by ANDREA SMITH
“May,” I replied, knowing that if anyone knew the birthstone for each month of the year, it would be Darcy.
“Emerald,” she said quietly. “Oh my God.”
I looked over at her and hesitated only for a moment. “Please don’t say anything to Lindsey or Easton. I’m not sure if we’re ready to go public with our relationship just yet.”
“Oh my God,” she repeated, shaking her head back and forth. “How did I not see this?”
I didn’t answer because it was obviously a question she was posing to herself.
“I mean, I still talk to Eli on the phone at least once or twice a week and he has said nothing. I mean Christ almighty—it never occurred to me that he’d cross back over.”
Huh?
“What?” I asked, not sure what she meant by that.
“Oh…sorry,” she said, with a slight smile. “Eli told me a while back about that brief, albeit disastrous marriage of his. He said because of it, he’d made the decision to pursue only those of his own gender. That it was safer for his heart that way. Wow—what the hell did you do to my brotha from anotha?”
I felt myself smile in relief. Darcy was okay with it and it helped that someone I knew wasn’t going to give me shit about it.
“Darcy, please,” I said, putting just a hint of pleading into my voice to grab her attention. “Can you please keep this to yourself until…well, until further notice?”
“No worries,” she replied, nodding. “Your secret’s safe with me. But hey, is it okay if I give Eli shit about keeping it from me?”
I giggled softly. “As long as Easton, Trace or Lindsey are nowhere around when you do. I’m in a nice place with my brothers at the moment, and I don’t know—I guess I kind of like that.”
“Deal,” she replied, “But I think maybe you’re not giving them enough credit here. It is your life and your business after all.”
I nodded.
“By the way,” I said, wanting to change the subject, “I see you’re gestating very nicely. When’s the baby due? All Eli says when I ask is that it’s April or May.”
“He’s such a bonehead, isn’t he?” she teased. “We’re expecting our baby girl, Carson, around the twenty-seventh of April. Eli always says that if she takes after me, she won’t arrive until early May.”
I laughed because that is exactly the type of thing Eli would say about Darcy.
Still, I knew that he loved her, but not the same way that he loved me, so I was more than fine with it. Those two actually did seem like brother and sister in many ways. More so than Trace and me, it would seem. But that was something I hoped to change, now that I would be residing in D.C. permanently.
“I love the name you picked out for her,” I said wistfully. “Carson Matthews is an awesome name for a girl.”
“Or a boy, as Easton has so eloquently reminded me once or a hundred times. Geez, sometimes I think Lindsey’s right.”
“About what?”
“Your oldest brother can be quite stuffy, Paige,” she replied, trying her best to use a British accent, but kind of failing at it.
Darcy and I returned to our table, and I didn’t miss the looks of concern that passed between Eli and Cain. My guys were instinctual and kind of protective that way. I gave them both a smile and a nod, letting them know that everything was cool—for now.
Through the rest of dinner, we were entertained with some of Darcy’s exaggerated “Eli” stories from when they were roommates, along with some hilarious tales about a cruise they had all gone on together over a year ago. Darcy referred to it as “The 12 Days of Vacay,” and Easton referred to it as ‘yet another one of Darcy’s brilliant ideas gone sour,’ for which I’m pretty sure he received a swift kick to the shin underneath the table.
True to Eli’s prediction, Easton insisted on picking up the tab for everyone’s dinner as his birthday present to me. Darcy slipped me a card, which I was fairly certain contained a generous check.
Once everyone had finished and was preparing to leave, Eli said he’d go outside to have the valet bring our car around. Lindsey was talking to Darcy, and I watched as Trace made his way over to me.
“Can we talk in private for a moment, Paige?” he asked, his eyes giving away nothing.
“Sure,” I replied, quietly, not sure of his intent.
Cain approached, holding my coat open for me. I immediately put my arms through the sleeves, as he lifted my hair out from underneath the collar, brushing it back from my face, his eyes meeting mine.
