The Strength of Love: Happily Ever Menage (The Luck of Love Book 3)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “When I first moved in here, for real, I was so certain you were going to kick me out after the baby was born, I didn’t see the point in telling you. Then when some of the characters held similarities to you, I figured you’d be annoyed or repulsed and that you’d be angry at me.

  “When you didn’t kick me out after Lexi was born, it was just something I did when I had a few moments to myself. It stopped my brain from turning to mush at all the baby talk. It wasn’t super important to me, so I didn’t figure it would be important to you. And then when it did become important, I was so used to not sharing it with you that it became a habit.”

  “Why did you think we’d kick you out?” He held up a hand. “By the way, you’re right. You got in my feelings.”

  She blew out a breath and wiped her hands on a towel. Not that they were wet—it was an act born of nervousness. “I knew I would. And to answer your question, I don’t know.

  “I’d been lying in that room down the hall, just dreaming about being able to be with the pair of you. Wishing I could lie in between you and sleep, make love to you, be in love with you both…

  “When a person has all their dreams handed to them, you don’t necessarily believe it’s going to last forever. You think there’s a catch.

  “I knew you wanted a baby, so I figured that would be the catch. And then when I had Lexi, and it was such hard work, I kind of…”

  At her hesitation, he murmured, “Go on. Lay it out on the line. I need to understand, Gia. Only the truth will help me do that.”

  She gnawed at her bottom lip. “I figured I was a free nanny.”

  He blinked at the brutal words, then in a gait most unlike his usually strident pace, headed toward the counter and shakily clambered onto a stool. He rested his elbows on the marble top, plunked his chin on his fists, then whispered, “You know how to hit a man in the guts, honey.”

  “Do you see why I didn’t want to talk about this?” She glowered at him. “It wasn’t my finest moment either. Thinking the worst of you, and praying it wasn’t so. I can’t tell you how many nights I spent wondering if heaven was going to be pulled out from under me the next day.”

  Josh shook his head. “I don’t understand. We did everything we could to include you. To make you feel wanted, loved.”

  She jerked a shoulder. “I know, but I was still scared.” Gia had been scared for a huge part of her life. In fact, she was sick and tired of being scared. Of running.

  That had been one of the beautiful aspects of being with these two. She’d felt safe. For the first time in a lifetime, she’d slept at night without fearing for her security. Without fearing the Lusardis were going to get her.

  That kind of protection, of safety and assurance, was priceless.

  That had added to her terror they were just playing with her.

  Not that she could tell him that, though—a full explanation wasn’t possible, but she could convey some of her fears.

  “I’m sorry, Gia.”

  The simplicity of his apology stunned her. “For what?” she asked, her tone loaded with caution.

  “That you felt that way. That you felt like you had to hide certain things from us.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. It was all in my head. You did nothing to make me feel like that.”

  “Well, that must be a lie, because you did. And that was never our intention.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “I know that, sweetheart. I know. Why do you think I didn’t want to talk about it? I knew it might make you question things, and the fault didn’t lie with you but with me.”

  He reached for one of the cookies she’d set out on a plate earlier and took a bite. If a bite could be thoughtful, then he achieved it. Slowly munching on it as his mind percolated her remark—God, Lexi was exactly like him. She wasn’t sure if that was nature or nurture, but considering Lexi didn’t see as much of Josh as she did Luke, Gia had to speculate it was nature coming out to play.

  After thirty seconds of his pondering silence, she left him to it and got on with her chores again, knowing that wasn’t the last of it but that he’d speak when he figured out what he wanted to say.

  A few minutes later, he murmured, “I want to read one of your books.”

  That made her freeze in her tracks. Her hand, loaded with wet sponge, squeaked to a halt. “You do?”

  He was looking at her in a funny way when she turned around to face him. “Yeah. I do. Does that come as a shock?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Don’t you want me to read one?”

  She licked her lips. “You know when something matters, and you’d prefer not to be disillusioned than face the truth?”

