Chapter Three - Rochelle
Mommy and Me just… isn’t for me. I kinda knew this on day one when I walked into what amounted to the rural Colorado version of the Stepford Wives.
Pagosa Springs is about as picturesque as it gets. It’s up there with any of the postcard places you see in movies and travel brochures if you’re into mountains, rivers, and national forests.
I like those things, which is why I chose this place. And I like small towns, so I like that too. But I guess I didn’t realize that almost everyone here is on permanent vacation.
Kinda like me, now that I think it through.
Permanent vacation because they are so damn rich, these women have nothing better to do than pretend they live in rural America as they sip mimosas at the club every Monday afternoon and let their nannies socialize their babies.
Anyway… I’m here starting a new life. These women in the Mommy and Me group at the country club (complimentary membership for all long-term residents of the Mineral Springs Resort) are here because this town is boring.
Well… that’s kinda why I’m here too.
I’m not what you’d call a city girl by any means. I’m not. I like moccasins and gauzy shirts. Hell, my whole apartment back in Denver was decorated in what the guys liked to call modern-day Bohemian. And I chose to live in Denver because while it’s a city, it’s a city alone. There are no other big cities anywhere close to it. Colorado only has three cities to begin with and Pagosa Springs is not one of them. Not even close.
So even though whitewater rafting down the San Juan is something I’d totally dig, and even though I could really get behind an off-grid week-long camping trip up in the Weminuche Wilderness, and even though I’d love to be looking forward to an entire winter of snowboarding up at Wolf Creek, I can’t do any of those things with a baby.
And I wouldn’t want to go alone, anyway.
I sigh as Sheryl, my only sorta-friend here in town, sips her mimosa and flamboyantly waves her hands around as she describes something funny her baby did with the nanny yesterday.
We do not have a nanny, so Adley is sitting in my lap, sticking my hair in her mouth, completely content to watch the Stepford Wives get liquored up and giggle like teenagers.
There are a few full-time local moms here at the meeting too. But they sit off in another area. It’s high school all over again. I’d prefer their company by miles, but I’m not really local. And I’m not sure I’m permanent.
I’m probably not coming back next week because all the remaining Stepford Wives are going to their third houses for the snow season in a few days. Apparently Wolf Creek is just not classy enough so they simply must ski Aspen and Vail.
I can’t wait for them to leave. I feel like I’ve gotten too close to Sheryl and if I took off now, she’d ask questions. Although she has never once asked me why I’m staying in the long-term housing at the resort, I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a battered wife on the run, and if I disappeared she’d probably file a missing person’s report.
It’s kinda touching, really. That she’d care. But the cops looking into my past is the last thing I need.
So I’m biding my time until they all disappear and then Adley and I are outta here. I think we’ll spend the winter in Jackson Hole. That’s a nice out-of-the-way place. And winters are crazy fun with all the snow people. Quin took me there for a weekend once and we had a blast.
Adley starts to get fussy and I check the weather outside to see if it’s time to go yet. But this place does have one thing going for it. The amazing hot springs in the center of town. My resort has a huge one and I take Adley there every day so we can soak. There’s one pool that’s not too hot. There’s a little inlet from the river that lets cold water rush in, so it’s almost tepid. Perfect for a baby.
But it was raining this morning. And there was lightning. Can’t go in when there’s lightning. Right now it’s misty outside. But I think the thunderstorms have passed.
I stand up and start gathering my things.
“Oh, are you leaving already?” Sheryl asks.
Already? Jesus. I’ve been here for three hours. If I don’t get out now I might scream.
“Adley needs a nap,” I say in my sweet voice. It’s a cross between naive and innocent on the outside, but on the inside it is cynical and world-weary. I smile at that thought and Sheryl thinks I’m being friendly.
“You can put her down in the nap room.”
I could. If I was that kind of mother. But I’m not. And she’s not really tired yet. I’m pretty sure she’s anxious for her dip in the tepid springs.
“I’m tired too,” I say. “I got no sleep last night.” Adley is a champion sleeper. She never wakes up and I’m probably the most well-rested new-mom-without-a-nanny they’ve ever seen. But I exhale just the right amount of sigh and hike the diaper bag over my shoulder. “So I’m gonna lie down with her. See you guys next week.”
