Page 6 of Little Red Merlot

“Open is a bit of an oversimplification.” Ava squirms in my lap. It’s probably a nerve-wracking topic for most people, but with the life of excess and hedonism I’ve lived, there’s pretty much nothing they can tell me that I’d judge them for.

When Huck explains how he enjoys sharing Ava with men he’s selected, Ava interrupts to add that she likes watching Huck be with them, too. My dick thumps at the fantasy of Ava watching Huck pound into my ass, and it makes her giggle.

“I think you like that idea.” She wriggles around until she’s straddling my legs, faced away from me in the same position as she’d been in while sitting on Huck’s lap.

“I like it a little too much. Which I think you can tell, minx.” If I liked it anymore, I’d cream my pants like a hormonal teenager.

“So, do you like, bring someone home from a club and hook up for the night? How does it work?” I don’t really want to know, because jealousy is an unattractive look. But I still ask.

“Sometimes,” Huck answers slowly, as if he knows this is treacherous water. As if he doesn’t want to hurt me and knows how quickly I’ll mark this down as a meaningless hook up, so as to guard my heart, if he admits they do this all the time.

“We haven’t had a third, even for a night, since you finished rehab,” he continues. “We couldn’t bring ourselves to fool around anymore when we’d finally found the man we wanted to keep.”

“Then why…” I’m afraid to fully accept what he’s saying.

“You weren’t ready. Too young. Too unsettled,” Ava answers, understanding without explanation.

“Too fucked up, you mean.” Bitter regret tastes foul on my tongue. I could have had them in my life this way, if I hadn’t been such a fuck up.

“Boy, that’s not what she said at all. Plain speaking, you weren’t ready for a committed relationship then, and you know it. The whole thing would have crashed and burned. And then it would have been hard on you. On Jameson. The band.”

“It still might. After last night, you can plainly see I’m still a shitshow.” Pessimism isn’t my usual vibe, but I can’t help but worry and feel a little sorry for myself.

Sobriety hasn’t been easy. Rehab was hard, especially because, in treatment, everybody’s trying to claw their way out of a hole at the same time. Going from disregarding every rule the law and society makes to the regimentation of a detox facility is a culture shock. Add in a couple dozen other addicts, all trying to make the same adjustment, and it’s a fuckall of bad times.

Then the therapists and counselors decide when the tools are learned and the detoxing is complete, and that’s the magic wand of graduation from rehab. Only the urges remain. The need for escape. But additionally, there’s now an added weight of expectations from people who care that the addict doesn’t slip. Doesn’t let them down. Again.

“That wasn’t your fault, Si. I refuse to let you shoulder the blame. You drank from a water bottle handed to you by one of the hospitality crew workers. Not. Your. Fault,” Huck practically growls.

“Still, I’m an addict one step away from a relapse at any moment. You and Ava should stay far away from me, so I don’t drag you down with me.” Self pity, thy name is Silas.

“Jameson told us you tried to quit, so they could replace you. We thought he was exaggerating. He wasn’t, though, was he?” Ava asks.

I shake my head. I tried to get the guys to find a new guitarist, but they’d flat out refused. I bet when Jameson finds out I’m hooking up with not one of his parents, but both of them, he’ll regret not letting me quit back then.

Chapter

Seven

AVA

“I’m glad they didn’t give up on you,” I say, reaching behind myself and squeezing my arms around him despite the awkward angle. I’m still in his lap, facing Huck, and I can see how the misery pouring off Silas is affecting my husband. For all his brutish size, Huck’s a big, softhearted bear of a guy. Seeing any living creature in pain brings his protective streak roaring to the surface.

“And we aren’t giving you up now, either,” Huck seethes, as though the very concept of walking away from Silas infuriates him. I get it, because now that I know Silas is interested in the both of us, I’m not giving him up, either.

We did right by our kids, raising them to be amazing adults who know their place in the world and our lives. It’s our turn to find the happiness we’ve searched for in our marriage. Don’t get me wrong, I love Huck more than ever. But we’ve known we wanted a permanent third in our marriage for a very long time. Luckily, we both agree Silas is the one we want.

I want to nurture and support him when the lights are on, then debauch him and introduce him to things even his wild self hasn’t discovered. Things only a woman who truly loves him can offer. I want to watch Huck protect him and stand between Silas and anything that can hurt him, then watch my husband put Si’s body through paces he didn’t know he was capable of. I want so damn much.

“Jameson’s gonna be pissed,” Silas says, burying his face between my shoulders.

“Jameson loves you. Loves us. He’ll accept us.” I’m sure of it.

He may freak out for a bit, but neither Huck nor I are blind to our son’s own preferences. Jameson’s been openly polyamorous and pansexual since he was a teen. If anyone should accept the relationship we want to have, it’d be him. And I know the other kids won’t care. They’re too busy living their own lives to worry about their father and me. As long as our marriage is strong, they won’t blink.

“I still can’t wrap my head around this. You really…” Si pauses, and I feel the tension in his muscles under me. “You really both want me. Not just once. But like, for a while?”

I snuggle against him and watch Huck stand and walk around the tiny table to our side. He cups Si’s cheek and leans over to brush a soft kiss on his lips.

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