfully but obeyed, kissing her shoulder before retreating to the bedroom.
Olivia finished changing Fitzy before settling into the rocking chair, putting him to her breast on top of her nursing pillow. As he latched on, she sighed in relief, her body relaxing into the motion.
By the time she went to wake the girls, it was after 8:00 AM. She nudged Lily gently. "Sweetheart, wake up. It's Daddy's birthday."
Lily shot up immediately, her excitement bubbling over. Olivia laughed. "Honey, were you already awake?"
Lily grinned and nodded. "We have so many surprises planned!"
By the time Olivia got all three girls up and moving, they were bubbling with excitement and energy.
"How old is daddy?" Isabelle asked, as Olivia prepared to take them to the bathroom to brush their teeth.
"Your daddy is 38 today," Olivia answered.
"That's really old," Lily said.
Olivia laughed, "not really, that's very young for a daddy."
"Oh," Lily said. "Does that mean we'll have 38 candles for daddy or is that too much?"
"I think that'll be too much for daddy to blow out all by himself but if he had help..maybe."
"I can help," Isabelle interjected. "I can help a lot. I love blowing out candles."
"I know because you always try to blow out my candles on my birthday," Lily said.
Isabelle huffed and a second later. Fitzy stiffened in her arms and let out a loud, wet poop.
"Yuck," Lily said.
Back in the bedroom, Fitz was lounging in bed, the control pad now allowing him to eavesdrop on their whispers. He smirked, shaking his head. His daughters couldn't keep a secret if their lives depended on it. The twins had already told him about surprises they couldn't tell him about…which he thought was a funny way to phrase it. He continued to listen in until they were no longer audible on the monitor.
For breakfast, chef Melissa had prepared steak and scrambled eggs with home fries—something she knew Fitz would love. Once everything was set, she took the girls back upstairs to retrieve their presents. They grabbed the gifts Olivia had helped them order and wrap, while she collected the ones she had hidden in Fitzy's storage closet.
"No one told Daddy about the surprises, did they?" Olivia asked.
"Well…" Isabelle hesitated.
Lily groaned. "Izzy, you have to keep a secret!"
"I only told Daddy we were making a surprise—I didn't tell him he had presents," Isabelle defended.
Olivia chuckled. "It's alright, Izzy. I'm sure your father will still be surprised."
With their arms full, they headed back to the bedroom. When Olivia opened the door, Fitz was lounging in bed, clearly never having gone back to sleep.
"Happy birthday, Daddy!" the girls squealed as they rushed over with their gifts.
Fitz sat up, grinning. "It's my birthday? I completely forgot."
"I told you yesterday, Daddy," Izzy said, jumping onto the bed.
Olivia walked over, Fitzy wrapped snugly against her chest, and leaned down to kiss Fitz tenderly. "Happy birthday, honey."
He smiled. "Thank you, Angel."
"Open my present first, Daddy!" Lily insisted, thrusting a wrapped box into his hands. "Mommy helped me buy it because I don't have any money."
Fitz chuckled. "I figured as much."
He unwrapped the box to reveal a pair of black sunglasses, decorated with colorful drawings.
"I put the drawings on them!" Lily beamed. "I drew your favorite things—Mommy, me, Izzy, Daisy, and a steak—"
Fitz let out a booming laugh. "Because I love my family and steaks?"
Lily nodded proudly.
"I love it. I absolutely fucking love it—"
"You're not supposed to say bad words, Daddy," Lily scolded.
Fitz scooped her up and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Princess."
"Open mine next!" Isabelle handed him her present eagerly. Inside was a pale blue T-shirt, adorned with iron-on patches of unicorns and cows. Fitz bit back a laugh.
"I love this, Princess. I can't wait to wear it."
"Yay!" Isabelle clapped. "I put unicorns because they're my favorite, and cows because they're your favorite."
"Yeah, I figured that," Fitz said, amused.
Olivia grinned, suppressing a laugh, knowing how sensitive the girls could be.
"Now mine, Daddy!" Daisy urged, passing him her box. Fitz unwrapped it, revealing a vintage denim jacket with intricate, abstract designs in black, white, and dark blue. Unlike her sisters' gifts, it had a more polished, artistic feel.
