As soon as I walk through the front door, I see Moira pacing, looking down at a tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. Since Moira did not have a baby when I left for work this morning, I look around for its mother.

My sister-in-law is sitting on the couch, popping grapes into her mouth and watching television. Her gaze brightens when she sees me. “The boss is home,” she announces.

I smile faintly. I like Gwen. A little loud for my tastes, but she knows who’s in charge. “Hello, Gwen. Are you staying for dinner?”

“I was staying for the free babysitting,” she announces. “I adore Layla. Motherhood is beautiful and fulfilling and wonderful, but you know what no one tells you?”

“What’s that?” I ask, though I’m not even mildly interested.

“It’s exhausting and you don’t get a break. Ever. One might think that since I have a husband, I might get a break, but one would be wrong.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Side note, do you rent Griff out? And if you do, can you talk to Carl and convince him that letting his wife have a hot boyfriend who helps around the house is a good idea?”

A hot boyfriend who helps around the house?

I don’t immediately understand, but then Griff comes back to Moira’s side with a pink pacifier he must have just retrieved for her.

Aw, shit. Those two are going to get sucked into the “babies are cute, let’s have one” vortex, aren’t they?

Now that I’m here, Moira turns and hands the baby off to Griff. She beams at me and hastens over to throw her arms around my neck, leaning in to give me a lingering kiss. “There’s my handsome husband. I’ve been missing you all day long.”

I briefly kiss her lips before glancing past her and pointing out, “Seems like you have a lot of company.”

“Mm hmm,” she agrees, running a hand down my chest. “But none of them are you.”

My hands skate down her sides until they settle on her hips, then I pull her in for a much less casual kiss. Her body melts against mine at the stab of my tongue, a faint sound of pleasure slipping out of her. I need to take her out. I need to spend some time with her.

I need to take her upstairs, strip off these clothes, and bury myself deep inside her.

Probably can’t do that with her sister here, though.

Moira pulls back and smiles up at me tenderly, smoothing her hands down over my lapels. “How was your day, honey?”

“Not bad,” I murmur. Then, raising my voice enough for Gwen to hear, I ask, “What is my favorite sister-in-law doing here?”

Gwen smiles and pushes up off the couch. “Your only sister-in-law is here playing chaperone. I had no idea you guys had a whole kinky love nest thing going on here. I thought I caught my sister being a desperate housewife, so being the dutiful sister-in-law that I am, I stayed here and made sure no funny business went on until you got home.”

I shake my head, amused. “Well, much as I appreciate the loyalty, they’re allowed all the ‘funny business’ they want. The more orgasms Moira can have in a day, the better that day is.”

Gwen’s shoulders sag and she sighs. “Why didn’t I meet you first?”

Moira chokes on her laughter. “Back off my men, Gwen. Jesus.”

Gwen pouts. “Being married with a new baby sucks. I don’t get orgasms from even one man, let alone two. You guys are depressing me.”

“Sounds like your husband is depressing,” I remark.

“Compared to Mr. Give Her Orgasms, yeah. He can’t even be bothered to come home at a decent time each night. After I’ve been parenting all day long on three hours of sleep. I don’t have time to eat and he can just go out after work and blow off steam. I’m lucky if I get a shower every day. You guys are so bad at marriage. How is she this happy to see you at the end of the day? Sometimes when I’m getting up with Layla for the 18^th time in a given night, I daydream about pouring scalding hot coffee over my husband’s head while he sleeps. That’s what marriage is supposed to be like. You guys are doing it wrong.”

“Well, she’s happy to see me because I make sure she has plenty of time for sleep, showering, eating, and also I make sure she gets multiple orgasms each day. Sounds like Carl needs to step his shit up.”

“I’m going to send him to you for husband lessons,” she agrees.

I look past the women at Griff, awkwardly cradling the tiny baby against his chest. “How are you holding up back there, Griff? Need a break from baby duty?”

Moira grabs my arm, her eyes widening with urgency. “Please don’t hold that baby. My maternal yearning is already off the charts; if I see you with a baby, too, I’ll die.”

I cock an eyebrow at her. “After everything your sister just said? That didn’t put you off babies altogether?”

