Santa’s Pucking Hat Trick (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)

35. Rachel

35

RACHEL

T he Christmas charity gala was here at last, and it was everything my mother had envisioned. More, even. The grand ballroom sparkled with twinkling lights, elegant garlands draped across every archway, and Christmas music hummed softly through the throngs of guests. Rich benefactors in luxurious gowns and tailored suits clinked champagne glasses and chatted animatedly beneath the glittering chandeliers. It was the pinnacle of Paula Henning’s year-long efforts, and even my cynical ass wasn’t immune to the sense of wonder she’d crafted so skillfully.

My fingers traced the lace detail of my gown—a deep emerald green that shimmered as I moved. It was a miracle that it still fit despite my now slightly rounded belly, but luckily the satiny material underneath had a little bit of give. It wasn’t obvious that I was showing yet—not to most people—but I knew. And Bria knew too. I could feel her eyes on me from across the room, struggling to keep this secret with me.

She was probably waiting for me to come clean. She’d been patient these last few weeks, dropping hints that I needed to tell the guys, tell my family, sooner rather than later. I knew I needed to, of course. I couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Still, my stomach clenched at the thought of sharing this with anyone, having to witness the reactions of everyone I cared about, having to explain to them that I was keeping this baby despite all the reasons I had not to. Besides, I had to tell them—but how ? I couldn’t exactly reveal it with a cute Instagram-worthy announcement, and other than with sex, the guys and I hadn’t done a lot of practicing when it came to having frank, difficult conversations. The weight of the secret was growing every minute, just like the baby inside me, and now, standing here, it felt heavier than ever.

I glanced around the room, trying to distract myself. The children’s area was set up in the far corner, where a group of excited kids waited in line to meet Santa. This one, mercifully, seemed sober and jolly as Saint Nick should be. Their giggles and squeals echoed through the ballroom, and I felt another wave of emotion hit me. Soon, I’d have my own child. I could picture myself standing in line, holding a little girl’s hand, comforting her as she worried about meeting Santa. The thought was terrifying, but tender. A mess of contradictions, just like a child would be.

“How are you holding up, sweetie?” Bria’s voice cut through my thoughts as she appeared beside me. “Feeling okay?”

“I’m alright,” I said, forcing a smile and placing a hand absentmindedly on my stomach. I’d been queasy off and on, but mercifully, there was no nausea right now. “Just…taking it all in.”

“You look stunning, you know that?” she said, her eyes flicking to my stomach. “No one can tell a thing, but you are glowing.”

I let out a nervous laugh, grateful for her reassurance, even though the anxiety gnawed at me. “Thanks. Let’s just hope no one says anything about the glow before I’m ready to talk about it. I think I’d have a panic attack, honestly.”

As if summoned by my slowly spiraling thoughts, I spotted Sawyer, Roman, and Wes approaching from across the room, each of them impossibly handsome in their suits. Sawyer’s was a green velvet that matched the color of my dress unintentionally and looked incredible with the red of his hair; Wes wore classic black that fit him like a glove; Roman stood out in a festive burgundy, the silky black shirt he wore underneath dipping low enough to reveal some of his gorgeous ink. My heart raced, then settled a little as each of their eyes lit up when they saw me. I heard Bria mutter something about getting us drinks as she slunk off, leaving me to greet the guys on my own.

God, I was so lucky, so clearly cherished by the three men I didn’t choose to fall for. But now, my secret could fuck this all up.

“There she is,” Sawyer said with a slow grin, moving in to press a kiss to my cheek. His eyes roamed over me with appreciation as he pulled back, as if seeing me for the first time all over again.

“You look incredible, baby,” Roman added, his gaze lingering on mine with an intensity that made my heart race even faster.

Wes, the quietest of the three, stepped forward and kissed my other cheek gently, whispering a simple—“Gorgeous”—in my ear as he did. His blue eyes were a little concerned as he pulled back, though, and he was the first to ask, “You okay?”

I swallowed, trying to brush off the tension knotting in my stomach, hoping all this stress wouldn’t get to the baby. “Yeah! Yeah. I’m, uh, great.”

Roman raised a dark brow. “We haven’t heard from you. Like you’re avoiding us.”

“Sorry,” I winced. “Um, just a lot going on with the gala. You know how these things are.” What a lame excuse. I knew they’d see right through it.

“Hmm,” Wes murmured, not entirely convinced, but before he could push further, Bria reappeared, holding two champagne flutes. “One for you, one for me,” she smiled. “Cheers to surviving another year of holiday madness.”

She started to hand me a glass, but then paused, her eyes flicking between the two. “Wait, which one…?” She frowned, taking a sip from one before handing me the other. “There we go. Cider for you.”

I froze, the glass halfway to my lips. My heart dropped as I realized what had just happened. Wes, Sawyer, and Roman all exchanged looks, their expressions shifting from casual to confused, then to something darker as the pieces clicked into place.

“Something wrong?” Sawyer asked, his voice low and careful.

Roman’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flashing across his face. “You’re not drinking?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. The panic rose in my throat like a wave crashing over me, drowning me even in the shallows. I glanced at Bria, who had already drifted away, blissfully unaware of the storm she’d just triggered.

“Rachel,” Wes said softly, his gaze piercing through me. I could sense his panic, or maybe it was just my own—I was panicking for two, after all. “What’s going on?”