Fitz glanced at Olivia, silently asking if Daisy had really done this. She nodded with a smile.
"Do you like it, Daddy?" Daisy asked.
"I really do," Fitz said, admiring the jacket. "This is incredible. I can't believe you did it all by yourself."
"Well, Mommy helped me buy the jacket and because it was so big and ugly because you're big and-"
"Daisy—" Olivia cautioned playfully.
"-tall," Daisy corrected. "But I made it prettier, even though it's still kinda ugly."
Fitz burst into laughter, hugging her. "I don't know what I'd do without my daughters."
Daisy grinned. "Mommy got you a big, big, big birthday cake! Can I blow out your candles?"
"Daisy!" Olivia exclaimed.
"Oh—was that a surprise?" she asked innocently.
Lily groaned. "Yes, Daisy!"
Fitz and Olivia laughed. She handed him the remaining gifts. "The blue box is from Fitzy, and the rest are from me."
"Fitzy's a baby. He can't actually pick presents," Lily pointed out.
"Well, I picked it for him, but it's the thought that counts," Olivia said.
Lily nodded as Fitz unwrapped the small box. Inside was a stunning vintage watch. He leaned down, kissing Fitzy's soft, bald head. "Thank you, son."
"He can't understand you," Lily said matter-of-factly.
Olivia laughed. "Honey, talking to Fitzy now is how he'll eventually understand us. That's how babies learn."
"Oh," Lily said, nodding in realization.
Fitz chuckled as he opened Olivia's gifts, each more thoughtful and extravagant than the last. When he finished, Olivia stood. "I have a special breakfast for you downstairs."
Fitz stood, and immediately, Lily climbed onto his back while the twins latched onto his legs.
"By special, I hope you mean meaty…" Fitz mused.
"It is extraordinarily meaty. Just looking at it might raise your cholesterol."
Fitz laughed as they made their way to the elevator, though walking was a challenge with two girls wrapped around his legs and one on his back.
"What's the point of being this fit if I can't eat what I want?" he asked.
Olivia smirked, shaking her head as she pressed the elevator button. She cradled Fitzy's head against her body. "The point is, I want you to live to be old and senile—but with unclogged arteries."
Fitz sighed dramatically. "Which is the only reason I tolerate this years-long health tirade of yours."
She smiled but didn't reply as they stepped into the elevator. When they reached the first floor and climbed the half-staircase to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast hit Fitz, making him grin.
"This is a dream—what's going on here?" he said aloud.
"Mommy, can I tell Daddy what his birthday breakfast is?" Daisy asked.
"Absolutely, my darling Daisy," Olivia said warmly.
"Daddy, are you ready?" Daisy grinned. "It's cow and eggs!"
"Steak and eggs," Lily corrected.
Fitz erupted into a deep, thunderous laugh, startling Fitzy, who began to cry. He quickly moved to Olivia, kissing Fitzy's head. "I'm sorry, my little prince."
Olivia gently caressed Fitzy's back, soothing him. "It's okay, my little muffin. Daddy's sorry he scared you."
They settled at the breakfast table, Olivia admiring the cozy nook with its rustic wooden table and red-and-white gingham drapes and upholstery. A coffee crumb cake sat at the center, and their chef Melissa had prepared fresh orange juice for the girls, freshly brewed coffee for Fitz, and tea for Olivia.
Melissa arrived with their plates—fluffy scrambled eggs kissed with chives and a drizzle of smoky chili oil, slices of tender, perfectly seared Wagyu steak, and home fries glistening with garlic butter and crisped to a golden brown. The girls' plates were a kaleidoscope of treats—bacon curled like ribbons and Belgian waffles with rainbow sprinkles baked into each pocket, melting into syrupy pools.
Because Olivia knew her husband—really knew him—there was also thick, crunchy beef bacon, ripe avocado fanned delicately on the side, and sourdough toast toasted just enough to crunch on the first bite and give way to soft warmth inside.
"This looks divine," Fitz murmured.
"Take a bite," Olivia said with twinkling eyes. "Or should I feed it to you?"
