by Palmer, Dee
Heavy lidded eyes, with searing intensity and palpable desire strike me hard in the chest and a little further down. I swallow the ever-present lump in my throat and speak.
“So you two shouldn’t be in here then, should you?” My strained tone sounds more forceful than I had intended, but honestly, the vision before me is hot as hell and all kinds of distracting.
“I like it when you try to be all bossy.” Atticus smirks.
“Yes, it’s cute.”
“It’s tradition,” I huff, ignoring their patronising tones. “There’s not much else that’s traditional about this poly marriage, so why don’t you two bugger off and let me at least surprise you with the dress.”
“As you wish, princess.” The baby sensor sparks to life with the first sound of morning chatter and is far more successful than my instruction. Logan and Atticus leap into action. Jumping one leg into his jeans, Atticus hops over to the door, grabbing clothes as he goes.
Logan leans down to kiss me before heading after Atticus, naked.
“Logan, we have guests staying!” He waves his hand, dismissing the horror in my voice. I sigh when he grabs a dressing gown from the back of the door at the last minute. Seconds later, they both appear with our babies.
“Is your father helping?” I walk over to Atticus and Aurora and grab a quick hug and snuggle from each. We have about five minutes before food becomes their major priority.
“Yes, my father and Susan are already at the Hall. It may not be ready to move into yet but the kitchen and Orangery are perfect for today. The guest room is all set for you to get ready, and we can leave as soon as the babies are fed. Ivan and Susan will be coming back here with the little ones after the ceremony. Who knew instant grandparents could be so useful?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t contact him as soon as you knew the truth.”
“I had more than a little on my mind, and besides, I wanted to make sure you were okay with introducing my real family to our family.”
“You didn’t need to wait; I’m sure Logan would’ve checked them out.”
Logan comically avoids all eye contact. When silence falls, he holds up his one free hand in surrender and explains. “Family isn’t always best, but what we have is special, and I will protect that, whatever the cost. As it is, your father and stepmom are squeaky clean and brilliant with these two.”
“I know this is going to sound a little slutty, but since I woke up all those weeks ago”—sometimes, it feels like a lifetime—“and the decision was made to wait until I was better and then to wait until we were married, the abstinence thing feels more like a punishment, a sex ban. Every morning I’ve had to wake up entwined with the two hottest men on the planet and keep my hands to myself. It has just about driven me insane. So if you don’t mind…I want to get this day over so my wedding night can begin.”
“Oh, I like slutty Tia better than bossy Tia.” Atticus grins.
“Mmm, I like horny Tia.” Logan steps behind me, running his strong hands up my thighs and sweeping them around the front, up and not quite to where I’m aching the most.
“Oh god, you’re going to kill me, guys. Please, please…”
“And we both love Tia when she’s begging,” Logan whispers, and I have to force myself to step out of his hold. I hand Arran back to him and scowl.
“Do you like pissed off Tia, because you are so damn close.” They step back from my escalating hostility.
“Not yet we aren’t, but tonight, princess…tonight.”
“Out!”
“We’re gone.” I close the door, which doesn’t quite slam on the account of it’s a fire door. The satisfaction of a good slam is lost, but I think they got the point.
I flop back on the bed, and my head falls heavily into the plumpness of my pillow. I let out a sexually frustrated groan that echoes off the walls and along the corridor. I know it does since I can hear Atticus and Logan laughing their arses off. It’s been a long month.
After the doctor gave me the okay and I had convinced the men I was fine, fighting fit even, and my leg strength was nearly back to normal, they sat me down and had the talk. The late summer sun was warming the rear garden and terrace of Logan’s townhouse. After dinner we had moved to the lounge area with oversized cushions and cosy cashmere blankets for when the sun finally disappeared and the night chills crept in. Candles and Tiki torches ran the perimeter of the terrace, and there was a fragrant mix of roses and citronella. It was very romantic even if the conversation was more than a little surreal.
“Seriously, how does this work?” It isn’t the first time they have floored me with their united front. I guess that’s what happens when you work as a team, Atticus and Logan have spent every day together, worrying about, caring for, and loving me.
“What do you mean?” Logan frowns, and his dark brows dominate the confusion on his face.
“I mean, I get the premise, just the practicality of it all. I mean, will there be a rota? I know for a fact neither of you share.” I scoff and take a sip of my wine.
“Don’t we?”
“Eh?” My jaw drops when they glance at each other and shrug off my concern.
“Look Tia, things change, and I’m not saying Logan is ever going to be anything other than a rival, but I’ve never been afraid of a little competition. And yes, I will be hoping he fucks up one day and I get you all to myself.” Atticus winks at me, but I see the spark of truth in his wicked eyes, and I’m not the only one.
“I saw that, and you can dream on, pretty boy, you’re the one with the history when it comes to fuck-ups,” Logan counters without a hint of animosity. This is so strange.
“Oh, I think you did just fine in that department too.” Atticus retorts.
“As I recall, neither of you covered yourselves in glory.” I sniff.
“And yet you love us both.” They place their drinks on the low table and come and sit on either side of me. Logan pulls my legs across his lap, and Atticus lifts me so I am half on his lap half facing Logan.
