by Vivian Arend
“I like her,” Travis admitted. “Not just because the soup was damn good.”
“We all like her,” Cassidy agreed. “She’s the type of person I think about when hearing somebody say they’ve got a good heart. For all her churchgoing, never once have I felt as if she’s judging us. Or that she’s praying for us—you know, the way people act all concerned when they think you’re going to hell.”
“She prays for you plenty, you and Travis. But that’s because she’s heard me complaining and knows you need divine intervention to get back in my good books.” Ashley blinked dramatically.
Travis nudged her with his shoulder before turning his attention back on Cassidy. “So if everything is all right, why do you keep going off into this haze?”
“Because I didn’t have a family, and now I do.” The confession came out a little ragged at the edges. “I can’t think back on my years growing up without it hurting, so the reminder that everybody’s looking back makes me relive that sadness.”
“Oh, Cass.” Ashley cradled his face in both her palms. Her big expressive eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he insisted, leaning forward to kiss her. Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her lush body flush against his. He spoke past her ear, allowing the embrace to wrap him up with sweet tenderness. “Because every time I feel that sadness, it gets stomped on so damn hard and fast because the beautiful truth of what we’ve got now hits like a bale dropping from the hayloft.”
Travis’s strong arms wrapped around them both. “This is real, and it’s ours, and we’re not ever giving it up.”
“Damn right,” Ashley agreed. Then she wiggled and broke the embrace between the three of them, sheer mischief on her face. “Well, now that we know what’s causing your distraction, we need to set up the counter-distraction. Because, sweetie, you just can’t go off like that at the drop of a hat. It’s not safe.”
“I agree.” Travis looked Cassidy over, heat rising in his eyes.
Oh, hell. “What do you have in mind?”
“Giving you something else to think about when those sad thoughts try to sneak in.” Ashley held out her hand.
It wasn’t a decision that needed much thought. Cassidy got to his feet willingly, following the two people who were his lovers into the largest bedroom. The one with a lock on the door that they shared when they needed privacy and space to play.
His partners. His husband and his wife, no matter what the names were on any legal papers.
It didn’t matter how many times the three of them had fooled around over the years, it was still a fresh miracle every time.
Travis took control, naturally, catching Cassidy’s hand and pulling him tight to his torso. The strong, masculine lines of his body contrasted sharply with lush softness as Ashley pressed against Cassidy on the other side.
“Take off his clothes,” Travis said.
“Oh, boy.” Ashley’s eagerness was clear, not just in how she popped up in front of Cassidy but in the way she moved to obey. She grinned. “His bossiness is feeling extra bossy tonight.”
“And once you’re done with him, take off your own,” Travis added, clearly amused.
“How about I help with that?” Cassidy said. “Since this is supposed to be about making good memories for me, and all.” He met Travis’s gaze. “I like unwrapping things.”
“You’ll be too busy,” Travis informed him. Before Cassidy could ask what that meant, he was being kissed.
The press of Travis’s lips against his was wild. Hungry and raw, one step up from animalistic. The sweet kiss in front of their children earlier had been about connection and a gentle, eternal type of love.
This kiss was all fire, and Cassidy dove in with hungry eagerness. Teeth bumping, hands digging into Travis’s muscles, bracing himself to enjoy the assault. Clothes were tugged away, but it was the sharp nip of teeth on his lower lip and the demanding thrust of Travis’s tongue that kept Cassidy’s attention.
A moment later, naked breasts pressed against his back. Ashley’s soft hand slipped between them to wrap around his cock. Cassidy swore, but it wasn’t to make her stop. And while Travis backed up just far enough to rid himself of his own clothing, Cassidy soaked it all in.
A memory? Hell, this night was being burned on every bit of him. His retinas, his skin, his taste buds as Ashley curled herself around him and took up the kiss. Her hands continued to move in a wicked, dangerous tease over his cock.
Sometimes, when they made love, it would go on for hours. Between the two of them, he and Travis could switch off and work over Ashley, or each other, multiple times. But tonight wasn’t about leisurely pleasure. It was about taking and being taken, and moments later, Cassidy found himself flat on his back, Ashley straddling his thighs and rocking her wet heat over his aching erection.
“Now, sweetheart,” Travis encouraged, gripping her hips and lining them up. Taking control of even this as Cassidy and Ashley sighed with satisfaction as they joined.
Ashley’s eyes fluttered shut. “That feels so good.”
Cassidy thrust up into her, pleasure spiking as she dragged her fingernails over his chest. “Fuck.”
“Roll over,” Travis ordered, and the next instant, when Cassidy found himself over Ashley, staring into her bright-blue eyes, he realized they were only halfway there.
Taking and being taken—
Travis covered his body from the back, lips pressed against the side of Cassidy’s neck briefly in a far-too-tender kiss for the heat of the moment. “I love you,” he said.
Calm kisses, but Travis’s hands were doing dangerous things, sliding over Cassidy’s body, preparing him. And when Travis pressed his cock into Cassidy and the three of them were connected in their own unique, dirty-sweet, and passionate embrace, it was perfect.