Fitz's lips curled into that boyish grin that still made her heart trip. "I could certainly stand to be fed."
With practiced tenderness, she speared a bite of steak and brought it to his lips. He took it slowly, eyes fluttering shut, savoring the moment as much as the flavor.
"Mmm," he said with a groan of approval. Then, eyes still closed, he added, "Would you be upset if I asked Melissa and Stewart to marry me?"
Olivia arched a brow, fighting a smile. "Do you want to go back to eating quinoa and steamed kale every night?"
Fitz leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Shh. I can't suffer like that again."
"Don't even joke about being someone else's anything," she said, poking him with her fork before feeding him another bite. "You're mine."
Fitz smirked—that smug, affectionate smirk he only wore with her. He loved it when she got possessive, even playfully.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Fitz said, easing himself out of the curved kitchen nook and padding down the short staircase to the foyer, wondering who the fuck was showing up to his home on a day like this.
At the door stood Lucky and Alexander.
Fitz opened it with a knowing smile after seeing him on the control pad on the wall, showing the front door camera feed.
"I'd say I'm surprised, but that'd be a lie."
Lucky stepped in and embraced him like a brother. Fitz hugged him back with genuine warmth.
"How old are you?" Lucky asked with a teasing grin.
"38," Fitz replied.
"That's up there."
"Good," Fitz said with a wink. "It means I'm still alive—when I definitely shouldn't be."
He ruffled Alexander's hair, earning an exaggerated huff and a swat. Lucky chuckled and set the boy down. Alexander darted up the stairs toward the smell of waffles and bacon.
"Let me see your new boy," Lucky said.
"Come on in," Fitz replied, stepping aside. They climbed the stairs, and when they reached the kitchen, Alexander was already nestled beside the girls, shoveling waffles into his mouth like he belonged there.
"Hey Liv," Lucky greeted Olivia, his tone warm and familiar. "How are you doing?"
"I've never been better," Olivia beamed, attempting to stand to greet him, but Lucky waved her down.
"Don't get up—you've got little Fitzy there. Relax."
She gave a grateful nod and stayed seated, one arm cradling their son, the other brushing a curl from her face.
Lucky eyed the table with envy. "This looks incredible. What's going on here?"
"A meaty birthday breakfast for Fitz," Olivia said. "Join us. I didn't think you'd be here this early and I thought Teresa would be joining you."
"I could definitely eat," Lucky said. Fitz was already in motion, flagging down their handyman and chef. A chair appeared, along with another steaming plate of steak and eggs soon after. "I got into it with her earlier so she decided not to come," Lucky said as he sat down.
Olivia nodded and continued eating but he noticed a gesture of disapproval from Fitz and said nothing before digging into his food.
A few glorious bites in, he paused to breathe. "This is the best steak I've ever had."
Fitz chuckled. "I wish I could take credit. Olivia chose our staff."
She smiled softly. "You suffered enough under Greg."
Lucky groaned, shoveling another bite into his mouth.
They chatted as the morning stretched on, warm sunlight flooding the kitchen, wrapping them all in that soft, golden hour warmth. After breakfast, they spilled into the backyard where the kids burst into motion—squealing as they ran to the swings and climber.
"I'll leave you two to catch up—Fitzy's getting heavy," Olivia said.
"I've got him," Fitz replied, stepping forward to unclip the baby carrier from her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he ignored her with a grin, slipping the straps over his broad shoulders.
She moved behind him to fasten the clips, her hands brushing his back. For a moment, the air between them was still—full of quiet intimacy only they noticed.
Lucky leaned in to study the baby. "He's a blessing."
Fitz smiled with unfiltered pride. "He looks like his daddy."
Olivia chuckled as she headed back inside.
"I see it. He's got your stubborn little mouth too." Lucky's tone softened. "You made a face earlier?"
Fitz's smile faded just slightly. "It's nothing."
"Come on, man. Say it. I know you."
Fitz hesitated, then sighed. "I think there's a difference between wanting another kid and trying to get your wife on board and then there's guilting your wife into one. With all this arguing, it seems like you're getting close to the wrong side."
Lucky groaned. "Easy for you to say. Olivia was on board with all four."