“I do…I really do. Is that wrong? Because sometimes it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels kind of selfish, actually.”
“It’s not. Don’t ever think that, and I’m with Atticus; he’ll fuck up one day and then you’re all mine.”
“Great, so both of you are going to have to have eyes in the back of your head the whole time. How is that healthy for anyone?”
“Can’t fight nature Tia, we’ll both always want to be the Alpha.”
“Great.” I drop my head back against Atticus’s chest and sigh. I love and hate this. Mostly I’m worried it’s not real. “How is this sustainable if you both feel like that?”
“As long as you don’t pick a favourite, this will work.” Logan fixes me with a sincere stare, and I almost feel the seriousness of the resolution in his tone. “We’ve discussed this at length, Tia, and I’m only a little bit serious about wanting Atticus to fuck up.”
“I’m completely serious about wanting you to fuck up, but I’ve no intention of influencing that. We may be an unconventional family but we are family, and we’ll make this work. You love us, and we love you. Simple…the rest is just stuff.”
“Hey that’s my saying; get your own.” Logan leans across me and punches Atticus in the arm. I sit up, preventing a full-on tussle.
“All right, you have me sold on the theory, what about the practice?” I direct my question at both of them.
“The rota?” Atticus asks.
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s not going to work for either of us,” Atticus answers and Logan nods his agreement.
“It isn’t?”
“No, it’s not that I don’t trust him, but let’s face it, I don’t trust him. So the idea of you cozying up every other night with me on my PlayStation? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” Logan clarifies.
“Agreed.”
“So you mean…?” I leave the weight of the unasked question hanging, like the big fat taboo it is.
“We live together, we sleep together, and we definitely play together.”
Gulp.
“That work for you, princess? All for one and one for all, as it were?” Atticus swipes his arm around my waist and pulls me against his erection. Logan moves to fill the space created in front of me. His own rock solid length now pressed firmly against my leg. His lips brush mine when he exhales the words, and I swim in the sensual potency.
“All in, T?”
“All in,” I mouth, my words swallowed by his hungry kiss.
The legal side was pretty simple. It isn’t legal. For the sake of the babies we have signed, witnessed documents that we are each other’s beneficiaries and trusts are in place for Arran and Aurora, today is for us. We are having our ‘wedding’ at the Hall where I will ‘marry’ both of them.
We know our ceremony isn’t remotely legal but it’s our day and as symbols of unity go, a wedding has to top the list of declarations of love and commitment.
We don’t need a blessing and no magistrate would agree to undertake such a ceremony, and none of that matters. It turns out Angus was a Captain in the Royal Navy in the war and was more than happy to use this very tenuous link of him being able to wed couples at sea, in order to do the honours. There are several religions that allow for multiple wives but none that allow for multiple husbands, although in Tibet it is allowed on rare occasions. However, since none of us are of Tibetan decent—and trust me, Logan checked—we are pretty much making this up as we go.
I don’t care. I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world, and this day is just a bonus. It also marks the start of our real life together. In my infinite wisdom, which also happened to be my most stupid decision to date, I agreed to the suggestion we abstain from sex until our wedding night. Both Logan and Atticus thought it would make our wedding night more. It has definitely made every day more of a challenge. We share one bed, and they continue to torture me with their nearness each night. This day couldn’t come quick enough, and tonight, I have a feeling so will I.
The renovated guest bedroom suite in Tartarus Hall where I am about to get ready is stunning. A hand carved oak four poster bed dominates the room with sweeping gold embroidered fleur-de-lis curtains draped on each side, sumptuous pillows and a mattress so thick the princess would never find that damn pea. Matching bespoke furniture is scattered around the large room; chaise longue, ottoman and a beautiful gilt dressing table that, in any other room, might look gaudy but it’s perfectly in keeping with this grand old house.
I have been perched on the edge of the bed, afraid to wrinkle the pristine covers but the clock is ticking, and I need to get ready. I ease myself to my feet, still acutely aware of how lucky I am that I am able to do just that. I give a full body shiver, not at the temperature since the heat of the high summer sun blazes into the room and strikes my body with its warming rays. I shudder from the enormity of the day. I’m really doing this. I pad across the deep pile carpet to the thick velvet curtains and pull them wide. The bedroom over looks the Orangery, and I can see that six rows of chairs have been arranged in a semi circle with a small space down the centre. Ivy and calla lily garlands line the aisle and hang in festoons from the windows frames. There is a small podium, and at the other end of the room are several large round tables set up for the very few guests we’ve managed to corral into attending: Angus, obviously, and the new housekeeper, Mary; Logan calls her Mrs Potts and she doesn’t seem to mind. Atticus had a few school friends, and I had Maria from work. I also invited Tiffany from school who ran a successful online fashion business. She never left the village and mostly designed swimwear and jumped at the chance to make my wedding dress. Logan had a few friends who used to party with him, but only Atticus had any family. He contacted his real father as soon as I woke and has steadily started to build a relationship without the need for lies. All in all, it’s going to be a small affair of around fifty people, forty-seven more than I need.
