40. Maeve #2
When everyone gets up to prepare for our outing, I hurry down the hall to grab my coat and boots—only to have someone catch my arm, strong fingers wrapping around my bicep. I recognize the scent of cedar, spice, and a hint of citrus immediately: it’s Hayden.
He crowds me into the coat closet and shuts the door behind us, trapping us in intimate darkness. There’s barely any room in here, which means I’m pressed flush against his hard body, surrounded by hanging coats that make the space feel small and insulated.
“What are you doing?” I whisper breathlessly.
“Ford isn’t the only one who gets to kiss you like that,” Hayden murmurs against my ear, and then his mouth captures mine hungrily.
I melt into him. I have no idea how long we spend in that closet making out like teenagers playing Seven Minutes in Heaven, but I don’t care. It feels incredible.
I’m burning up and wet and aching by the time Hayden finally pulls away. His hands mapping every curve, his muscular thigh pressed between my legs, his mouth claiming mine, his tongue exploring—it’s overwhelming. I’m ready to beg him to take me right here against the coats.
Then he steps back. “Better get your things,” he purrs with wicked satisfaction, and then he’s slipping out of the closet, leaving me breathless and thoroughly disheveled.
I manage to pull myself together, but the rest of the day continues in the same maddening pattern. Gabriel is next, somehow getting me alone long enough to press me against a wall and ravage my mouth until I’m dizzy with want.
By the time we’re preparing for dinner—another party at another family’s house in Ford’s parents’ social circle—I feel like I might vibrate right out of my skin.
I’ve spent the entire day with these men kissing me senseless and working me into a frenzy, but never following through.
They won’t even slip their hands under my clothes.
I’m about to lose my mind from sexual frustration by the time we’re supposed to get ready for this party.
I don’t know how I’m expected to be social and charming around strangers, trying to remember who I might have met at the previous party, when all I want is to be thoroughly claimed until I lose my voice from screaming their names.
But then, just as I’m about to head upstairs to change, I see Ford intercept his mother in the foyer. “Actually, Hayden, Gabriel, Maeve and I have different plans tonight. It’s all right if we skip this party, isn’t it?”
Elaine smiles indulgently. “Of course, dear. At least it’s not the Nutcracker performance! You won’t escape that one.”
Ford barely hides his grimace. “Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” he says with transparently false enthusiasm.
“What are we doing instead?” I ask quietly as Ford approaches me.
He winks mysteriously. “You’ll see. Dress cute but not formal.”
All right, I can work with that. I definitely trust these men by now, and I’ll admit—I’m hoping this means we’ll spend our alone time in the house having incredible sex without worrying about staying quiet.
But when I come back downstairs after changing, the men are waiting by the door in their coats, looking nothing like we’re planning a night of debauchery.
I’m tempted to ask what’s happening, but I recognize those expressions. I’ve seen that look on each of their faces enough times to know they won’t answer any questions until they’re ready. I simply let them guide me to the car.
We drive to what appears to be some kind of large institutional building. I’m not sure what to make of it.
“What is this place?” I ask as we park and get out, catching sight of an extensive playground on one side of the building. “Is this a school?”
“It’s a lot of things,” Hayden says softly.
I glance at him, but I can’t quite get a read on his expression.
We walk up to the entrance and buzz to be let inside. Once we’re through the doors, I see the walls are painted in cheerful, welcoming colors, and we’re standing in a lobby that reminds me of a hospital reception area, but much warmer and less depressing.
There’s a woman at the front desk who lights up the moment she spots us. “Hello, boys! It’s so wonderful to see you all again!”
She comes over to greet us, and I notice threads of silver in her dark hair, but her face radiates youthful energy and warmth. All three men hug her affectionately.
“Ellen, how are you holding up?” Hayden asks, his entire demeanor gentler and more open than I’ve ever witnessed. “The kids aren’t running you too ragged, I hope?”
“They’re all fantastic. Let me give you the tour—you’re here for the pageant?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ford assures her.
Ellen notices me and gives me a curious, welcoming look. “And who’s this lovely young woman?”
“This is Maeve,” Gabriel says with unmistakable pride, while Ford slips a protective arm around my waist.
“My fiancée,” Ford explains.
I flush slightly, extending my hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Oh please, none of that formality.” Ellen pulls me into a warm hug instead. “I’m thrilled to see that at least one of you is finally settling down! Come with me—you’re just in time for the updated tour before tonight’s performance.”
We’re guided through the entire facility, and it quickly becomes clear this is a comprehensive youth center. It also serves as a residential facility for children in the foster system who need temporary housing while waiting for placement or dealing with difficult family situations.
The place is incredible. It’s warm and welcoming and fun—exactly the kind of environment that would make a child without a stable family feel genuinely cared for and valued.
During the tour, Ford, Gabriel, and especially Hayden ask detailed questions about everything—making sure the children are receiving quality education, plenty of opportunities for sports and theater and other activities, adequate counseling support, and more.
I feel slightly dizzy listening to how much they know about every aspect of this place.
This isn’t some random charity obligation they fulfill out of duty. I know exactly how much charitable work they do because I help coordinate their donations and gala appearances. I’ve always been proud to tell people that my bosses are generous, compassionate men who never forget to give back.
But I had no idea about this place. This level of hands-on involvement goes far beyond writing checks.
When the tour and detailed discussions wrap up, Ellen leads us to what appears to be a large auditorium that doubles as a community dining space.
