Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Bo
The rain stops as we lay there in satiated bliss, panting as we all recover from our respective orgasms.
It was just dinner and sex, but for me, it’s enough to know that my instincts were correct. Elle is ours. Our babygirl. Our wife. Amelia’s mother.
Do I have concerns? Sure. Will we all have to make adjustments? Of course.
As far as I’m concerned, it’s a done deal.
“The sex was fun, but we should probably talk about how the double-Daddy throuple thing works in our home and in a real-world setting.”
Nate sits up, looking less blissed out and far more alive than he had several minutes ago, and nods. “Yeah. I agree. It’s definitely different in the bedroom versus the real world. There’s rules and stuff, and well…” He hesitates. “We need a wife for a reason. We need help with Amelia and balancing home stuff with ranch stuff.”
“Right. We should go pick up Amelia soon, and introduce the two of you. Get her acclimated to your presence as soon as possible.”
Both of us have gone into business mode even though it’s not business we’re talking about and it's clear Nate’s brain is racing just like mine is. I’m still in a post-sex haze, body-wise, leaned up against the pillows with my hands folded behind my head and Elle’s head resting on my chest.
At least it was. She’s sat up, her mouth open and working like a fish, her expression one of regret and bewilderment. “I’m not… I can’t…” She starts and stops, looking like she wants nothing more than to run. Finally she sighs, her hands still picking at a fuzzball on the blanket beneath us and says, “This was… amazing. And perfect, and straight out of all my deepest fantasies. But I can’t be what you need. I’m sorry.”
She jumps up and starts picking her clothes up off the wooden- planked loft floor, pulling on her panties, but not even bothering with her bra, and hurriedly pulling her dress over her head. She slides her shoes on and pulls her cardigan over her shoulders while Nate and I sit there, staring at her in shock.
What does she mean she can’t be what we need? She’s exactly what we need. She’s fucking perfect.
Now I'm the one with his mouth working like I fish as I process her rejection, trying to figure out what I can say to halt the escape she seems intent on making.
“I have to go. I’m sorry.” She grabs her purse, and I see her pull out her phone, pushing buttons on some app. She frowns. “Oh, are you freaking kidding me?” she grumbles. “I can’t even get an Uber out here? Well, that’s just great.”
“I’ll take you home.” I jump to my feet and start pulling on my clothes. Helping her run away—because it's clear that's exactly what she is doing—isn't ideal, but what choice do I have? And at least it’s a ten-minute drive to town. That’s ten minutes I can use to plead my case, to hope and pray she’s just scared, and to help her realize she’s making a huge mistake. She says we fulfilled her deepest fantasies, but I refuse to believe that’s all it was—that’s all we were. She can tell herself that until she's blue in the face, but I know better.
Elle was made for us.
“Okay, fine,” she begrudgingly concedes, pulling her sweater tighter to her body as if it will help her keep up the walls she’s trying desperately to construct.
I nod, then shoot Nate a look. I wish he could come with us, but I know better than to force that on her right now. He still looks stricken anyway, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be much help.
“I’ll go pick up Amelia,” he finally manages.
“Great. Can we go?” Elle is already heading toward the ladder. I gently grip her upper arms and move her out of the way, because despite her rejection, deep down, I’m still a Daddy.
In my heart, I know I’m her Daddy and I have approximately twelve minutes left to prove that to her.
Elle
Of course this podunk town doesn’t have an Uber service to get me out of this stupid situation I’ve put myself in.
I let Bo help me down the ladder and into the truck and every second is torture as I remind myself of what I can’t have. It’s not even that I don’t want it. While yeah, I’m not sure I’m truly cut out for the whole Mommy and Wife thing, it’s basically all I’ve been groomed for my whole life, just that everyone always assumed I’d be more trophy wife than ranch wife.
But the ranch thing and the Mommy thing, they aren’t even the issues. The issue is that there’s two of them. And I like them both. I have no doubt that with time, I could easily come to love them both. They’re great men. Of that I have no doubt.
The issue is my father. I need to come home a settled woman, and while he won’t be thrilled it’s not with some New York elite, he could live with that. A hard worker, a man with his own business, none of that would be an issue. Two of them would. Even though polyamory is becoming far more common and widely accepted, and even though it’s something I’ve always been secretly interested in, my father would see it as rebellion, as more antics, and as proof that I’m not worthy of the trust he’s built for me.
I knew that the second I agreed to dinner with both of them. I knew it couldn’t go anywhere. But they were already there, and I didn't see the harm in having a little fun.
Obviously I was wrong, because now my heart feels like it's splintering inside my chest. I’m trying not to show a break in my resolve, but as I stare out the window, I’m blinking back tears.
So far, Bo has been silent, but I can tell it’s not going to last. I’d seen it on their faces when I got up and started putting my clothes on. They hadn’t been expecting a one-night stand. Their minds had already been on forever. On Sunday dinners, and family movie nights and white picket fences. Two-point-five kids. All the things I always thought I’d have some day, despite growing up without them. My father had tried, but my upbringing was more like stuffy private schools, the best everything money could buy and a rotating door of nannies to care for me when he couldn’t, which was pretty much all the time.
Everything I ever wanted is at my fingertips. So close I can taste it. And I have to turn it down.
I can’t go into a marriage penniless. I can’t be that kind of burden on my future spouse. I wasn’t brought up to have a career, but I was always under the belief I’d be able to contribute financially anyway.
On the other side of the truck’s bench seat, Bo clears his throat and I wince. I can practically hear him searching for the right words to change my mind.
But there aren’t any, not really. Only words that will break my heart.
But Bo is a dominant man—a take charge one and a risk taker. The kind of man to put all his cards out there and put everything on the table.
We’re halfway to town when he finally speaks, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. “I shouldn’t have sprung Nate on you like that. I’m sorry about that.”
“That isn’t it,” I reassure him. In some ways, it’s a lie. That is it, just not in the way he thinks.
“Oh.” He nods. “Okay. then what is it, if you don’t mind my asking. Because you seemed on board all night, up until you weren’t.”
It’s an accurate assessment. I was on board. I was allowing myself to play, to experience, and even to dream. But at some point, I have to stop dreaming and face the facts. It could never work with the three of us, no matter how much I might wish otherwise. There’s nothing to say that won’t just give him more questions so I stay silent, hugging my arms to my chest. I don’t look at him because I know that if I do, I will cry.
He takes the hint, and we make the rest of the drive in silence. When he pulls up in front of my apartment, he turns the truck off, and I pray that he’s not going to insist on walking me to the door.
He turns to me, and says, “Make no mistake, I’m bummed as hell, and I don’t really understand what happened, but I want you to know that you can call us if you need anything. Ever. No strings attached.”
Of course he says that. It’s just further proof that I’m probably making the biggest mistake of my life. Bo is a class act.
Gritting my teeth, I force a smile, and though I can barely get the words out, I nod, and thank him. “I really did have a nice time. A great time actually.” And then before either of us can say another word, or Bo can insist on being a gentleman, I push open the door and hop out.
I barely make it inside my apartment with the door closed behind me before I break down.