"Because she wanted them. She wasn't pressured. And now that we're done, I'm getting a vasectomy."
Lucky blinked. "Seriously?"
Fitz nodded. "It's time. Liv's been through enough. If in ten years we want another one I'll just reverse."
"I could never," Lucky muttered.
Fitz shot him a look and Lucky looked away, his jaw tightening.
"Don't let your ego ruin what you have," Fitz added gently. "There's no prize for having the most kids."
Lucky was quiet for a long moment. "You're lucky, man."
"I know," Fitz said.
Later, when Fitzy fussed, Fitz headed back inside, only to meet Olivia walking toward him.
"I was just coming to check on my babies," she said, her voice low and sweet.
"He just started fussing," Fitz said, stepping closer.
She kissed Fitzy's tiny nose. The scent of jasmine and warm skin clung to her, her hair damp from a bath. Fitz released the carrier's straps, carefully placing the baby in her arms. He settled instantly against her chest, still fussing until she gently pulled down her shirt and guided him to nurse.
"Where are you going?" Fitz asked, watching her with a soft smile.
"To the nursery," she said. "We'll have lunch in a bit, okay babe?"
"Okay."
She rode the elevator up, moving slowly, not from fatigue but from the tender awareness of her healing body. In the nursery, she settled into the armchair, nursing Fitzy with one hand and massaging his downy head with the other.
When he was done, she burped him, changed him, cleaned him when he spit up and pooped at once.
Later, as she stepped back outside, she heard Fitz's voice float across the patio.
"—I fucking love my wife. I'd do anything for that fox. Don't ask my advice unless you're ready to do whatever the fuck your wife wants."
Lucky shook his head, "what is it about her that makes you feel the way you do? I keep trying to see if maybe I'm missing something - if there's something I can do to feel that strongly about Teresa. I love her but then I hear you talk about how much you love Liv and see the way you are about her and I feel like I don't compare."
Fitz shook his head, "I don't know what to say- there is not one specific thing about her, it's fucking everything- but most importantly it's because I know that I'm devastated when I'm not with her and she's not with me. I know what it feels like to not have her in my life and I'll do anything and everything to make sure I never have to feel that again- sure she's beautiful and so hot she has me in heat all day but that only make it all better, it's not the reason I love her so much."
And Olivia, standing there in the golden light, their child in her arms, couldn't help but blush heavily.
Lucky laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "I'll probably never get to that because we're just different. Still, it's so amusing watching Olivia turn you into complete mush."
Fitz smirked, unbothered. "That's exactly how it's supposed to be."
Behind them, Olivia cleared her throat. Fitz turned around with that crooked, curious grin that never failed to warm her. "Hey, baby," he said, eyes narrowing just enough to wonder if she'd overheard them.
She blushed and shook her head, though her smile betrayed her. "Are you ready for lunch?"
"Yes" he said, moving to follow her inside, but she held up a hand.
"Melissa's bringing it out in a bit."
Lucky grinned, stretching his arms behind his head. "Good. Liv, I need to pick your brain—"
"Wait," Fitz cut in, stepping over to her. He gently scooped Fitzy from her arms, careful not to wake him as he adjusted the light blanket.
"Fitz," Olivia protested, her tone light. "I have to get used to carrying him."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because," she said, mock-serious, "I need to build up my strength. He's only going to get heavier."
"Why?" Fitz asked again, eyes gleaming now.
She huffed, exaggerating. "In case there's, like, a zombie apocalypse or something and I have to carry him for miles on foot. I'd be fucked."
He snorted. "Do I look like the kind of man who dies in the first wave of an apocalypse?"
"Well," she said, folding her arms, "what if you had to carry all three girls and needed backup?"
He looked completely unbothered. "All four of them combined don't weigh more than 200 pounds. I'd manage."
"What if you had to carry food and supplies too?"
"You're grasping," he teased. "And it's a little pathetic."
Olivia let out a laugh, full and rich. "Lucky, you see what I deal with?"
Fitz grinned and kissed her temple. "She pretends she doesn't love it."
She turned away, smiling, and they made their way down to the lower deck near the pool house where the kids played in the distance.
