by C. M. Albert
“We decided not to question it,” Ryan said, shrugging as he glanced at Brighton. “It just felt natural in the moment.”
“Is this something you planned?”
Brighton laughed. “Hardly. But someone smart once told me sex isn’t always about the sex. I guess the same goes with a kiss.”
My eyes widened as I glanced shyly at my two men. “So, is this going to become like a thing from now on?”
Ryan’s expression grew serious as he traced my face with his eyes. “I don’t really know, Liv. I was downstairs looking through some of Laelynn’s things earlier, and Kerrington helped me through a pretty hard time.”
“With his lips?”
“What can I say? They’re healing.”
He leaned over and tugged playfully on my lower lip with his teeth. My arms broke out in goose bumps and my tummy fluttered all over again.
“So, what are you saying? Brighton’s magic lips healed you? From what?” I asked, amused by their playful banter and easy comfort. It was much better than the growling and snarky quips from a few weeks ago.
Ryan grew quiet, his palm warm as he laid it flat against my belly. “I realized you were right about a lot of things, Livy. I needed to come to peace with the feelings I was holding inside over Laelynn. Brighton walked in during a particularly rough moment. I was thinking about what a good big sister she would’ve made.”
I watched as Ryan struggled to share what happened. “One minute, Kerrington was holding me and letting me cry the fuck out of my emotions. The next thing I know, our tongues are down each other’s throats.”
Ryan laughed it off, but I could see by the tender way he glanced at Brighton that it meant more than that.
Brighton ran his hand along my cheek and turned my head, so I was facing him. “Are you okay with this?”
“I don’t know. I—I never thought of Ryan as being bisexual.”
He snorted. “That’s because I’m not.”
“And yet you kissed a boy,” I pointed out.
“A man,” Brighton quipped.
“I’m not bisexual, Liv. I’m—happily in love with my two best friends. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
“If it makes you sleep better at night,” I teased.
Ryan picked up a pillow and playfully smacked me with it.
“Oh no you didn’t!” I got to my knees and grabbed the feather pillow I’d been lying on and gave Ryan a good thwap across his muscled abdomen.
Brighton tickled my waist from behind and I squirmed, twisting around to smack him with the pillow for good measure, too. That started an all-out pillow fight, and I was breathless and laughing before we all finally fell back onto the bed. When I finally caught my breath, I turned to Ryan.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For loving me enough to open your heart to the possibility of even more love.”
He glanced over at Brighton, and there was no denying that something passed between them. I could feel the energy of their silent words just as real as if they’d spoken. That’s when I realized what we were building went far beyond anything Brighton and I started. There was a real bond now between the three of us. We would have to delicately navigate how that might change my and Ryan’s relationship along the way. Especially with a baby on the way.
“I love you, too,” Ryan said, his eyes still trained on Brighton’s. Then he slowly rolled over on top of me, his body pressing mine deep into the mattress with familiarity and comfort. He clasped his hands above my head, dropped his mouth to mine, and slid inside of me. I gasped against his mouth as he made love to me, making me soar for the second time that night.
Many hours later, starving, we stumbled into the kitchen in the dark, cooking eggs and making memories as we started adjusting to our new normal—whatever that was. We sat in the sunroom with the fireplace on, snuggled together on the bench swing under a pile of blankets, while we watched snow make its first entrance of the season.
More than anything else that happened that night, this was my favorite memory of all. I would never forget the contentment I felt lying against Brighton’s strong chest, with my legs draped over my husband’s lap. The huge down comforter kept us all cozy as we stayed up into the wee hours talking, exposing ourselves in an even more intimate way than we had all night.
We laughed. We cried. We poked fun at one another.
Best of all? That night we fell even deeper in love in a way that defied explanation. I knew the world wouldn’t approve of the way we’d opened our marriage to Brighton. Six months ago, I would’ve balked at such a thing myself. But if these past few months taught me anything, it was that nothing happens by accident, and the heart holds far more capacity to love than I ever imagined. Brighton came into our lives for a reason.
Sometimes, the universe just knows what you need before you need it.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryan
“RYAN! WAIT UP,” Professor Shanahan called as the elevator doors began to close.
I ground my jaw, not wanting to be trapped in such a tiny space with the likes of Kimber. She’d always been a little over the top and grating, but ever since Laelynn died, it seemed as if she had a personal vendetta to make my life a living hell.
She caught the doors with her hands just as they were about to close. I sighed. There was no graceful way out of this. I pressed the Open button to make things easier. She slid in, her oversize tote bag smacking into me as she turned to face the front.
“Oh, lord. I’m such a mess today,” she said, flustered. “Thank you for holding the elevator for me.”
I didn’t.
“Say, while I have you here, have you talked to that neighbor friend of yours recently? Barker? Boston? I can’t quite remember his name. You know, the one who was eating dinner with Olivia that night. At Rudy’s?” she said innocently, smoothing a hand over her nearly black hair which had been sprayed into submission.
I inwardly rolled my eyes at how passive-aggressive she was. For someone whose husband was a known philanderer, and had a propensity for grooming his young secretaries, it was pretty ballsy of her to take a drive on the high road.