“Oh my God, this is—” Cassidy fell silent. There really were no words for it. The extreme pleasure of feeling Ashley under him and Travis deep and hard inside him…
“Move.” The order came from Ashley, her hands extending around Cassidy’s shoulders to scratch Travis. “All of us, together.”
Slow at first then harder. Cassidy stared into Ashley’s eyes and saw a reflection in them. Just like the black and white art that hung on the wall over the bed, they were one. Surrounding each other, the painting Ashley had made so many years ago remained a reflection of their life together. Not just the sex, not just the creating of a family, but every day.
Wrapped around each other, watching out for each other, loving each other.
After Ashley had dragged her nails down Cassidy’s arms hard enough to leave marks. After Travis had come, and Cassidy as well, stars floating in front of his eyes—
After the physical act was done, the emotional connection pulsed between them like a live wire, raw and energetic. Powerful, potentially dangerous, yet for them, the only possible way.
Cassidy held his hearts close. He kissed Ashley’s temple then wiggled until Travis was included in the embrace. “Good memories,” he said softly.
Travis grinned. “The best.”
Coleman Memory Book
~Kate (Moonshine) Coleman~
For me, memories come in small, medium, and big packages.
My time as a Coleman started when I fell in love with Randy. Finding our way as a twosome was magical and sweet as well as frustrating and annoying. Because, as we like to joke, if two people in a relationship always get along, then you don’t need one of them.
Overall, our twosome is a unit, and we work together to get things done and enjoy life. Play as well as work. Still learning that at times.
The medium package is the Moonshine family. Which admittedly is growing, with grandbabies for me to adore, but in the beginning, it was a two plus four, and that meant finding new ways to balance happiness, play and work with extra bodies. I’m so grateful that my children have all grown up to be adults I’m not just proud of but want to spend time around. People I can have easy conversat
ions with yet be challenged and supported by.
Which means the big package is the entire Coleman clan. And that’s where the memory I want to share comes from, because otherwise I’ll just gush about my grandkids. Which is good and right, but not what this is about.
When we started the family gatherings on Boxing Day and Canada Day, it made life simpler. Every other year would be our turn to host, once in summer, once in winter. But the year Trevor was born in June, there were two other new babies as well, so Sally said Whiskey Creek would host.
Their house was mostly built by that time, her kitchen a little chaotic and not yet sorted because they were getting married in August and still working on things. Myself and the other sisters-in-law came over early to help each other finish cooking before the actual gathering.
I had offered to make lemon pudding pies. The crusts I’d done ahead of time, so with little Trevor being taken care of in the other room, Sally and I whirled into action, scooping up sugar and mixing vigorously. As soon as the custard started to set, we poured it into the piecrusts and then admired how pretty they looked, all creamy, yellow perfection.
Until Sally decided to lick the spoon.
Her face—dear, Lord—I can picture it now. The sheer horror and the way her mouth puckered before she raced to the sink and spit and spit and spit.
I’d used salt instead of sugar.
Once we figured that out, and Sally had rinsed her mouth and was no longer gagging, that’s when the giggles hit. For the next umpteen minutes, we laughed so hard, we ended up on the floor, stomachs aching.
Sally suggested we scrape the terrible pudding out of the crusts and start again, and in the end, it worked. But to this day, I can’t give that recipe to anyone without enjoying a small snicker.
I learned three important lessons:
1. Sometimes mistakes are the way to learn (i.e., always check that the white, crystal-like substance is sugar).
2. Sometimes we need a bit of laughter to ease past our mistakes.
3. And family is a good place to find both laughter and good advice. Whether you open a small, medium, or large package of Coleman.
* * *
[Images: lemon pies. Family gathered around a fire. Big laughing group. Hugging couple.]
Part III
And what is the future, happy one?
‘A sea beneath a cloudless sun;
A mighty, glorious, dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity.’
* * *
Past, Present, Future
Emily Brontë
17
Hope turned the sign on the front door from open to closed but left it unlocked. Then she wandered back into the Stitching Post, deep satisfaction rising as she gazed around her neat shop, admiring the sample quilts hung along every available surface above the well-stocked fabric shelves.
After nearly seven years, she could honestly say she was no longer afraid of failing. She had loyal customers and experienced teachers and a place she loved to go every day.
Thumping from the back stairs behind the shop brought a smile to her lips. She moved toward the door and welcomed Colton in with a hug. “Hey, big guy. How did your afternoon go?” This question was directed partly toward her three-year-old son, and partly his caregiver, Mandy, who was now passing over one-year-old Cameron.
“Good,” Colton said even as he made a beeline for the play area Hope had set up for kids in the shop. He stopped, hands snapping to a position behind his back. “Can I play?”
With the daycare Mandy operated out of the room she rented from Hope directly above the quilt shop, Colton didn’t need to spend that much time in the actual store. Which meant the shop toys were a special treat.
Hope grinned. “Sure, kiddo. Your Auntie Becky will be here soon, so you get extra play time today.”
Colton was gone in a flash.
Cameron tugged on Hope’s ears to get her attention.
“Just a minute, sweetie,” Hope said as she grinned at Mandy. “You got the rest of them off early?”