“Oh, we’re leaving!” Suddenly there is a big production about how they will never see me again and I get stuck there for twenty more minutes just trying to say goodbye.
By the time we actually do make it back to the suite, we really are tired.
I tell myself we’ll just sit for a minute and watch People’s Court before tackling the bathing suits and heading out. But one minute turns into ten, turns into an hour, and pretty soon we’re all cuddled up in the giant king-sized bed, fast asleep.
I wake to the soft, sweet coos of Adley. When I open my eyes and look down at her, she’s smiling at me. “Hey, pumpkin,” I say. “You ready for a swim? Should we eat first? I bet you’re hungry?”
More smiles.
I take that as a yes to all of the above and get busy changing her diaper, putting on her suit. Then I dress her up in a pair of baby sweats and a tiny pink hoodie that says, Pagosa Springs, Refreshingly Authentic. The town motto. Most of our wardrobe has been purchased at the tourist shops on Lewis Street. I know Jackson Hole is not much bigger than Pagosa, but at least it will be different. I see a whole new set of tourist clothes in our future.
I velcro a bib under her chubby baby chin and take her over to a chair to feed her a bottle. We’re just starting to transition into baby food and she’s not cooperating very well. I’m one of those go-with-the-flow moms, so I’m not gonna push. One new food a week is about all I’m up to. Then I make a little note in the journal I’m keeping on her baby days. If she likes it. If she has any kind of allergic reaction. Nothing so far. But we’ve only tried peas (she hates those), peaches and sweet potatoes (her favorite).
I love feeding her bottles and it will all be over too soon for me, so I’m content with the slow progress we’re making.
I settle in the chair near the window with her in my arms. It’s got a great view of the mother spring here at the resort. Talk about pretty. My life could be a lot worse, so I like to spend my feeding time with Adley being thankful for what I have and not dwell on all the things I lost.
We did the breastfeeding thing. Tried to, anyway. Didn’t work, which led to a—thankfully brief—few weeks of depression when Adley was just a few weeks old. But holding the bottle for her is almost as good.
“Go with the flow, huh, baby?” I coo down at her wide blue eyes as she stares up at me.
A loud knock at my suite door makes both of us jump and Adley’s face changes from total contentment to a scrunched-up look of shock.
“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” I whisper as I stand up and cross the main room to the door, and pull it open.
Elias Bricman is standing there, knuckles poised to knock again.
“What the fuck?” I say, before I remember I’m holding Adley.
Bric looks at me… looks at Adley… and then looks at me again. “Well, you did good, brat. She’s adorable.”
Brat. It makes me want to growl at him. I always hated him calling me that. “What the heck are you doing here?”
“Heck?” He laughs, then nods. “Oh, I get it. Kids and shit, right?”
“Bric—”
“I just found out where you were.” He stands there stoic, like this explains everything.
“And?” I’m so beyond stunned. Not to mention annoyed. “What happened to the no-follow rule?” I worried about Quin looking for me at first. But after a few months I tried my best to put that part of my life behind me. And Bric? Never in a million years did I expect him to show up.
“Look.” He sighs, looking around. My suite has a porch, so it’s outside. And I share this porch with three other suites. This makes Bric nervous. “Can I come inside?”
“No,” I say. “No. We were just leaving.”
“Going where?” he asks. “Somewhere where I can’t come? Or can I come with? I really need to talk to you about…” He looks down at Adley again. “This… situation.”
“We don’t have a situation, Bric. And we don’t have anything to talk about, either.”
Bric leans both hands on either side of the doorjamb like he’s gonna take control of this situation right now. Fucking bulldozer. He’s always been like that. Elias Bricman needs to get his way or he morphs into an asshole on the spot.
“So…” he says. “Who’s her father?”
“Really?” I ask in my most cynical voice. I even raise one eyebrow.
“I think I deserve to know this, Rochelle. You can’t just get pregnant and walk away from the father.”
I snort as I adjust Adley’s bottle so she can continue eating. “What makes you think you’re the father?”
He shrugs. “Quin would say the same thing if he was here.”
I look Elias Bricman dead in the eyes. “What makes you think he’s the father?”
The look on his face almost makes me laugh. Almost. I hold it in so he figures I’m serious. Asshole.
