Page 26 of Right Side of Paradise

Soul Ties

“Harley.”

Soul’s soft-spoken tenor broke me out of the flow state I’d been in.

I looked away from my laptop screen, my eyes fighting to adjust to the absence of the sun and the combination of moonlight and candlelight bathing the patio.

How long had I been working that I didn’t notice it’d gotten dark? And who lit the candle?

Soul came to a stop beside me, his left hand covered in an oven mitt as he held out a sheet pan for my inspection.

“Hey, lover,” I greeted with a smile. I didn’t know he was here. Before I came outside to work on polishing the last of my Juneteenth posts, Rico had been the only other person home.

Soul’s cheeks climbed in answer to his pet name before he bit down on his lip and lifted a skeptical brow.

“Be honest, do these look done?”

Closing my laptop, I uncrossed my legs and craned my neck, peering up at the pan.

There were five very distinct blobs laid out, but if someone held a gun to my head and asked me what they were, I’d be out of here.

“What are these supposed to be?” I asked carefully.

With that, Soul groaned, pitching the contents over the patio railing. They fell to the sand with a distinct plop .

“Soul.” I couldn’t contain my giggle. “That was dramatic. I just wanted to know what it was.”

His frown looked out of place when he let out a heavy breath and sat down beside me on the lounger. It was just wide enough for both of us.

When his thigh brushed mine, I glanced down at where our skin collided and smirked at the running shorts he had on. The inseam couldn’t have been longer than four inches and his quads were eating them up. And honestly, if I had it my way, all men’s shorts would be this tiny.

Soul was slimmer than Rico and Christian, but he was still athletic. And so fucking fine it made me panic sometimes. I understood why Rico couldn’t keep his hands off him.

I didn’t have favorites when it came to the three of them, but I wouldn’t say no to watching Soul’s sculpted frame all day, every day.

And I didn’t care if I sounded thirsty because I’d been home for eighteen days and this man still hadn’t been inside of me.

My tongue wet my bottom lip as I set my computer aside and eyed his now empty pan. “Are you going to tell me what those were?”

“I’m trying to make Rico a dessert I found online. For his birthday. I have ten days to get it right and that was my second batch.”

“What happened to the first one?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

I fought my laugh, but my shaking shoulders still told on me.

“Soul, I promise you, Rico isn’t expecting you to bake him anything.” We had no less than five bakeries scattered around the island for that.

“I know and that’s why I want to do it.”

Soul’s hand glided over my thigh until he reached the hem of my denim shorts. He moved his hand mindlessly, so used to touching me that he didn’t realize how much I craved his touch and didn’t want him to stop.

Then he pulled his hand away and stood up without warning. “Come inside and help me?”

Chills skated over my skin at the needy inflection of his words, and I imagined him begging for something else.

Shaking the thought away, I got up to follow him back into the house.

My period had come the day after Juneteenth and ever since it stopped, I’d been on one .

I fell asleep with Christian still inside of me last night.

Just for me to roll over in the middle of the night and let Rico put me back to sleep with deep strokes from the side.

I came hard but quietly, my moans dying on the palm he had fastened over my mouth.

And now? Now I needed Soul.

I was unhinged. Insatiable. The more I got it, the more I wanted it.

Still attempting to keep those thoughts at bay, I watched Soul jump off the patio and retrieve the now sandy remains of the cookies he’d ruined. “Birds don’t deserve that,” he explained when I caught his eye.

Laughing, I followed him inside the house and into the kitchen, moving close to study the picture he was showing me on his phone.

Birthday brownie sugar cookies.

“Ooh, these look good.”

“You think I can make them?”

“Umm…”

“Harley.”

I slid in the tight space between him and the counter, beaming up at him when he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Soul.”

He lowered his head to look at me, his lips quirking when I circled my arms around his waist.

“I’ll help you.”

“Thank you, Harley baby.” Soul kissed the top of my head and turned around to regather the ingredients.

July was our birthday month.

Rico’s was the tenth, Christian’s was on the eleventh and mine was the eighteenth. Soul’s closed out the month on the thirty-first.

I wasn’t Betty Crocker but between the two of us, we had to come up with something edible by the time the month was over.

“Can you tell me what else is on your list?”

Soul looked at me after closing the oven.

“My list?”

“Aside from sex, what do you want?”

He stared at me thoughtfully, closing the distance between us in the kitchen. I was sitting on the island, and he came to fill the space between my legs like he’d done so many times before.

The bikini strings hanging from either side of my shorts found themselves trapped between his fingers while he gazed at me, love and longing and truth shining in his eyes.

“Why?” This summer was about fun. Not my unrealistic expectations for a man. Besides, I was starting to believe there wasn’t one man for me. But maybe three…

“Because I want to know if I have a chance. I’m not saying I can meet every standard you have. That would be a stretch. But between the three of us, I think we could make you happy. Not just sexually, holistically. Even after this summer is over.”

Between the three of us.

“Soul…”

He kissed the corner of my mouth and whispered, “Please just think about it.”

“You want me to be with all three of you?”

“Why not? People already think we’re together anyway.”

“But it’s?—”

“Unconventional.” His lips hovered over the hollow of my throat. “I know, but just because it isn’t common doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.”

He kept his lips there, his tongue caressing my warm skin until I had to pull away to remember what we were talking about.

“You would be open to that? Sharing me for longer than the summer?” I tried to keep the hope out of my voice, but I was pretty sure I just squeaked.

“ Loving you for longer than the summer.” He gave my hair loving strokes, the softness of his touch giving me the space to consider what he said.

We hadn’t even had sex yet and he was talking about doing this for longer than the summer? It was as if he’d read my mind and knew I was toying with the idea of sticking around. But how?

Soul continued stroking my hair, his fingers sinking past my thick strands to massage my scalp.

“I’ve always loved your hair,” he murmured. He dropped another kiss on my temple and pleaded. “Just think about it, baby. We’ve been together all our lives, why not make it forever?”