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Trevor returned the crayons to the box and set her teaching supplies on her desk next to the pink plastic tea set. Then he scooped her into his arms and stepped around the debris strewn across the floor.

Sophie stirred briefly.

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s bedtime.”

“But, Daddy, I’m not tired.”

Trevor grinned. Much like her mother, the girl fought sleep, regardless if she was already asleep. “In you go.” Trevor laid her on the unmade bed. He pulled off her socks and tucked the purple satin covers around her.

She gave him a sleepy smile and reached her arms up for a hug.

He closed his eyes and just held on to her, this sweet child who filled all their lives with so much joy. He nestled her head in the pillow and kissed her cheek. “That one is from Mama.” He kissed her other cheek. “That one is from Papai.” He kissed her forehead. “And that one is from me.” He brushed her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “Want the night light on?”

“Uh-huh.” Her gaze darted to the floor. “Can you get Mr. Tuttles? He’s scared to sleep on the floor.”

“Of course.” He still thought it a strange name for her favorite bear, but she’d chosen it out of the blue at age two and it’d stuck. He snagged the panda and tucked it next to her. “’Night, darlin’ girl. Love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

Trevor plugged in the nightlight and left the door open a crack before he headed down the hallway to the master bedroom.

He removed his long-sleeved shirt and T-shirt, tossing them in the hamper along with his dirty jeans. After washing his face and arms, he slipped on a pair of black sweatpants and a gray tank top. He’d need to channel his frustration after they talked to Westin, because guaranteed he’d wanna punch the shit out of something.

Faggots. Who taunted a kid—a kind, innocent little boy—with that term?

You would have.

Goddamn. Trevor didn’t want to think along those lines, to remember the judgmental ass**le he’d been at one time. He’d been raised that way—as had Chassie and Edgard—which was why they were raising their kids differently.

He perched on the edge of their gigantic custom-made bed, forearms resting on his thighs, his face aimed at the carpet. Westin and Sophia were aware their family was different from the norm. But due to divorces and remarriages, didn’t most kids these days deal with multiple parents? How was it anyone’s business how they lived in their own home? Or how they loved each other? He’d bet the ranch very few traditional family units were as attuned to each other as theirs. They had to work harder at communication because of having a third partner. And he wouldn’t have it any other way—regardless of the societal repercussions.

Footsteps fell across the carpet. A pause. “Did you mean to leave the light on in Sophia’s room?” Edgard asked.

“No. Guess my mind was elsewhere.” Trevor glanced up. “Was she still awake?”

“Nah. She just yanked the covers over her head. I shut the light off.”

“Thanks. And Max?”

“Out. He didn’t last through one book, let alone two.” Edgard gave Trevor a once-over. “We working out tonight?”

“I’ll need to hit the heavy bag after...”

“After what?”

He sighed.

“Trev, what’s goin’ on?”

So Trevor told him.

Edgard didn’t say anything. Then he crouched in front of Trevor to get his attention. “That’s not all of what’s bugging you.”

The man knew him so well. Trevor reached out and ran the back of his knuckles along Edgard’s jaw. He hadn’t shaved for a day and Trevor had the sudden need to feel beard burn on the inside of his thighs. On his chest. Scraping on his cheeks and neck as he kissed Edgard senseless.

“Dangerous to keep lookin’ at me like that, meu amor. Burning me alive with those fiery eyes of yours won’t make me forget the issue at hand, as much as I’d like to.”

“I know.” Trevor dropped his hand. “I f**kin’ hate that I used to be that type of kid Westin is dealin’ with. Anything I didn’t understand, I belittled. I laughed when I made kids cry. Laughed. Jesus. How many people I bullied growing up would say I’m getting what I deserve? Seeing my son cry.” He exhaled. “I’m to the point I can handle what anyone calls us. But it breaks my damn heart that Westin is hearing that shit.”

“Hey. You’re not the same man you were. Thank God for that.” Edgard stood and held his hand out to Trevor. “Worrying about karma coming back to bite you in the ass won’t help us now.”

As soon as he was upright, Trevor tugged Edgard against his body and buried his face in Edgard’s neck. “I’m grateful every damn day that we have this life.”

“Me too. We knew goin’ into it, it wouldn’t be easy.”

“Some days I can’t believe we’ve all been together eight years. And other days, I feel like my life started when I met Chassie and you came back.” Trevor lifted his head. “Do you think we oughta cancel—”

Edgard covered his mouth with a brief kiss. “No. The three of us need the time together. Chassie will be relieved that we’d planned to keep Westin out of school tomorrow anyway.”

“So we’re all set?”

“Yep.”

Trevor grinned. “Chass is really gonna be surprised.”

“I was surprised. It was a sweet, romantic thing to plan, Trev.”

“What can I say? You and Chassie bring out the best in me.” Trevor kissed him, more than a soft peck but less than the tongue tangling soul kiss he preferred. “Let’s go talk to our son.”

Edgard kept his hands on Trevor’s shoulders as they returned to the kitchen.

Chassie sat at the head of the table with Westin on her lap. He poked the marshmallows in his cup of hot chocolate.

They each took a seat beside Chassie.

“So I checked Westin’s workbook and he got one hundred percent.” She brushed his blond hair from his forehead. “Our smart boy also translated five words into Portuguese.”

Edgard said, “I’m proud of you,” in Portuguese, which brought Westin’s quick smile. Chassie and Trevor were learning the language, just not as fast as the kids.

“Maybe Papai oughta get me’n Mama a Portuguese workbook, so we don’t fall behind you and your sister.”


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