Page 85 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

I take my hand away, not ready to hear it even if it’s true. I look down at my lap, nodding, processing, as two dress shoes appear before me. I look up to see my dad.

“Give us a minute sweetheart,” he says to Winnie, making my stomach twist. Winnie pulls me into a one-sided hug, pressing our chests together.

“I’ll wait, B. I’ll wait and wait for you to accept me. Because I love you and I am so sorry I lied to you, but I’m not sorry for falling in love.” With that, she taps the hostess and disappears into the sea of tables.

I don’t look at my father as he sits down next to me. “I’m proud of the contract you earned. Augustus and Lance told me all about it.”

“You hate that I make adult movies,” I snap back.

“I won’t lie, it’s not what I envisioned for you. But I’m sure what you envisioned for me wasn’t Winnie,” he says, and I turn to look at him, finding him already facing me. He smiles. It’s small, sad, and controlled but still, he smiles at me. Then he takes my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I’m sorry for it all, Brielle. I’m sorry for doubting you and fighting against what you told me in your own words. I’ve always wanted the best for you and I know, I know I haven’t always gone about it the right way. And I know I've brought up money too often and–” he pauses, and just shakes his head. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve tried, Brielle, but I’ve made mistakes. And one of those mistakes was how I treated you when you got serious about Crave and directing, and them, too, even.”

I nod because I’m not without my mistakes, too. “I’m sorry for not answering your calls–”

“Don’t be. You were right. I have done that to you over the years. That’s one thing I regret, how I handled myself when we disagreed. But I’m working on that.”

“With her?” I ask, but does it matter? If he grows as a human being, does it matter who drives the vehicle? I shake my head. “Nevermind. I appreciate everything you’ve said. And I don’t hate you or Winnie… but I need time.”

He nods. “I understand.” Then he blinks at me, dark eyes laser focused, serious, and my diaphragm constricts. “I was going to break it off with her, because I felt so guilty. I didn’t want your friendship ruined. But I was spinning out, I couldn’t get a hold of you, and she told me about them—Augustus and Lance. And while I was angry and didn’t understand, a few days after, I realized—neither of us planned these unconventional relationships. We only plan on falling in love, and sometimes it’s a lot different than we think once we finally have it.”

That resonates with me like he knew it would. He rises, extending a hand to me. “We have to work on us, you and me, but tell me, Brielle, tell me we can?” Hope shines in his eyes.

I nod. “We can.”

Dinner is incredibly awkward… at first. Watching Dad lean into Winnie, pointing out items on the menu she may enjoy, him pulling her chair out for her, rising when she goes to the restroom and rising when she comes back, the way their faces light when in private conversation—it’s clear to me that they are in love.

Sure, not all love lasts forever, but my dad hasn’t been in a single relationship since my mom passed away. “I don’t commit to anything unless it is a lifelong commitment,” he’d always say when I prodded him about dating in my early teens. And that’s the truth—he’s been at the same company his entire life, he lives in the house I grew up in, and still puts up the very same Christmas tree we had when I was a kid.

Winnie has been in and out of relationships since I’ve known her, never quite comfortable with college guys or even graduate students. Something has always been missing, I just had no idea it was age. But the way she clung to me and didn’t promise to give him up for me—she loves him. Yeah, she told me as much. But I can feel it, being at a table with them, I can feel their love.

But I also feel mine. Lance’s hand on my thigh beneath the table when Dad puts his arm around Winnie. Aug’s fingers weave with mine when Winnie calls my fatherbabe. The way they sought out my dad to help me heal my relationship with him, and Winnie, too, in a way. Protecting me when they felt I needed it, but letting me stand on my own when I could.

How can I be angry with Winnie for finding the same fulfillment I so happily cling to with both hands? I skip dessert, and so does Winnie, taking my cue, and before long, we’re rising to leave.

The men filter out as I stop Winnie at the table, staring at where my cloth napkin lies in a heap on my discarded plate. “Congratulations,” she says before I can speak. “I know I already said it but I want you to know I’m not just saying it because I hurt you. I really am so happy for you and your new position at Crave, and moving in with Augustus and Lance.” She pulls me to her and this time, out of muscle memory, I hug her back.

Her familiar scent is both comforting and saddening, because now that I’ve had some time to process, I think I’m realizing that even though I’m going to forgive her, nothing will ever be the same with us.

“Thanks,” I give a half-hearted smile at best. “I forgive you, because I know you weren’t trying to bag my dad, the same way I didn't really expect to end up where I am. And I want you to know, my distance right now… it’s me processing. It’s me realizing that even when we make up and put this snafu in the past, our relationship will never, ever be the same again.”

She grabs both hands, tears flowing freely again. I look down at those hands, knowing they’ve been on my father’s naked chest and bare shoulders and find her eyes again, pushing those thoughts out of my mind. “Don’t say that,” she whimpers.

I shake my head. “We’ll never swap stories the way we used to. I can never complain to you the way I used to. You’ll never have escapades to share.”

We stare at one another before Winnie sniffles. “I know.”

“But maybe we’ll have something more mature. More grown up. More reflective of where we’re at now,” I offer, wanting to mean it, knowing at some point in the future I will mean it. “The truth is, I’d rather have you in a different kind of relationship than not have you at all, Win. But I need time. Okay?”

She nods fervently, “Okay. Take your time.”

We drive home and once we’re there, Aug unloads the crap from the fireplace and fills it with wood. He opens the flue and the three of us lie naked together in front of the roaring flames, letting the warmth lick at our bare bodies, and they touch me.

My dominant lovers run their palms over every smooth curve, rough edge, stretch mark and toned muscle. They rub between my legs, bringing their mouths to my breasts, my nipples, the side of my jaw and throat. They take turns between my spread legs, fucking me slow and deep. Both of them empty themselves inside of me, and we lie tangled together in front of the orange glow.

There are no collars and no commands, only gentle lovemaking between three entangled hearts.

I doze a little but wake up to Lance’s mouth on mine. “Baby,” he coos, kissing me over and over. “Sit up.”

Groggy and tired, I sit up on the lush fur blanket we’d been lying on. On the edge of the fireplace are three navy blue boxes. Aug pops each open and they look at me as I process what I’m seeing.

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