Moira blinks at me like I’ve just uttered the most ridiculous set of words she can imagine. “Have you seen how small her little hands and feet are? Heard the adorable noises she makes? She’s wearing a onesie. Her legs are pudgy and adorable. She looks like an angel when she sleeps. Babies are majestic and Layla is making me want one desperately.”

“So you can be up all night and not have time to shower?”

Moira plants a hand on her hip and looks up at me expectantly. “Between you and Griff if I can’t get some relief, then you should both be ashamed of yourselves. Besides, you rarely go out after work. You’ll be home most evenings, and if you’re not here, we’ll make sure Griff is.”

I lean in and brush my lips against hers one more time. “I like to come home and spend my free time with you.”

Gwen sighs heavily, shaking her head as she goes over to Griff. “Give me my baby back before I stick my head in an oven.”

“Yeah,” Griff agrees, shifting the baby. “Being around them when you’re in a shitty marriage is the most depressing thing in the world.”

“I’m not in a shitty marriage,” she mutters, half-heartedly, like even she can’t muster the energy to believe it.

Griff lifts his eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he hands her Layla. The baby fusses immediately, but settles down once she realizes she’s being handed off to her mom.

“There’s my little buttercup,” Gwen croons, kissing the baby’s tiny forehead. “Did you like hanging out with Uncle Griff?”

Griff brightens. “I get uncle status?”

Gwen shrugs, like she’s not altogether confident, but the decision has been made. “The boss said it was okay, so I guess it’s okay.”

I smile and squeeze Moira closer, murmuring, “Have I mentioned I like your sister?”

Moira smiles up at me fondly, leaning into my side and wrapping her arm around my back. “She’s a smart cookie.”

Gwen spends a few minutes gathering up all her baby paraphernalia and saying her goodbyes. To be honest, I just want everyone out of my house so I can spend an evening with my wife. Since I’ve let Griff join us, I haven’t had Moira to myself at all. I like having him around; it reminds me of how things were between us before I met Moira, when Griff and I lived together. But we do need time together alone, too.

Once Gwen leaves, Moira tells me she hasn’t started dinner yet because she’s been visiting with her sister and her niece.

“You don’t have to,” I tell her, snaking an arm around her waist and tugging her against me, chest to chest.

Her blue eyes twinkle at me. “I don’t?”

“We’re going out to dinner tonight.”

“Just the two of us?”

I glance past her at Griff, scrolling through something on his phone with a scowl on his face. “You okay over there?”

He looks up, annoyance brushed liberally across his features. “Fantastic.”

“Problem?”

“Lawyer bullshit. I’m never getting married again.”

I smile faintly. “Well, yeah, bigamy’s illegal, so at least until I’m dead, that’s off the table. Ashley pulling some shit?”

Moira turns back to look at him. “Since you met with her?”

My eyebrows rise at this new nugget of information. “Since you what?”

“Don’t worry about it; I’ve got it under control. I’ll straighten this shit out tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna need details on that, but not right now. Are you cool on your own tonight?” I ask Griff. “I’m gonna take Moira out.”

He glances between us, then nods his head. “Sure. Go have fun.”

I watch him for a moment. He still seems agitated, but I don’t know if it’s because of Ashley or because I want Moira to myself for a little bit. She insists she needs a shower before we go out, so I tell her to make it quick and hang back with Griff.

It’s been a busy week. Apparently I haven’t kept a good enough eye on everything—got Griff out meeting his whore ex-wife, Moira yearning for babies, my time with my wife cut down to unacceptable levels. I figured there would be an adjustment period. Personally, I hoped we could skip over all that shit, but I knew it was unlikely. I’ve been nothing but hospitable. I’ve done everything I could to make this easy on both of them.

They’re both feelers, though, and feelers are a pain in the ass when things need to change. Giff’s also a little more possessive than is ideal for this situation. I figure we should be able to get past it since Moira is mine in the first place, and if he wants her, that’s the only way he gets her.

Thing is, I’m not sure if he really wants her, or he just wants what’s mine. There could be some covertly competitive bullshit going on here. It may not be about her. It could be about me. If it is, he’s not going to be satisfied no matter how fair we are. If it is, this isn’t going to work. I’ll share Moira with him, but if he starts to try to horn in and push me out, I’ll knock the motherfucker right back out.

