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“Probably one my parents had.” I grin when she gives me a curious look. “My mom and stepdad were really loving and open. We talked about literally everything. You name it—politics, sex, mental health.”

“No kidding?”

“Nope. I got the birds and the bees talk when I was four. The first time I had sex as a teenager, I told them afterward, and they sat me down for a discussion on the importance of pleasuring my partner.” Wincing, I recall some of the cringier details. “There were diagrams.”

“Oh, God.” She laughs. “No wonder you’re so good at your job.”

“My mom is actually the reason I have this job.”

“ What?”

“It’s true.” I can’t believe I’m sharing this. It’s not something that typically comes up with guests. “I went through a rough patch when I was injured in the line of duty. I left the Marines and went on a self-destruction binge—booze, pills, fast cars, you name it.”

“Oh, Logan.” Tears fill her pretty brown eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine now.” I’m a little surprised that Trent didn’t tell her.

Guess he guards others’ secrets just like his own.

“When I pulled myself out of it, I needed to find a new path. I talked it over with Mom and she asked what I most wanted to do for a living.” That conversation feels like yesterday.

“Like a total smartass, I told her my life’s ambition was getting paid to have sex with a large quantity of enthusiastic, appreciative women. ”

“You did not!”

“I sure as hell did. ”

She’s shaking her head like she doubts me. “I can’t imagine even saying the word sex to my parents.”

Huh? “What would they call it?”

“Ugh.” She rolls her head. “ Lying together was a favorite for my mother. My dad just called it your marital duty .”

“Bet they’re fun at parties.”

“Not really, but they mean well.” Her eyes get a faraway look. “I’ve always liked the term making love . It sounds so sweet and intimate.”

“Sure.” Not my favorite term, but I get how it fits her long-standing beliefs about intimacy.

“I said the words ‘making love’ in front of my mother once.” Sara makes a face. “I don’t even remember the context, but it probably had to do with my future honeymoon. This was in high school, but I already knew by then that I wanted to marry Trent.”

“That’s sweet.” And so far from how I was raised. “I take it Mom’s not a fan of the term ‘making love’?”

Sara laughs, but it’s stilted. “She said she’d wash my mouth out with soap if I said it again.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s fine. She’s just kind old-fashioned.” She lowers her voice like she’s telling a secret. “I still like that term, by the way.”

“I won’t tell.” God, she’s adorable.

Smiling, she squeezes my hand. “Back to your story, please.”

“Right, yeah. So after I told Mom my dream job was having sex with copious enthusiastic women, she went online and did research. Two days later, she came back with a dozen printed pages and a link to apply as a consort for the Jilted Brides Honeymoon Club. Six weeks later, I had a whole new career.”

Sara stops walking and stares at me. Wind whips her hair and the light makes her eyes seem to glow from within. “I can’t even tell you how much I love that.”

“It is pretty cool.” And also a good reminder to call my parents. It’s been a few days since we chatted. “I know I’m lucky to be raised by such open-minded, sex-positive people.”

“Would you believe I had no idea families could even be like that? Not until I met Camille.”

“That makes sense.” I’m dying to kiss her right now. To fold her in my arms, slide my fingers through her hair, and pull her lush little body tight against me.

Would that be breaking the Marshmallow Mandate? The one about two of us not hooking up without first discussing it with the other. I don’t want to disrespect Trent or fuck up this fresh new connection between us.

“Hey, guys.”

Trent’s voice rings out like I’ve conjured him up with my thoughts.

I turn just in time to see him strolling up the beach toward us.

Hands in his pockets, he’s kicking through sand with the sun in his eyes and his hair still damp from the shower or sea.

As his eyes sweep mine, a surge of emotion rolls through me.

It swells up my throat and bursts out my mouth like a goddamn explosion.

“I fucking love you guys.”

There was a more graceful way to say that.

But fuck it. I look down at Sara, who’s blinking at me with joy in her eyes.

“I know you said it the other night and I kinda didn’t respond.

Consorts are trained to brush aside declarations like that tactfully, but fuck me, I mean it .

” Glancing at Trent, I’m met with an unreadable expression. “That a problem for you?”

His throat rolls as he swallows. “No.”

“No, what?” Anxiety wedges a fist in my throat. Is he rejecting my sentiment or?—

“No, it’s not a problem.” He takes a step closer, those odd golden eyes shining with something that isn’t just sunlight.

The tiniest smile tugs the edge of his mouth as he opens his arms. “I fucking love you guys, too.” Dragging us into a spine-crushing hug, he fuses our trio together.

“And not love like I say to my teammates, you know? Or my mother or cousin or anyone else.”

“I know.” Sara buries her face in his chest as her arms wrap around both our waists. She wiggles between us, finding the space that just fits.

With my nose in her hair and Trent’s steady heart thumping my arm, it’s the happiest I’ve felt in my whole fucking life.

This.

This is what I want. Forever. Both of them, all of us , building a life for our trio. I see children, and pets, and a big, happy home filled with love like I knew as a kid.

Is anyone else here feeling it? Is it just me being a sentimental sap?

Well, fuck it. That’s how I feel, and as my mother would say, they can just fucking deal with your heartfelt emotions.

It’s Trent who speaks first. “Come on.” His voice fills with gravel and the rush of the sea, and he doesn’t release his fierce hug. “Let’s go.”

Tipping her head back, Sara peers up at him. “Where are we going?”

He looks in her eyes for a heartbeat or two, then his gaze shifts to mine. Something significant passes between us. A breath, or a current that goes far beyond expression. It’s a spark, an explosion, an eruption that flows from my heart to the rest of my body.

Then Trent smiles at Sara, kissing the edge of her temple. “I believe the best term for it is making love .”