Something doesn’t work, we talk about it and figure out a way to fix it. There will be some uncomfortable conversations, but it’s a small price to pay.”
Gaeton crosses his arms over his chest. “Uh-huh. And what happens if your long-lost love shows up in Carver City? You’re going to drop us like yesterday’s trash to run off and retake Sabine Valley with him.”
Beast flinches. Actually flinches. “Cohen is dead. He’s been dead for nearly a decade.”
“And if he isn’t?”
I should jump in, should derail this line of questioning, but I’m holding my breath because I want an answer, too. I know about Beast’s ex, of course. I know that he never made it here to meet Beast and that the loss haunts him still. It never occurred to me the man could show up, or what would happen if he did. “Do you know something we don’t?”
“No. But it’s a question that needs to be asked.” He’s staring hard at Beast. “We’re his second choice. Or second and third.”
“No, you’re not second choice. And neither of you is third.” Beast looks like he wants to shut down this line of conversation, but he finally sighs. “I’m not the same person I was nine years ago. If Cohen is still alive, he’s not the same man I fell in love with. He’s my past. You—both of you—are my future. Together. No one above the other.”
I slip my hand back into his. Talking about this can’t be easier than hearing it. He’s trying to lead by example, and as much as I don’t like the idea of Cohen showing up to put it to the test, Gaeton is right. It had to be asked. “This might blow up in our faces.”
“It won’t.”
How can Beast be so sure? None of us have an excellent track record with relationships, let alone one as complicated as trying to juggle three people’s needs. “You don’t know that.”
“And you don’t know it won’t work until we try.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “Try with me?”
I might be questioning this, but there’s only one answer. It’s there in the weightless feeling in my chest and the endorphin buzz in my head. “Yes.”
We both look at Gaeton. He doesn’t seem any happier about this than he was a few minutes ago. “If we try and fail, the entire territory will bear the cost of it.”
“We won’t fail.” Beast sounds so confident, I’m being won over despite myself. I’ve seen him when he sets his mind on something. He won’t give up just because things get hard. He wants this, and I do, too.
Gaeton gives another of those long sighs that make me ache for him. “I don’t trust how good this feels.”
My heart wrenches in my chest. There was a time when he would have trusted it, when he would have the same confidence in this that Beast does. I’m the reason he’s doubting now.
If we do this, there will be no traditional white wedding like he had pictured in his head where I walk down the aisle to him. Saying yes means robbing him of that future
Unless it doesn’t.
If we’re going to be unconventional about our relationship, why not do it with our marriage, too? Maybe a marriage like that wouldn’t feel like a trap.
I give myself a little shake. We’re barely agreeing to this in the first place. Looking that far into the future, to a moment where I might walk down the aisle to both of them, is a bad idea. I sit there and wait for my normal panic at the thought of being tied down permanently to hit, but my only answer is the steady beat of my heart in my ears.
Beast touches his chin, bringing them face to face. “Do you trust me?”
Gaeton tenses like he wants to argue, but finally gives a jerky nod. “Yeah. I trust you.”
“Trust me to take care of us until this feels real.”
The sheer scope of what he’s demanding leaves me breathless. Or maybe it’s hope that has my lungs seizing and my body shaking. When Gaeton finally nods again, it feels like every bone in my body goes liquid in relief. I catch his hand with my free one and he gives me a tentative smile. “You know sealing this with a kiss won’t cut it.”
“Whatever you want.” I still lean forward and kiss him hard. I love you. I love you both so much. I’ve said it. I can’t keep saying it, can’t