Page 44

SARA

Three years later

“ H ey, honey?” I shout down the hall, holding the back of my dress at the top. “Could I get a hand with this zipper, babe?”

Like the stars of a puppet show, Trent pops his head from a door on the right, while Logan leans out on the left. Spotting each other, they laugh.

“I’ll be honey this time.” Trent strides from the door of our bedroom, shifting my hair to the side. He kisses the back of my neck as he zips up my dress.

From his spot at the edge of the nursery, Logan pretends to growl. “No fair,” he protests. “You were honey last time. It’s your turn to be babe .”

“Can it, Jarhead.” Trent dots a dozen more kisses at the back of my hairline. “I earned honey by doing those three extra shifts of diaper duty.”

“All right, that’s fair.” Logan ducks back through the door of the nursery. “I’m wrist-deep in diapers myself.” His voice gets drowned by a series of sweet baby giggles. “Our daughter produces some interesting colors, let me tell you.”

“Please don’t.” I love when he uses those words.

Our daughter.

He means all of us—Trent, Logan, and me.

When we decided to get pregnant, we chose not to know who the bio dad was. Given the quantity of sex we all have, either man could have knocked me up. But we’re choosing to raise little Ella with two dads and one mom.

And as the mom in this picture, I open my arms as Logan swoops out with our fresh-smelling baby. “This is the right dress, yeah?”

“Yep. That’s the one Eve picked.” Kissing my sweet girl, I straighten her frilly orange flower girl frock. “Are you all dressed up for Auntie Eve’s wedding?” I give her a smooch on one baby-plump cheek. “Are you gonna throw flower petals at Uncle Kit?”

“ Da!” Our little girl giggles, possibly knowing as well as I do that we’ll be lucky if she doesn’t stuff a fistful of petals in her mouth.

It’s a good thing they purchased the edible kind, planning ahead for our sixteen-month-old bundle of wonder.

I kiss her again and Trent keeps the giggles going as he tickles her little round belly.

She squeals and flails her chubby arms. He tickles again as he takes in her outfit. “She looks like a pumpkin.”

“She does not.” I can’t get enough of these cheeks.

The first week I went back to work after having her, I came home on my prep time to snuggle her every day.

Lucky for me, the new school I work at gives generous leave to teachers with babies.

It’s ten miles from Coronado and teeming with military families at the same stage of parenthood we’re in.

I’ve got plenty of peers around me for support, not to mention the world’s most supportive stay-at-home dad.

That’s right .

As it turns out, Logan’s investment portfolio was substantial enough that he won’t need a paid job for at least a few years. When Trent and I asked what he wanted to do, he pointed immediately to my pregnant belly.

“That,” he said, grinning. “I think that’s what I’m meant to do.”

I couldn’t agree more. Logan’s a natural at fatherhood. Maybe it’s his easygoing charm, or the fact that he’s still kind of a kid himself. He’s perfect with Ella, and she adores Daddy Logan to bits.

“All right, enough smooching.” He scoops our sweet girl from my arms. “Aren’t we supposed to get there early?”

“It doesn’t take that long to drive there.” Trent fixes his tie in the mirror over Logan’s shoulder.

Logan himself is already dressed and Ella grabs hold of his necktie and squeals.

“Da!” That’s her favorite word lately, her own special shorthand for dad.

“Gack.” Logan feigns like he’s choking, and maybe he is. Our sweet little princess has a mighty fierce grip. “Can one of you grab the diaper bag?”

“Got it.” Trent takes up the rear, guarding our six like always. I swear he became even more protective once we got pregnant. My Navy SEAL sweetheart is now a Navy SEAL husband and father, and I’m not sure which role he revels in the most.

As Logan tucks Ella into her car seat, the guys start to bicker over who will be driving this time. It’s not what you think, though. Not some macho control thing with cars.

“It’s my turn to ride with Ella.” Logan’s got the advantage of being back there already, buckling her into the car seat. “I drove us to story hour yesterday.”

“Well I drove to our pediatrician appointment,” Trent fires back. “That took twice as long, so I got less time in back with Ella. ”

Logan rolls his eyes. “You’re full of it, Frogman. I drove all last week when you were OUTCONUS.”

“Doesn’t count,” Trent argues. “I drove the whole way from Redding to Portland on our way here. That’s nearly seven hours without squooshing or smooching this sweet little baby who?—”

“I’ll drive,” I tell them, snatching the keys from my purse. “You dum-dums fight it out in the backseat together.”

There’s a little more grumbling, but eventually they settle on each side of Ella in back. As I glide down the driveway, I catch sight of my trio in the rearview mirror. Two rugged warriors and one tiny baby. My heart swells to the size of a watermelon.

“Everyone buckled up?” I call.

“Yep.” Trent starts singing some song I recognize as a Navy anthem. Logan joins in, singing over the top of him with some tune about US Marines.

Rolling my eyes, I see little Ella bouncing with glee in her car seat. She loves this game almost as much as the guys do.

It’s been a wild few years. Not everyone in our families took to the notion of throuplehood easily. My father spent four months not speaking to me, and it took Mom some effort to coax open his mind and his heart.

I’m not sure what did it. Her passionate plea on behalf of the love is love concept? Or maybe the sex strike she threatened if Dad didn’t agree to just meet Logan once.

He was toast after that. There aren’t many people who can resist Logan’s charm.

By the end of the evening, my father had made plans to play disc golf with both of my guys.

They go whenever we visit and my father’s been scoping out disc golf courses near our place in California.

He’s talked about getting a second home so he can be closer to his granddaughter and two favorite sons-in-law.

Go figure.

