“You named your son after him. He must have meant a lot to you back then.”
Her cheeks flush. “I was a kid. Scared. He was… kind. Someone safe. It’s nothing more than that now.”
I nod slowly. “I know. But I need to ask you somethin’…”
She shifts nervously, fingers twisting in my shirt. “Wade…”
“You feel anything for him?” I ask. “Anything like what we have between us?”
Her mouth opens. Closes. She looks startled and embarrassed, and she drops her gaze, searching the floor for the right words to please me.
“I…care about him,” she says finally. “He’s a good man. Always has been.”
“Care how?” I press, not unkindly.
She looks at me then, cheeks blazing. “Not the way I want you,” she whispers. “That’s different. You know it is.”
Heat rushes through me, fierce, possessive and tender all at once. But I’m not done.
“Do you know anything about polyamory?” I ask.
Her jaw goes slack. “Poly—what?”
I huff a soft laugh. “Shared relationships. Families built by more than two people. There are a few families around here like that.”
“There are?”
“Two men, one woman and a whole lot of children.”
Her eyes go wide. “Two men?”
“Yeah. What do you think about that?”
She bites her plush lip, and I use my thumb to pry it free. Finally, she speaks. “You mean in theory, or…”
“Not in theory. I mean, us.”
“You mean a relationship with both of you?” Her incredulity makes my heart sink, but I persevere, trying not to show her.
“Yeah.”
She drops her face into her hands with a groan. “I am absolutely not enough woman for two huge cowboys.”
I grin and gently tug her hands down. “You could be if you wanted to be. If it felt right.”
Her eyes soften but worry lingers there. “Wouldn’t you want… your own girl? Wouldn’t you both want something separate? Not shared?”
“No,” I say without hesitation. “When I see a future with you, I see Caleb in it too. And he wants you. Not to steal you from me. To share the life we’re making. To share you.”
Her breath shakes, and she looks overwhelmed. Stunned. Conflicted.
“Wade…this is a lot… this whole thing. And Caleb… I don’t even know what to think, let alone what to say.”
“I know.” I brush my thumb over her cheekbone, then her bottom lip again. “I’m not asking for an answer. Not right away. I’m asking you to think about it. Really think.”
She exhales slowly. “I don’t know if I’m built for that. I barely have the confidence for this.” She indicates us with a flick of her fingers.
“We’re not pushing you into anything, Joelle. You choose your life and what you want it to look like.”