“Trace needs to speak to me for a minute, Cain. I’ll see you outside?” I posed it as a question.
He nodded, eyeing Trace through narrowed eyes, but it wasn’t extremely obvious—or maybe it was, at any rate, my brother seemed unaffected.
Once out on the sidewalk, I pulled my collar up a bit to keep the windy chill of the night off of my neck.
“Paige,” Trace started, actually appearing to be unsure of what he wanted to say. “I meant what I said earlier to you. I’m really fucking proud of you and how you’ve really grown over this past year.”
“Okkaay,” I said quirking a brow. “So, why do I think that’s not why we’re out here?”
He ran a hand through his thick, brown hair and looked me dead-ass in the eye. “I had a call from Darin Murphy this evening,” he said. “What the hell are you doing?”
I immediately felt defensive. Fuck Darin Murphy! And the fact that Trace would have even listened to him was kind of pissing me off.
“This is my business, Trace,” I said simply. “It’s not on display, it’s not up for debate, and I don’t have to explain myself to anyone—not to you, not to Mom or Dad. This is my life and, for once, I’m fucking happy.”
“Hey,” he said, his voice softening a bit. “I’m not here to judge you sweetie. Christ, I’m no saint and I’ve got a past. I just want to make sure—I need to know—that this isn’t something that you’ve been pressured into, understand?”
“How could you even think that?” I snapped. “What? Paige is so impulsive or Paige is trying to get attention just like she always does so it must be what? Fake? Well, I’m here to tell you, Trace, that this is real. It’s actually the first real relationship that I’ve ever had.”
“No need to get upset, sweetie. I just needed to ask, because well—I love you, sis. I know that it might not seem that way, but I do. I’ll always be here for you and I just need to know that you’re okay. Hell, I can see that you’re different, and who am I to question your choices? I’ve known Eli for awhile. I don’t know Cain as well, but as long as you’re happy and they’re good to you—well then that’s all I care about.”
I felt a heavy load lift from my shoulders after he said that. One down—strike that—two down, and a helluva lot more to go, but I knew having Trace in my corner was a big win.
I felt my eyes tear up immediately because I knew that Taz truly loved and cared about me. Yes, I was officially going to call him Taz now because it just seemed so right, and because that’s what everyone else called him.
Until now, he had seemed too uptight to be a “Taz.” But not so much anymore. He was my big brother and I knew that he loved me unconditionally.
I stood on my tip-toes, throwing my arms around him for a hug. “Thank you, Taz,” I whispered against him. “Thank you so much for that.”
“You know that I can’t make promises where Mom and Dad are concerned, Paige. That’s up to you to tell them about…your relationship whenever you choose. They’ll not hear it from me.”
I nodded, sniffling a bit as I wiped an errant tear from my cheek.
“Is everything okay, Paige?” It was Cain and he was now standing next to us, his voice filled with concern, and his dark eyes getting darker as he tried to assess the situation.
“It’s all good, Maddox,” Taz said, releasing me. “Just wishing my sister a happy birthday. And I wanted to give her this.”
Taz reached into
his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope.
“You know I’m not much of a shopper, Paige. But I know how much you’ve learned to enjoy working out, so I got you a membership of your own at Lifetime Fitness. That way you never have to put up with that ass-hat Murphy showing up during your workouts.”
“Thanks, Taz,” I said with a smile, giving him a kiss on his cheek.
Eli pulled up in his car, honking his horn.
“Take care of her Maddox,” Taz said gruffly, “Or you’ll have me to face.”
Cain remained solemn, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching, so I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he totally understood where my big brother was coming from.
“No worries, Taz. We will. Paige is very important to the both of us.”
And with that, Taz was off.
Cain helped me into the car. “You okay, babe?”
“I’m totally fine. But you know what? There was no birthday cake today. No candles for me to blow out with my birthday wish.”