It’s probably not that. I tell myself it’s not that, because I don’t want it to be that. I want this to work. I want everyone I love to be happy and satisfied under my roof. No one making dramatic exits, no one hurting and torn apart by jealousy—all of us happy. My wife is capable of pulling it off. If Griff is here for the right reasons, we’ll all be fine.

“What’s up your ass today?” I ask him, while I wait for Moira to come back down.

“I don’t want to tell you. You’re a big enough pain in my ass when you’re not telling me how right you are about everything.”

I shrug, unable to summon even a hint of remorse. “Use your brain more often and you’ll be right, too. What’d you do this time?”

“I met Ashley for lunch. Tried to, anyhow. She pissed me off and I left before we had a chance to order.”

A faint smile tugs at my mouth. “That sounds right.”

“So she ran to her lawyer. Now she’s requesting fucking court-ordered couples counseling.”

A little bark of laughter shoots out of me. “Are you kidding me?”

“I wish. I need to call Carrie and tell her this is bullshit.”

“Man, she is not letting you out of her clutches. You should just go talk to Donovan, put a hit on her ass, take care of it nice and simple.”

Griff shoots me a narrowed look. “You’re hilarious.”

I lift my eyebrows, nodding. “Yeah, I was joking. Definitely joking. Unless you thought it sounded like a good idea.”

He cracks a smile and shakes his head at me. “You’re an asshole.”

“Ah, but I got a smile out of you,” I tell him, smacking his arm before standing and heading for the stairs. “She’s taking forever. I’m gonna go tell her to get her little ass dressed before the restaurants close.”

* * *

Moira sighs with contentment, leaning into my side. My arm settles around her waist as we stroll through Rittenhouse square. It’s a little chilly out tonight, but Moira loves to walk through here when we’re nearby for dinner and I don’t like to deny Moira anything she loves.

I’m glad we came out tonight. I’m glad we spent some time alone together. Integrating Griff into our relationship is fine, but we still need our own time, too. Now that we’ve had it, everything feels calmer, like a peace I hadn’t even admitting to losing has been restored.

I could enjoy doing just about anything as long as Moira came with me. I could walk through the fires of Hell, and as long as I had her nestled up against my side, I could look at it like a tropical vacation I didn’t have to pay for.

Moira’s thoughts must be in line with mine, because she suddenly tilts her head back and looks up at me. “I’m glad we did this.”

I give her a little squeeze. “So am I.”

“You always have the best ideas,” she informs me.

“I do,” I agree.

She grins and elbows me in the side. “You’re so cocky.”

“It’s why you love me.”

“One of many, many, many, many reasons.” Peering up at me again, she asks, “Are you happy with how things are right now?”

“You mean with Griff?”

“I mean with everything. I’ve been trying to balance a new relationship and I haven’t had as much time to devote to ours. I feel bad. Usually you get all my time and attention.”

I smile, bringing her hand to my lips so I can brush a kiss across her knuckles. “And I am a greedy bastard.”

“You are not,” she says, dismissively. “You’re shrewd, but you’re generous.”

“Only with my loved ones.”

“I don’t care about anyone else,” she teases.

That’s a lie, but I don’t bother calling her on it.

Since I don’t tease her back, she turns serious again. “I just want to make sure we don’t get skipped over in any way because of the new developments. I don’t ever want you to feel you’re not getting enough of my time, and if you do, you need to tell me.”

Given her sentiments are in line with my own, I have to acknowledge that even though I’m sharing her, our relationship is obviously top priority. That’s sensible to me, but I don’t know if it’s going to work for Griff. He probably hopes things will be more equal. I guess I do too, because I don’t want Moira to feel like Griff is a job, and I don’t want Griff to feel like second best, but I can’t force her to feel a way she doesn’t, either.

“How are things going with you and Griff?”

She glances up at me, but she looks a touch hesitant. “How do you mean?”

“Just trying to get a read. How are you feeling about everything? Does he seem to be adjusting well?”