“Can. I. Come. In.” He says each word in little staccato clips. It’s not a question. Not the way he says it. It comes out as—I’m coming in.
He pushes past me and then, yup. He’s in all right. I close the door and whirl around. “What do you want?”
“Who’s her father?” he asks again.
“How the heck would I know?” I laugh. “Could be you, I guess. Could be Quin. Could be someone else.” I say it to piss him off. And it works. Because he’s got that look on his face. The one that says, Be careful.
“Are you fucking with me right now?” he says, on the verge of angry. “There are only two possibilities. Smith already told us he stopped seeing you months before you left.”
“You think you know me, Elias? You’ve never known me. At least Quin tried. You never tried. You got what you wanted. I got what I wanted. End of game.” I smirk at him and enjoy his confusion. It’s not often I get the best of Bric. So I soak it up.
“So you played the game for almost three years and then suddenly remembered you were only there to get a fertilized egg out of it and left?”
“I already said I don’t know who the father is. How would I possibly know that without a DNA test? Did I swab your cheek, Elias? Did I get a blood sample from Quin? Why are you here?”
He calms down after that. I can see it in his expression. I know him pretty well. Three years is a long time. Enough time to understand body language and facial expressions. Enough to be wary of his dark side. “Are you angry with me?” he asks.
“I’m not anything with you, Bric. I’m just… I’ve just moved on. OK? I’m different now. My whole life is different. And I really don’t know why you’re here. After a year, you show up now?”
“One year exactly,” he says. “It’s been one year to the day.” I say nothing so he stares at me for a moment and then looks around at my suite, trying to get a grip on the situation.
“Well…” I chuckle as I watch him. “I’m not going back, if that’s why you’re here. And I’m not falling for all your bullshit. I have a lawyer, in case you think I’m still that same little brat you met four years ago. I’m ready for this day. One hundred percent ready. So you—”
“Why not?” he asks, still looking around at all the baby stuff. He picks up a soft teething toy I just bought for Adley since she’s due for that little milestone, and then sets it back down on the foyer table where he found it.
“Why not what?” I ask, walking Adley back into the living room area. She’s got her eyes locked on his face. I haven’t ever had a man over here so I guess he’s just… interesting.
“You don’t miss us?” Bric asks, still looking around.
“I’m different now. I just told you that. I’m not playing your game anymore.”
“Give me a break, Rochelle,” he huffs. “The game is over.”
“Exactly. I ended it. And I won. So if you’re here to ask me to come back to Denver, save your breath. I’m not coming.”
“How do you afford this place?” he asks. “My investigator says you pay five thousand a month for this suite. It’s a lot of money to live at a resort.”
“Are you serious?” I laugh. I’m not surprised he knows how much I pay for the suite, but I am a little shocked he thinks I’m broke. “You paid my bills for three years, Bricman. Gave me a place to live, bought me food, clothes, gifts. And you guys put thirty thousand dollars in my bank account every month. How else would I be paying for the suite?”
“So you never spent it? You saved it all up?”
“Why do you care?”
“I’m just trying to understand how you’re living this lifestyle. Do you have another…” He stops mid-sentence. Like he can’t continue.
“Do I have another… what?”
“Another… arrangement?”
I laugh so loud, Adley startles in my arms. “Sorry, baby,” I say. “But Elias Bricman is on drugs.”
“So no… quad?” he prods.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I pan one hand down my completely disheveled outfit of leggings and t-shirt, lack of makeup, and fucked-up slept-on ponytail hair. “Do I look like I’m playing another sexual fantasy game here? I’m a new fucking mother, Elias.” I wince at my f-word. I’m really trying not to swear in front of the baby.
Bric runs his fingers through his hair like he’s frustrated. “I’m just trying to understand. You left everything we gave you behind.”
“Because I didn’t need it.” I’m rolling my eyes at his stupidity. Did he really think I was spending thirty grand a month while I lived with them? On what? It just shows me how goddamned clueless he is.
“So you left it all behind to get rid of us? All of it? Put us away and just forget it ever happened?” He stops and scratches the shadow creeping down his jaw. He’s one of those guys who needs to shave every day. Something I always enjoyed about him when we spent our nights together. “So you saved your money and you pay for all this yourself?”
