Axes & O’s

44. Morgan

Chapter 44

Morgan

“You smell like cedar,” I murmur into Fox’s neck as he sways me around the living room, Etta James’s “At Last” playing over the speakers.

“Only because that New Year’s Eve blowjob in the sauna you gave me lasted so long.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Fox nips at my ear. “You’re the one who keeps giving me sass. I had to shut you up somehow.”

I pull back from him, arms still looped around his waist as I glare at him. “Do I need to cash in on my Christmas gift?”

Fox groans. “I should’ve thought about that harder, maybe put a time limit on it.”

“It’s been six days.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Six days since he gave me my little gift, but more importantly, six days since Nathan walked out of our cabin.

Fox tucks a hair behind my ear. “What are you thinking?”

“That I miss him.”

“I do, too.” Fox tugs me back into him, placing his chin on top of my head.

We sway to the next slow song as I try to fight the tears that sting my eyes. Nathan asked for time, so we’re giving it to him. I understood why he needed it, especially after overhearing part of my conversation with Fox. But I wish he could’ve stayed. When he stood in the doorway, back in his corporate clothes, it felt so wrong. But I kissed him goodbye, and then he left.

I’ve texted him to make sure he was okay, but that’s been it. And with every day that passes, I can’t help but feel as if we’ve made a huge mistake in letting him walk out the door. Because unlike our last relationship, where we knew it was time to let go, Nathan is different. He’s been different from the moment we met him.

Our wolf.

Fox brushes his hand down my hair. “I’m sorry, Morgan.”

I stop dancing and pull back, looking up into the blue eyes of my beautiful husband who’s afraid to fully give his heart to someone new. “What for, baby?”

“Had I just listened to you in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t be hurting.”

I want to say he’s hurting, too, but I know that won’t help anything. “Had you listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t have had the weekend we did with Nathan. You were right to follow your gut, Fox. And you did listen to me; you let him set the pace. Everything we did was because we all wanted it. Because it felt right.”

“But had I not fucked it up—”

“Fox,” I interrupt him. “I won’t have you beating yourself up. You told him why you said what you said, and he asked for time.”

“And what if, during that time, he figures out he doesn’t want us?”

“Then we have each other.”

He leans down and rests his forehead against mine while my hands grip his biceps. He kisses my nose then my lips, so gentle for a man who looks anything but.

When he pulls back, I see the worry in his eyes and how they miss the spark both of us had when Nathan was here. Yes, we have each other, and yes, that would be enough, but having Nathan? He completes us. He makes us whole. Or at least, that’s what I hope.

“We should go to him,” Fox says suddenly .

“What?”

He tugs my hand toward the mudroom, and I let out a huff of laughter.

“Maybe he’ll turn us down, but we should show him that this is what we want. That he does belong here.”

I stare, stunned at Fox’s words while he puts my coat on for me before grabbing his. I feel like I’m in a dream, because never once has he wanted to chase someone who walked away. And now I see I haven’t ever wanted to, either. But for Nathan?

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“As sure as I am in my love for you.”

My heart expands like the grinch—three whole sizes—and I get up on my toes to kiss his lips. Just as we part, the doorbell rings, and we’re back to staring at each other.

“You don’t think…?” I ask.

Fox smiles, the same smile that Nathan called beautiful. My lips tip up, and Fox takes my hand, my coat still on as we hurry toward the door. I suck in a breath as he opens it, afraid that it won’t be who we want on the other side.

But when my eyes meet earthy brown ones, my stomach fills with butterflies.

Nathan looks me up and down. “Were you leaving?”

I let out a happy laugh. “We were coming to get you!”

“You were?” He pushes some of his floppy hair off his forehead, his boyish smile wider.

He’s shaved since he left, the angles of his jaw more prominent without the scuff he’d been building up. While I kind of miss it, I also like this. It’s the Nathan we first found in the snowbank, sans his work clothes. Instead, he wears jeans and his coat with a pair of boots.

“Let him in, Morgan.”

Nathan’s eyes connect with Fox at his command, and their stares hold. I let them have their moment, two men who are so different yet have found a likeness in each other. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand, but I’m okay with that. Just like someone could never fully understand the history Fox and I share.