  “I guess.”

  His confusion made her sigh. “Well, it’s that. I’d like you to read one and for you to love it. Then, on the other hand, I’m nervous as hell you’ll think I’m a shit writer.”

  “I doubt it, honey. You wouldn’t still be writing if you were shit, would you?”

  She grimaced and went back to wiping the top—better to wear out the marble than her nerves. “It doesn’t always work that way. One man’s shit is another’s man award-winning read.”

  “True. All relative, I suppose. How about you pick your favorite on your backlist and I’ll read it?” He picked up another cookie and asked, “Has Luke read anything of yours?”

  “He asked, but when he found out about my career, he was about to head off on deployment, and we were traveling to Las Vegas and sorting out Lexi and her school. Things were crazy, so I managed to head him off.”

  “No heading me off, sugar,” he warned, pointing the cookie at her. His menace did nothing more than make her roll her eyes and have a spray of crumbs sprinkle the counter. “I haven’t been a part of this until now, but let me learn.”

  A small smile curved her lips. “Okay. I will.”

  “Do you really think I’m so arrogant I only approve of things I agree with?”

  For a second, she studied him and realized her words from a few nights ago had hit home. Hesitantly, she nodded. “If you don’t like something, even if we do, you’ll try to get us to back off.”

  “In what sense?”

  “Remember when I took up Wing Chun?”

  He scowled and crunched down hard on a chocolate chip. “That was a stupid fad.”

  “See? It wasn’t a fad. I wanted to learn self-defense. But you automatically thought it was a fad because it seemed that way to you. My opinion didn’t matter.”

  “That’s not fair. I told you I’d teach you self-defense. I can help you protect yourself better than those schmucks. You know Luke and I practice Krav Maga.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to learn Krav. Maybe I wanted to learn Wing Chun. I researched it and everything. But you nagged at me until I quit. Then you got promoted and were too busy to teach me Krav, so I learned nothing. Now, if someone tries to mug me, I’m screwed.”

  “You’re not screwed. What did I tell you?”

  She rolled her eyes and threw the sponge into the sink. The squelchy plop made a satisfying sound. “To always give up my belongings. That isn’t as satisfying as breaking my mugger’s nose.”

  “Yeah, but it gets you out in one piece. That’s what counts.” He finished off the cookie, then stared down at his hands. He peeked up at her through hellishly long lashes his daughter had inherited and mumbled, “I see what you mean, though. I’m sorry I did that. I’m sorry if I do that on a regular basis.”

  “It’s not that it’s regular, but it’s common enough for us to notice.” Out of the fridge, she grabbed the milk and, on her way over to him, reached for a glass. Pouring him some, she watched as he took a deep sip the instant she handed it over to him and murmured, “Let Luke do what he wants with his life, sweetheart. He’s already been dictated to by that jackass of a father. Let’s give him some freedom.”

  He groaned and swiped at his milk mustache. “Tea roses? Of all the things…”

  “What’s yo
ur problem with tea roses? What did they ever do to you?”

  “Nothing. But they’re so—”

  “Gay?” she inserted with a sniff.

  “I plead the fifth.”

  “That’s like saying they are gay.” She folded her arms across her chest. “If it makes him happy, so what?”

  Josh grimaced and gathered together the cookie crumbs on the counter.

  As he swirled them about, he said, “I suppose.”

  It wasn’t much of a concession, but for Josh, it was like leaping over Mount Etna in one fell swoop. She rounded the corner, tucked her arm about his shoulders, and peppered his cheek with a kiss.

  “Thank you.”

  When he grunted, she kissed him once more, squeezed him slightly, then retreated behind the counter again.

  Sometimes, the smallest admissions were the biggest victories. At least, that was how it worked in this house.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Have you told them yet?”

  “About the baby?”

  “Of course about the baby.”

  Gia pulled a face. “What do you mean ‘of course’? You’ve no idea how much stuff has been going on around here, Mom.”

