Page 50 of Her Courage

"Does this mean I get to see all the special rooms you told me about?" Lottie asked, mischief dancing in her eyes. "The nurseries? The playrooms?"

"Every single one," Colby promised, his voice dropping to that velvety tone that never failed to make Lottie blush. "And maybe we'll even show you our private suite."

Her breath hitched. "There's a private suite?"

"Where did you think we stayed when we needed to be at the club late?" Andrei smirked. "It's fully equipped for our... particular needs."

The flush on Lottie's cheeks deepened. "Particular needs," she repeated faintly. "Right."

I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Don't worry, baby girl. We'll take things slow. Just a tour this time."

"Unless you want more," Andrei added, his eyes darkening as they roamed over her. "Then we can certainly accommodate that desire."

"The most important thing," Colby said, reaching across to take Lottie's other hand, "is that you'll see firsthand that you're not alone in this dynamic. There are others like us—people who understand and celebrate what we share."

Lottie's eyes brightened at this. For all her confidence in our relationship, I knew she sometimes struggled with feeling "normal" about wanting three Daddies. About her Little side. About the dynamics we'd built together.

"I'd like that," she said softly. "To meet others. To see that this is... that we're..."

"Real," I finished for her. "Valid. Beautiful. Not that we need anyone else to validate that, but I know it's nice to be amongst non-judgmental people."

She nodded, blinking back sudden tears.

"It's settled then," Andrei declared. "Friday night, we show our girl the Sandbox."

The tension that had filled the room when they entered had dissipated completely, replaced by an electric anticipation that thrummed between all four of us.

For the first time since Patrice had cornered Lottie in the park, I felt truly hopeful about our future. We weren't just surviving her attack—we were moving forward, stronger than before.

Together, we would reclaim what was ours.

And no one, not even Patrice, could take that away from us.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

LOTTIE

The week crawled by at an excruciating pace. Every morning I woke up thinking it was Friday, only to be disappointed when I realized I had another day—or two, or three—before we'd visit the Sandbox.

I sat at my desk Wednesday night, chewing on my lower lip as I stared at spreadsheets that had long since blurred into meaningless numbers. My stomach was a knot of anticipation and nerves. The club. The place my three Daddies had built together. The place where I'd finally meet others like me.

Like us.

"You're going to gnaw that lip raw if you keep that up."

I jumped, nearly knocking over my coffee mug. Ashlei stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised as she leaned against the frame.

"Jesus, you scared me." I pressed a hand to my racing heart. "What are you still doing here? It's nearly eight."

"I could ask you the same question." She sauntered into my office, plopping down in the chair opposite my desk. "You've been staring at that same spreadsheet for twenty minutes without scrolling."

I blinked. "You've been watching me?"

"Someone's gotta make sure you don't work yourself to death." She gestured at the pile of files beside me. "What's going on? You've been distracted all week. And don't try to tell me it's work-related because I know your calendar better than you do."

I sighed, pushing away from my desk. Ashlei had been my assistant for months now, and in that time, she'd become something more. Not quite a friend yet—the professional boundaries were still there—but definitely a trusted ally.

"I'm just... nervous about Friday," I admitted.