“We can take care of that, right Eli?”
“Consider it done,” Eli said, pulling away from the curb.
Later that evening, when we were all stretched out on top of our bed, Cain and I shared with Eli the conversation that I’d had with Taz. I then shared the conversation that I’d had with Darcy, which was pretty much a moot point now, since Darin Murphy had seen to it that my brother had been clued in.
“There’s still the matter of your parents,” Eli pointed out. “And I’m sure there will be scores of others that want to put their fucking two cents in.”
“I know,” I replied, not wanting to feel any melancholy at the moment. I just wanted to finish my birthday out with the traditional birthday wish.
Cain had stuck a candle in the fancy cupcake that we’d stopped to buy at a bakery on our way home to represent my official birthday cake.
“I don’t understand, guys,” I said. “Is this something that we’re supposed to be ashamed of? Because, if it is, I have to tell you that I’m not. But, at the same time, I just don’t want the grief that I know I’ll get from my parents. I feel like such a freakin’ hypocrite about it. I guess I’ve grown comfortable in this private little cocoon that we’ve created here for ourselves. I don’t want it spoiled by any ugliness.”
“Hey,” Cain said, turning on his other side to face me. “We’ll figure it out, sweetie. We’ve got plenty of time to figure it all out, okay?”
I nodded, biting my lower lip and wondering about that. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was simply a matter of time before everything came together and people accepted what we were about.
“Because,” Eli piped up, “We are all in this together—for the long haul, right?”
“Right,” Cain and I answered together.
“I feel so lucky,” I sighed, plucking at the comforter. “A year ago, I never would’ve guessed how happy I’d be right now. Right here.”
“Tell us what makes you feel so lucky,” Cain challenged softly, as he flicked a match and lit the candle on the cupcake.
“Well, I have an awesome new career as a forensic technician with the F.B.I,” I started. “And then there are these men you see—two of them that I love so fucking hard. They make me so happy and they love me right back and it’s seriously the best feeling in the world for me. And for now, I have my brother’s approval, which isn’t easily given, mind you—at least to me, and it kind of rocks. My life is damn near perfect I guess.”
“What would make it perfect?” Cain whispered, leaning over me so that his lips grazed my jawline with slow, soft kisses.
“Yes,” Eli chimed in quietly, his fingertips tracing a trail along my cheek, his warm breath caressing my ear as I felt his tongue lightly trace the outer edge.
I shivered with anticipation because I knew that these men were going to make love to me tonight.
And it would be slow, and it would be sensual, and it would be so very sweet. And for whatever reason, I knew that it would be different with them tonight.
Because more than anything else going on in my life, there was one thing that I was sure of: I had the love of these men, and it was more precious to me than any other gift I had received…ever!
I reflected on how Darcy had looked tonight. She was glowing and happy and I loved when she let everyone feel her tummy when Carson kicked during dinner. I had been totally mesmerized by it.
“A baby,” I finally sighed. “Having our baby would make it perfect. It’s what I want.”
I sat up for a moment and leaned back on my elbows. “So, it’s official—for my next birthday, my wish is to have a baby in my belly.”
I leaned over and blew out the single candle on my cupcake, and as I watched the smoke curl and snake its way up to the ceiling, I smiled.
Bonus Chapter
These men—my men I should say, have been the best thing that ever happened to me, bar none. For the past year and a half, we’ve been living in a mostly blissful relationship, though I admit, it is what some label as an alternative lifestyle.
But it works for us, because we make it work.
My family knows and though my mom and dad may not understand it, they accept it for what it is and don’t judge or preach to me. It would be pretty difficult for them to do that being that they’re clear across the country anyway.
So, we’ve worked ourselves into a committed and triogamous (yes, I’ve made that word up meaning we are all faithful to one another in our love trio!) relationship.
The only issue we currently have is that for whatever reason, I’m not pregnant.
