ASHLYN
Irushed out of the fine art museum, anxiety knotting my stomach. If I hurried, I could still make it to the coffee shop on time. It wasn’t the prospect of tardiness that made my insides twist. I was finally going to tell my father about my relationship with Joseph and Marco. It was past time. We’d been engaged for four months, and we were already planning the wedding.
My men didn’t know that I hadn’t told my dad about our unconventional love. I hadn’t been lying, exactly. But I’d omitted it. I knew it would hurt them both, Marco even more so.
I hated the hold my father still had over my confidence. I couldn’t bear his disapproval, and he definitely wouldn’t understand.
I straightened my shoulders and quickened my pace. My kitten heels clicked against the pavement as I rushed from the museum where I’d secured a job as a gallery attendant, greeting visitors and giving information about the current exhibition. I loved working with art, but it was yet another one of my choices that my dad wouldn’t like; he’d wanted me to be a psychologist like him. He’d never understood my interest in Art History or my choice to pursue a less lucrative career.
He'd be horrified if he knew I was ready to work part-time and start a family at the age of twenty-three. With two men as the fathers.
My cheeks already burned at the prospect of his censure, but I had to come clean. Despite everything, I wanted my dad to be part of my life, even if he was distant. My mother was almost entirely absent, and my heart ached at the thought of losing my only parental connection.
I rounded the corner where the coffee shop was located, and my stomach dropped. My father wasn’t the only man waiting for me outside. Marco leaned casually against the brick wall, straightening immediately when his dark gaze found mine.
My steps faltered, and I glanced nervously from the man I loved to my dad, who smiled at me and moved to close the distance between us.
Marco was immediately in my personal space, placing a supportive hand on my lower back as his keen eyes roved over my face, taking in my pale complexion and slack expression.
“What are you doing here?” I asked breathlessly, a slight whimper of dread rather than an accusation.
His heavy brows drew low over his eyes. “You said you were meeting your father here after work.” He caressed my chilled cheek and spoke in a swift undertone. “I know you’re anxious about it. I wanted to be here for you.”
Before I could formulate a response, my dad’s voice floated around Marco. “Ashlyn, it’s so good to finally see you in Boston.”
This was the first time he’d visited since I’d started attending Harvard. He hadn’t even come to my graduation—he was too busy with work. Even today, he was only here because he was attending a conference in town and could spare a little time for coffee with his only daughter.
I peered past Marco, my heart dropping to the pavement as Dad said, “You must be Joseph.”
His tone was a bit frosty. Apparently, he still wasn’t over my supposed decision to take time off from school over my heartbreak when Joseph had left me—when I’d actually been held captive by the men I now loved.
Both of them. But my father only knew about one.
My massive, intimidating fiancé turned to face him, his bulky body swelling slightly as though to half-shield me from my dad’s evident disapproval.
“I’m Marco,” he bit out, extending his big hand in a semblance of politeness, despite his hard demeanor.
Dad’s bushy gray brows rose, his blue eyes sliding from my face to Marco’s hold on my waist, where his thick fingers wrapped possessively around my hip.
I smothered a wince, wishing I could be anywhere else.
My dad blinked and narrowed his gaze on Marco, already judging my dangerous partner. “My mistake. I thought Ashlyn was still dating Joseph.”
Marco stiffened, his hand flexing into my flesh in a brief flash of surprise. I gazed up at him, my eyes burning as I watched his jaw firm to granite, his dark eyes shuttering.
“She is,” he rumbled, stepping away from me as though I’d become white-hot.
Anguish lanced my chest. I’d hurt him. My powerful protector was hard as steel when it came to facing any potential threats to me, but I’d slipped beneath that armor and wounded him more deeply than any blade. He was vulnerable with me in a way he’d never allowed himself to expose his heart to anyone else—maybe not even Joseph. And I’d betrayed him with my lie of omission.
I watched him retreat from me, putting up walls between us even though only mere inches separated our bodies. I reached out and grabbed his hand in both of mine.
“Marco.” I whispered his name, a plea and an apology. My throat was too tight to get out anything else.
“I’ll see you…later,” he said shortly. I knew what he’d been about to say: I’ll see you at home.
Our home. The one we’d made together. The three of us as an unconventional little family.
And now I’d damaged everything.
Before I could find the words to atone for my grave sin, he stalked away from me.
“Ashlyn?” my dad asked, reminding me of his presence. “Is everything okay?”
I blinked hard in a useless effort to clear the sting from the corners of my eyes. “No. I…”
I stared after Marco, torn. I wanted to run to him and tell him how sorry I was. But I’d gotten into this mess by avoiding telling my father the truth. I had to make this right, and that started with rectifying my worst mistake.
The sight of Marco’s pain lit a flame inside me, fueling me with resolve. For my men, I could face anything. I would do whatever it took to protect them, just as they’d always protected me. I would keep Marco’s heart safe and heal the wound I’d inflicted.