Golden Boy by E. Davies

Author:E. Davies [Davies, E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

NYE

Santa knew what he was doing when he made sure that boy landed in my lap tonight.

“Nnnh,” I groan as I slap the lid on the frying pan again, leaning back against the counter. That mental image is not helping all the pent-up energy that’s coiling up in my muscles. “Come on, Nye. Focus on cooking.”

Burning the house down isn’t very romantic.

I only have minutes before my husbands get home. I’m making dinner—it’s only pasta, but with carefully sliced veggies and artistic use of Parmesan, it’ll look beautiful in the shallow bowls on a fully-set table.

Hopefully it’ll be okay, for such a special occasion.

Nerves clench around my stomach again, and I have to stop and take a deep breath as I touch the ring box in my pocket. I don’t often feel self-doubt, but it’s gnawing away at me now.

Is this really the right moment to do it?

I’m caught up in the teeth of my oldest, most forgotten desire—a way of being that’s so natural, it might as well be breathing. The minute Golden walked in, those sweet, innocent green eyes woke him up again: Daddy Nye.

I’m reeling from the possibilities, the capabilities I’m remembering within myself. Without even knowing it, Golden made me say the answer out loud.

He pretends to be grumpy… but that’s not really who he is.

It’s not just Jude.

It’s me.

I’ve never totally lost touch with the Daddy part of me. It stirs all the time, when Star and Jude need it. But they never need me the way a real boy would—and Golden did, this afternoon.

And it’s not just Jude who needs a boy… it’s all three of us.

When we decided to get married—legally or not, it never mattered to us—we knew our relationship would never be straightforward. We even talked about finding a boy one day.

I don’t know when we stopped taking it so seriously, when it became a running joke… but I think I know who’s responsible for that.

Me.

I think I’m the one who retreated first.

I was so afraid of the three of us not being a complete unit—so afraid of what it would mean if I couldn’t somehow provide everything the other men need—that I retreated into sass and snark. It’s what I do anyway, but I started to use it to paper over the cracks instead of point out the things that need to be addressed.

I have to believe.

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