  “More important stuff than that new life you’re carrying.”

  She wrinkled her nose at her mother’s cocked brow. “Don’t phrase it like that. It creeps me out.”

  “The truth creeps you out… And I thought I raised you to be Italian.”

  “That means I should whack the guys over the head with a hand towel and force feed them at every given moment of the day. It doesn’t mean I’m sappy.”

  Sandra huffed. “I’d have thought they’d want to know.”

  “Undoubtedly, they do. Hell, Luke has been dreaming about this for years.”

  “Luke? You know it’s his, then?”

  “Yes, Josh and I made sure of it.”

  “I’m not sure I even want to know how.”

  “Well, it’s not brain surgery, Mom. It’s pretty easy to figure out.”

  Pulling a face, Sandra mumbled, “Have you been to the doctors yet?”

  “No. I’ve not had time.” She bit her lip, guilt suddenly overwhelming her. “Dammit, I need to make an appointment with my OB/GYN.”

  “Do it now. That way you won’t forget.”

  Knowing she was right, Gia grabbed her cell and searched through her phone directory for the clinic they’d used for Lexi. Spotting it, she connected the call and told her mother, “I hope they can fit me in. There was a wait list last time.”

  Sandra rolled her eyes. “A wait list. Dear God.”

  “It’s the way it works now, Mom. Especially for good health care.”

  “Just seems ridiculous to me.”

  “That’s only because Harold’s English, and you know about the health service they have over there.”

  “His knee replacement was free! Can you imagine? Socialized medicine seems like a blessing to me. God only knows why he came over here.”

  “For the cheap gas? Or a Yankee-Doodle for a bride? I don’t think he’s had it too bad over here,” Gia teased, then held up a hand when the receptionist answered.

  Luck was on her side, because there was an appointment in ten days’ time—a cancellation. Relief flooded her when the slot had her name on it.

  “Feel better?”

  She nodded. “I meant to sort that out as soon as I got home, but things went a little crazy. At least now it’s dealt with.”

  Sandra smiled, satisfied her daughter had listened to her. “What are moms for if not living, breathing PDAs?”

  Gia snorted, then changed the subject. They chatted for the next half hour about the florist where Sandra worked and her husband and his son. Harold had moved over to the States six years ago after his American wife had passed away. Their son, James, still had family here, whereas Harold was alone in the UK. He’d made the move so that James could get to know his relatives, and he’d opened up a flower shop, which was now successful and managed by both him and Sandra.

  When Sandra laughingly told her a tale about a very rich and extremely annoying patron who’d demanded out-of-season orchids, Gia had to admit it was nice to see how happy her mom was.

  Most of her childhood after her father had died had been spent watching over her mother, sensing how lonely she was and how badly she missed Gia’s dad.

  Then, after Giuseppe, she’d lived in a state of fear, concern and, worst of all, righteous anger. That anger had burned away the fear, but there had been too many close calls, scenarios that still made the hair on the back of Gia’s neck stand on end at how near death had come a-calling to the pair of them.

  But now, there was a buoyancy to Sandra. An air of calm peacefulness. It was soothing to see, and if nothing came of this short foray of communication between the pair of them, then she was glad she’d seen Sandra like this. If anything, it was wonderful to know her mother was happy.

  After the orchid story, they said their farewells, each needing to go on about their daily lives. They connected every day, maybe for ten minutes, sometimes more, sometimes less, but it was something, and it was wonderful to have that contact.

  As she made lunch for her and Lexi, only putting a few sandwiches together—nothing fancier because the guys weren’t home—she realized she could cry at how wonderful it was to be able to pass the time of day with her mom. Doing without her for so long had been inordinately hard. Only now she could contact Sandra did Gia realize how tough it had been. Luke and Josh didn’t realize how fortunate they were to still have both their parents.

  It was probably the worst time for the front door to bang open and for her to hear the loud conversation going on between her husbands.

