Chapter 3
THREE
Esmeralda
I wake up to the sound of a baby laughing.
For several seconds, I lie perfectly still beneath the soft duvet, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling.
Then I hear it again. A little squeal, followed by a man's deep laughter. I immediately identify it as Lane’s. I’ve only been here for a few days, but I already am familiar with the men’s voices. At night, sometimes, when they’re talking, it makes my pussy clench. I get wet from their voices alone.
I smile before I even realize I'm doing it. I get dressed quickly and head downstairs.
The smell of coffee reaches me before I reach the kitchen. Lane is standing at the counter in a fitted gray T-shirt, pouring himself a cup. His hair is still slightly messy. He looks unfairly good for a man who hasn't even had breakfast.
He glances over his shoulder. "Morning."
My stomach does that annoying little flip again. "Morning."
He looks at me for a second. Then his eyes travel briefly over my face, my hair, my clothes. Not enough to be inappropriate, just enough that I notice.
"Sleep well?"
"Very."
"Good."
He pushes another mug toward me.
I blink at it, unable to believe what I’m seeing. "You made me coffee?"
"You said you liked it black."
I pick it up. It's exactly how I like it. "Thank you."
He gives me a small nod, like remembering how I take my coffee is the most ordinary thing in the world. Maybe to him it is. To me, it's not. People don't usually remember little things about me.
Then something bumps against my ankle. I look down. One of the twins is crawling across the kitchen floor at impressive speed.
"Oh, hello." I crouch down and scoop her into my arms.
She immediately grabs my hair. "Ouch."
Lane laughs. "She likes you."
"Apparently."
The other baby crawls toward us. I reach for him too. Within seconds, I'm sitting on the kitchen floor with both babies climbing all over me while Lane drinks his coffee.
And then Rhett walks in. He's wearing dark blue scrubs. His hair is still damp from the shower. He looks at the babies.
Then at me. "Well. I see you've been attacked."
I laugh. "They're relentless."
Rhett crouches down beside us. "Come here, little monster."
He picks up the boy, who immediately grabs his stethoscope. "No."
The baby squeals.
Rhett sighs dramatically. "That's not a toy."
The baby pulls harder. Rhett looks at me. "He doesn't respect my authority."
I laugh again. "You let him play with it."
"I know."
"Then that's your fault."
His eyebrows rise. "Are you already taking their side?"
"Absolutely."
He grins. And something about seeing him like this makes my chest ache. These men are different around the babies. Softer. Patient. Completely ridiculous.
Lane takes the little girl and settles her against his chest while Rhett sits on the floor with the boy.
They talk to the babies constantly. Not baby talk. Real conversation.
"Tell Daddy what you dreamed about," Rhett says.
The baby makes a bubbling noise.
"Interesting."
Lane looks over. "What did he say?"
"He says you're annoying."
Lane snorts. "He's got good instincts."
I laugh so hard I nearly spill my coffee. And then I realize something.
I'm happy. Not the temporary kind of happy I get when I buy something I wanted or someone says something nice.
This is deeper. The kind of happiness that settles into your bones.
I've missed this. I've missed watching a family simply exist together.
I don't even realize I've spoken until Lane looks at me. "Seeing you guys like this every morning feels incredible. My dad left when I was little."
Silence.
I blink. "I don't know why I said that."
Rhett's expression softens.
I look down at the baby in my arms. "I think seeing you with them reminds me of what I missed. It's healing."
Lane's face changes. He doesn't say anything for a moment.
Then he reaches over and gently squeezes my shoulder. Just once.
It's a brief touch, but it nearly undoes me.
Later that morning, while the babies crawl around the living room, I finally ask the question that's been sitting in my mind.
"Did you always want to adopt together?"
Lane looks at Rhett. Rhett looks back at him.
There's something between them that I don't understand. Not romantic. Something else. Something deeper.
"We always knew we wanted a family," Rhett says.
"Together?"
"Yes."
I smile.
"That's beautiful."
"It is," Lane says.
He pauses. "Though people make assumptions about us."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Because you live together and adopted children together?"
"Exactly."
Rhett laughs.
"People assume we're a couple."
My eyes widen. "You're not?"
"No."
They exchange an amused glance.
"We're both attracted to women," Lane explains. "Not each other."
I can't help smiling. "You're like brothers."
"That's closer," Rhett says. "Family."
Something about that word makes me look at them differently.
"Then what happens when one of you meets someone?"
Lane's gaze settles on me. "She would have to understand that this is a package deal."
