Page 14 of Double XL Mountain Men (Cold Mountain Nights #11)
Cindy
I gaze around with excitement at the crowd at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn. The indoor arena is enormous, with a shiny court in the middle that they’ve re-purposed for the draft. The air is thick with chatter and bright lights gleam overhead, reflecting off the polished floor.
But it’s the guests that really make my day because everyone’s who’s anyone is here, chattering with anticipation.
There are friends, families, and significant others talking animatedly, and we’re dressed to the nines in tuxes, suits, and elegant cocktail numbers.
A few women are even in floor length gowns, and I love the contrast between the elaborate beading and feathers, versus the hard, concrete floors of the seating area and exposed steel beams of the arena.
After all, the Barclays Center is a multi-purpose venue, and the home of the Brooklyn Nets as well as the New York Liberty. But the NFL has taken over for today’s event, and there are multiple strapping, athletic young men present, surrounded by clusters of well-wishers.
“How are you enjoying yourself, Cindy?” a beautiful blonde asks.
“Are you having a good time?” Misty Earnshaw is technically my lovers’ stepmother, although she’s probably only a few years older than Brandon and Brent.
Misty met Barrett, the twins’ father, when Barrett and his friend Cross decided to take over the cabin for a month and fuck a slew of young women.
Yes, it’s true. Billionaires actually indulge in such depraved activities, but it worked out because Barrett and Cross met Misty, and fell head over heels in love with the young woman.
Now, she’s bouncing a one-year-old tot in her arms, who’s absolutely adorable with his family’s trademark black hair and startlingly blue eyes.
Sylvester (or Little Silly, as his family likes to call him) is a winsome child who currently has four fingers of one chubby hand stuffed into his mouth.
“Thanks for asking because yes, I’m really excited to be here,” I say with a responding smile.
“I mean, the twins and I thought the worst was going to happen. We genuinely believed that we were facing catastrophe, but things changed on a dime,” I murmur, still astonished at how things turned out.
“It’s crazy how an entire nation can morph overnight. ”
Misty nods thoughtfully, bouncing Sylvester in her arms.
“You mean the end of D.E.I., right?”
I nod.
“I do. I mean, don’t get me wrong because I absolutely support Title IX and diversity, equity, and inclusion, but not when it’s applied without any regard to the complexity of individual situations.
You know that Brent and Brandon were about to be expelled from Western, right? For sexual harassment.”
Misty’s delicate features go serious.
“Yes, their father told me. So what happened?”
I shake my head, still astonished at the abrupt turn in events.
“Well basically, President Trump took office, and everything flip-flopped overnight. Don’t get me wrong because I’m not sure that I agree with everything the president’s done.
There’s been chaos in a lot of sectors, but one thing that helped us is that universities have reconsidered, and in some cases, completely re-vamped their DEI programs. Western was one of the schools.
They were threatened by federal funding cuts, and as result, they reorganized their former old Diversity and Inclusion office to become the Office of Community and Campus Life. ”
Misty cocks her head, her expression askance.
“Yes, but did that actually change things?” she asks, one brow raised. “I mean, the two sound awfully similar.”
I nod in acknowledgment.
“Yes, they do sound similar,” I say. “But I think there are some changes that really will make a difference because the university’s now working on bringing people together based on their backgrounds and perspectives, as opposed to the broad demographic groups that they belong to.”
“Okay,” Misty says thoughtfully. “So maybe focusing on the concept of plurality, and getting along, as opposed to where you’re from and what you look like.”
“Yes, exactly,” I say immediately. “In fact, I hear that “pluralism” is the new buzzword within education circles, although you never know how long these things will stick. Give it a couple years, and it could be a whole new set of trendy lingo. But yes, my understanding is that a lot of schools are now pivoting to pluralism, which is a model that aims to help students live and learn together—making everyone feel welcome, while also helping students navigate the conflicts that inevitably arise in a community where people have different world views.”
Misty nods seriously, bobbling the baby in her arms.
“Okay, you’re a little over my head because I never finished college,” she says with an apologetic smile.