I take the dress from its covering and marvel at my friend’s enormous talent. She hasn’t done anything like this since college, and it’s stunning. A boned silk bodice with detailing sliced out down the side, mostly hidden by my arms but sexy as hell. The full skirt is a soft netting and organza, layered and abundant, flaring out wide and wonderful. I feel like a princess.
I take a quick shower and step out just as Tiffany knocks on the door. She wants to help me get ready. Her face was a picture of horror when I explained that I was going to do everything myself. Seriously, people need help getting dressed? It’s a dress and make-up and hair. I was sure I could manage. I was wrong. There was no way I could pull off this kind of sorcery.
“Oh wow…” I look at the girl reflected in the mirror. It’s not me, it can’t be. She’s beautiful. Not that I’m a troll, but this woman looks like she’s from a movie. Flawless, glowing skin, soft pink lips, and smoky eyes, the size of which I’ve only ever seen in a cartoon. “Wow!” I repeat, and my fingers reach to check that the image is real and I’m not, in fact, still dreaming.
“Had good source material, Tia. I think your men will be pleased.” Tiffany wiggles her brows mischievously.
“Sod them, I’m pleased. Look at me!” I smile, stunned at the transformation. She piled my masses of chestnut waves low on the back of my head and threaded pearls and tiny white roses into the messy twist. Tendrils frame my face.
“Come on, let’s get you in the dress.”
I stand and walk over to where she has the bodice open and ready for me. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder at me in the mirror and can’t help flashing Tiffany another wide, grateful smile. I drop my dressing gown and step into the dress, lace panties and stockings my only concession to underwear.
Moments later, we are standing at the top of the stairs and I’m gripping her hand, mine with white knuckles, for support.
“Ready?” She asks.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like this is legal.” I let out a laugh that is a little high pitched.
“A piece of paper doesn’t make a marriage, Tia. This commitment you all are making is deeper than any institution. Legal or not, the weight of this decision is the same. I’d be shitting myself.” She nudges my side, and I exhale with a relief filled chuckle.
“Oh good, it’s not just me then.”
“Definitely not just you. Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you down the aisle?” We start to carefully walk down the sweeping staircase and toward the closed doors of the Orangery,
“No, I got this.” I give a confident nod and tight smile, “The only people who have ever had my back are standing at the other end. No one deserves to be by my side other than them.”
“I understand.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I understand, completely. All right then, give me the nod when you’re ready.”
“Right.” I close my eyes and let the peace that I know is lurking in the wings to take centre stage. I’m more than okay with today. I’m blessed, and I am more than ready for the rest of my life to begin, with these two wonderful men as mine, my husbands. I nod to Tiffany, and she pushes the mirrored double doors wide open.
She scurries off to her seat, and I take my first step inside and then the next. The music starts but all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears. I look up and all the air leaves my lungs. Atticus is in navy Armani; Logan is in black Cavalli, and my god, they look lethal. Their eyes bore into me, and even from this distance, I can see the desire, adoration and love. So much love, my heart swells painfully in my chest, constricted by the silk ties in this bodice. I press my hand to my heart, suddenly overwhelmed and unable to breathe. This is ridiculous. My feet won’t move, and before I can express my reason for the hesitation, Logan and Atticus are at my side, hands entwined with mine, squeezing reassurance and whatever I need into that simple contact.
“We’ve got you. Tia,” Logan says.
“Always,”
I let out a little laugh, r
eleasing whatever was holding my future hostage. I take a step forward and don’t look back, steadily walking up the aisle with both men at my side, exactly where, in their handwritten vows, they both promised they would always be.
Always.
“I don’t want to leave them.” My vision wavers, and I’d like to think it was the result of being overwhelmed and exhausted from the most wonderful day, but I know that’s not the case. The ceremony was beautiful, simple and perfect. The reception was relaxed and fun. Dubious dance moves and cringing speeches aside, it was the best day of my life, outside of actually waking up from my coma.
Since there was no precedent for such a wedding, it went off without a hitch. Until now. I’m having a mild panic attack at the thought of a week away from our babies.
“They will be fine, my dear.” Ivan holds a sleeping Arran, and Susan cradles Aurora who is fighting the pull of sleep. Susan tries to reassure me. “Every parent feels like that, but you deserve a break, you all do, and we have all the help I’ll need.” She smiles at a nodding Mary who has jumped at the chance to stay in the townhouse and help with the grandchildren. “I don’t think Vegas is the place for babies.” She chuckles and gives a conspiratorial wink.
“No, I don’t suppose it is.” I wipe the tears wetting my cheeks and welcome the strong, sure arms around my waist. Logan kisses the top of my head.
“It’s six days, Tia, and they will be joining us in St Kitts for however long you want.” Atticus takes my hand and kisses the tips of my fingers, his reassuring smile going some way to ease my anxiety.
“I know, I know. Just…ah!” I scream as, in a blur of movement, Logan spins me in his arms. He hoists me high and drops me onto his shoulder. A loud slap on my arse silences my objection but not my cry of outrage. “What the hell!”
“Come on Mrs Kraus-Matthews, time to join the mile high club.” Logan turns and walks down the steps to the waiting taxi.