Yeah, I don’t get it either. I’m twenty-four years old now, healthy, horny and receptive to sex on demand, especially during my window of opportunity as we’ve taken to calling it but, nothing.
As in nadda.
As we speak, I’m sitting in the waiting room of my gyno’s office, Dr. Wannamaker.
As in wannamakerpregnant.
Yeah, I get that his name is kind of a double entendre or some such shit, but that is his name for Chrissake. It’s not my first visit on this particular topic, it’s my third.
I have followed his instructions to the tee! Keeping a chart of my cycle, using the ovulation testing kit, taking my folic acid supplements, assuring him that neither of my boys wear tighty-whities.
Geez!
And yes, Dr. W. knows about my somewhat non-traditional relationship, and bless his heart, he’s never been judgy about it at all.
I’m called back to the examining room, where I go through what have now become all too familiar preliminary activities.
The disrobing with everything waist down, pulling on the paper gown, sitting on the edge of the paper covered examining table and waiting.
Dr. Wannamaker breezes through the door, his snowy white hair combed neatly back, and I notice how it covers his collar just a bit.
Bet he was a hippy back in the day.
“So, Ms. Matthews, you followed the instructions my nurse gave you, correct?”
“Yes,” I reply, giving an eye roll, “This isn’t exactly my solo flight, Doc.”
This is the final hurdle and I have had to do it not only once, but twice now being there are two potential sperm donors.
It’s called a post-coital test. I’ve read up on it, and most studies reflect doctors don’t use it much anymore. Dr. W. still does and as I press my socked feet harder in the stirrups, and focus on the ceiling, he gives me his typical, “Open wide, this will only take a moment.”
The cold speculum goes in to take a sample to put on a slide so that he can determine if my cervical mucus is hostile to Eli’s little swimmers.
I can’t believe how gross this all is, at first, I thought Dr. W had been pulling my leg when he said that this was the next step in determining potential fertility issues. It had seemed so odd, not to mention a bit embarrassing trying to reach his often without drippage running down my legs.
&
nbsp; Yeah—okay, I know.
Too much information.
But you get where I’m coming from, right? And why I feel the frustration that I’m feeling right now? I mean I’ve already been through this particular test with Cain—the doc figured he should go first being that Eli has already fathered a child, and that the fact Eli’s sperm count came in a bit higher than Cain’s, and let me tell you that led to a whole plethora of testosterone induced contests.
Think I’m kidding? From arm wrestling, to endurance all the way to longevity, and by that I mean my men actually got a measuring tape out—well, you get the picture, right?
But what I fear most has nothing to do with my men.
It’s me.
Because if the results of this test prove that my body chemistry is hostile to Eli’s sperm, that’s one thing, but if it’s negative for that, then it has to be me—not the guys.
Maybe my eggs are faulty.
Or maybe a higher power simply thinks this is just not a good idea. Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind.
Dr. W. breezes back in the examining room. I had been so lost in my own torturous thoughts, I hadn’t noticed he had left.
With clipboard in hand, he gives me a wide smile and tells me everything looks fine.
Well, Doc, obviously it isn’t.
“Keep taking your supplements, Paige. If nothing happens after your next two cycles, well then we’ll schedule a laparoscopy. It’s a bit more invasive, but it will tell us if there’s something going on with your fallopian tubes.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Back home, I get the double grill.
“Well babe, how’d it go?” Cain asks, coming up to me and giving me a soft kiss on my lips. I throw my arms around him and draw him against me. Hard.
“No hostility against Eli’s swimmers,” I say, my voice cracking just a bit.
“Well hey, then, we just keep trying.”
Eli comes in from the kitchen, having taken the day off of work, munching an apple. “I say we keep trying, babe. Let’s hit the sheets.”
“Seriously, Eli? I’m still dripping you as we speak. I’m going to get a shower and then just chill out in my old room,” I remark, heading down the hall.