“I talk to him all the time, Kimber. He’s a friend of ours, as you well know.”
“Oh, good. Can you pass along my phone number to him then, and maybe a good word? Mr. Shanahan and I are interested in buying the Kerrington home. We were at the open house, and even though there are a ton of cosmetic changes we’d need to make for it to fit our taste, it has lovely bones.”
I bit my tongue. She knew damn well that Olivia was the designer who helped Brighton with the renovation. I’d pass along her message with any sincerity when hell froze over. There was no way Kimber and her slimy husband would be neighbors of ours.
“Sure. Though I think he has several interested buyers already. I’m sure there will be a bidding war,” I said to deter her. I didn’t actually know what the status of the house was. It was the one thing we hadn’t discussed, even though the three of us spent nearly all our free time together these days.
I was kinda hoping I could talk Brighton into sticking around long term. It would make our arrangement much easier to justify in the future with a lot less explaining to do if he was simply “our neighbor.” I didn’t care what anyone else thought, but it also wasn’t something we’d be flaunting around town or anything. What we did in the privacy of our own home was no one else’s business. Unfortunately, it was also a small town, and I had a visible job that might frown upon an openly polyamorous lifestyle.
The truth was . . . everything was so new to us. We didn’t have all the answers about what we would call this arrangement. Or what the rules were now on how and when we could be intimate with one another. And what if Brighton ended up being the father of our baby? Would he be expected to live next door while his baby was under our roof? It was going to get a whole lot messier before we figured everything out.
Speaking of which, I checked my
phone for the time and watched impatiently as the floors ticked down. I was running late, and today was Liv’s first doctor’s appointment. Brighton was driving her to the OB/GYN’s office, and I was meeting them there. What I hadn’t planned on was one of my straight-A students coming to my office unannounced and letting me know she was considering withdrawing from the program.
The elevator doors slid open, and I waited for Kimber to exit. She turned to face me before I had a chance to make my getaway.
“Ryan, I’ve been meaning to ask after Olivia. She seemed a little pallid at the fundraiser. Is she doing any better? I thought it might be a little too soon to be out and about after everything that’s happened,” she said, waving her hands. She dropped her voice an octave, even though no one else was around, and whispered, “You know, after she lost the baby and everything.”
I clenched my keys in my hand. There was nothing I hated more than a person who was ugly on the inside. And I was getting tired of Professor Shanahan’s backhanded digs veiled as concern.
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m late for an appointment. And Olivia didn’t lose the baby. We both did. However, she is a grown-ass, strong-as-hell woman who can decide for herself when she’s ready to socialize. So, while I appreciate your concern, it’s unsolicited and unnecessary. Perhaps you should keep your eyes closer to your own home than on mine.”
I left Kimber opening and closing her mouth like a beached fish gasping for air as she sought an ego-saving comeback. I knew my response was a little much—but, damn, I was tired of her meddling.
I didn’t give her another thought as I raced to Olivia’s appointment. She and Brighton were already in the waiting room when I walked in, swooping down to plant a full kiss on her sweet lips. She looked radiant, even though she wasn’t showing much yet. I couldn’t wait to see her stomach fill out again. It was one of my favorite parts of her being pregnant the last time.
When the nurse called Olivia back, Brighton and I both stood to go with her. The woman looked at our little group with confusion.
“I’ll just stay here,” Brighton said.
“No, you won’t,” I insisted. “Let’s go.”
Olivia brushed by the nurse on her way to the scale with a secret smile playing on her lips, leaving the dirty work to me.
“We’re all family,” I said, as if that explained anything.
“That’s fine. I’ve seen stranger.” She jotted Olivia’s weight down on her chart and frowned, then ushered us back to the exam rooms, where Liv took a pit stop to pee in a cup and get her blood drawn. After the nurse updated her current prescriptions list and asked a few more questions, she smiled and let us know the doctor would be right in.
Olivia sat nervously on the exam table, picking at her fingernails. I went over and sat with her on the corner of the table, taking her hand in mine. I kissed the back of it and met her eyes. Fear stared back at me.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“How can you say that and be so sure? It wasn’t the first three times. What if it’s not again? I can’t go through that again, Ryan.”
I kissed her forehead. “I know, baby. We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. But I have a good feeling about this.”
She put her hand on her belly through the opening of her scratchy blue gown. “I want this so badly.”
Before I could answer, the door swung open. “Olivia! I wasn’t expecting to see you back so soon.” The doctor looked up from her chart and stopped short at the sight of Brighton on one side of Olivia and me on the other. It was a small room and was getting cozier by the second. “And you brought a friend.”
Olivia bit her lip. I could see her worrying the cuticle on her nail again.
“Yeah, the pregnancy was a surprise for us, too, Dr. Chavez.”
“Ryan,” she said, shaking my hand, “congratulations. It’s good to see you again.” Then she turned to Brighton. “And you are?”
Brighton extended his hand with a warm grin. “Brighton Kerrington. Nice to meet you, Dr. Chavez.”
“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” she said, sitting on her small swivel stool in front of the computer. She started typing as Olivia told her everything she could.
