23. Custody Arrangements
Chapter 23
Custody Arrangements
Tessa
I woke up to the gentle rise and fall of two very male chests, one pressed against my back and another serving as my personal pillow. For a moment, I contemplated how exactly my life had taken such an unexpected turn. A few months ago, I’d been planning a wedding to one man. Now I was waking up between two, with a third presumably somewhere in the cabin.
The universe really did have a sense of humor.
Archer’s arm was draped possessively across my waist, while my head rested on Liam’s chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm against my ear. My body felt deliciously sore in ways that made last night’s memories flash through my mind like a very adult highlight reel.
This situation was completely insane. Three men? At once? What would my mother say?
Actually, my mother must never find out about this. But then… what if? What if this wasn’t a fling and all four of us had a for-real relationship?
I slid out from between Archer and Liam with the stealth of a ninja, or at least someone trying really hard not to wake two incredibly attractive, incredibly naked men. The sound of another muttered curse and what might have been a pan hitting the floor had me hurrying to throw on some clothes.
I grabbed the first shirt I found which turned out to be one of Archer’s button-downs that practically reached my knees and pulled out a clean pair of underwear and leggings from my bag.
“Son of a—” Evan’s voice carried from the kitchen, followed by more clanging. I was surprised Liam and Archer were sleeping through the noise, but my guess was they were used to noise from Evan by now.
I eased the bedroom door shut behind me and padded barefoot across the wooden floor, following the sounds of culinary destruction. The sight that greeted me was both adorable and slightly concerning. Evan stood in front of the stove, a spatula in one hand and what looked like flour in his hair.
“Please tell me you’re not trying to poison us all.” I tried not to laugh as he whirled around, nearly dropping the spatula.
“I was going for a romantic breakfast in bed, but the pancakes are staging a rebellion.” He gestured to what I assumed was supposed to be a pancake but looked more like abstract art stuck to the pan.
“Ah, a classic case of a too-hot pan and not enough butter.” I moved beside him, taking the spatula. “Here, let me help before you burn down the cabin.”
“My hero.” He pressed a kiss to my temple, and I tried to ignore how such a simple gesture made my heart flutter.
I turned down the heat and scraped the pancake out of the pan, replacing it with a pat of butter. While it melted, I turned to grab the bowl of batter from the island and gasped at the view out of the windows.
Snow had piled up almost to the bottom of the windowsills, creating a wall of white that seemed to go on forever. It was almost blinding to look at.
“Holy shit, that’s a lot of snow.”
“Yeah, the storm really picked up overnight.” Evan seemed unfazed as he opened a package of sausage links and added them to a pan. “We weren’t paying attention because of how... distracted we were.”
My cheeks heated up as memories from last night flooded back. “How are we supposed to get to the resort?”
“The snowmobiles aren’t buried, but we’ll have to dig a ramp to get them on top of the snow.” He pointed at a side window where they’d parked them the night before under an awning.
“Living in a place where it snows is going to take some getting used to.” I wasn’t even sure if I would be able to drive if there was any amount of snow on the road, especially after my first day getting stuck in a snowbank on the side of the road.
“It’s really not that bad. Plus, you have three strapping young men to help you adjust.” His arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and he rested his chin on my shoulder as I ladled pancake batter onto the griddle.
“Young is a bit of an exaggeration.” I giggled when he playfully bit my neck. “So you’ll drive into town and pick me up when it snows?”
“Why don’t you stay here? I could get used to how incredibly sexy you look making breakfast in our kitchen.”
I watched the pancakes bubble on the griddle, Evan’s arms still wrapped around me, and I tried to imagine what it would be like to wake up like this every day. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. Exhilarating because, well, three incredibly attractive men were all interested in me. Terrifying because... well, three incredibly attractive men were all interested in me.
“Stay here?” I flipped the pancakes and looked back at him. “As in, move into this cabin with the three of you?”
Evan shrugged, his chin still resting on my shoulder. “Why not? You’ve already seen us at our worst. And our best.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“This is all happening so fast. I came here to reset after getting away from one man, not to shack up with three.” I fiddled with the spatula, scraping a bit of rogue batter off the edge while my mind raced through the whirlwind of the past few days.