My heart skips. "What do you mean?"
"This family," Rhett says. "The children. The house. The life we've built. Anyone who comes into it would become part of it."
I stare at them.
"That sounds..." I hesitate. "Beautiful."
Neither man says anything.
I continue before I can stop myself. "Whoever you choose is going to be very lucky."
Something shifts in the room. Rhett's smile becomes smaller. Lane watches me carefully.
"Would you think she was lucky if she had to share two men?"
My breath catches.
I pretend not to understand. "I suppose it depends on the men."
Rhett laughs softly. "And if they were good to her?"
"Then she'd be very lucky."
Lane's eyes remain on mine. "Would you ever consider something like that?"
My heart pounds I could lie. I probably should.
Instead, I tell the truth. "Honestly?"
"Honestly."
I swallow. "That would be like a dream."
Silence. My face burns.
Rhett's expression becomes almost unbearably warm. "Why?"
I look down at my hands. "I've always had fantasies about being with more than one man."
The words come out quietly.
"I thought it was something I was supposed to keep to myself. I didn't even know people actually lived like that."
Lane leans back. "They do."
"Where do you even find people like that?"
Rhett smiles. "You might have found some."
Nobody says anything else.
But something has changed. Something neither of us can pretend isn't there.
And suddenly, the house feels a million degrees hotter because I know that these two want a woman to share, and I can't stop wanting to be that woman.
By the end of the afternoon, I am exhausted.
Not ordinary tired. The kind of exhaustion that settles behind my eyes and makes every sound seem louder than it should.
The twins have been fussy since they woke from their morning nap.
I still haven't figured out why. Their diapers are clean.
They've eaten. They aren't feverish, and I can't find anything physically wrong with either of them.
I've rocked them, walked them around the nursery, sung to them, changed their clothes, checked the temperature of the room, and tried every trick I've learned since I started caring for babies.
Nothing works for long.
One of them will finally quiet down, only for the other to start crying.
Then, as soon as I get the second one calm, the first starts again.
By four o'clock, the nursery looks as though a tiny hurricane has passed through it. Toys are scattered across the rug, blankets are bunched in the crib, and one of the babies has managed to pull three board books off the shelf and leave them lying open on the floor.
I sit in the rocking chair with one baby against my shoulder while the other crawls determinedly around my feet.
"Please," I whisper, closing my eyes for a second. "Just give me five minutes."
The baby against my shoulder makes a miserable little sound.
"I know."
I open my eyes and kiss the top of her head.
"I know, sweetheart. I'm trying."
She begins crying again.
Something inside me cracks.
Not because I'm angry at her. Never that.
I'm simply so tired that the sound seems to go straight through me.
I stand and start walking the length of the nursery again, gently bouncing her while watching her brother crawl after us.
"What's wrong?" I whisper. "What am I missing?"
There is no answer, of course.
Just another unhappy little cry.
I feel tears sting my eyes.
I'm supposed to know what I'm doing.
I'm supposed to be good at this.
That's why they hired me.
But right now I feel like a failure.
When I finally hear the front door open downstairs, I almost cry from relief.
A few minutes later, Rhett appears in the nursery doorway.
He's still dressed in his work clothes, his lighter hair slightly mussed from the day, his expensive watch visible beneath the cuff of his shirt. He looks tired, but the moment his eyes land on the babies, his whole expression softens.
Then he looks at me.
His smile disappears. "Rough afternoon?"
I laugh weakly. "That's one way to describe it."
He walks into the room and takes the baby from my arms with practiced ease.
"Come here, little man."
The baby immediately settles against his chest.
I stare. "Seriously?"
Rhett smiles. "Maybe he just wanted Daddy."
I let out a tired laugh and wipe beneath one eye before he can see the tear threatening to escape.
Rhett notices anyway.
His expression changes. "Hey."
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"I just..." I look toward the other baby, who is still crawling around the rug. "I don't know what they need."
Rhett shifts the baby comfortably against his shoulder.
"They're ten months old. Sometimes they don't know what they need, either."
That makes me smile. "That's reassuring."
"It's the truth."
He crouches to pick up the other baby, who reaches for him immediately.
"There. Now I have both."
"You've got a talent."
"I've been practicing."
He gives me a warm smile.
"Go downstairs. I'll handle them for a while."
I hesitate. "I can stay."
"Esme." There's no irritation in his voice. Just gentle insistence. "You've been with them all day. You deserve a break. I'm giving it to you as your employer."