“I guess so. It’s taking some time. We only just started looking at each other this way, so that relationship has quite a ways to go before we catch up. If we even catch up. I’m not sure if we’re supposed to.” She hesitates, then admits, “I’m a little worried about him feeling left out, but I don’t know if I want him to have an equal place in my heart anyway. I can’t even imagine that. You’re my everything. You’re king of my heart, no contest.”

I crack a smile, but her words—however well-meaning—cause my worry to grow. “He’ll be able to feel that, though. That’s not fair to him. Are you holding back on purpose, or do you just not feel that way for him?”

She watches the brick path beneath our feet like it holds the answers. “I don’t know. You know I love Griff, but sometimes he says things that make me feel like he’s being competitive with you, and that’s not okay with me. I try to reassure him, but I don’t know how deeply it runs.” Now she looks up at me, like she hates what she’s saying as much as I probably hate hearing it. “I know you love Griff, I know he loves you, I just don’t know if he’s cut out for this.”

“He just needs to feel secure in your affection. It’s too soon to know whether or not he can hack it, but he needs to feel your love. That’s the only way this stands any chance of working. If he feels like you’re ready to quit on him, he’ll feel insecure all the time. It’ll all feed into inevitable failure. It’s all right if this fails, we can’t force it to work, but I don’t want it to fail because you’re worried about hurting my feelings. I don’t want you to withhold from him to appease me. I don’t need you to do that.”

Still tentative, she asks, “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Keep doing what you’re doing, but let go. Open up. Give it a real chance. Our love is secure. You and me are forever. Nothing can touch us. Loving Griff does not mean you love me any less. You’re doing all this for me. You’ve got a big heart with plenty of room for both of us. Griff has plenty of good qualities. He’s loyal as hell; he just needs to know he’s got two feet on solid ground. We were both taught we had to look out for ourselves first, no one else was going to, so that’s what he’s doing right now. He needs to know he’s safe with us. He needs to know we’re not going to quit on him. As much as we can, we both need to commit to this. We can’t get a read on whether or not it will work if we’re half-assing it.”

“But what if he tries to…?”

I shake my head. “Can’t think that way. He’ll feel it. Suspicion doesn’t feel like love. He needs to feel your love. Let yourself fall for him, if you can.”

She misses a step, then looks up at me warily. “You want me to fall in love with him? Like… the way I’m in love with you?”

“Sure,” I say, nodding. “Wouldn’t that be most enjoyable for everybody?”

“Not for you,” she objects, frowning.

I love my wife, but sometimes it’s tedious trying to explain shit like this to people. “It is best for me because that’s how we’re all happy. Being in love with him doesn’t mean you’re not in love with me anymore. You don’t have to choose. You get both of us, so why not fall in love with each of us? Enjoy us both as much as you can. We each have different things to offer separately, and we’ll have the best dynamic together if you have deep, legitimate feelings for both of us, not just me. Only being in love with me will breed resentment.”

She doesn’t answer. I give her a minute to process, but she still doesn’t respond.

“I know I’m asking a lot of you,” I tell her.

“It’s just scary,” she says. “I never expected to do any of this again. I have you.”

I stop walking, so she does, too. I pull her in front of me, grabbing her hips and pulling her against me. She tilts her head back, her big blue eyes clouded over with conflict. I hate that. I know it’s my fault. This wasn’t her idea, it was mine. Because of my needs, she’s already had to completely change her lifestyle. Now I’m asking her to take on a full-fledged relationship, with all the complexities that entails, alongside ours. Her body may like when we’re both paying attention to her, when we fuck her together and double up her pleasure, but this isn’t just pleasurable—it’s work. It’s a risk. It’s investing her own feelings in something that just might not work. I’m asking her to open herself up to heartache to keep someone around for me—and since she was brought up traditionally, this goes against her idea of normal to begin with. Moira’s a little survivor so she adapts, but I don’t think she realized this would be as complicated as it is. Letting Griff fuck her is easy. I almost wish he just needed to fuck her, because that’s not risky. That could be uncomplicated fun, teaming up with my best friend to overload my wife with pleasure, using her together—I like all that. That’s fucking fun.

Feelings are a lot less fun.

I’ve always known that myself, and now I’m foisting all the hard work off on Moira.

I’d shoulder it for her if I could, but Griff doesn’t need me. He needs her.