  Lexi’s voice screeched down the hall, alongside her clattering footsteps as she hollered her joy at the unexpected treat of having both her daddies here for lunch.

  Before Libya, Luke had only rarely been at home at this time of the day, and Josh had never made it back. It was a treat but a badly timed one on her part. When she was weepy and feeling a little sappy, the last thing she needed was to have to work at being normal, but she pinned on a smile when the three of them barged into the kitchen.

  Josh wore his BDUs, yet he looked a little worse for wear. His hair was mussed, and the neat-as-a-pin creases that took a goddamn age to iron into his uniforms had disappeared.

  Luke wore his workout gear, which made sense as today was the day he spent at the physio center. His sweats were spotted with damp patches, and his blond hair was the shade of wheat at his temple and the back of his neck from perspiration. Worse still, though he was grinning at something Lexi had said, his face was lined with the ever-present strain. She knew he was in pain.

  Knew it and ached for him.

  Not a day at physio passed without him returning blanched and pasty from the discomfort the recuperative therapy caused.

  She’d seen him close to tears some days. Others, he’d been eying a bottle of codeine like a drunk needing his next shot of tequila. To see her strong, resilient lover be so weakened by his injuries hurt her more than she could describe. His suffering hadn’t felled him, but it was doing a good job of gnawing at her control.

  “You guys up for sandwiches?”

  Apparently, they hadn’t realized she was in the kitchen, because as one, their heads swerved, and they stared at her. When they did, any feelings of sappiness or weepiness disappeared in the scorch of those single glances.

  Feeling flushed, she cleared her throat. “It’s ham and cheese,” she said weakly, surprised at the dual tornado of lust aimed her way.

  “That will do us fine, won’t it, Josh?” Luke told her, his words throaty.

  Her eyes widened at the tone, which was in direct contrast to his pained features. Feeling like she was in the eye of the storm, already, she had to wonder what the hell they’d been doing to start talking to her like that, and in front of Lexi? Was that why Josh was so freakin’ mussed? Had they seen some action on
the way home?

  Amused by the notion, and turned on, she grabbed the loaf of bread and took out more slices. Setting it up with chunks of cheese, she put them under the broiler with a few drops of Worcestershire sauce until they were molten, dosed them up with ham, and then squished them between another piece of bread.

  By the time she’d made enough for the guys, she’d nearly finished the whole loaf and the packet of cheese. Feeding these two made her pity the army cooks who fed squadrons and battalions. Josh and Luke had empty holes where their stomachs were, and they weren’t on active duty.

  Grateful she only had to attend to the dietary needs of two soldiers—even if one was retired now—she stacked the sandwiches up on a platter, then carried it over to the table where all three were seated and set it in the middle.

  She retreated to the cupboards for napkins and empty tumblers and, on her way back, grabbed OJ and milk from the fridge. The table was already loaded up with the cookies she’d baked last night, and she figured that would set them well until dinner.

  When she finally took a seat, they served themselves, reaching for a sandwich half and putting one on the napkin for Lexi.

  “What are you guys doing home so early?” she asked after taking a bite of the simple yet tasty lunch. The molten cheese escaped in a globular drop that burned her lip and made Lexi squeal, “It’s escaping, Mommy! It’s escaping!”

  Chuckling, she scooped it up with a finger and winked at her daughter.

  Luke grinned at Lexi’s squeal. “Josh picked me up from physio when I called him.”

  “What did you call him for?”

  “It was a half day, and I forgot.”

  “You should have called me. We’d have come.”

  He shrugged and took a huge bite of his sandwich, then poured himself a glass of juice. “It doesn’t matter. The big guy needs to be let out off leash sometimes.”

  Josh sniggered. “Don’t get any ideas about dog collars, Gia.”

  “As if I would,” she mocked. “Why was it a half day?”

  Luke wrinkled his nose. “I could lie and say Tony was taking a half day, but he said he’d pushed me enough.”

  Gia clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip. “Oh.”