A few weeks ago, I’d been stress-eating discount Christmas chocolate, convinced I’d die alone with seventeen cats. Now here I was, standing in a cozy cabin kitchen wearing a borrowed shirt, making breakfast with a gorgeous man wrapped around me while two more slept down the hall. Talk about overcorrecting.
“Is that what we’re doing? Shacking up?” Liam’s voice came from behind us, and I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest. His hair was adorably mussed from sleep, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants.
My cheeks flushed for what had to be the hundredth time since I’d arrived at Sterling Pines. My face had basically become a permanent shade of pink. “I don’t know what we’re doing, to be honest. But I do know that moving in here with the three of you seems... rushed.” The word felt inadequate. What was the appropriate timeline for going from single to living with three men, anyway?
Liam pushed off the doorframe and walked over to the stove, grabbing the tongs I’d just used to turn the sausage links. “You’re probably right. We did skip about a dozen steps in a normal relationship.”
“A dozen steps and then some.” I scooted over to make room for Liam at the stove and started a new batch of pancakes. “I think we need to slow down. We didn’t even discuss this. You can’t spring something like this on a girl over breakfast.”
Evan deflated with a long breath, releasing me from his hold and leaning back against the counter. The loss of his warmth made me immediately regret being so practical, but I knew I had to be. My heart was on the line, and with three men who could potentially destroy it, I had to be careful.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Tess. I got ahead of myself.” Evan’s expression reminded me of a golden retriever who’d been told ‘no’ to a game of fetch.
I offered him a small smile, fighting the urge to take back everything I’d said. Being sensible was seriously overrated sometimes. “It’s okay. I think we need to take a step back and figure out what this is before we jump into anything more serious.” I gestured vaguely between us with my spatula.
“And besides, you’d probably want to kill all three of us if you moved in here.” Liam put the tongs down and went to the refrigerator to grab the cut-up fruit I’d brought. “Plus, one bathroom with four adults is insane. Three is already hard enough.”
I laughed, the tension in the room dissipating. The idea of sharing the small bathroom with the three of them was something out of a nightmare. It was clean at the moment, but I had to wonder if it was because they knew I would be staying with them.
“Maybe you can stay here sometimes, and we can stay at your place too. Or we can take turns? I should Google how other people make this work.” Evan grabbed his phone from the counter, but Liam plucked it from his hands.
“We’re not other people. We’ll figure it all out as we go.” Liam turned off the sausage and grabbed a plate.
I nearly dropped the spatula when Archer appeared in nothing but a pair of perfectly fitted jeans, his hair still rumpled from sleep. How was it possible that all three of them looked like they’d stepped off a romance novel cover? It should be illegal to look that good first thing in the morning.
“Is that my shirt?” Archer’s voice was still rough from sleep as his eyes traveled down my body, lingering on my breasts. The heat in his gaze made me forget about the pancakes for a moment.
“Finders keepers?” I forced myself to focus on not burning breakfast instead of how his abs seemed to be crafted by Renaissance artists.
“It looks better on you anyway.” He moved past me to the coffee maker, his hand ghosting across my lower back in a way that made me shiver. “Speaking of figuring things out, I already have a document drawn up outlining how this arrangement would work.”
I whirled around so fast I almost hit Liam with the spatula, sending a few pancake batter droplets flying across the counter. “You what?” Of course he had a document.
Evan choked on the piece of fruit he’d been eating, coughing and sputtering while Liam pounded him on the back. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or genuinely choking, but his face had turned an impressive shade of red. Liam stared at Archer with his mouth hanging open, looking like someone had told him he could no longer snowboard.
“It includes schedules, sleeping arrangements, and conflict resolution procedures.” Archer poured his coffee with the same casual air someone might use to discuss the weather, not a detailed blueprint for our potential polyamorous relationship. The steam curled up from his mug, and I had to wonder when he’d drafted this document.
“I think we need to consider a ménage à trois instead.” Evan finally managed to speak.
A small smirk played at the corners of Archer’s mouth. “You’re all so gullible. You should see your faces.”
“You ass!” I grabbed a blueberry from the fruit bowl and threw it at him. He caught it and popped it into his mouth with infuriating grace. “I believed you for a second.”
Evan punched Archer in the arm. “I was already planning arguments against whatever custody arrangement you’d come up with for Tessa.”
“Custody arrangement?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“That does give me some ideas for a schedule...” Archer ducked as I threw another blueberry at him.
