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Rough, Raw, and Ready

Page 15

Doubts plagued her—was it really a choice he’d freely made? Even now as a do-the-right-thing cowboy, Trevor would stick with her out of guilt or out of loyalty.

Did Chassie want that? Would she take Trevor any way she could get him? Even if it meant Trevor was miserable?

She blurted, “What did you do when you walked in on Trevor and Edgard havin’ sex?”

“With both those glorious men naked? As I was gorging myself on all sorts of sexual experiences I watched them finish what they’d started. It was beautiful. Powerful. The hard bodies. The harder kisses. Strong and fast and a little mean.” She frowned. “It surprised me that Edgard was dominant.”

“No,” Chassie breathed. “But Trevor is so…forceful.”

Channing rubbed circles on her baby bump. “I’m not gonna lie. Seeing them together, lost in passion, was hot as hell. But it broke my damn heart to see how much affection they had for each other afterward. How they only dared express it when they were alone. I couldn’t imagine not being able to touch or kiss or tease Colby whenever I wanted. I realized not everyone gets a happily ever after and it made me more determined to get one for myself.”

Quiet pervaded as each woman was lost in her own thoughts.

Chassie drained her cold coffee. “I was half-afraid to leave them alone together today. Even after Trevor promised me he wouldn’t touch Edgard while I was gone.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Strangely enough, yes. But I have a sneakin’ suspicion Edgard can be pretty damn persuasive.”

“True, but I don’t think Trevor will cheat on you.”

She shot Channing a dark look. “He cheated on Edgard all the time.”

Channing wagged a finger at her. “Ah-ah. Not true. Trevor was always up front with Edgard about wanting to be with women.”

“Was Edgard with women too?”

“Yes. Not like Trevor and Colby, but Edgard played his share of bedroom games with the women who took all three of them on.”

Maybe she hadn’t imagined Edgard flirting with her. Or was his attention just a ploy to make Trevor jealous?

“One time he told me…” Channing shook her head. “Never mind.”

“We’re beyond never mind.”

Channing’s eyes were clouded with thought. “Once Edgard told me he wasn’t bisexual. Insisted on it, actually. But I think if he was truly one hundred percent gay, he never would’ve been with women, no matter what Trevor wanted.”

“But don’t men think about sex differently than women? A hole is a hole and any old hole to put their dicks in will do at the time?”

A snorting laugh. “I suppose. I’ve known a few gay men who get all pissy when talk turns to bi men. It’s the norm for them to diss ‘switch hitters’ wanting to have it both ways. But I’m more inclined to believe there are few pure gays out there. I believe you fall in love with the person, not their sexual organs. And sometimes it’s not what is expected.”

Channing’s pause burned through Chassie’s patience. “What?”

“What do you think about Edgard?”

“The first thing that pops into my mind?” Chassie paused and admitted, “I’m jealous.”

“Of their past?”

“Sort of. Mostly it’s because Edgard has a part of Trevor I’ll never have. A part that was so special to Trevor he couldn’t even tell me about it. And the flipside of that paranoid feeling is smugness, because I know if I demand Trevor send Edgard away, Trevor would do it. He probably wouldn’t be happy. He’d secretly resent the hell out of me, but Trevor would do it.” Frustrated, Chassie smacked the pillow. “Dammit. I wish I could just hate Edgard. It’d be easier.”

“Why?”

“Besides the fact he wants to fuck my husband?”

“Chassie.”

“Fine. The man is flat-out beautiful. That sexy Portuguese accent is hot enough to melt the polar ice caps. He’s sweet. Lord, he’s so damn sweet.”

“I always liked that about him,” Channing murmured.

“He’s a damn hard worker. He’s quiet, but it’s a quiet strength, which is something neither Trev nor I have. He’s refereed a couple of arguments between me and Trev, so he’s got a diplomatic streak we’re lacking.”

“Edgard used to get pissed off if he thought Colby was being mean, or if either Trevor or Colby were putting me in a traditional role as cook, cleaner, and laundress.”

Chassie drummed her fingers on the cushion. “You know, that reminds me…Edgard was the one who calmed me down after I saw them kissing today. He’s the one who urged me to stay and listen to Trevor when I tried to bolt.”

Channing’s eyebrows rose. “He was?”

