Two Cowboys For Her: An MMF Romance

by Ellie Rowe

  “I don’t think she likes the idea of eating lamb,” Liam says.

  “It can’t be that can it?”

  “Remember she was practically a vegan when she moved in. Maybe the thought of meat still gives her problems.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Shall we just go ahead and eat?”

  “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

  “I’ll make her a grilled cheese after we finish eating.”

  We go about eating our dinner. When we finish, we clear the table and load the dishwasher. Samantha is in her room. We go knock on her door when we finish in the kitchen.

  “Sam, are you all right?”

  “Can we come in?” Liam asks.

  Samantha comes to the door to let us in. She’s already changed into her pajamas. Sam directs us to the sofa and chairs that she has in her sitting area.

  “Guys, I have something to tell you,” Samantha says.

  I feel a knot in my stomach. Is Samantha going to tell us that she is terminally ill? She is acting too serious.

  “What’s the matter Sam?” I ask.

  “Is it going to be bad news?” Liam asks.

  Samantha sits down on the sofa with me. She takes a sofa pillow and hugs it in front of her tummy. She has a grin on her face which gives me relief. She wouldn’t have that big of a grin on her face if she were dying, I reassure myself.

  “I’ve got something to tell you guys about the reason I was in the bathroom throwing up.”

  “Sam, if we have to start eating vegan, it’s all right with me,” I say.

  “Sure Samantha, I can certainly learn to cook only vegan food,” Liam says.

  Samantha gives us a chuckle.

  “That’s really sweet of you guys and I might take you up on that. But that isn’t why I’ve been throwing up.”

  Liam and I exchange a look of puzzlement.

  Samantha hugs the pillow and smiles.

  “I’ve got a big surprise for you.”

  Samantha grins at the both of us.

  “My darlings, I am pregnant.”

  Both Liam and I are stunned. I don’t know what to say. We are going to have a baby? My heart sinks a little because this might be the issue that splits us up.

  “Do you know who the father is?” I ask.

  “Oh Asher, is that really important?” Samantha says.

  “How would you know since we are always together when we have sex?” Liam points out.

  “That’s exactly right. It would be impossible to guess which one of you is the father.”

  “Does it really matter who the biological father is? After all, we are going to parent the baby all together.”

  Liam and I don’t say anything. This is going to take a moment to settle in our minds.

  “I wouldn’t treat the baby any differently if I knew he/she was mine biologically or not.”

  “The same here,” Liam says.

  “So, let’s say it together guys. We are going to have a baby. We will raise it all together.”

  I love the way Samantha is so clear about our relationship. It is obvious that in her mind, we are together forever. Liam and I get up to give Samantha a hug.

  “We are so very lucky,” I say.

  “Yes, we are blessed,” Samantha agrees.

  “Talk about happy endings.”

  “Endings? This feels more like a beginning.”

  Then we all begin to laugh. This is all so incredible. I know that we will live happily-ever-after.

  For the rest of the night the three of us celebrate new beginnings. I am thankful in my heart that we are together. This is a great ending to our first year. I hope all our years as a threesome are this wonderful.

  Fifty

  Liam

  Three years later

  * * *

  I recline in my favorite chair on the porch of the ranch, casually blowing up balloons for the celebration today. Yes, I realize that balloons don’t scream elegance, but I like them. Plus, I don’t want to put myself out doing anything else. I can’t get my designer outfit dirty before the party.

  As I reach my point of ultimate relaxation, I hear a gut-wrenching scream come from the kitchen. I know it as Asher’s voice.

  The half-inflated balloon falls out of my mouth as I run inside in a panic.

  I find Asher in the kitchen in his Giant's football apron, waving away thick clouds of gray air. As he opens the oven, the smoke detector starts blaring.

  “I take it the cupcakes didn’t go according to plan?” I ask, leaning against the wall, giggling at the vision of domestic bliss in front of me.

  Asher audibly sighs at a tray of severely burnt cupcakes and tosses them on the countertop.

  “Please don’t act like you don’t do the same thing. I remember you burning the hamburgers we made last week until they turned into meat paste,” Asher reminds me.

  “If I recall, I forgot those due to more important matters,” I smile at him and wink. I did accidentally burn the burgers that night, but I know Asher didn’t care one bit.

  Asher gives me a brief smirk but then refocuses back on to the cupcakes.

  “Fuck cupcakes. That’s a little bit on the nose anyway, isn’t it?” Asher mumbles.

  “Hey, I’m no cupcake,” I say.

  “Well, you also didn’t tell me what else you wanted. All you said was that you didn’t want a cake because bakeries always overcharged for big events,” Asher exhales and throws the cupcakes in the garbage.

  He looks a little tense, and I can’t help but admire the lines on his face when he gives a stern look.

  “Come here, handsome. Don’t worry about a thing, especially not today,” I tell him in my most comforting voice.

  “What will we feed the guests?” Asher asks.

  “I don’t care. They won’t starve,” I dismiss his worries.