“No schedules, no documents, no custody arrangements.” I returned my attention to the stove and put the last of the pancakes on a serving plate. “Now let’s sit down and eat before the food gets cold.”
We crowded around the small kitchen table, our knees bumping underneath. It should have been awkward, but it felt like we’d been doing this for a long time.
I had no idea how this would work long-term or if it even could. There were a million potential complications and probably twice as many ways it could all go wrong. But sitting there, wearing Archer’s shirt, eating breakfast with three men who looked at me like I was something precious, I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of that.
After breakfast, we all bundled up to face the winter wonderland outside. And by “bundled up,” I meant that I put on approximately seventeen layers while the guys threw on their jackets like the cold-immune mountain men they had apparently become.
Evan surveyed the pristine snowscape with a confidence that made ridiculous things sound totally reasonable. “It’s only three and a half feet of snow. We just need to build a ramp to get the snowmobiles up onto it.” He said this like he was suggesting we grab coffee, not construct an actual vehicle launch pad out of frozen water.
I stared at the wall of white before us, unimpressed. My nose was already going numb despite being buried in a scarf. “Only three and a half feet? That’s taller than some children!”
Liam leaned against the cabin’s covered porch, his ankle propped up as if to remind us all of his so-called injury. “Don’t worry. I’d help, but you know...” He gestured vaguely toward his foot, which had somehow healed enough for other activities over the past three days.
A snowball cut through the air with deadly accuracy, hitting Liam square in the chest with a satisfying thump. His mouth dropped open in betrayal as bits of snow crumbled down his coat.
Archer barely concealed his smirk, and I caught the mischievous glint in his eyes that made him not even look like himself. “Funny how that ankle didn’t seem to bother you last night when you were?—”
“Okay!” My cheeks burned despite the cold, and I threw my hands up like an overzealous crossing guard before Archer could finish that thought. “Let’s focus on the task at hand. How exactly does one build a snow ramp?” I genuinely wanted to know but also needed to change the subject before my face caught fire and melted all three feet of snow around us.
Evan was already shoveling. “First, we need to clear a path from under the awning. So, grab a shovel, Tessa.” He paused mid-motion, glancing at Liam. “Unless someone’s ankle is feeling better enough to help?”
Liam sighed dramatically before grabbing a shovel. “Fine. But if I re-injure myself, I’m holding you all personally responsible.” He moved with suspiciously perfect mobility, joining the effort.
We worked together—though “together” might be a stretch, considering how much snow ended up flying at each other rather than onto the growing ramp. I was trying to pack down a section when a well-aimed snowball from Archer smacked me in the back of the head.
“Oh, it’s on.” I abandoned my ramp-packing duties with zero regret, scooping up what I deemed the perfect handful of snow while slipping into MLB pitcher mode. But my supposedly perfect aim betrayed me, and the snowball curved, missing Archer completely and smacking Evan right in the ear. So much for my brief career as a snow sniper.
“Friendly fire!” Evan yelped, his mock outrage accompanied by the most devious grin I’d seen since my cousin crashed my tenth birthday party with a super soaker. Before I could apologize or defend myself, he’d somehow gotten behind me and shoved a handful of snow down the back of my jacket. The ice-cold shock sent me into an impromptu dance routine that would’ve gone viral on TikTok.
I shrieked, doing my best impression of a coffee-fueled jumping bean as I twisted and shook to dislodge the rapidly melting snow. “That’s cheating!” The freezing trickle down my spine made me regret at least three of my seventeen layers, which were now doing an excellent job of trapping the melting snow against my skin.
Liam grinned, already gathering more snow. “All’s fair in love and snowball fights.” Without hesitation, he pelted both Evan and Archer with rapid-fire snow projectiles.
Forty-five minutes and one full-scale snow war later, we finally had something resembling a ramp.
Archer brushed snow off his gloves with a thoroughness that was so unnecessary it made me wonder if he was stalling. “Tessa can ride with me.” He fished his keys from his pocket.
Evan’s face contorted into an expression of pure theatrical offense, as if Archer had suggested we swap the snow for pink glitter—although he’d probably really like that. “I don’t think so.”
I fought the urge to point out that I was standing right there, perfectly capable of making my own decisions about whose waist I’d be clinging to for the whole two minutes it would take to get to the resort.
