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“What does that mean?”
Hardin is the one to answer. “That means that we have sex with Rosalind, but not with each other.”
My eyes close.Oh, sweet baby kittens. He did not just say that to my mother.
“You did not just say that,” Gideon growls at him, all rumbly and protective. “Don’t be such an asshole, Yorke.”
I feel Hardin shrug as his fingers drift over the skin of my neck. “What? It's what she wanted to know.”
I can’t. I can’t do this. It's too much. Everything is too much. My hand drifts up until I’m rubbing at the scar between my breasts, hidden under my dress, but still there. My chest feels tight and I can’t get a full breath.
“Breathe, baby,” Fielder murmurs, leaning into my side, his lips against my temple. “Just breathe. You got this. We got you.”
Hardin leans in on my other side. “Tell me five things, love. Five things. What do you smell?”
I take a deep breathe and do as he says. “I smell you both. Leather and smoke and spice and lavender and ocean breeze. I hear the sounds of the other diners. I feel your hands on me.” my eyes open and focus on the first thing I see. “I see my mother glaring at me.” My chest goes tight again.
“No, no, love. Don’t focus on her. What else do you see?”
My gaze darts to Ezra, watching me with an encouraging smile. “I see Ez. I see…” I trail off. I don’t want to say that. Love. I see love in his gaze as he watches me. I can’t finish that sentence. And that realization doesn’t really help with my anxiety attack, so I drag my gaze away from him, just as our server drops a basket of complimentary bread on the table. “I see focaccia.” I say, reaching for a slice and popping it in my mouth. “I taste yeast and rosemary and salt.”
“Better, baby?” Fielder asks, still pressed against me.
I nod. “Yes, thank you.”
They both pull away from me and turn stony gazes on my mother. Apparently, they’d expected her to react better than she is. In fact, the only one of them that doesn’t seem surprised is Gideon, but then he’d witnessed the aftermath of one of my fights with her not too long ago. So maybe he has a better understanding of our relationship than they do.
My mother is watching us, a shrewd look in her eyes, even as her face flames. She views herself as something of a socialite, flitting from one party to another, being tied to wealthy bachelor after wealthy bachelor, and I can tell she thinks this is going to hurt her.
When she’d thought I was just dating Fielder, heir to a billionaire, she couldn’t be more proud, but me being with four men, even if they are as rich as Midas? Well, that is unacceptable.
“Really, Rosalind. You want to flaunt your wantonness in public?” She hisses at me. And all of the men around us stiffen. “People are watching you.Us.People are watching us.”
“You might want to watch your tone when you speak to our girl,” Hardin’s voice is almost lazy, but I know he’s coiled tight and ready to spring. I squeeze his thigh in warning.
“How I speak to my daughter is none of your concern,” my mother sniffs.
“Actually,” Gideon says, leaning forward just slightly. “It is our concern. We care about Rosalind. We want to see her safe and happy, and that anxiety attack she just had is more than enough for us to know that your reaction to our relationship is hurting her.”
“Gideon,” I murmur, drawing his gaze over to me. I shake my head at him, and his jaw hardens as he turns his gray eyes back to my mother.
My mother will not be deterred from voicing her displeasure. “The four of you can’t be happy with this situation. Not truly. Sharing a woman? And when that woman is-” She cuts off like she’d been about to say something she shouldn’t, and all of them lean forward, while I lean back.
I can think of a thousand ways she could have ended that sentence. ‘And when that woman is such a disappointment’ ‘when that woman is as much trouble as she is’ ‘when that woman is as unlovable as Rosalind’ any of those would likely have filled in her blank well enough.
“Oh, do go on,” Hardin sneers. My mother drops her eyes down to the table and he turns his bright blue eyes at me. “I can’t believe this is your mother, love. Really.”
I shrug, not meeting any of their eyes. “If it were up to me, I would have put off this meeting indefinitely. But you guys took the choice out of my hands, so here we are.”
There’s a censure in my voice that I know they all pick up on. I should have been able to choose when this discussion happened with my family. I should have been the one to ask them to meet her and vice versa. But they’d made the decision for me. Like they do so often.
Fielder’s grip tightens on my thigh, while Ezra turns his whiskey gold gaze back to my mother. “To answer your question, no, we don’t mind sharing. In fact, we pursued her, knowing that each of us wanted her. We didn’t give her the option of choosing between us.”
My mothers lips tighten even more. “So you were looking for your own personal whore you can pass around between all four of you.”
Surprised tears prick my eyes, while all four of them shove to their feet, anger radiating from all of them. I suppose I should be thankful that one of them hasn’t hexed her yet. My mother and I stay seated, glaring at each other across the table.
“I understand why you’re angry at me,” I say softly. “I understand that it was hard for you to see what my being sick did to Dad. I understand that you lost him at the same time that I did, and that you loved him so much that that loss broke you. I understand that it's hard for you to look at me because I look like him. And I know you resent that you had to take care of me and pay my hospital bills and keep going when all you wanted to do was fall apart. I understand all of that, Mom, I really do. What I don’t understand is why you can only hate me. I’m your daughter too. Not just his. Why can’t you summon up even the smallest hint of love for me? Why is that hard? You love Desi. I know you do. Why can’t you love me too?”