“I…” Jesus, this was stressful. Maybe if I’d been able to play it off right away, if they hadn’t already seen the fear of God on my face, this wouldn’t have to be the time. But they each looked like they already knew on some level, and I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I felt my eyes fill with tears, my chest tightening as I looked at each of them in turn. “I’m sorry. I…I’ve been avoiding you all because I have a secret.”

“A secret,” Wes repeated, blinking. I nodded, then looked at Sawyer, whose face was hard as stone.

“I’m … I’m pregnant.”

The word hung in the air like a bomb, detonating the fragile balance between us. Roman’s face twisted with disbelief, Wes’s eyes widened in shock, and Sawyer’s face remained blank. I took a step back, feeling my heart race like I was running. Part of me wished that I was.

They were so quiet. Playing against type, I felt myself scrambling to fill the silence. “I—I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to scare you off, and I didn’t even know how you’d feel about it. About…about me. Us.”

Sawyer clenched his jaw, his eyes burning into mine. “Jesus Christ, Rachel.”

“I know,” I whispered. “This…this wasn’t the plan.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Roman repeated, half laughing without an ounce of humor. His green gaze locked onto mine, and he took a step forward, a hand outstretched. He let it drop before he reached for me, though. It was devastating. I wanted him to touch me, to pull me into his arms and tell me everything would be okay. But instead, he asked “What…are you sure ?”

I wiped at my eyes, hating the tears that streamed down my face. “Yeah, Roman. I’m sure.” My hand fell to my lightly rounded abdomen, and I felt three pairs of eyes snap onto it too. Sawyer’s eyes grew wide, but he was still speechless. Wes spoke up next.

“How long have you known?”

“A little while,” I told him. All of their faces, as different as they each were, seemed to ask the question I didn’t want to answer, the unspoken why didn’t you say something before? Why didn’t you trust us enough to tell us?

Maybe even why did you decide to keep it?

“I’m sorry for…for hiding it,” I told them quietly. They’d closed in around me so that despite the party still continuing around us as normal, they could hear every word. “I didn’t want to…I don’t know. Trap any of you. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Wes, always the quietest of the three, finally spoke, his voice tight. “Do you know which one?”

The question hit me like a punch to the gut, and I gasped, my vision blurring with fresh tears. He was asking about paternity, and I saw the same question dawn on Roman and Sawyer at the same time. When I finally gathered the courage to speak, my voice was barely a whisper. “It…it could be any of you. I’m sorry.”

Roman let out a bitter laugh, his fists clenched at his sides. “So that’s it? We’re all just supposed to what—stick around and hope we’re the lucky one?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” I cried, my hands trembling. “None of you are obligated to me, okay? I can do it on my own.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Roman shook his head, his expression a mix of rage and betrayal. “You don’t even trust us enough to tell us? And now you’re giving us some kind of out? Like we’re not capable of being there for you?”

Sawyer cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “We thought we were building something real here.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I didn’t know what to do. I…I still don’t know what to do. How I even feel.”

Without another word, the three of them turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, shattered and alone.

I wandered through the glittering gala, numb to the sounds of laughter and holiday cheer around me. I needed to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to cry where no one would see me fall apart. But before I could escape, Michael found me. His familiar face softened when he saw the tears streaking down my cheeks.

“Rach?” His voice was gentle as he guided me to a quiet corner. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

I hesitated, but the dam inside me broke, and everything spilled out. “You won’t like it, but I’m pregnant, Michael. And I don’t know who the father is, and I think I’ve ruined everything with—with the guys. Your friends. Your teammates.”

Michael’s eyes widened, but instead of the anger I expected, he pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Rach…”

I sobbed into his shoulder, letting it all out—the fear, the guilt, the heartbreak. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

He stroked my hair, his voice soft. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. They just need time to process it. And I’m here, no matter what.”

I pulled back, wiping my eyes. “You’re not mad?”

Michael gave me a small smile. “I mean, it’s a lot to take in, but…I’ve known something was going on with you three for a while now. I just wish you’d told me instead of letting me figure it out from other people.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He sighed, but his smile didn’t fade. “I just want you to be happy, Rach. Even if it’s with my best friends.”

I could hardly believe the maturity my goofy, sweet, ever-present twin was showing. Especially after I’d royally fucked everything—no pun intended. Before I could express my gratitude, though, Michael piped up with another, more in-character thought.

“And hey, if this kid is a boy, I think you should name him Michael. You know, in exchange for the psychological damage you’ve caused me by boinking my friends.”

I let out a teary laugh, my heart breaking and healing all at once. Maybe I hadn’t ruined everything after all. I always had my family, and now, I had a new family member on the way.

I’d never thought of myself as particularly maternal, but knowing I was pregnant…hell, it was a whole new scenario I’d never taken the time to consider despite my tendency to plan and replan and overplan every aspect of my future. Family felt like something that happened to me, not something I chose to make. That love, that blood bond, had always been important to me, and it snapped into place without giving me a moment to think. This was my baby. A brand new life. More than that, it was a life I was building myself—and it was half Sawyer, Wes, and Roman too.

Not biologically, of course. I was a marketing director, not a geneticist, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that all three of the guys could have gotten me pregnant at once. But from the second I’d found out about the baby, I wasn’t the slightest bit worried about who had fathered them; in my heart, stupid and now broken as it was, this baby was ours. All four of us.

This Christmas, it seemed, was going to be a lot more complicated than I had ever imagined.