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During that portion of our sex life, one of the guys — the one who got me pregnant the first time around — would be relegated to… well, other stuff. But whoever it was, I had plans to make that stuff fun for him.Veryfun.
“Let’s not go down this road tonight,” I stepped in. “After all, the results come in next week. We’ll plan it from there.”
Elliot, who’d only smiled while the others argued, nodded my way. “Sounds sensible.”
“Not that I’m usually sensible,” I joked. “Trust me, I don’t want to be the sensible one.”
“Someone has to,” Elliot pointed out. “And I’ve beendelegatinglately. Letting go, if you will.”
We shared another smile, as I, more than anyone, knew exactly how far he’d come. Elliot had gone from being a total control freak to only a part-time control freak. And over the past year, he’d learned to divert most of his focus to the things he actually enjoyed.
“You make anything today?” he asked me, as the others continued their bickering.
“Only a mess,” I laughed. “But it was a very pretty mess.”
“I’ll bet it was.”
“And next time, maybe it’ll be something that comes out of the furnace in one piece. Something not just good or adequate, but something specular.”
“Spectacular enough for the glass museum?”
I sighed, just thinking of how far I’d come. “You never know.”
Thanks to my little playground at the back end of the mansion, I’d taken my glassblowing to the next level. For one, I could practice alotmore often. Up until my third trimester, I’d pushed my own boundaries, learning techniques I’d been too reluctant to try while atShatter. I’d even been jokingly accused by Dante of stealing a few of his best people away, having brought them to the mansion to assist me in bigger projects, as well as to do their own thing in a new and different environment.
I still taught classes, to make it up to him. I hadn’t been there since Mason was born, but I planned on going back very soon.
Elliot had even talked about bringing in some of the big names in the industry, and paying them for private lessons. It was one of his birthday gifts to me, halfway through our pregnancy: a future rock-star glassblowing artist, flown in from wherever to teach me at the mansion for a week.
I couldn’t wait to take him up on that.
In the meantime I had Aiden, who surprisingly enough had become a proficient beginner and an expert assistant. I enjoyed our times in the shop most of all, not just because I got to see his hard body drenched in sweat, but because the camaraderie of creating beautiful things with our own hands brought us even closer together.
On that front, the four of us were about as close as we could possibly get. We lived together, ate together, even worked together, because the guys began showing me the ropes when it came to what they did. In time I was even assistingthem, on everything from coordinating work crews to filing blueprints for future projects. Connor and Aiden got back to planning and design, and Elliot got back a big chunk of his life now that he didn’t have to travel halfway around the world every other week. Some of it spent monitoring the company’s investments and securing future capital alongside Connor. But the other part…
The other part he spent with Mason.
It warmed my heart watching each of them with the baby, but Elliot had been especially adorable. The birth of his child had softened him in ways that smoothed his rough edges, without taking away his drive to succeed or his killer business instinct. Mason made him even more perfect, as he did all of us. And of course, having a baby bound us together in all new ways that could never, ever be undone.
You’d never be undone anyway,the little voice in my head reminded me.Not anymore.
I scanned my three gorgeous lovers, who were now calling themselves my boyfriends. Even that term seemed wrong. It didn’t seem nearly strong enough.
This is your family now.
I suspected before long I’d be a fiancé, and eventually a wife. We’d findsomeoneto marry us, however we arranged it. Elliot even mentioned a few times in passing that he had some ideas in mind.
Wife…
I would feel absolutely amazing to be their shared wife. I would wear the title proudly, adding it to my many others. Those of friend, lover, mother…
But titles were like trophies, or marathon medals, or the framed photos of the things I’d done. Yes, they marked success. Victory. Achievement. But by themselves, they were still meaningless.
And that’s because the only thing that truly mattered was family.
I sighed happily, contentedly, and looked down at my hand. My wine glass was woefully empty.
“You boys ready to pamper me yet?” I asked, uncrossing my legs. “Or do I need to pour another glass of wine?”
