Page 59 of The Truth of Our Secrets

Fifteen minutes later, the doorman buzzes us and Madyson leaps off the couch to let Emmet up. I should’ve had the guts to talk about rules because as soon as he’s near, my body will take over.

Emmet’s carrying a recyclable cloth bag slung over his shoulder like a purse and I can’t help but grin. He truly gives no fucks about what other people think.

“Are you ready for what I have in store for you?” His brown eyes are mischievous and one half of his mouth pulls up in a smirk. My mind goes straight for the type of sex toys he’s got in the bag.For her. For him. For me. It’s hard to decide what I want most. For all of us would be best.

He doesn’t open the bag while his eyes run up and down my body.

“C’mon, Mr. Competitive, you don’t get to play until you agree.” He swings the bag in a wide circle, but nothing falls out.

Clearing my throat, I answer, “I’m ready.” I’ve never been more shocked to see a board game pulled out of a bag before.

“Oh, fun! We’ll play this until the food gets here.” Madyson grabs the game and drags the coffee table closer to the love seat. She sits next to me and Emmet sits cross-legged on the rug on the other side of the table.

I frown and he grins. “If you behave, maybe I’ll let you get in my pants,” he teases. “Butyouhave to be the good boy tonight.”

I scoff. As if this kid is going to dictate anything.

I’m in charge.

A half hour later, it’s clear I’mnotin charge. This game is all about quick wit and thinking fast. My answers are too slow and jumbled. Too bad there isn’t a game with questions about hockey, weightlifting, nutrition, and skating. Then I’d smoke them.

When we ordered takeout, Madyson tried to tell me that Emmet isn’t a picky eater, but I have a desire to feed him. Make sure he eats enough.

Half the menu arrives, covering the entire kitchen table. He tries everything with appreciative noises that make my stomach flip.

As the night goes on, Emmet’s mature views on the world surprises me. He’s insightful. I’ve had my reservations about his age, but he’s sort of like an old man in a hot, young body.

Madyson’s giving me an “I told you so” look and nudging my leg under the table.

“I mean, don’t you think we should be able to choose to die with dignity?” His brown eyes are wide, expecting an answer, and I’m not sure how we got on this conversation topic.

“Of course.” I rest my elbow on the kitchen table. That seems like a no-brainer.

“But we literally force everyone to live as long as possible. You need documents signed by a healthcare proxy to withhold care.” He’s waving his hands and his voice has gone up an octave.

“That sounds reasonable.” I’m not seeing the issue.

“Sure if you have money to have a lawyer or social worker that helps you with it. Do you have a living will that specifies what you want to happen if you’re seriously injured? You haveMadyson, but some spouses don’t honor your wishes or have to fight the rest of the family. And we just keep giving care even if someone doesn’t want it.” His face is red and Madyson rises, dragging his chair enough to squeeze into his lap.

Wordlessly, she hugs him and he melts into it. She has an amazing ability to see when people need comfort without them asking. I don’t think Emmet knew he needed a hug until she gave it. It’s one of the things I love most about her.

Her compassion has no boundaries.

Emmet buries his face in her hair and his chest heaves. I’m tempted to leave the room to give them their privacy, but Madyson pulls away and tugs him up.

She drags both of us over to the love seat and positions herself so she’s half in his lap and half in mine.

“Do you want to talk?” she asks. Emmet shakes his head and pulls in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “We’re here if you need us.” She’s running her fingers through his soft wavy hair.

“Nope.” His voice is firm.

“Then no more serious talk tonight. You wanted a fun game night and we can deliver that. How about them Mets?” She laughs at her joke and Emmet cracks a smile.

“You’ll never be a comedian.” He taunts her with a smirk.

“Good thing I have art as my backup career.” Her fingertips trail from his temple down around his jaw.

I nudge her forward, and she kisses him. The sight has me hard in seconds. Other people don’t understand our dynamic. But seeing her give and receive both comfort and pleasure gets me off. Sharing her with someone I trust is easy.

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