The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you padded into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Jake was perched on the counter in sweats and a loose shirt, grinning ear-to-ear while eating a slice of the cake you’d made the night before—at 7 a.m. no less.

"Jake, that was for tonight!" you groaned, swatting his arm lightly.

He only pouted dramatically, pulling you into his lap as he stuffed another bite into his mouth. "It’s called quality control, baby. What if it tasted bad?"

Before you could respond, Jay walked in, crisp and perfect as always, dressed for a morning meeting. He raised an eyebrow at the sight before him—Jake covered in crumbs and you curled up in his arms like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Seriously, Jake? You couldn’t wait?” Jay sighed, rolling up his sleeves. He stepped behind you, gently brushing a crumb off your cheek before kissing your temple.

“It's for me anyway.” Jake grinned cheekily.

“You’re a menace,” Jay muttered, but his lips quirked into a smile.

Sandwiched between your husbands, you couldn’t help but laugh. Life with them was messy, loud, and chaotic—but it was yours.