Trent’s family situation isn’t quite as rosy, at least not for his dad.

To the shock of all who knew her, Mrs. James agreed to press charges against her husband.

It turned out he had several previous assault charges on his record, so Mr. James got a dishonorable discharge and Mrs. James got the house, along with Logan’s mom as her new best friend.

Maybe it did all work out like it needed to.

So now we’re a throuple, and honestly, it’s even sweeter than I expected.

Three sets of hands are better than one with a baby, and having two men around means I never get lonely when Trent is deployed.

And when Logan flies back to visit old Crystal Bliss pals, I get alone time with Trent.

Or sometimes I’ll go out with girlfriends and come home to find the guys snuggled on the sofa, our sweet little girl nestled between them.

Suffice it to say, we’ve altered the Marshmallow Rule.

It’s one of many ways our relationship keeps evolving.

We call ourselves married, but it’s mostly a series of legal protections.

Polyamorous marriage isn’t really a thing, but we’ve got all the right legal docs in place.

Explicit wills and beneficiary agreements, power of attorney paperwork, all the forms designating legal guardianship of Ella.

It helps that one of Camille’s sisters is a kickass attorney who specializes in unique family law.

We’re pretty much the luckiest people on the planet.

By the time we reach Eve and Kit’s house, wedding guests spill from the backyard where they’re hosting this informal ceremony. Ash and Camille pull up right behind us, and she rushes over to snatch Ella from Logan.

“There’s my favorite baby!” She swoops her into the air, beaming at Ash as he approaches in charcoal Armani. “Promise me our baby will be this cute.”

“I promise.” He darts a pointed look at her rounded belly. “How could it not be, with such stunning maternal genes?”

Camille laughs and smooches our baby again. “I paid him to say that.”

Trent chuckles. “Clearly, he needs the money.”

The six of us start toward the backyard. This wedding is small, and as we stroll through the gate, Eve looks up from a chat with her mom.

“You made it!” She hurries over, her pale-blue dress fluttering behind her. Wrapping me up in a hug, she smooches my cheeks in a cloud of perfume. “I’m so happy you drove all this way. With a baby and all, I know it’s a lot.”

“Are you kidding?” I laugh. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Kit ambles over, dashing in a tan summer suit. He beams at his bride, looking happier than I’ve ever seen him. “Hey, guys.” He gives Logan a hug, then Trent. “Thanks for coming.”

“Glad to be here.” Logan chuckles as Camille absconds with our baby. “We’d never miss the chance for a free sitter.”

Trent grabs a beer from the cooler beside us, handing it over to Logan. He chooses a seltzer for me, the passionfruit kind I favor while nursing. He grabs one for himself in solidarity, though I know he’d prefer to have beer.

I survey the crowd, recognizing a few familiar faces and some new ones. “I’m so glad we got great weather.”

“So am I,” Eve says. “You never know what you’ll get in September, but this is pretty much perfect.”

“So are you.” Kit kisses the side of her head and all of us make aww sounds.

Well, Logan says, “Get a room,” but that’s almost the same thing.

We chat for a while, catching up on new gossip. Camille wanders back with Ella still wrapped in her arms. “I had to show her off to my sister,” she says. “I swear, your daughter is just the cutest.”

“Thanks.” All three of us answer in unison, then laugh since it’s not the first time we’ve done that.

“My turn.” Eve takes Ella from Camille and our sweet little girl beams up at her aunt. It boggles my mind what a happy, sweet-natured baby she is .

Have I mentioned I’m pretty damn lucky?

“Hey, here’s an idea.” Camille looks at Ash with a hand on her belly. “A sexy resort where couples can go for a babymoon.”

Ash raises one silvery eyebrow. “The Haggard Parents’ Honeymoon Club?”

I laugh. “Doesn’t a babymoon happen before the baby arrives?”

“I have no idea.” Ash considers that. “The Gorgeous Goddess Global Retreat?”

Logan shakes his head. “Gotta get the dad in there somewhere.”

“Not necessarily,” I point out. “Kora and Sybil didn’t need a dad and their baby is perfect.”

“Agreed,” Ash says. He’s never confirmed it, but there’s a rumor floating around Crystal Bliss that he donated the batter to bake little Liam in Kora’s belly.

She gave birth just a week ago, which is why they’re not here today.

“Speaking of which, Camille and I would like to invite all of you to join us next month at our place.”

She smiles at her husband with love in her eyes. “We’re celebrating National Noodle Day and we’d love you all to be there.”

“Sounds fun.” I’ll cross my fingers Trent won’t be deployed, but I’m hopeful. Fate has a funny way of working to our advantage. “For now, should we get this wedding started?”

“Yes!” Eve hands Ella to Logan, then threads her arm through Kit’s. “I’m ready.”

I stay where I’m standing, wanting to savor this vision. All our dear friends, my two stunning husbands, our sweet little girl in the arms of her daddy.

How did I get so damn lucky?

“Sara?” Trent turns around when he sees I’m not with them. “Everything okay?”

Logan goes instantly on alert. “What can we get you?”

Trent’s eyes drop to my belly. Has he already guessed the big news I’ve been waiting to tell them ?

Suffice it to say, Ella won’t be an only child for long.

“Everything’s perfect,” I tell them. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Trent catches my hand and Logan takes the other. As we stroll through the flower-strewn arch—untangling ourselves with a laugh when our trio gets stuck for a second—I can’t believe this is my life.

Our life.

Our perfect, happily ever after.

***

In the meantime, have you checked out my Sugar and Spice series? It’s nuclear-hot like this one, with a similar blend of heart, heat, and humor. Keep reading for a peek at the first chapter of Eye Candy . . .