Page 130 of Finding Their Place

“Yeah, well I have a better label for the two of you than that,” I tossed out, grasping her ass and swinging her around in front of me so I was the one in the middle. “You’re both mine.”

“Damn right,” Wyatt murmured, reaching around me to palm her other ass cheek.

Haley melted into me, her heart in her eyes. “It’s about damn time.”

43

One Year Later

Haley

My father walked me up the aisle—or rather, held my elbow as we ambled barefoot through warm sand.

It had taken countless hours of therapy and tears for him and I to find understanding and forgiveness. Like I’d considered at my rock bottom all those months ago, I learned his own mother had been a narcissist who wrestled with psychosis.

Enough said.

We worked daily to create a relationship between us that we had missed out on, and just having him by my side on my wedding day made me realize we had done a good job of growing beyond our past trauma.

Flowers wove through my unbound hair rather than sitting in my hands, and I wore a simple gauzy white dress that fluttered around my knees in the ocean breeze.

River had picked it out for me. Perhaps a bit more bohemian than I’d have chosen, but it fit the venue. The men didn’t care one way or the other where our wedding took place—they just wanted shit set in ink and vowed out loud.

The mortar between the pavers of our lives we’d set to lead us forward in life.

A handful of people stood as witnesses on either side of the path I traversed through the sand, but my focus stayed on the two waiting for me.

Wyatt to my right.

Garrett on the left.

Both watched me with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes, and my own hazed over from the well of happiness filled to its brim.

It had been a long year full of ups and downs, misunderstandings, and attempts to not choose sides, but we made our polyamorous relationship work. We put in the hours, honored our dedication to always be truthful with each other, and I finally got the wedding I’d dreamed about but never hoped to have.

The Justice of the Peace we’d hired for our late afternoon ceremony behind Greyson, Blaine, and Lily’s house had agreed to our strange request for three sets of vows even though only two could legally be on the marriage certificate.

My father kissed my cheek before handing me over to Wyatt and Garrett. He left us to settle beside my soon-to-be in-laws. Lionel and Tina had also claimed Garrett as a son. Me? I was their only daughter, thoroughly adored and spoiled rotten with motherly and fatherly love I soaked up like a sponge whenever given the opportunity.

Wyatt and Garrett threaded their fingers through mine, stepping in close so they could hold each other’s against the small of my back.

Our friends and meager families hovered behind us, listening as the three of us exchanged promises to honor, love, and protect the ones we stood beside.

I refused to cry even as Tina sniffled behind me.

We had to separate to exchange rings, double bands that would be fused together the following day before we left for our honeymoon. Grey, Blaine, and Lily had gifted us a two-week vacation in Aruba, and I couldn’t wait to escape for some much-needed rest after our busy summer.

Lionel’s Landscaping had hired another crew and outfitted them to the nines in order to fulfill all our contracts.

Business was good, Wyatt claimed, because he had me at the helm and Garrett by his side. A dream team, he often called the three of us, and we were in every way.

We shared an awkward kiss as we often attempted in the privacy of our home and ended up in laughter along with our friends and family.

Our fingers entwined, we turned to accept congratulations and hugs.

Lily was the first to throw her arms around me, squealing and laughing. Her two men shook hands with mine, offering back slaps. The four had been forced to bond, and more often than not when we got together, they disappeared into a man cave to watch whatever sports was in season—if that was what it was called. Lily and I shared a bottle of wine, not even bothering to try to understand talk about pucks, balls, or bats.

It was enough to just snuggle with her and watch our lovers laugh, bullshit, and rib each other.

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