As she’d put it the first night in the Denver hotel room, she was the example and everyone would be looking at her differently. There would be those who judged, who criticized her and our marriage. They’d probably even think her a whore for bedding two men. But it was our job to shelter her from this, to protect her not only from her troubles, like the bastard Carl Norman, but from the troubles that fell on my shoulders, and Walker’s too.
We just had to hope that the transition would be smooth. Not only was I the mayor, I had a mine to run and couldn’t remain at home forever.
“Are you worried what people will think?” Celia asked, scooping fried potatoes into a bowl.
I saw the worry on her face.
“I worry what people will think about you,” Walker said, taking the bowl from her and putting it on the table. “But we won’t hide, doll. We won’t hide what we share. I think it’s pretty special, don’t you?”
She blushed then, but nodded.
“He’s not talking about how we both fuck you, sweetheart.”
“We’ll hide everything about how we share you,” I added, my possessiveness making me almost growl. “That’s private. No one sees you the way we do. No one.”
“Especially like earlier when you had the plug in your ass.”
She flushed an even brighter shade of red and turned back to the stove. I imagined the way the plug had parted her ass cheeks so prettily just a short time ago and I had to shift my cock in my pants. It had instantly become hard. Hell, I was always hard for her. She took the larger size well now, even fucking her with it deep inside her. It would be soon when we took her together, that we were truly joined as one.
“Luke is insatiable,” Walker said, smiling and shaking his head. “I meant our marriage, doll, is special. What we have, this connection, is unique whether there are two grooms or one. I won’t let anyone diminish that.”
Celia’s look went soft and her smile a bit wistful at his words. I agreed with Walker wholeheartedly.
“All right,” she replied, then paused as she stared blankly at the table. “Do you think… do you think Carl made it into town?”
When she turned her head to me, I saw the worry in her eyes.
“I can’t say if the pass is closed now. The snow was bad up there when we came through, but it could have stopped.”
I wanted to ease her fears, but couldn’t.
“A stranger can’t go unnoticed in a town of our size, doll. If he’s here, we’ll find him.”
Walker walked by Celia and squeezed her shoulder.
“We’ll find out if the pass is closed and if anyone’s seen him from those who call today.”
“You really think people are that interested in our marriage?” she wondered, sitting down at the table.
I glanced at Walker and he grinned.
We did have callers, just as the men had expected. First, Mr. Bernard from next door, who was in his sixties as Walker had said. While quite fit, his hands were gnarled from rheumatism and I imagined it was difficult for him to complete some tasks. I was glad to hear Walker had stopped to offer him some help. He’d been kind, yet curious about me, but had not stayed long. Then came the Johnsons, the Rands and then a small group from church. While no one said anything to me outright besides town news—the pass was indeed closed—I had no doubt when they walked back down the street, hats low on their heads against the cold weather, they whispered about me.
It was nothing I wasn’t used to. The last few weeks I was in Texas, the whispers and looks had been unbearable. I’d had no one to shelter me as I did now. Both Luke and Walker remained with me the entire time, not leaving me alone once.
It was another couple who came up the walk that made Luke curse beneath his breath. I didn’t know why he dreaded opening the door; I just sensed that he did.
Luke let them in, but with much less warmth than with the others. He was a small, rotund man of similar age to Luke and Walker. What hair he did have on his head—he was mostly bald—was fair. The way he stared at me with beady little eyes, suspiciously and with dislike, made me wary. While the others who had come to call had been curious, they’d also been kind. This man didn’t seem to be kind at all. His wife was even smaller than he, her eyes downcast and her shoulders curled in.
“Thomkins, may we introduce you to our wife, Celia?”
“How do you do?” he replied. “My wife, Agnes.”
Agnes offered me a peek at her eyes and a faint smile before she looked at the floor again. I thought her shy until her husband spoke. “Agnes has been curious how your marriage would be consummated.”