“You rode with her last night.” Liam crossed his arms over his chest, his puffy winter coat making the gesture look more marshmallow than menacing. The way they were discussing my seating arrangements reminded me of my sister and me arguing over who got the front seat on the way to school.
Archer looked supremely unimpressed. “I believe I have seniority here.” The slight quirk at the corner of his mouth suggested he knew exactly how ridiculous this conversation was becoming.
“We could race for it.” Liam’s eyes suddenly lit up in a way that usually preceded someone saying, “Hold my beer.”
“Absolutely not.” Archer and I spoke in perfect sync, our shared horror creating an impromptu duet. The last thing we needed was a competitive snow sprint ending with someone wrapped around a tree.
Evan tapped his chin thoughtfully, his gloved finger leaving little dots of snow on his face. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
I watched in disbelief as three grown men engaged in an intense round of rock, paper, scissors. Evan emerged victorious, paper covering both Archer’s and Liam’s rocks.
Liam frowned at his hand like it had betrayed him. “That’s statistically improbable to win the first two out of three.”
“Don’t be a sore loser. It’s improbable but not impossible.” Evan, looking far too pleased with himself, handed me a helmet. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”
Securing the helmet, I climbed onto the back of Evan’s snowmobile, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Try not to crash.”
His smirk was audible in his voice. “No promises.” The engine roared to life beneath us, the vibrations rumbling through my entire body. “Hold on tight.”
A few minutes later, we walked into the resort. The very last person I wanted to see as soon as we entered the lobby was Declan. What made it infinitely worse was that Liam and Evan were both holding my hands, and Declan zeroed right in on that.
I watched in dismay as Declan stood up, smoothing his pressed slacks. Even now, he looked like he’d stepped out of a Brooks Brothers catalog.
“Tessa, can we talk? Privately?” His eyes darted meaningfully to where Liam and Evan’s hands were still linked with mine.
I suppressed a groan. “Two minutes. I have lunch service and dinner prep to handle.”
Liam squeezed my hand before letting go, while Archer shot Declan a look that could have melted steel. I followed my ex-fiancé to the restaurant’s bar, settling onto a stool and crossing my arms.
“What were you thinking, showing up here?” I asked before he could start whatever speech he’d probably prepared.
“I miss you.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled it back. “This whole thing has been a mistake. I’ve been thinking?—”
“That’s your problem, Declan. You’re always thinking, always planning, always trying to control everything.” I shook my head. “And for what? So you can have the perfect life that fits into your perfect vision?”
“I want what’s best for you.” His brow furrowed in a way that meant he was about to launch into one of his logical arguments.
“Well, guess what? I’m moving here. I’m running this restaurant, and someday I’ll open my own place.” I watched his face contort in horror, and it was honestly a little satisfying.
“You can’t be serious.” He looked like I’d told him I was joining the circus. “Why would you want to be a chef in a restaurant? The hours are terrible, the work is exhausting, and the profit margins?—”
I cut him off, jabbing a finger in his direction. “This right here is exactly why we would have never worked long-term. You only see money and a misguided sense of prestige. I see passion, creativity, and joy.”
His chin lifted, ridged with restraint. “And what about those three men you walked in with? Is that part of your new creative lifestyle?”
“That’s absolutely none of your business.” I straightened my spine, gathering every ounce of dignity I could muster.
“Really? Because I overheard that Archer guy having quite the explicit phone conversation with someone named Peggy last night, and I have to say?—”
I burst out laughing. The guys had told me in between rounds the night before about Archer’s fake phone sex conversation to drive Declan away from the restaurant.
“What’s so amusing?” He looked genuinely confused, which only made me laugh harder.
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop giggling as I slid off the barstool. “But my two minutes are up, and I have a kitchen to run.” I started walking away and then turned back. “Oh, and Declan? You should really look into getting pegged. It might loosen you up a bit.”
I left him sitting there, looking completely flabbergasted, and headed toward the kitchen. My cheeks hurt from grinning, but I couldn’t help it. The Tessa who had been with Declan would have agonized over this confrontation for weeks. This new Tessa? She had three gorgeous men, a kitchen to run, and absolutely zero regrets about any of it.
Well, maybe one small regret that I hadn’t been there to see Archer’s performance with “Peggy” firsthand.