  “Who goes to a wedding and doesn’t have cake or cupcakes or something?” Asher insists.

  “I will call Sam and tell her to pick up as many cakes as she can find at the grocery store,” I suggest, moving closer toward my unfairly handsome yet sometimes neurotic soon-to-be husband.

  Asher finally releases his tension for a moment and kisses me on my head.

  “Ok. I give up in the kitchen for today. I want to enjoy myself. You order cupcakes or cookies for delivery, and I will go get dressed,” Asher says.

  I feel happy he seems willing to have fun now.

  “Sounds good. When does your mom get here with the girls?” I ask.

  “They will arrive shortly, I’m sure. She said the girls look adorable,” Asher tells me. He comes seconds away from showing me a picture on his phone, but I stop him first.

  “I bet they look like angels, but I want it to stay a surprise until the ceremony,” I request.

  Asher nods and puts his phone back in his pocket.

  We recently adopted two beautiful girls from an orphanage in Kazakhstan. Asher and I knew that we wanted children before we knew that we wanted to get married. The girls provide so much love, but Asher and I both think they love their Golden Retriever puppy more.

  Asher’s mother took them for the day to let us enjoy ourselves in peace. However, I miss my little girls. I know Asher does, too.

  “The union commences in less than two hours,” Asher slightly squealed.

  “Are you ready to be Mr. Anderson?” I inquire playfully.

  “Are you ready to be Mr. Dalton? Asher asks.

  “Not in that outfit,” I tease.

  “That’s fair,” Asher laughs. “You look like a dream, and I’m covered in flour, smoke, and black cupcake crumbs.”

  “Go get ready. And enjoy yourself, dammit. You always put so much stress on yourself when we have people over,” I point out.

  “People have high expectations due to the big farmhouse and the European travel,” Asher explains.

  “I know. We have such a stressful life,” I roll my eyes.

  At that moment, I hear the backdoor to the house o
pen. Sam uses her key to let herself inside, carrying a bottle of champagne.

  “Happy wedding day!” Sam screams and runs toward me for a giant hug.

  “You look stunning, you sexy bitch,” I tell her.

  She truly does look amazing. I still feel a bit of attraction for the model friend of mine, but I finally understand it. I like Sam’s body. I love Asher for his soul and companionship (and his body).

  “I can’t help but feel I deserve a thank you for creating this momentous occasion,” she hints.

  “We thank you every night in our prayers,” I ham it up.

  Sam smirks and finds two champagne glasses.

  “Where are the babies?” Sam asks.

  “Asher needs to get dressed,” I answer.

  “No, the twins,” she chuckles.

  “They will be here any moment. Ash’s mom took them this morning. I enjoy the break, but if she lets them bring the dog, I hope she knows that she ruined my whole wedding,” I vent.

  “If a puppy running around is the only crisis on your wedding day, you have it pretty easy,” she scoffs.

  “How would you know?” I ask.

  “I play ‘magical wedding tea party’ with the mini-me all the time. She loves it,’ Sam reveals.

  “Wow. Funny what a couple of years can do,” I mention.

  “Tell me about it. But I’m here for the weekend without a toddler for the first time in forever. I plan to get drunk like the old times!” Sam informs me before taking a giant sip straight from the bottle of champagne.

  “You do you, boo. However, you need to find your way home. I plan on spending the night with my husband,” I say. I love the way it sounds.

  Asher strolls into the room with a twin on each hip.

  “Look what I found!” he beams from ear to ear in his Armani suit.

  I go up and give Asher a quick kiss before kissing both of my daughters on the forehead.

  “It’s so sickeningly cute- I need to take a picture,” Sam blurts out.

  “Our pre-wedding picture,” I laugh.

  Sam clicks the picture, and I know that picture will hang on the wall of our empire for the rest of our lives.

  Fifty-One

  Samantha

  One year later…

  * * *

  This past year has been one that I truly never saw coming. After going so long without any contact with my father- he finally reached out to me about ten months ago.

  He told me that he had been in Europe for the past couple of years doing some soul-searching. He admitted that during that whole time he basically talked to no one because he just needed time to think and sort out his life.

  At first, I was very hesitant to even talk with him and give him the time of day, and so were Asher and Liam. They didn’t want me to get sucked into Alfred’s games and get hurt again.

  But at the end of the day- I knew that I needed to just hear him out. When it comes down to it- he’s still my father, and if there is a chance that he has changed and become a good person- well, I need to at least find out.

  So, I met with him at a local diner. Asher and Liam stayed outside in a parked car, just in case anything went south, and I needed a quick getaway (or someone to beat him up).

  He started off by apologizing to me and admitting that the way he raised me was very wrong. He said that the way he treated not only me, but my mother and my brothers- was not okay.

  “There is no excuse for anything that I have said or done to any of you. I am so incredibly sorry for what I’ve done- and even more sorry for how long it took me to say this.”

  I was very shocked to hear any of this, as I never expected the words “I’m sorry” to ever come out of my father’s mouth- but I have to admit, it felt really good to hear.

