The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) Nikki Sloane (sight word books TXT) 📖

“The three of us start a relationship together. Everyone is equal, no one person gets to make the rules.” He stared deep into my eyes like he was pleading with my soul, even though he was asking for the very thing I wanted. “We all love each other, and we all want this to work.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “So far this plan is good. Fully on board with it.”

He laughed, then turned serious. “The next step is Travis moves in here.”

My mind skidded to a stop. “What? In your house?”

“I bought this place as an investment. The plan is to renovate and eventually sell it for a profit, but there’s a lot of space. More than enough room for him. He’d have the whole second floor to himself. He’d be closer to his work here, plus . . . he’d be a lot closer to us.”

Having both men right next door sounded amazing, but . . . “Do you think he’d go for it?”

“He was interested when I asked him, but said it depends on how you feel about it.”

Holy cow, he’d already asked him.

And Travis was considering it. I had to control myself and not get my hopes up, just as another thought stormed into my mind. “Wait a minute. Clay, this is your home. Your,” I struggled to find the right words, “sanctuary. What about having your own space to escape to?”

He shrugged. “I have my workshop. It’s where I spend most of my time when I’m home.” His hand tangled with mine, lacing our fingers together. “Our schedules are a challenge. This will make it so we can see more of each other. It’ll improve communication. The longer I’m around you, the easier it is for me to open up. If I start sliding or don’t know how to share what I’m feeling,” he took an uneven breath, “Travis is there to help.”

Oh, my God. He was taking up Travis’s offer to help him emotionally, and I fucking loved that. They’d mentor each other in different areas of their life.

There was a soft thump as Noir jumped down off her perch and hurried toward us on the couch, distracting me. She rarely came to me on her own; most times she had to be enticed. I watched with surprise as she leapt up onto the cushion and flopped down . . .

Right in Clay’s lap.

“What’s this?” I demanded. “Do you have catnip in your pocket or something?”

He looked at me like I was speaking gibberish. “What?”

“She hardly ever sits on my lap.”

“Really?” He sounded dubious as he stroked her back. She curled into a tight ball with her belly exposed and stretched an arm over her eyes. “She, uh, sits on me a lot. Kind of whenever I sit down.”

My mouth dropped open while I stared at our traitorous cat. “Oh, my God. She likes you more than me.” I leaned over and rubbed her cheek. “I guess I can’t blame her. Me and this cat have a lot in common.”

He looked confused. “Such as?”

“She forced her way into your house, and I forced my way into your heart.”

He smiled like I was being silly. “I’d tell you you’re wrong and you can’t force me to do anything,” his gaze deepened with a love I wouldn’t have thought possible, “but the truth is I’d do anything for you. I mean it. If, down the road, you and Travis need me to step aside—I’ll do it. I’ll go with the satisfaction that at least I brought the two of you together.”

Now it was my turn to look at him like he was being silly. “You’re the architect of this relationship, Clay. You built this, the three of us together. You’re so good at turning everything you make into working art. I can’t wait to see what we become.”

“Fuck,” he said, blinking back the unexpected emotion I’d caused in him.

“Take off your glasses.”

“What?” This was yet another unexpected thing to come from me, and he looked confused. “Why?”

“Because you said you’d do anything for me, and right now, I don’t want anything between us.”

He liked what I’d said, so he pulled them off and set them on the cushion beside himself. His tone was teasing as he gently evicted Noir from his lap. “You know they help me see, right?”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to get closer,” I whispered.

Travis gave his landlord notice, and in early December, during an unseasonably warm weekend, we loaded Clay’s truck with a batch of things to start moving Travis in. The guys gave me shit about wearing heels while carrying boxes into the house, but I just laughed.

I hoped to still be wearing them and nothing else later when we went downstairs to celebrate having both my boyfriends so close.

All that was left were the big, heavy pieces, so I stood back and admired the view of the men as they grappled with an enormous headboard. It had their arm muscles tensing and twisting beneath their t-shirts in the most delicious way.

Out of the corner of my eye, a woman dressed in black appeared down the road and walked swiftly our direction. I turned to see it was Judy Maligner, the head of the HOA. Maybe she was out on a power walk, but I suspected that was just an excuse so she could keep tabs. She was wearing athletic clothes, but they were contoured to her perfectly trim body, flaunting her figure, and I tried to remember when I’d seen her in anything else.

Also, she had on a full face of makeup. Who did that?

“Hi, Lilith!” She was slightly winded from her fast stride, and it made her sound breathlessly excited. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Ms. Malinger.”

“Oh, please, honey.” She gave me a smile that managed to chide. “Call me Judy. I’m not that much older than you.”

Had math changed recently? Because she was in her fifties, which meant she was twice my age. I plastered on a polite smile and kept the math to