“I got pregnant with this little guy,” she remarks, indicating Sylvester with a smile, “and my life did a one eighty with hardly any time for current events, or following the news cycle. But the change was a good one eighty,” she clarifies.
“I would never give up my life now for what I thought I wanted long ago.”
I nod, as I bite my bottom lip.
“I totally know how you feel. I love being with two men, and Brent and Brandon have made my dreams come true. It’s so embarrassing to admit, but the two men complete me. I had no idea I was even missing anything until I met the twins.”
Misty nods, her expression slightly naughty.
“And let me guess,” she hums. “You’re pregnant now?”
I gasp while one hand involuntarily slides over my tummy.
“Oh my god, how did you know?”
Misty smiles mysteriously, her blue eyes playful.
“I could sense it,” she says. “Call it a mother’s intuition. But actually, I’m pregnant again too, so I guess our babies will be cousins! Or maybe uncle and nephew? Or aunt and niece? I don’t know because the family ties are so complicated!” she laughs.
“Totally,” I giggle in return. “But it’s okay, because it’s the loving relationships that matter most, and not the particular specifics of each tie.
But Misty, it means a lot to me that you’re here because you, Barrett, and Cross are a model for us.
I was a little terrified or revealing our menage to the world, but I love that you, Barrett and Cross are totally public about it. ”
The beautiful blonde nods thoughtfully.
“I know what you’re saying. I was a little freaked at first too about what people would say when they found out I was with two men, and that I was having a baby with them.
But the truth is that no one cares,” she quips.
“I think sometimes, we get so worried about the nitty gritty that you forget that we’re mere droplets in the pond.
Not even droplets. Just dust, that will ultimately evaporate and disappear. ”
“OMG, you’re so right,” I say in a serious tone.
“There’s so much going on in the world, and as long as my baby has parents who love him, why would it matter if he has two parents or three?
But seriously, you, Cross and Barrett are an inspiration because of your commitment to your relationship.
You’re a model of a happy family, and that’s what the twins and I want too.
Plus, I want more babies after this one is born,” I confide with a secret smile.
“I want an entire football team, if Brandon and Brent will let me have my way.”
Misty giggles, but then her eyes go wide.
“I’m sure they’d love to have a football team of cute babies. But speak of the devil...” she murmurs.
Within seconds, I feel big hands slide around my waist as Brandon comes up behind me to drop a kiss onto my bare shoulder.
Brent presses a kiss to my lips next, and my heart soars because it’s obvious that I’m in a relationship with both men.
Even better, my boyfriends want to shout our love from the rooftops, and have no qualms about doing so on one of the most important days in their lives.
Yet as Misty said, I don’t think anyone notices.
The other players and their families are buzzing with excitement while waiting for the draft to begin, and everyone’s caught up in their own drama.
“You two look handsome,” I murmur while sliding my arms around the Brandon’s neck. “These blue suits really bring out the color of your eyes.”
It’s true too. Brandon and Brent are dressed to the nines and are clad in custom suits that highlight their broad shoulders, wide chests, and thick, tree-trunk thighs.
Cream-colored shirts set off their bronzed skin, and their features are devastatingly masculine, with square jaws and chiseled cheekbones.
A flood of warmth surges between my thighs because how did I get so lucky?
Some women don’t even get one gorgeous man to love, and yet I have two.
But this is no time for daydreaming because my boyfriends are tense yet relaxed at once, eager to see how their futures will play out.
“You have nothing to worry about,” I soothe while stroking Brent’s big arm. “The draft is going to be fine.”
“More than fine,” the handsome man rasps, eyes flashing. “Thank god that bitch Susan Carroll was fired after DEI imploded because now, we’re going to get our degrees. Plus, the prospect of expulsion, which was really fucking lame, has been eliminated.”
“Yes, and Dean Carroll deserved to be fired,” I acknowledge in a low, trembling voice.
“Because she couldn’t listen. That woman was dead set on painting me as a victim, no matter how many times I told her that I wanted to be with two men.
There was absolutely no coercion when it came to the leash and collar, and if anything, I craved our debauched play.
But she didn’t care,” I say, my voice still shaky with outrage.
“She could only see what she wanted to see.”