As I pull up in front of the house, I put my hand over my stomach, trying to squash down the butterflies that have created a fluttering ache in my belly. I don’t know what I’m doing when I get back in there.
Eleven men are waiting for me with unclear intentions. All I know is that they want to step in and care for my baby and me. Their motivations are less clear. Is it more about wanting to repay my dad’s kindness than a genuine wish to help me? I would hate them to feel any sense of obligation. Particularly as Dad felt so little obligation toward me.
They voted on whether to try to take things into the sphere of Danna’s reverse harem, and I still have no idea how that vote went. Even if the motion passed, it could have done so on the basis of six in favor, five against. That’s a lot of men who are potentially going to get dragged into doing something they don’t really want to do.
I’m certain that Danna is happy and that her men are content, but as she said, love isn’t shaped by cookie cutters. Twelve people can’t just fall into line at the behest of six. Even if they all voted in favor, I still wouldn’t know what is in their hearts. The word obligation pops back into my head.
We all do things because we feel obligated, but relationships shouldn’t fall into that category. Love should be free from any kind of coercion. The heart should be a floating balloon in a blue sky of love, not tethered like a buoy in a rough sea.
I rub my face with warm, dry hands, kneading around my eye sockets as though I can massage away all of my tangled and messy thoughts, but it isn’t that simple.
Once again, I tell myself that I just have to get through the next few days. Danna said she was sure of her feelings within a week. That sounds crazy to me, but maybe it’s all I’ll need. If I make a commitment to stay a week with my foster brothers, a week to get to know them and find out who they are, maybe I’ll know. It’ll be a week for them to have time to know me, warts, and all, and properly consider the implications of encouraging me to stay. After a week, things will definitely be clearer, and I’ll have had the time to do what Dad asked of me and go through his possessions.
I find the key to the house in my purse, retrieve my suitcase and lock up the car. As I make my way up the wooden stairs to the front door, I can already smell delicious roasting meat. For the first time in days, I’m actually feeling hungry for something that isn’t the consistency of cardboard. Before I can get my key in the door, it’s thrown open, almost as though someone was keeping a lookout for my arrival.
“Hey, Maggie,” Gordon says. “Here. Let me get that for you.” He reaches out with his huge hand and tugs my luggage into the house as though it weighs nothing. I’m so taken by surprise at the speed of his appearance and actions that I take a step back. “Are you okay?” He eyes me suspiciously. “Everything okay at Danna’s?”
“It was… good,” I stutter.
“Well, come on in then.” There’s such a briskness to his tone that I find myself moving faster than I normally would, just to comply. “Everyone’s in the den and the kitchen.” Gordon closes the door behind me and waits as I make my way to the back of the house. In the hallway, the trash bag John and I filled from Dad’s room rests against the wall.
I decide that heading to the kitchen will be the best idea because I’m better busy than I am idle. At least if there are things still to prepare, I can offer my help and blend into the background.
“Hey, Maggie,” John is the first to notice me, moving to sit straighter as I glance around. Sean’s here, and Reggie. Harley and Hunter are the ones cooking today, and I wonder if there is an official schedule or if they just volunteer for duties. It’s the first time I’ve seen John since our kiss, and a crackle of physical energy rests between us.
“Hey, I just came in to ask if I can help.”
Harley turns from where he’s straining something over the sink, steam rising all around him. “We’ve got this, so just take a seat. You must be tired after all that driving.”
The chair nearest to me is right next to John, putting me into an awkward position. “So, how was your cousin?” Sean asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively as I bite the bullet and sit within touching distance of the man I kissed with wolfish hunger borne of my churning emotions.