“So, you haven’t been getting your periods for a while now? And you don’t remember when your last menstrual cycle started? You’re making this awfully tough on me, Olivia,” she teased. “Luckily, we’ll know once we get a look at this little peanut and take some measurements.”
Olivia took a deep breath. “There’s something else we need to talk to you about.”
The doctor looked back and forth between me and Olivia. “Does this happen to have anything to do with your friend here?”
Olivia nodded.
“Olivia, you don’t owe me an explanation, but it does help to know what we’re dealing with. Especially with your history. Any deviation in details could make a huge difference in the success rate of this pregnancy.”
“I know. Which is why I need to let you know that—” Olivia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Brighton wrapped an arm around her shoulder in support.
“Doctor, we’ve actively opened our marriage, and Brighton is a part of our family now,” I explained. “Olivia was on birth control, so we weren’t as safe as we should’ve been. The truth is, we’re not sure who the biological father is. But it doesn’t matter who it ends up being because the three of us will be raising it together.”
The doctor nodded. “I see,” she said. But she didn’t look like she “saw” all that clearly.
“A lot has certainly changed since I saw you last. But I appreciate your candor. It will help as we move forward. And, of course, you have doctor–patient confidentiality, so nothing leaves this room. Though, as you know, it’s a small town, Ryan. People talk. If all of you keep showing up for prenatal appointments, it won’t take long for people to put two and two together. Brighton is welcome to be here anytime. But the three of you may want to consider how to handle these appointments going forward and your level of comfort if people start talking.”
I nodded, grateful for the doctor’s honest response.
“So, who wants to hear a heartbeat?”
A smile spread across Olivia’s face for the first time that afternoon. She lay back and reached for my hand. Brighton stood on the other side of the table, his hand on Olivia’s shoulder. The doctor called the nurse back into the room for the exam and placed a fetal doppler on Olivia’s stomach. She turned on the sound and rolled the instrument over her stomach, seeking what we were all eager to hear. I wouldn’t be able to breathe until I heard a strong heartbeat and got the first peek at our baby on the ultrasound. But first things first.
The muffled sound of the doppler dragging across Olivia’s tummy filled the room as we all held our breaths. As soon as we heard the baby’s faint heartbeat, Olivia let out a strangled cry, putting her hand over her mouth. Then the heartbeat grew louder, filling the room.
I glanced over at Brighton, who was staring at Olivia’s belly, tears in his eyes. He glanced up at me, and I couldn’t help but tear up, too, seeing the excitement, fear, and hope there. I leaned over and kissed Olivia’s forehead. “There she is,” I said quietly.
“Or he,” Brighton said, running his hand through Olivia’s hair as he looked down at her in awe. “There’s a baby in there, Liv.”
The nurse joined us at the exam table and smiled at Olivia. “This might be a little cold,” she said, squirting some ultrasound gel in her hand. She rubbed it over Olivia’s stomach. The doctor turned on the ultrasound monitor and picked up the transducer.
“Let’s see what we’re working with.”
The fuzzy, gray image of Olivia’s uterus came into view. The doctor rolled the wand over her stomach until, finally, the first signs of our little baby came into view. I couldn’t have stopped the tears from coming if I tried. They dripped freely down my cheeks as a fully formed baby came into view.
Olivia squeezed my hand a
nd grinned up at me. “There she is!”
“Well, we don’t know that quite yet,” the doctor joked. “But let’s start with what we do know. The first thing you’ll see is that the baby is where it’s supposed to be in your uterus, Olivia—which is a relief considering one of your miscarriages was because of an ectopic pregnancy. That’s not the case with this little fella.”
Brighton leaned over and kissed Olivia, taking her other hand as we all listened to the doctor walk through the growth she was seeing and all the things that were going well and were on target, based on how far along she thought the pregnancy was.
“So, you said you were getting sick at the beginning of your pregnancy?”
Olivia nodded. “I didn’t know I was pregnant. It was an incredibly stressful time, and I’d just started working again. I wasn’t hungry and wasn’t taking good care of myself. I found out I was pregnant when I basically fainted at my therapist’s office and had to be rushed to the ER.”
“Well, according to the urinalysis and blood work, combined with what we’re seeing here on the screen, you look to be about twelve weeks along. That puts your due date around the eighth of April. Heartbeat is strong. The baby is measuring right on track size-wise. The good news is that even though you weren’t getting enough nutrients, everything was going to the baby. With the anti-nausea medicine you’re on now, I expect you to pick up the eating again and encourage you not to worry about your weight with this pregnancy, Olivia. Just enjoy it.”
“Oh, I’ll have no problem with that. I eat like a horse now between the baby and keeping up with these two.”
I nearly choked at Olivia’s comment, but the doctor chuckled. “Well, good for you. Do any of you have any questions? Is this potentially your first child, Brighton?”
He cleared his throat, and Olivia squeezed his hand. “No, ma’am. My college girlfriend was pregnant, but we lost our son during delivery.”
“Is there a genetic reason we need to worry about?”
Brighton shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Umbilical cord.”