That little question mark at the end is almost cute. He’s so… un-Bricman-like right now. He came here thinking I had a sugar daddy. I almost laugh at his insecurity. “I have a lot saved still. I bought a nice Lexus. And I put most of it in a trust fund for Adley. But I do get that payment every month, so I’m not strapped.”
“What payment?” His eyes narrow.
“The ten grand that gets deposited into my account every month. I assumed it was from you. No?”
“No,” he says. “Maybe it was Smith? Maybe you’re his new project.”
“Ha.” I laugh. “Good one. It’s probably Quin then. And even though I don’t feel like I owe you for it, I do… appreciate it.”
It has helped. I had more than a million dollars saved when I left them and I only spent a hundred grand on the car. Which was stupid, but I justified it because I wanted to drive places instead of flying. I don’t fly.
“So he’s been paying you.” He says it more to himself than me. “And you’ve been accepting it.”
“I figured it was child support.”
Bric points a finger at me. “Right. Because this child belongs to us.”
“To me,” I clarify. “I will fuck you over six ways till Sunday if you came here to pull some custody bullshit on me, Bricman. I’m not even messing around right now.”
He holds his hands up, palms facing me. “Back up, sister. I’m not here for the kid. Come on. Get real. I just…” He sighs. Walks over to a chair and sits. Leans back and closes his eyes as he massages his temples. “You have no idea what your little stunt did to Quin.” He opens his eyes. “No idea.”
I shrug. “It hurt me too. When you said abortion—”
“I never told you to get a fucking abortion.” He looks at Adley and lowers his voice. “I never said that, Rochelle. I just said you had a few options.”
I shrug again. “I heard what you weren’t saying. I know you better than you think. I know what goes on inside that head of yours. I’ve seen it, Bric. Experienced it first-hand. And I already knew Quin wasn’t into me like that. So I did what I had to do.”
“You left Chella in your bed? That’s what you had to do?” he says, voice rising again.
“Oh, so it worked, huh?” I smile at that. “How’d that go?”
Bric sighs. “She’s practically engaged to Smith now.”
“What?” I laugh. “What the hell?”
“I know, right?” I get a small familiar smile from Elias Bricman. The friendly one. The real one. One I hardly ever saw when we were together. He only brings it out for special occasions and I was never special enough. “They hit it off. In fact, we all liked her. She played well. But it didn’t last. She quit and went with Smith.”
“Well, damn. I never saw that coming.”
“But Quin—”
“Bric. I can’t. It was hard for me too. It hurt so bad when I left. But I did leave. And I had a good reason.”
“What was your reason? Because he’d be into the whole baby thing if he knew.”
“He doesn’t know?” I’m shocked. But he put money in my account every month.
Bric shakes his head. “I never told him. He thinks you had the abortion. I never told him you called me last summer.”
“Sorry about that,” I say, looking away. I walk over to the couch next to the chair and take a seat. “I had just given birth and my hormones were all out of whack. Plus I felt like a total failure because I couldn’t get the hang of the breastfeeding thing. I was really looking forward to that. But I shouldn’t have called.”
“We would’ve been there for you, ya know. Even me, Rochelle. Even Smith. He’s the one who went looking for you first. He couldn’t stand to see Quin so unhappy and confused.”
“Hmm. I never saw that coming either. The Smith looking for me part. Not Quin. I knew Quin would be hurt but… he hurt me too, Bric. You have no idea how bad.” We sit there in silence for a minute. Adley is playing with my hair as she drinks her bottle, wrapping long strands of it around and around in her tiny fist. “If Quin didn’t know… then why was he sending me money all year?”
Bric shrugs. “He loves you. He probably wanted to make sure you had what you needed.”
“He doesn’t love me.” I roll my eyes.
“Shit, Rochelle. He’s a fucking mess. He won’t even talk to me these days. He’s so mad about how it ended.”
“You’re… not playing the game anymore?” I almost can’t believe it. Elias Bricman is nothing but a game. I can’t even imagine this man living a normal life. Not just the sexual stuff he’s into. But everything. His whole life is wrapped up in controlling people.
“Not with him,” Bric says. “Not with Smith either.”
“Then who?”
“That new guy. Jordan Wells? Did you ever meet him?”
I shake my head. “But just one guy?” That’s not like him either. He likes to keep things off balance. Anything less than plural is just not dynamic enough to satiate his dark appetite.