“You know how it is on early dismissal day. Most moms give up and grab the little ones before even heading to school.” Mandy tilted her chin toward Cameron. “That one only had about half an hour to nap, so apologies if he’s cranky.”
“Not a problem. Have a good evening.”
While it wasn’t exactly what her sisters-in-law were doing, Hope and Matt had discussed it a lot. The quilt store was more than just a way to make money—it was something Hope had dreamed about for years. And while raising a family was also a dream, she and Matt were finding a way to make both dreams work.
When Mandy had rented the apartment upstairs from Hope and then asked for permission to do some childcare, it’d been a perfect solution. And if it occasionally sounded as if there was a herd of elephants running around above them, no one in the quilt shop minded. Most of them were moms or grandmas, and the noise just brought amusement.
Colton and Cameron were around other children the few days of the week that Hope and Matt’s work schedule overlapped. A few more days right now since Becky was no longer able to fill in gaps in the schedule.
Hope paused in front of the quilt she’d temporarily hung in the shop. It wasn’t the Six Pack family quilt—the one that Matt had sweet-talked his brothers into helping him sew. That one had been shown off a few times over the years and was well known in the community, considering Matt had attached her engagement ring to it.
No, this quilt was the one that had taken her forever to design. She had finally figured out how to incorporate everything she wanted. Staring up at it, her smile widened into a grin.
It wasn’t a pattern anyone else would ever want to imitate, but for her and Matt, the snowflakes falling against an icy-cold Alberta sky were a reminder of where they started. Below the flakes, a clawfoot bathtub—Hope snickered—was surrounded by reflective pieces of fabric that made the edges glitter like a mirror.
Quilts said a lot to the people who knew how to read them, but this one was readable only to her and Matt. A sweet, intimate reminder of important moments in becoming who they were to each other.
The warning bell at the front door rang, and she turned to see Becky come in, baby seat cradled in front of her. Arabella’s thin baby cry trembled on the air.
Hope hurried to help. “Trevor drop you off?”
“Uncle Mark did. We had a late lunch, but he’s headed back to work. Will you be able to take me home later?”
“Of course.”
It was comfortable and easy, spending time together. Becky had worked in the shop until Arabella had arrived. Hope had missed seeing the other woman the past couple of months.
Becky pulled her crying baby out of the car seat, sheer joy on her face. “Sweet princess. Yes, I know, you’ve been very patient.”
Arabella cried again, the sound bringing Colt running to see what was wrong as Becky unwrapped her little girl then put her into position to nurse. Colt rested a hand on Becky’s arm before very carefully touching the back of Arabella’s head. “Baby ’ella’s hungry.”
“Very hungry,” Becky agreed. “Hello, Colt. Did you have a good time at preschool today?”
“Yup.” He glanced at Hope. “I’m hungry too.”
Cameron wiggled in Hope’s arms. “Hu’gry too,” her other son agreed.
“Snack time it is.”
She’d barely gotten her boys settled when the door rang again, and she shot to her feet.
“Sorry, I forgot to lock the door after me,” Becky murmured.
But instead of a wayward customer, it was Auntie Dana coming into the shop. “I forgot it was early closing day,” she said apologetically.
“Twist the lock,” Hope instructed her aunt, “Then come and join us. We’re about to have a snack. Unless you need me to grab you some material?”
Dana took off her layers and settled on the couch beside Becky. “No snack, and no material.” She took a deep breath. “I need advice.”
&nbs
p; Hope and Becky exchanged glances. “Okay.”
“I don’t want to ask Allison or Laurel because I think it might get a little awkward.” Dana shook her head. “Not that talking to you is any less awkward, but anyway…”
Hope’s amusement grew. “We don’t mind embarrassing conversations, do we, Becky?”
“Embarrassing is what we do best.” Becky said it with an absolutely straight face.
“I’m thinking about dating Mark.”
The words gushed out of Dana like water bursting from a broken pipe.
All of the cousins knew—and had known since the day he’d arrived—that something had gone down back at the beginning of March. But since nothing more had happened except for Mark beginning to work with the rest of the family, living quietly with Uncle George at the Whiskey Creek ranch, everyone had gone into wait-and-see mode.
Becky looked delighted. “Oh, really?”
Dana frowned. “You sound as if I just announced I won a lottery.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you kind of did.” Becky offered a smile, the soft, kind, and caring one that seemed to well up out of her like magic. “You’ve had a lot of sadness in your life, Auntie Dana. I was there once—not in the same way, but I do know what it’s like to feel lost. Uncle Mark was in the right place at the right time for me, but he was also the right man. Because no matter how scared I was, he seemed to know what to do.”
“Do you want to date him? Or anyone?” Hope asked her aunt. “I mean, putting aside the fact that I also think Uncle Mark is a pretty cool guy, and quite the hottie—”
“Hope.” Dana sounded slightly scandalized.
“Oh, please.” Becky this time. “I am perhaps not as well-versed in categorizing hotties as Hope is, but I think you’d call him a silver fox.”
Aunt Dana’s cheeks were bright red. “He’s pleasant enough to look at.”