Once settled by the open glass doors, Lucky leaned back in his chair, the weight of something more serious settling in his expression. "So I need your advice," he said. "Your husband is completely useless at giving it."
"Hey," Fitz objected, hand to his chest.
Olivia chuckled. "What's going on?"
Lucky exhaled. "It's Teresa. We've been… arguing a bit. I want another baby. She doesn't."
Olivia's expression softened as she listened.
"She was always on board, you know? Before Alex, we used to talk about a big family. But now, it's like she's changed her mind. I told Fitz—I don't think I'm forcing her, but I also don't get what changed."
Olivia tilted her head, thoughtful. "How much do you help her?"
Lucky frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Olivia said slowly, "Teresa told me about Alex's birth. It wasn't easy. And sometimes, the experience of pregnancy and birth and even those first few years are enough to change a woman's entire outlook on having more. So I'm asking—how did you help her through it?"
Lucky shifted, defensive. "She doesn't have to work, we have someone who cleans the house. When Alex was a baby, she did most of the stuff, yeah, but once he got older, I was in there."
"In there how?" Olivia pressed. "Like, diaper changes? Night feeds? Soothing colic at 3 a.m.?"
"I work," Lucky said, arms crossed now. "She's a stay-at-home mom. That was the deal."
Olivia let out a long breath, her tone gentle but firm. "Lucky… that is the reason. You're telling her you want another child, but not only are you not offering more support—you don't see the problem with not offering it. You want her to carry another baby, give birth again, and then do all the work again. Alone."
He sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's just… it doesn't feel like it was that hard. My mom had six kids. My dad never got up at night or changed diapers. None of my uncles did either. That was just how it worked."
Olivia shook her head. "That's tradition. And tradition doesn't mean it was good for them both."
Lucky stayed quiet.
"If I were you," Olivia continued, "I'd start by shifting the way you think about raising kids. I'm trying to be kind here, but you sound like you want the perks of a big family without the reality of sharing the work."
Fitz nodded. "That's exactly what I said. Liv and I do everything together. The only part that's strictly hers is breastfeeding—and even that, she pumps so I can do bottles too. We have alot of help, that's fucking obvious but even so, there's alot to do when raising 4 children."
Lucky ran a hand over his face. "I'm not trying to be selfish. I just—didn't think it through."
Olivia softened a little more. "Then think about this: if Teresa's the one who sacrifices her body, her time, her sleep, and her mental health for another baby, shouldn't you be the one sacrificing something too? Like comfort. Or sleep. Or your idea of what fatherhood looks like."
Lucky exhaled, long and slow. "I'm gonna sit with that."
Olivia gave him a warm nod and glanced at Fitz, who smirked and leaned over to kiss Fitzy's head.
"What?" Lucky teased. "You two sharing some secret husband-wife judgment over there?"
Fitz laughed. "Nope. Just agreeing you've got some thinking to do."
Soon after, Melissa brought out lunch—roasted chicken thighs marinated in lemongrass and honey, jasmine rice with scallions, and grilled vegetables kissed with sesame oil. The children joined them, loud and happy, tucking into their own meals.
Later that evening, after a stunning rooftop dinner beneath the firelights and sky. Olivia and the children sang him happy birthday around the 38 candles lit on his large cake. After indulging in slices of the vanilla cake, the girls went to bed easily, worn out and full. Fitzy was already tucked into the bassinet, and Olivia curled against Fitz in bed, his warmth grounding her.
"Today was perfect," Fitz whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead then leaned over and kissed her lips.
Olivia smiled, running her hand over his chest. "I love you so much," she murmured between kisses.
"I love you more," he said, deepening the kiss, her touch winding him tighter by the second. He was surprised when he felt a gentle suck on his tongue.
"Jesus," he whispered as his hands went straight to her hips.
"Say it again," she murmured, fingers threading into his hair.
"I love my wife," he said, slower this time, voice rougher.
She leaned down and kissed him—slow and hungry because she'd been thinking about it all morning. Fitz groaned into her mouth, tightening his grip on her as her kisses drifted down his jaw, to the curve of his throat.
