Page 111 of The All-Inclusive

“Guess I shouldn’t be, huh?” He chuckles. “There’s something about all three of us that just seems to fit.”

“I love it.” Sara leans in to admire the band on my finger. “Looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” I rotate my hand, admiring the thick, chunky band. “Do you already have Trent’s wedding band picked?”

“We did.” Sara glances at him. “But nothing’s carved in stone. If you’d like to trade it in for something different, I’m not attached to our original vision.”

“Neither am I.” Trent smiles as his gaze shifts to mine. “We’ll talk about it later, ‘k?”

“Later,” I agree, still kind of in awe that he’s thinking like this. That he’s taken these steps to claim not just Sara, but me. Swallowing hard, I struggle to keep my voice steady. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I don’t want you ever to feel like a third wheel,” he tells me. “Just because Sara and I met first doesn’t make you any less a part of this.”

My throat starts to tingle and I might fucking cry if someone doesn’t make a dick joke soon. “Thanks, man. I love it.”

“And I love you.” He pulls us both close, his right hand on Sara, his left one curving over my shoulder. “Both of you.”

“I love you, too.” I kiss Trent first. It’s tender and cool and feels like the start of something brand new.

“Sara.” I kiss her next, tasting passion fruit seltzer and sweetness. Her tongue brushes mine and our kiss goes on much longer than I meant it to.

By the time we draw back, my dick’s getting hard again. I’m game for round two, but I can’t leave Trent as the only one not getting a gift here. I hop off the bed and head for the kitchen where I stashed something special this morning. I had hopes we’d all end up back here, so I planned ahead for this moment.

Well, not this moment exactly.

My gift pales in comparison to a ring. I still can’t get over how perfect that is. “I have something for you guys, too.” I pull out the little brown baggie from a cupboard and return to the bed where they’re waiting.

“What is it?” Sara watches me open the bag. “Treats?”

“Yep.” I pull out the first one, a plump, squishySthat I hand her. “Homemade marshmallows,” I explain. “The café chef makes them from scratch. I think they’re meant for hot cocoa.”

Trent watches her gasp with delight. “Who drinks cocoa in the tropics?”

“Beats me.” I fish into the bag and pull out theT. “Here’s yours, though.”

“I get a marshmallow?” For a badass SEAL, he looks pretty thrilled about that. “Thanks, dude.”

“No sweat.” I pull out myL, setting the bag on the nightstand. “Shall we toast?”

Sara tilts her head. “With marshmallows?”

“Why the hell not?” I hold up my own squishy letter. Trent does the same, touching the arm of hisTto the base of myL. Sara joins in, her sweet, curvySthe perfect companion to our stiff-armed letters.

“To us,” I announce.

“To us.” Grinning, he bites off the tip of hisT. “Tasty.”

I take a bite of myL. “It’s good.”

Trent looks at Sara. “Come on, babe. Your turn.”

“It’s so pretty.” She surveys herSwith an uncertain smile. “Maybe I want to save it.”

“No more saving things.” Trent grins. “From now on, we enjoy what we want in our own time.”

“Besides,” I assure her, “there’s more where that came from.”

“Okay.” She stuffs the whole thing in her mouth, giggling as she gobbles her marshmallow. “I think I’m going to enjoy our new life.”

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