“I’m not really here to talk about that game, Rochelle. I’m here to beg you for a favor.”
“I’m not going back. I told you that. In fact, you’re lucky you came today. I’m about to move again.”
“Where?”
I shrug. “Dunno yet.”
He exhales loudly like he’s really frustrated now. “I really think I need to know.”
“You don’t deserve to know where I’m going.” My own frustration is building. Where does he get off? How in the world does he figure I owe him something?
“Not where you’re going,” he snaps. “If I’m the father.” His head is downcast, but he looks up through a wave of hair. It’s longer than I remember. Not long. But shoulder-length. And some of it falls over his face until he runs his fingers through it, putting it back in place.
“Why?” I ask. “It’s not like you ever wanted kids.”
“Didn’t want them. That’s right. But if I have one, Rochelle, that’s different. I’d need to know that. We really do need a DNA test.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Well, we do.”
“Quin doesn’t even know about her. So he can’t want that.”
“I’m gonna tell him tonight when I leave here, and once I do, he’ll come looking and he’ll demand a DNA test.”
“Is that a threat?” So many things in that statement make me uncomfortable.
“No,” he says. “No,” more emphatically. “That’s not why I’m here. I just… need to know. And I need to make things right with Quin. So I have to tell him.”
We have another long silence as Bric picks up a toy from the floor. A red plastic block. He turns it in his hand like he’s never seen anything like it before.
“You said you came to beg for a favor. Was that your favor? The DNA test? Because if so, it’s not happening. I get why you’d want to know, I do.” I look at him with an earnest expression. “I even sympathize about your situation with Quin. But I cannot get involved with you guys again. It was…” I stop and try to pull myself together. I’d forgotten about the feelings. All those desperate moments last year. All the crying and craziness. I know it was just the hormones, but it was real while it was happening.
“It was what?” Bric prods, ever the psychoanalyst.
I let out a long breath of air. “It was hard. I didn’t want to walk away, Bric. I wanted what every pregnant woman wants.”
“The happily ever after?” he asks, shooting me another small, but genuine, smile.
I shrug. “I guess you could call it that. But right after I found out I was pregnant, after I told you—like the next day, I think—Quin and I were at your last garden party on the Club roof and we were dancing. It was such a great night. I told him I loved him and he looked at me, Bric… he looked at me like I was a stranger.”
“So you left.”
I nod. “I left. I knew he… I knew I was important to him, right? But the minute I admitted that I loved him, I saw the fear in his face.”
“What fear?” Bric asks.
“That the game would end. I knew right then that ending the game was the thing he feared most. Not me, Bric. He wasn’t going to miss our couple relationship. But us. Me and you and him. That’s what he wanted. That’s always been what he wanted.”
They both want that. I thought Smith did too, so that doesn’t fit into my assessment of them. Why play this game over and over again? But I don’t know Smith that well. I do know Bric. And Quin is just like him, minus the dark Machiavellian side.
Bric picks up a blue block and stacks it on top of the red one on the arm of the chair. He watches Adley for a few seconds. Another smile creeps out. So many real smiles from Elias Bricman today. “She looks just like you.”
My gaze falls down to my absolutely beautiful daughter. “I think so too. She’s got my blonde hair. And I still have a baby picture of me.” I nod to the photo frame on the mantle of the fireplace. It’s a cheap frame. Something I bought at the local drugstore after I got Adley’s first pictures taken last month when I made a rare trip to the Durango mall. It’s me and her, side by side. And we could be the same baby, that’s how much alike we look.
Well, except for the eyes. Adley has bright blue eyes and mine are hazel. But that might change.
Bric stands, walks over to the fireplace, and picks up the frame. “Jesus.”
He stares at the image for so long I start to feel weird. “That was the favor then? The DNA test?”
“No,” Bric answers, still gazing down at the photo. “That was just to piss you off.” He smiles, looks over at me from under that curl of hair again. “Because I know you. I know how to push all your buttons, Rochelle.”
Right. Bric is all about manipulation. “Then why are you here?”
He places the frame back where he got it. Gently. With reverence, almost. “We could play a new game,” he says. And then, ignoring the confused look on my face—“A game called Make Quin Happy Again. Give him what he thinks he wants.”