  He told me that he regrets the way he has lived his life and that he wished he could do it all over again. I told him that I can never forgive him for the way he treated all of us- but especially me.

  He let me know that he completely understood that, but that he wished I would give him a second chance to show me how much he changed.

  “Obviously, you don’t owe me a damn thing- and it’s completely understandable if you say no. Everything I have said still stands on its own. Just know that.”

  I told him that I would think about it, and then I left the diner.

  Asher and Liam were surprised at how fast it went, and I told them that I just needed to get out of there. It was just so odd to see my father like that- to see him vulnerable and admitting to his wrongdoings.

  When you’re so used to someone being a certain way- it’s really hard to ever see them differently, no matter what they do to try to redeem themselves. I just needed time to get away and think about everything.

  Three weeks after that meeting with him, I reached back out to him and told him he could come over to my house. Asher and Liam were there, but our kids were not- I had them go stay with Asher’s mom for the night.

  The four of us sat down and had a real heart-to-heart. My father was surprised to see our relationship thriving, and he had no idea that we were married with kids now. He burst into tears when I showed him their pictures.

  “I can’t believe how much I’ve missed out on… all these beautiful grandchildren I have that I didn’t even know about…” he cried.

  It actually made me sad to see my father crying, and I realized in that moment that he truly was a changed man. It was still hard to believe, but I knew that I had to accept his new self, or it would all have been for nothing.

  Since then, we haven’t become best friends or anything, but things are definitely better. We talk a couple times a month, and he’s met my kids. I definitely don’t see us spending Christmas or Thanksgiving together anytime soon- and especially not Father’s Day- but I’m glad to have him in my life, and my kids love having another grandfather.

  Asher and Liam still hate his guts, and I don’t blame them- but they’re at least civil about it. They’re polite to him, and they don’t talk shit about him anymore- they just don’t go golfing together or what Sunday night football together. Which I’m more than okay with. In fact, it’d be weird if they did do that shit.

  As for everything else in my life? Well, it’s pretty fucking amazing. I couldn’t be happier with where my life is at with Asher and Liam.

  Our kids our fucking beautiful, and way too smart for their own good. I don’t know what I’d do without them.

  The three of us are still considering having more- although we’re leaning more towards adoption than conceiving. We never did find out who the biological father of our kids is, and we never will- but adopting would just make our little family even more perfect than it already is.

  I truly couldn’t ask for a better outcome when it comes to my life. I got so lucky, and despite how hard things were at times- I wouldn’t change a single thing that happened to me, because it all landed me here.

  The one thing my life taught me, is to keep an open mind. Not only with the people in your life- but with the people you might come across in your life. Because you never know what kind of people, or relationships you might find.

  But perhaps an even bigger thing my life taught me, was forgiveness.

  If it weren’t for forgiveness- I never would have been able to get past the fact that Asher and Liam only asked me out in the first place because my father offered to give them his land if they did.

  Liam and Asher never would have been able to get past all of their years of beef with each other, and the three of us wouldn’t have the relationship or the kids that we have today.

  And my father would be nothing but a distant memory that I cry myself to sleep thinking about on occasion.

  I guess what I’m trying to say is that happiness truly does lie in the unexpected.

  * * *

  The End - to read a slice of life for Liam, Asher and Samantha, sign up for my NL: https://www.subscribepage.com/ellierowe

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  Fifty-Two

  James

  As expected, my day is off to a horrible start. Why is this expected? Well, because it seems that any time I have a really important surgery- my day just so happens to be terrible. You’d think the world would be thanking me for going to work every day and saving lives- not cursing me.

  Anyways, my day actually started out fine at first. My morning coffee was perfect, I drank it on my balcony overlooking the ocean. The morning air was perfect, and I was feeling prepared for work today.

  Everything only began to fall apart when I couldn’t find my lucky scrub cap. I’m not really superstitious or anything, I just like to wear a specific one when I have a harder than normal surgery.

  Today’s surgery is big because I’ve only performed it three other times. Which is more than most cardio surgeons in the country, but it’s not enough for me to be comfortable with it yet. Even worse, the Chief of Surgery will be watching it from the gallery. So, obviously that adds at least a few pounds of extra stress.

  After searching everywhere it could possibly be with no luck, I end up having to just say fuck it, and leave for work without it. So here I am, an hour away from the surgery- and still no scrub cap. I looked in the attendings lounge, asked around the nurses’ stations, everywhere. At a certain point, I come to the conclusion that it got thrown out.

  I know I probably sound crazy, but honestly a lot of surgeons have what they call their “lucky scrub cap” that they put on for extra luck during a really big surgery. In reality, I know I don’t need it. But I’d definitely feel better if I had it.

  I’m a cardiothoracic surgeon and I love my job, more than anything in the world. I’ve worked at this same hospital since my residency- did my fellowship here and everything. I can’t imagine leaving the San Diego Central Hospital at any time during my career- I’d honestly be perfectly happy retiring here.