A moment later, she broke the kiss but it was only so she could climb onto him, straddling him. Fitz was intrigued, wondering where exactly she planned to take the night. There weren't many options; she was just one week postpartum.
Olivia smirked because she could guess exactly what he was thinking. She eased down and sat on his thighs, hands smoothing over his abs like she had all the time in the world.
"I missed you," she said softly, voice velvet-thick, as she kissed just below his chin.
Fitz exhaled hard, one hand bracing behind his head, the other slipping into her curls. "Liv…"
"Shh," she whispered, mouth brushing lower, slower, teasing. "Let me."
Fitz ran his hand up her thighs and squeezed her ass as his erection filled with blood. Olivia felt it against her belly. One week postpartum left her with limited options in servicing her husband and truly, if she wasn't so madly in love with him and grateful that he'd been fulfilling her every want and need since the day we re-entered her life she wouldn't even think of it.
She slowly moved back up to his lips and rejoined the kiss as she contemplated where things would go next.
She only had two options and as she sucked on his tongue and lips and felt his strong hands gripping her tightly, she decided to go with the option he would enjoy more. After all, it was his birthday.
Olivia leaned up and moved lower between his legs. She delighted at the sight of the stiff erection and bit her lips as she pulled his penis from his underpants and stroked him up and down slowly, teasing him eroticaly before she took him into her mouth. She sucked him hard, feeling his girth and stiffness. She loved the feeling of him in her mouth and she loved the taste of his skin.
She heard him moaning softly as she continued sucking him until him stiffened and let out a grunt. He came into her mouth and his cum slid down the back of her throat.
Once he calmed she leaned up and smiled as she wiped the corners of her mouth.
He looked winded and it made her laugh.
"I wasn't expecting that so soon after you gave birth," he said, still breathless and flushed.
"Neither was I but these are the accidents that happen when you have an unbelievably hot husband."
He laughed and he pulled his underpants over his now flaccid and wet penis.
Olivia crawled up on top of him and laid her head against his chest.
"Thank for an amazing fucking day, Angel," Fitz whispered as he wrapped his arms around her.
"You're welcome honey but at some point you have to let me throw you a party."
"Why? Today was perfect, you know me so well I couldn't have planned the day any better."
"For your 40th birthday I will be throwing a fucking gala and I'm invited senators and celebrities and socialites so prepare yourself. You have a two year warning."
He groaned playfully and Olivia's chuckle in response. They drifted off to sleep shortly after.
Two days later, they made the two-hour drive to their home on Meadow Lane, Southampton. They arrived just before noon, the sky stretched clear and sharp above them, a blue so vivid it hurt the eyes. Their home stood just beyond the dunes, where a few acres of private beach breathed salt into the cool wind.
Olivia lifted Fitzy out of his car seat after one of the guards opened her door. Fitz climbed out too, unbuckling the twins in the back row, the girls practically buzzing with excitement. Sonia, who had driven up front, stretched with a groan as she stepped out. Behind them, another car pulled in with Chef Stewart and the nannies, and a third SUV carried additional security. Fitz caught a glimpse of the convoy and shook his head slightly — motorcades were for presidents, not family outings. Still, arguing would be counterintuitive.
Olivia kissed Fitzy's head as he stirred in her arms, stretching against her. She could feel the weight of a full diaper through his little linen shorts.
On the other side of the car, the girls were craning their necks toward the sprawling white house. Sonia shut the driver's side door and wandered over, shielding her eyes against the sun.
"So this is our house too?" Daisy asked, awe thick in her voice. "It's so big."
"I have something to show all three of you," Fitz said, crouching to their level, a conspiratorial gleam in his eye.
"I love daddy's surprises!" Lily shrieked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Fitzy's diaper is soaked," Olivia said, glancing down at her restless baby.
"I can take him," Sonia offered, stepping forward and gently lifting Fitzy from Olivia's arms.
"Thanks, Sonia — his nursery's on the second floor. You'll see his name on the door."
Sonia smiled and kissed Fitzy's head before disappearing into the house with him.
"What's the surprise, Daddy?" Lily pressed.