We sit with about thirty other attendees—mostly social workers, therapists, and extended family members who care about these children but can’t provide homes—and watch a delightful Christmas pageant and talent show.
The performers range from tiny children to teenagers, and every act is genuinely heartwarming.
Afterward, the men circulate and talk with everyone who attended.
There’s a mother still in rehabilitation who can’t regain custody of her daughter yet, grandparents too elderly and frail to manage active children, older siblings who are too young or financially unstable to care for younger brothers and sisters still in the system.
The men speak with each person individually, asking thoughtful questions about how they might provide additional support.
They’re patient and kind with everyone, making people laugh and feel heard. I’ve never been more proud to know these men than I am in this moment. Several people tell me when they learn who I am—who I’m pretending to be—that I must be incredibly proud of my fiancé and his business partners.
“I am,” I say with complete sincerity. “More proud than I can possibly express.”
After final conversations with some of the children and a planning discussion with Ellen, we head back outside.
My heart feels heavy, but in a bittersweet rather than sad way.
This is reality—some children get dealt terrible hands through no fault of their own.
But there are people like Ellen and programs like this willing to help, even with the kids who are struggling the most.
“I had no idea about any of this,” I admit as we walk toward the car. “I coordinate all your other charitable work. How did I not know about this place?”
“This isn’t like our other commitments,” Ford explains. “With most organizations, we’re happy to follow expert recommendations, write checks, or show up when our presence helps with publicity. Whatever they tell us would be most beneficial. This is different.”
“We wanted something hands-on,” Gabriel adds. “Something deeply personal.”
They both glance meaningfully at Hayden as Gabriel speaks.
“Why this specific cause?” I ask gently. “As opposed to environmental work or animal welfare?”
“That would be my doing,” Hayden says quietly. “I chose this focus. They supported my decision.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Hayden takes a deep breath and stops walking.
Hands buried in his coat pockets, he studies the building behind us.
“I was one of these kids once. But I didn’t have anyone helping me navigate the system.
I was just shuffled from placement to placement.
Most of the adults in my life made it clear I had no real future ahead of me.
Maybe they would have been right, if I hadn’t met Gabriel and Ford. ”
He looks at his two best friends, genuine affection crinkling the corners of his eyes as he gives them a small, grateful smile. “They made sure I had every opportunity for a bright future.”
“I’m so grateful you had them,” I say softly, daring to link my arm through his and lean into his solid warmth.
“I understand what it’s like—not having support or a real family.
Struggling financially. Feeling alone. When you have to handle everything yourself, it can be really, really overwhelming. ”
Hayden covers my hand with his larger one. “It wasn’t easy. But everything worked out in the end. I found my family.”
I smile at Ford and Gabriel, my chest tight with emotion. I’m so thankful these three extraordinary men found each other.
We settle into the car, and I realize I’m starving. “Where are we going now?”
“We have dinner reservations,” Gabriel says with anticipation. “But first, we need to look presentable. These sweaters are adorable for spending time with children, but they won’t meet the restaurant’s dress code.”
A restaurant with an actual dress code. This should be interesting. I’ve never been anywhere that elegant before, although I’ve always wanted to experience that level of culinary artistry.
I expect we’ll return to the house to change, but instead we drive back into town and stop in front of an upscale shopping district. The men guide me into an elegant boutique filled with gorgeous dresses and impeccably tailored suits.
“Don’t you all have entire closets full of suits?” I can’t help asking.
“Of course,” Ford says with a slight smile. “But it’s nice to get something new, especially for special occasions.”
My stomach flutters at the implication that tonight qualifies as a special occasion.
“Pick out something beautiful,” Hayden says quietly, his hand warm at the small of my back.
I venture into the store, although I’m not entirely comfortable assuming they’ll purchase expensive clothing for me.
But I know better than to argue when these men have made up their minds about something.
I ask a salesperson for assistance, and she directs me to a stunning green dress that she says complements my eyes and will look amazing with my hair.
I can’t judge the color myself, obviously, but I love the luxurious feel of the fabric and the way it drapes, and I want to wear something festive.
Once I slip the dress on in the fitting room, I don’t care that I can’t fully appreciate the rich emerald shade.
It hugs my curves perfectly while flowing elegantly around my legs, and the fabric has a subtle shimmer that catches the light.
I feel sophisticated and confident. For the first time in my life, I feel like I want to walk into a crowded restaurant and have everyone notice me.
I’ve never wanted that kind of attention before, because I always assumed I wouldn’t ‘deserve’ it.
That people would whisper about me, laugh behind my back, mock my appearance.
But now I have three incredible men who make me feel like I deserve to be the center of attention, and I’m starting to believe them.
When I step out to show off the dress, my breath catches in my throat.
All three men are wearing perfectly tailored bespoke suits in shades of dark gray, black, and midnight blue.
They wear suits constantly for work, of course, but I’ve learned to distinguish between their everyday business attire and the kind of formal wear they choose when they want to make an impression.
And tonight, they clearly want to make an impression.
Fuck, they’re breathtaking . I imagine them claiming me while still wearing those perfectly tailored suits, and I have to take a steadying breath to calm the rush of heat.
“What do you think?” I manage to ask.
All three men turn their full attention to me, and I flush under their gazes, unconsciously sweeping my tongue across my bottom lip as desire coils low in my belly.
“Let’s go to dinner,” Ford says, his voice low.
I nod breathlessly. Dinner it is.