I shake my head and huff out something that isn’t a laugh. I know Bric cares about Quin. They are like brothers. But he’s not here for Quin. He’s here for himself. Everything Bric does is for himself.
“Because I think you’re right,” Bric says. “He likes the us. The three of us, you know. But I think he wants you, Rochelle. And he’d want this baby if he knew about her. I came here because I thought I could bring you home with me. Chella is making us have lunch together tomorrow at the Club. I know Quin doesn’t want to see me. Can’t even fucking look at me.” He winces at his swear word, but doesn’t apologize. “So even though when I got on the jet this afternoon I was coming here to beg you to stay away… I had another thought along the way. A small idea crept in. A little fantasy, you know? That I’d show up with you and the baby tomorrow like a… like…”
“Like a gift,” I say, filling in the missing word. He nods. Slowly. I say, “I thought you were playing a new game with that other guy?”
He huffs out an exasperated laugh. “It’s so fucked up, Rochelle. It’s never gonna work. And I miss you too.”
We stare at each other for a few moments. I’ve talked to Bric lots of times. He’s an easy guy to confide in. But I’ve never talked to him about our relationship. And he’s never offered me up anything more than the casual, You look nice tonight, remarks. Or, I like your hair that way. They always felt so… mandatory. He was always nice to me. Always generous with his money. And careful during sex. But he never looked at me the way he’s looking at me now. It makes my heart flutter a little. “You miss me,” I whisper. “With you and Quin?”
He nods again. Even slower than the last time. “I have been talking myself into thinking you leaving was the best thing to ever happen to me. But it was a lie. Just like you’re trying to lie to yourself right now. What we had was good, Rochelle. Better than good, really. It was pretty fucking great.”
I look down at Adley, wondering how I went from hating the fact he was here to… reconsidering all my choices.
He’s good, I tell myself. He’s always been good at playing on people’s emotions.
“Don’t you get lonely? Do you have boyfriends?” he asks.
“No,” I say. But I’m only referring to the boyfriend part. I get very lonely. I just hide it better than I used to.
He comes over to the couch and sits down next to me. Very close, so our legs are touching. “Can I hold her?”
I almost snort. “You want to hold her?”
Another slow nod of affirmation. “I can’t stand it.” He laughs. “I need to touch her. She’s so fucking pretty.”
“Have you ever held a baby before?” I ask, not sure what to make of this unexpected turn of events. Hell, so many turns in this one conversation, I’m getting dizzy.
“I played Santa last year at Christmas.”
“You did not.” I laugh.
“I swear to God. Smith was busy with Chella so I stepped in. I’m that kind of guy, Rochelle. I step in.” He holds his arms out, like this is a done deal. And I’m a little off my game right now, not sure what the next move is, but handing him Adley can’t be a wrong move, no matter what, right? So I gently slip her into his waiting arms and watch his expression change from badass Bric to melty Elias in the same moment.
“We could make him happy again, brat.”
This time when he calls me brat I don’t feel defensive. It feels… like affection.
“He’d be my friend again. You’d be my lover. We’d be what we were, Rochelle.” He looks up from the baby and stares at me. “But we’d be better.”
A new take on an old twist. My head is whirling with ideas, and possibilities, and… maybe even regrets. Did I bow out too soon? Did I not give them enough credit? Did I misinterpret every signal they ever sent me? “I have a car here, remember?” I say, almost whispering.
“We’ll have someone bring it to Denver. We’ll get you your own place if you want. It might be weird if you stayed with one of us. Quin won’t want you at my place and vice versa. It would be much better, Rochelle. I promise. We won’t play that game anymore. We’ll start something brand new.”
“Something… real?” I ask, almost afraid to hope.
He gives me that slow nod one more time. “Something very real. I’ve missed you. And I know you think I was never invested—and that’s fair. I probably wasn’t. But I am now, Rochelle. I am. We could start again. Pick up where we left off, but with new rules.”
“What rules?” I ask, my heart sinking at the thought of all those fucking rules. I can’t do that again. It was way too confusing. The best thing that ever happened was Smith distancing himself from our game and letting Quin and Bric do whatever they wanted.
Bric shrugs. “Make them up as we go, you know? I don’t know what this might turn into, but I’d do just about anything to get another shot at it.”