“Please, come in,” I say.

Nathan’s gaze falls back to mine, and then he comes in from the cold evening. When the door closes, Fox steps forward, and Nathan looks up at him. While I expect him to look unsure or ask Fox what he’s doing, he doesn’t say anything.

“May I?” Fox asks as he lifts his hands toward Nathan’s coat zipper.

The air in the room tenses like a tightrope, and Nathan licks his lips before nodding. I stand there as Fox’s inked hands gently lower the zipper. The sound of the teeth clicking downward followed by the swoosh of material lowering fills the space. I take the bag from Nathan’s hand and set it on the ground so Fox can fully remove his coat before putting it on the hook next to us. Then he does the same for me—removing my coat before giving his attention back to Nathan.

“Hi,” Nathan says. His voice is husky and hoarse, as if Fox’s gentle action made him emotional.

Fox smiles in response, the smile that Nathan needed to see.

Time around us freezes as Nathan’s eyes widen, and slowly, a smile to match my husband’s tips at his lips. Then he lifts a tentative hand and delicately runs his fingers over Fox’s beard.

“You’re beautiful when you smile,” he says.

Fox leans into his touch, and his eyes close. Tears sting my own as I observe them, a moment I know I’ll remember forever. My husband, my home, letting himself find solace in someone the way he does me, even if only for a moment. I know our relationship is going to take time. It’s new, we’re going to have hiccups, and we still don’t know what Nathan wants from this.

“Morgan.”

I blink my teary eyes as Nathan’s free hand reaches for mine. I grip his palm, his hands still cool from the winter evening.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“You’re here” is all I can say .

“I’m here, baby.”

My stomach flips at his endearment, and then he surprises Fox by moving his palm from my husband’s cheek to take his hand. I can’t remember the last time Fox held anyone’s hand but mine. But after a moment, Fox relaxes into it, his gaze shifting between me and Nathan as we stand there, all connected.

Nathan brings my knuckles to his lips and gently kisses them. “You were both going to come get me,” he states with a grin. “What happened to giving me time?”

“Time was up,” Fox quips, his eyes now clear and shoulders broad.

Both Nathan and I smile at each other, and he squeezes my hand.

“What Fox means is that we wanted you to know that we missed you. That something’s missing without you. That the cabin hasn’t felt right since you left.”

Nathan sucks in a breath. “You mean that?”

“We do,” Fox says.

“We definitely do,” I reiterate.

Nathan’s eyes bounce between the two of us, and he grips our hands. “Good to know.”

I bark out a laugh at the cheekiness of it then throw my arms around him. It catches Nathan off guard, and he almost stumbles back, but Fox keeps him steady, Nathan’s hand still in his.

“Does this mean you want to try this with us?” I ask against his ear.

He rubs my back, his body relaxing into mine. “If you’ll have me.”

“You know the answer is yes.”

“We have a lot to talk about, and we need to figure out how this will all work. I don’t even live here—”

I cut him off with a kiss, one that’s steady and sure. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s take it day by day. ”

Nathan tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and nods. “Okay.” He pulls back just a bit so we can look at Fox. “Fox, I—”

Fox steps forward and cuts him off with his own lips. The kiss is demanding, devouring, one that makes my knees weak. A shiver runs down my spine, and I’m not even the one being kissed. But I know that kiss, and I know what it means for Fox. He’s giving Nathan his all if he’ll accept it.

When he finally pulls back, they’re both panting, and Nathan is squeezing my hand so tightly I think the circulation is being cut off.

“You belong here, Nathan,” Fox states, brooking no argument.

“Are you—”

“Don’t ask me if I’m sure, little wolf. You already know the answer.”

Nathan’s spine straightens, and color blooms on his cheeks, though there’s still a bit of hesitancy in his eyes. I understand why, but I want to show him that he can trust us. He can trust that Fox and I want to try this with him.

An idea sparks in my mind, and I tug on Fox’s hand. When his attention is on me, I get up on my toes and put my lips to his ear, whispering what I want, what I think we all need.

His shoulders stiffen, but after a long breath, he relaxes, pulling back with vulnerability but agreement in his blue gaze. “I’m yours,” he says.

Then my husband drops to his knees.

“And yours, Nathan.”