Page 53 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“You’re clearly overwhelmed,” Sebastian says, visibly struggling to find the right words. “Don’t you like this place?”

I nod slowly. “I do. It’s beautiful. I just thought you said we’d rent a chalet or a cabin, so I guess I expected something smaller, more intimate. This definitely isn’t a cabin.”

“No, it’s a private resort renowned for its discretion,” Sebastian replies, and the smile stretching across his gorgeous face tells me he’s quite proud of himself over this find. “I figured we could use all the privacy we could get. They don’t care who we are or where we come from, as long as we provide them with a Black Card.”

“You heard the lady. Discretion and privacy are guaranteed,” Waylan adds.

I point at the building, disappointment burning a hole in my throat. Or maybe it’s the morning sickness. I’m not sure. “But it’s so… high-end. It’s more like a hotel. It’s not quaint and cozy and what a romantic weekend getaway in the snowy mountains is supposed to look like.” I give Waylan a hard look. “Good grief, you guys haven’t listened to a word I said the whole time we’ve been together.”

“Come here,” he laughs and pulls me into a kiss.

Sebastian does the same, and I find myself wedged between them, blushing as I jump from one pair of lips to the other a few times before I remember we’re in a public space.

“Oh, my God!” I shriek and pull away. “Are you insane? What happened to keeping it a secret?”

“That’s the thing,” Sebastian laughs lightly. “Look around you, Cora.”

I do. Slowly but surely, I realize why they’re so thrilled about the Rutger Resort. Nobody gives a shit because everybody here has a secret they want to keep, and this is a place where they can be their true selves. This luxurious getaway is perfect for achieving that. Mixed couples. Men and women, men and men, women and women.

“Oh, wow,” I mumble, noting some of the couples walking across the front terrace, where outdoor heaters rage and waiters serve mulled wine in expensive crystal glasses. “This is…”

“A harem haven,” Sebastian says. “We all sign NDA’s upon booking, and we all have to go through an extensive background check before we’re even accepted. It’s a special place, Cora. I’m sorry it’s not to your liking, aesthetically speaking.”

“But here we can be ourselves as much as we want. Out in the open. And nobody will bat an eye or tell a soul,” Waylan adds.

“How did the resort come to be?” I wonder aloud, now registering the finer details of the structure ahead.

“There are more like us than most people would have you believe,” Sebastian says. “We don’t advertise our way of living and loving, of course, but kindred spirits tend to recognize one another.”

“We heard about Rutger from a like-minded couple. Or, better said, a throuple,” Waylan laughs lightly. “We went through the whole vetting process a while back and secured our reservation.”

“Holy crap,” I manage, my eyes growing wide as something catches my attention.

A woman is kissing her two boyfriends at one of the tables. The others around them smile. Some seem aroused, igniting flames in their own right, multiple partners kissing and exchanging affection. It’s like an infectious wave that overcomes the guests and nobody cares.

It is akin to heaven on earth.

I’m almost ready to forgive the shameless opulence with which the Rutger Resort presents itself as I allow myself a smile andhook my arms around Sebastian’s and Waylan’s. “Alright, I guess I should give this place a chance.”

After we’re shown to our amazing suite and given a tour of the resort, we change into our hiking gear and follow one of the more traveled paths up the mountain. Everything is well lit and heavily secured. I spot cameras and motion sensors everywhere. Security staff is at every milestone, along with ATV riders that go up and down the mountain, hunting rifles on their backs as they patrol the entire perimeter, twenty-four-seven.

“They’re very tight on security and surveillance,” Riggs says, noticing my curiosity as we pass another checkpoint, continuing a slow and steady climb up the western ridge. “Everything is extensively monitored, but at the same time, the suites are completely private, and every staff member here is thoroughly checked and double-checked before they’re hired.”

“I was genuinely impressed by their policies from the very beginning, I’ll be honest,” Sebastian says. “I thought it was some kind of utopia.”

“It is, if you think about,” I reply, my breath getting shorter.

It’s not the steepest climb, but it’s still moderate cardio. My thighs and calves burn a little, and we’re moving at a decent pace. The sun is shining, though it will soon begin its descent. The skies are beautiful, the purest blue I’ve seen in a long time, while the air is icy cold and wonderfully fresh, making every lungful feel almost painful in the best possible way.

Ancient pines rise proudly on both sides of the wide, sinuous trail, their long shadows reaching for our boots. But we keep moving, talking and laughing, enjoying the view and what I feel is one hell of an experience.

“It’s been a while since I left Madison,” I tell the guys. “Thank you for this.”

“Sorry for the heap of luxury,” Waylan replies with a playful smile. “We took a chance for the sake of absolute privacy.”

“I get it,” I laugh. “You wanted to show me that we could be together without any fear of discovery or repercussions. We can’t move here, though. Right?”

“Polygamy is still a touchy issue,” Riggs says. “The best they can do here at Rutger is keep everything on the down low and the champagne on ice, so to speak. We handle the rest ourselves and enjoy every minute together.”

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