Chapter 16
Wade
By the time Caleb and I roll back up the drive, the sun has climbed high enough to bake the dust into the boards of the porch. My stomach’s been grumbling since town, and the smell that drifts from the house when I push open the door nearly brings me to my knees.
Sandwiches stacked thick as my palm sit ready on the table.
Hearty soup simmers on the stove. Fresh bread and something sweet and cinnamon-scented cool on the counter.
This kitchen has transformed from a barren place where we threw together barely edible slop to a real home filled with delicious comfort.
And Joelle stands barefoot at the sink with her hair tied up in a messy knot, humming softly; the heart of it all.
Caleb catches my eye as we step inside. Yeah. We’re done for.
Joelle turns at the sound of our boots, smiling when she sees our wide eyes and mouths hanging open like hungry dogs. “Lunch is ready. Hope you’re starving.”
I open my mouth to say something clever, something appreciative, something that won’t sound like I’m losing my mind over the sight of her… but all that comes out is, “God, woman.”
Caleb snorts and hangs his hat on the hook. “Ignore him. Food smells amazing, Joelle. Thanks for your hard work.”
We sit, and I swear the first bite knocks a noise out of me I usually only make when I’m fucking. The sandwiches are so stuffed with meat and cheese that I can barely get my mouth around them. The soup’s rich and warm, and it fills our bellies perfectly.
By the time I’m done, I’m almost too full to move.
“Good?” Joelle asks, watching us with that shy brightness that hits me every time.
Caleb wipes his mouth. “Best meal we’ve had since yesterday.”
She laughs, and I make a sound that I hope passes for agreement, because if I talk too much, I’ll end up saying, "Marry me," and that is not the plan. Not yet, at least.
It doesn’t help that she already moves around this place like she’s adapted to the rhythm and tempo of our lives. Like her heartbeat syncs to the creak of the floorboards, the hum of the fridge, and all our desires rolled into one.
She goes to put the soup pot back on the stove, stretching to reach the cabinet, and that small motion hits me in the gut. The curve of her hip in soft jeans is so tempting. The soft sway of her body tells me she’s full again.
Caleb excuses himself to unload the truck, leaving me alone with Joelle, sending me a loaded look as he leaves.
The moment the door closes, she glances over her shoulder, a little nervous but a whole lot needy, and I’m done for.
I move to her, my hands slide to her waist, and she lets out a tiny, surprised breath. I lift her gently onto the butcher-block countertop, settling her on the warm wood with her knees spread enough to bracket my hips.
“You’re full,” I murmur, fingers brushing the side of her breast through her shirt, finding her hard nipple.
She nods, cheeks pink. “A little.”
“I can help.”
Her eyes flutter, and she leans forward, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “You sure you got room?”
“Oh, I’ve got room.” I kiss her softly, unbuttoning her shirt, then lower my mouth to her chest. The relief that shudders through her when I ease the pressure is all I need.
She sighs my name so softly, it could almost be lost, even in the room's silence.
When she’s eased and trembling, I pull back enough to rest my forehead against her sternum. She brushes her fingers through my hair like she’s trying to memorize the moment.
Maybe I am, too.
I kiss the soft skin between her breasts and straighten.
“Jo,” I say quietly.
Her touch pauses. “Yeah?”
I lift my head to look at her, and the vulnerability in her eyes nearly knocks me over. She’s trusted me so easily, and I owe her truth in exchange.
“This thing with us…” I start.
She stiffens, like she’s geared up and ready for bad news.
I take her hands before she can fold them into herself. “I’m not stopping it. I’m not asking you to stop it. But I need to talk to you about somethin’.”
She swallows. “Okay.”
“About Caleb.”
Her brows lift in surprise, eyes jolting to mine.
“You named your son after him. He must have meant a lot to you back then.”
Her cheeks flush. “I was a kid. Scared. He was… kind. Someone safe. It’s nothing more than that now.”
I nod slowly. “I know. But I need to ask you somethin’…”
She shifts nervously, fingers twisting in my shirt. “Wade…”
“You feel anything for him?” I ask. “Anything like what we have between us?”
Her mouth opens. Closes. She looks startled and embarrassed, and she drops her gaze, searching the floor for the right words to please me.
“I…care about him,” she says finally. “He’s a good man. Always has been.”
“Care how?” I press, not unkindly.
She looks at me then, cheeks blazing. “Not the way I want you,” she whispers. “That’s different. You know it is.”
Heat rushes through me, fierce, possessive and tender all at once. But I’m not done.
“Do you know anything about polyamory?” I ask.
Her jaw goes slack. “Poly—what?”
I huff a soft laugh. “Shared relationships. Families built by more than two people. There are a few families around here like that.”
“There are?”
“Two men, one woman and a whole lot of children.”
Her eyes go wide. “Two men?”
“Yeah. What do you think about that?”
She bites her plush lip, and I use my thumb to pry it free. Finally, she speaks. “You mean in theory, or…”
“Not in theory. I mean, us.”
“You mean a relationship with both of you?” Her incredulity makes my heart sink, but I persevere, trying not to show her.
“Yeah.”
She drops her face into her hands with a groan. “I am absolutely not enough woman for two huge cowboys.”
I grin and gently tug her hands down. “You could be if you wanted to be. If it felt right.”
Her eyes soften but worry lingers there. “Wouldn’t you want… your own girl? Wouldn’t you both want something separate? Not shared?”
“No,” I say without hesitation. “When I see a future with you, I see Caleb in it too. And he wants you. Not to steal you from me. To share the life we’re making. To share you.”
Her breath shakes, and she looks overwhelmed. Stunned. Conflicted.
“Wade…this is a lot… this whole thing. And Caleb… I don’t even know what to think, let alone what to say.”
“I know.” I brush my thumb over her cheekbone, then her bottom lip again. “I’m not asking for an answer. Not right away. I’m asking you to think about it. Really think.”
She exhales slowly. “I don’t know if I’m built for that. I barely have the confidence for this.” She indicates us with a flick of her fingers.
“We’re not pushing you into anything, Joelle. You choose your life and what you want it to look like.”
“And if I say no?”
My throat swallows convulsively at the thought.
“If you tell me no after you’ve taken time to think this through, we’ll talk more, okay?
” I can’t tell her I can keep her all to myself and leave my twin out in the cold.
But I also can’t imagine ever letting her go.
All I can do is hope that she’ll see the sense in this arrangement. That she’ll desire to be shared.
Silence hangs between us for a long moment.
Finally, she nods. “Okay. I’ll think.”
“Good.” I lean in and kiss her, deep and slow. “That’s all I’m asking.”
She wraps her arms around my shoulders and rests her forehead against mine, breathing me in, and I whisper a prayer that she’ll decide that building a life here with us is what she wants.