Page 157 of Triple Play
“Unfortunately.”
His smile is small. Real. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you love us.”
“You’re so needy.”
“Elise.”
I roll my eyes. But I’m smiling. “I love you. All three of you. Even when Jordie’s talking about getting me pregnant again when I specifically said no.”
“For now,” Jordie adds. “No more babies for now.”
Wyatt’s hand finds mine. Squeezes. “We love you too. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Good.” He pulls me closer. Steps behind me so I’m bracketed between him and Grant. “Now let us show you.”
Grant’s already working my zipper down. Slow. Deliberate. His ice-blue eyes never leaving mine.
“You’ve been tense all night.”
“I’m always tense. Three kids under four will do that.”
“Exactly.” Jordie’s shedding his jacket, loosening his tie the rest of the way. “Which is why you need to relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You’re wound tighter than I am before playoffs,” Grant says.
“That’s not possible.”
“It’s absolutely possible.”
Wyatt’s hands are on my shoulders now. Working at the knots that have taken up permanent residence there. “Let us take care of you.”
And this—this is why it works. Why, after five years and three kids and all the chaos that would break normal people, we’re still solid.
Because they notice. They pay attention. They make me feel like even exhausted and covered in spit-up and running on fumes, I’m still the most important thing in their world.
My dress hits the floor.
Grant’s hands are reverent. Tracing the stretch marks on my hips like they’re something precious. “Beautiful.”
“I’ve had three kids. There are stretch marks and—”
“Perfect,” Wyatt interrupts. His lips are on my shoulder. “You’re perfect.”
“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Jordie adds. He’s down to his boxer briefs now, shameless as always. “Then and now.”
“You guys are ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously in love with you,” Grant says.
We move to the bed—the custom king that actually fits all four of us.
