Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
In just a few months, I’d have a tiny newborn in my arms. I couldn’t wait to welcome a new niece or nephew to the world—and then I was going home again. To my house, with Luke and Kit, where peace and quiet was an actual choice. If I wanted to play loud music, I could. If I wanted to goof off with my boy, I could do that too. If I wanted to nap on the couch, that’s what I did.
Just yesterday, I’d seen Tate post something online. A photo with brochures about surrogacy. We were stoked for them, granted. But I just couldn’t imagine…
And the army Greer and his three partners were raising? Hell.
No.
I finally saw Luke coming out of a store, and I felt a familiar rush of warmth spread through me. Something had happened between us since we’d brought Kit into our fold, and I fucking lived for it. And I didn’t really understand it, because we’d been good. Amazing, even. Luke and I had been spared any major crisis in our relationship. We’d never allowed ourselves to doubt what we had. And still, when Kit stumbled into our lives, it was as if every color enhanced. Every feeling intensified. So yeah, that new love feeling—I was reveling in it.
It didn’t hurt that Luke was so goddamn beautiful.
I liked watching him when he wasn’t aware. Like right now, when he was focused on checking a receipt. He’d exited a high-end men’s fashion store, so I assumed he’d bought his pop another shirt. Same thing every year. One shirt, one bottle of brandy. Not entirely unlike me with my own father, who received a bottle of whiskey and something for his garage every year. Since retiring, my old man could spend hours in the garage tinkering on everything from his truck to furniture. He loved fixing things.
This year, I’d gotten him a new power drill.
I grinned faintly and took another swig of coffee as Luke rummaged through his shopping bags. He was missing something. Something wasn’t adding up. Then I saw the relief and how his stance lost tension when he obviously found what he’d been looking for.
My stomach grew tight at another familiar feeling rushing through me. More and more lately, I hated that we couldn’t get hitched. Not as a triad. And of course I wanted to take that step with Kit too, but falling head over heels with that boy didn’t erase the fact that I’d spent nearly ten years with Luke. Our history was worth celebrating every damn day.
“Let’s get a move on, darlin’,” I called.
He glanced up and found me quickly. Then he smiled apologetically and hurried over. “Sorry, I thought I’d lost the Secret Santa gift to Cam.”
We couldn’t have that.
“You ready to go home, hon? You look a little flushed.” He touched my cheek.
“It’s hotter than hell in here.”
“Well, you’re wearing your coat…”
Taking it off would just mean I’d have another thing to carry.
“Let’s dump our shit in the truck. Then I’m takin’ my man out for an early bird special,” I decided. We weren’t picking up Kit from work for another couple of hours, and he’d begged and pleaded for McDonald’s today. We could just do the drive-thru route on the way home later.
Feeling a little nostalgic, I drove us to the Outback Steakhouse we’d gone to a lot when we lived in Alexandria. They had Bloomin’ Onions, and they had comfortable booths where we could sit right next to each other. Nuff said.
“We don’t do this nearly enough anymore, baby.”
“I know.” I kissed his cheek. “We’re changin’ that.”
We’d been so focused on establishing new routines with Kit, not just as a triad but how he and I had our thing and how Luke and Kit had their thing too. We thought that was important. And it was. Kit and I, we’d fallen down a rabbit hole of geekery, from building model craft together to reading the same military-themed books. Luke and Kit’s “thing” was more focused on little outings and a pinch of domestic servitude. They liked going to museums and shit like that.
That was when I napped on the couch at home.
Somewhere in the shuffle, Luke and I had forgotten our own dynamic that was just ours. Even Kit had pointed it out.
“We’re not tellin’ Kit he was right, are we?” I pulled a couple bits of fried onion and dipped them in the sauce. “Remember? He told us we spent too little time together as Daddies.”
“Oh Christ.” Luke chuckled and spread butter on a piece of bread. “Does everything have to be a competition between you two?”
I finished chewing and reached for my beer. “For you to even ask that question…”
He merely shook his head at me, eyes shining with mirth.
I took a swig of my beer, then ducked down real quick to give him a smooch.