“Yeah. Hell, he even apologized. Said he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” Chassie fell silent as all the questions without answers spun around in her head. “And it might sound stupid as shit, because it’s in complete opposition to everything I’ve just said, but how can I ignore the fact that Edgard loved Trevor so much? And Edgard walked away from Trevor—even when it wasn’t what Edgard wanted?”

“You can’t. You shouldn’t.”

“Edgard loved Trevor enough to let him go.” That idea sank in, low, seeping into the marrow of her bones and she shivered with raw fear. “God, Channing, I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t know what I’ll do if Trevor decides he made a mistake marryin’ me and wants to…”

“Wants to what? Leave you and run off with Edgard?”

Chassie nodded and wiped her cheeks.

“I won’t try and convince you that’s an irrational fear. But I will ask what you’d be willing to do to keep that from happening?”

“Anything.” She repeated vehemently, “I’d do anything.”

“Be more specific. What would you do?”

“You mean like go to counseling or something?”

Channing shook her head. “I mean would you really do whatever it takes to keep Trevor happy and with you? Even if the option he chooses isn’t the easiest one for you?

Or Edgard? Even if the solution is the best one for Trevor? Even if it’s an unconventional solution?”

Chassie frowned, not following Channing’s train of thought.

“Think of it in the terms of that old saying ‘my friend’s enemies are my enemies’, not that you and Edgard are enemies.”

“You’re suggestin’ something like…my lover’s lover is my lover?”

“Exactly.”

Her gaze flicked to Channing. “Whoa. All three of us? Living together in a…ménage?”

Channing nodded. “The French word ménage a trois originally meant household of three, and it didn’t just refer to sex as a threesome, but three people living together under one roof, so that…lifestyle choice has been around for a long time. It’s nothing new.”

“It’s new to me! I’m supposed to consider welcoming my husband’s former male lover into our life? And into our home? And into our bed? Sharing Trevor with Edgard?

Just to make Trevor happy?”

“Stranger things have happened in the name of love, Chass. And you already told me you’d do anything. If you are serious then you’d better not discount the possibility because that is a reasonable, fair and possible solution.”

“But…I can’t fathom how much more complicated that’d make…well, everything.”

Wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t that be harder?

Not harder than losing Trevor for good.

A cry sounded from the baby monitor, startling Chassie.

“There’s my boy. Think about it.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to think of anything else.”

“Good. Be right back.” Channing disappeared down the hallway.

Chapter Ten

Crazy thoughts spun in Chassie’s head. How would a three-way relationship succeed for the long term? Dealing with sexual situations? And jealousy? Sleeping arrangements?

Financial responsibilities? Raising a family with one mother and two fathers in a part of the country that shunned anything out of the norm?

From the monitor came, “Mama, Mama,” and bouncing squeaks Chassie imagined were from Gib jumping in his crib at the joy of seeing his mother. Channing murmured and the boy giggled.

That sweet sound made her smile. Chassie definitely wanted children someday and she knew Trevor did too. Did Edgard? Or did he have that sneering “breeder” mindset so many same-sex couples had?

Thump thump thump. A little ball of energy barreled around the corner and ran straight at Chassie. Gib hit the soft couch cushion belly first, grabbed hold of the fabric in his fists and hoisted himself up. The boy didn’t sit; he bounced. One, two, three times and the last bounce he landed on his diapered butt.

Chassie gasped and he giggled.

“Gib. No bouncing. I mean it.”

He blinked innocently at his mother. “Daddy?”

Channing sighed. “Daddy’s gone, so you’re out of luck with his ‘boys will be boys’ parenting philosophy.”

“This darlin’ face is impossible to resist, Channing.”

“Tell me about it.” Channing straightened Gib’s shirt. “Can you say hi to Chassie?”

Gib stared. No doubt the kid was all McKay. No doubt he’d be hell on wheels, a serious heartbreaker with those deep dimples, mass of unruly black curls and enormous blue eyes. When Gib said, “Hi,” and crawled in her lap, Chassie melted…for the thirty seconds the kid actually sat still. He heaved himself to the floor and was off again.

“How old is he now?”

“Fifteen months. And yes, he’s always like this. Busy from sunup to sundown.”

Chassie glanced at Channing’s belly.

“I’m five months along. When Gib was nine months old, I thought how much harder can one more kid be?” She smiled ruefully. “Then he started walking and getting into everything under the sun. I’m afraid he’ll learn how to climb out of his crib next because it’s the only place I can keep him corralled.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">

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