"You have to wait, princess," Fitz said, offering his hand to Olivia, who laced her fingers into his. She fit there so naturally, like she always had. There was something about being with her, even after everything, that felt simple and certain in a way nothing else did. He'd tried to explain it to Lucky but was sure he failed in truly explaining how he felt about her and what she meant to him. Still, he brushed it off and headed off.
They walked together toward the backyard, following a wide path past a tennis court to a low red barn behind a mesh-lined white barn fence.
Inside the barnyard, the girls were craning their necks, trying to see. Fitz chuckled, unlatched the gate, and motioned them in.
"Ron?" he called.
An older man in denim overalls appeared from the barn, wiping his hands on a rag already stained from the day's work.
"Mr. Grant," Ron greeted. "Good to finally meet you. I'd shake your hand, but—" he lifted grimy palms and laughed.
"No problem," Fitz said with a grin. "I'm not big on handshakes anyway."
The girls practically vibrated with impatience. Isabelle tugged on Fitz's pants. "Daddy! The surprise?"
Ron nodded and ducked back inside. Moments later, soft bleating filled the air — and out skipped a miniature pygmy goat, its tiny hooves tapping the packed dirt.
Daisy gasped and clapped her hands against her cheeks, trembling with pure emotion.
"Breathe, Daisy," Fitz said with a laugh, but his heart tugged seeing her so overwhelmed.
A second goat emerged, then a flurry of chickens and chicks, and behind them, miniature Highland calves and small rabbits tumbling into the sunlight.
Isabelle shrieked and sprinted after the rabbits. Daisy burst into tears. Fitz crouched quickly, concerned.
"Daisy? Sweetheart, why are you crying?" he asked, brushing her curls from her damp cheeks.
Olivia was beside them instantly, her voice low and reassuring.
"I'm just so happy," Daisy sobbed into Fitz's shoulder.
Relief and warmth spread through him. He hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head. Olivia wiped Daisy's cheeks gently with her thumb. "That's exactly why Daddy did this — so you could be happy. You and your sisters get to take care of them, and learn everything about them."
Still sniffling, Daisy nodded.
"Do you feel better now?" Fitz asked.
Daisy nodded again. Fitz smiled and kissed her forehead before setting her back on her feet.
Just then, Isabelle screamed again — this time racing from a pack of curious chickens, arms flailing. Lily doubled over laughing, nearly dropping the white chick she was carrying.
Fitz caught Isabelle easily, scooping her up as she scrambled into his arms, shrieking.
"They're just chickens, Izzy," Daisy giggled.
"Lily's laughing at me!" Isabelle wailed.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Olivia soothed. "They're just chickens. They're all tiny — they're more scared of you than you are of them."
Fitz knelt down, letting Isabelle's feet touch the ground slowly. When she realized the chickens had lost interest, her body relaxed a little.
"See?" Fitz said softly. "You're braver than you think."
Isabelle gave a wobbly grin.
Soon the girls were running around the barnyard, naming the animals, scooping up chicks, and daring each other to touch the calves' fuzzy foreheads.
Fitz leaned against the fence, watching them with quiet contentment. Olivia stood next to him, tucking herself under his arm. He kissed the top of her head without even thinking about it. Loving her had never felt like something he needed to announce — it was as natural as breathing.
The next morning started slow — Olivia slipped out of bed early, standing by the big windows with Fitzy in her arms while the ocean mist floated in. Fitz joined her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, their son tucked between them.
The girls woke in the morning ready for adventure. Fitz and Olivia took them swimming in the ocean and built towering sandcastles on their private stretch of beach. Chef Stewart spoiled them all with lobster rolls and berry tarts for lunch where the girls sat cross-legged at the patio table, still wrapped in beach towels.
In the afternoon, they wandered through the barnyard. The girls learned how to bottle-feed the goats, collect warm eggs from under flustered hens, and coax shy rabbits from their hiding spots. Ron taught them how to toss feed, how to approach the animals gently.
That night, after an endless bubble bath and whispered bedtime stories, Fitz and Olivia sat together on the back porch facing the ocean. There was a glass of whiskey close by, their feet propped up, the stars splattered across the sky like paint.
They didn't even talk — didn't need to as they enjoyed the quiet, beautiful night.
They spent the entire week at the house.