“Do you love me?” I ask, confused.
“Yes,” he says, no slow nod this time. Nothing but commitment. “I love you in my own way.” He shrugs. “We all loved you, Rochelle. We just didn’t pay much attention to that feeling until we realized you were gone.”
“We’re not supposed to turn back,” I say.
“Fuck that,” he says softly. “We make our own rules. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you made a mistake and then correcting it, right?”
I let out a long breath. “I don’t want to get hurt. What if Quin—”
“He won’t,” Bric says quickly. “He loves you. He really does. He’s fucking miserable, Rochelle. If I bring you back to him…” He trails off, shaking his head.
“I’d be your gift to him?”
“Yes,” he says, smiling down at Adley. “And her too.” He looks up at me again. “I have a jet waiting. We can’t leave until morning but one night alone won’t hurt, right?”
Jesus Christ. I’m instantly horny. “But it’s Monday.”
He laughs so loud, Adley starts crying. I take her, laughing with him, because my immediate reaction was to morph back into the game. Then shush her until she’s settled again.
“Well?” Bric finally asks, his fingertips playing with my hair. “What do you think? Should we break all the rules tonight and start something brand new tomorrow?”
I look up and bite my lip. Some of this feels wrong. The one night alone with Bric, for sure. Because I’ve never wanted him. Not alone. It’s Quin I dreamed about at night. It’s Quin I really love. It’s Quin I wanted a million different ways for the rest of my life, and couldn’t have.
But I am lonely. I have been so lonely for so long I forgot what it feels like to have someone. Someone you know. Someone you love, because I do love Bric. Not the way I love Quin. But I do love him. He’s someone I trusted, even though I knew better. And now he’s here, asking me to reconsider.
It feels… wrong, but right. Because Bric and I are not going to be a couple. We’re going to be a ménage with Quin again. A kind of family.
It’s not how I imagined it when I left. Not what I wanted back then. But that’s because I didn’t think Bric would be interested in a real family. I thought he’d kick me out and they’d all walk away.
But this… this is what Quin wanted, right? The three of us forever?
Just imagining myself with both of them again. God. It was good. All the fun Quin and I had. The way he made me feel so cherished when he came over every week and made love to me. All the crazy shit Bric likes to do in private. The way he was careful with me even though he wanted to do so much more.
All the… sharing.
We’d stopped that for a while because Bric was always looking for more submission. But the times we did share… it was amazing. I loved the way it felt to wake up between them both in the morning.
Why did I leave? Was it the hormones? Was I just mentally unstable?
“OK,” I finally say. “It’s been so long I could use a night of rule-breaking.”
Maybe he’s right. It could be good again. It could be so much better. Maybe some part of him has changed? Maybe he’s not the selfish, narcissistic player I thought he was? Maybe my time away has made him reconsider the dark part he hides inside that head of his?
I get a big Bric smile for my answer. “Good.” And then he leans in and kisses me. One hand touches my face with honest affection, while the other drops to Adley’s soft tufts of blonde hair. “Good,” he says into my mouth.
It’s like I never left. Like we didn’t have a year apart. I didn’t have a baby. And all three hundred and sixty-five days between then and now never happened.
It’s like a second chance.
“Do you want to spank me?” I tease. And then I immediately feel stupid. What is wrong with me?
You’re lonely, Rochelle. And sad. You’re just really good at hiding it.
“I really do,” he says, pulling back from the kiss. “After we put the baby to bed.”
We?
We?
For some reason that gives me a little panic attack. Did I just agree to share my child with them too?
But Bric stands up and offers me his hand. “Come on. I hear this dinky town has an amazing hot spring. Let’s go have some family fun.”
It’s just one night without rules. I can handle one night, right? I’m a professional game-player. I did this for three years.
But if Bric came to get me, that makes him number one. And we all know why I shouldn’t fuck number one.
I’ll get attached.
And where will that leave Quin when I see him tomorrow?
Elias Bricman thrives on control. If I let him control me again, nothing will have changed. He’ll be the same guy, with the same motivations, as he was when I left last year.
I don’t want what we had last year. I need more than that.
“I change my mind,” I say.
Bric squints his eyes at me, frowning. “Which part?” he asks.
“All of it.”