He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 84

Scar’s POV

With the shot a faint sting in my arm, I drive to see Hale. I need the solid ground of his presence. He listens, his expression thoughtful as I confirm our dinner plans.

“I don’t know, Scar. Your parents meeting Milo and Jace… it’s a big night. You sure you want me

there?”

“Absolutely. Besides, Mama and Papa are desperate to see you.”

A genuine warmth lights his face. “We spoke. They wanted to drop by earlier, but my schedule was chaos. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Then come. I’m making steak and chicken tacos.”

His grin is instant, transforming his features. “Well, in that case, how could I refuse?” I kiss his stubbled cheek and leave, the ghost of his smile comforting me.

At home, the kitchen becomes a sanctuary of preparation. My mother arrives, filling the space with the sweet, yeasty scent of her rolls. She helps me with the pies, her movements a familiar, calming

rhythm.

Soon, my father joins, and we fall into an easy, communal dance. He commandeers the vegetables for his pico and guacamole. I season and sear the meats. My mother’s hands deftly shape tortilla dough, pressing and cooking until a stack grows, warm and soft.

We are laughing, the air rich with cumin and cilantro, when the front door opens. Milo and Jace step

inside. They halt just within the threshold, two formidable men rendered suddenly awkward in their

own entryway. My heart clenches for them.

I turn off the burner, wipe my hands on a towel, and cross to them. “Hi, my loves.” My voice is bright, a deliberate sunbeam in the tense room. I rise to kiss each of them softly, my lips brushing theirs. I can

feel the nervous energy vibrating from them, a tangible current in the air.

“Jace, Milo,” I say, turning. “These are my parents, Romero and Isadora Joseph. Mama, Papa… these

are my guys.”

My mother approaches first. She stretches onto her toes, takes Milo’s face in her hands, and kisses

him firmly on each cheek. She repeats the gesture with Jace, her smile radiant. “Rome,” she calls, her tone leaving no room for debate. “Come say hello to our sons.”

I startle. The word ‘sons‘ lands with profound weight. She never bestowed it on Brennan. Milo’s smile widens, brilliant and relieved. A faint, rosy blush actually colors Jace’s high cheekbones.

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HEAL

My father exhales a long, mock–suffering sigh. “I didn’t even get a chance to interrogate them, my love. You could have let me have some fun.” He strides over, his grip strong and sure as he shakes their hands. A surge of pure joy floods through me.

“Welcome to the family, boys,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, serious register. “If my wife is calling you her sons, she approves. And if she approves, so do I.” His eyes harden, just for a second. “But know this. If you hurt my little girl, you will regret it.”

“Yes, sir,” they answer together, voices firm, respectful.

The moment is broken by Hale’s arrival. My mother’s face softens, her eyes glistening. She crosses to him and folds him into an embrace that seems to last forever. When she finally pulls back, she cups his face and kisses his cheek. The raw adoration in his gaze is unmistakable. My father steps in next, clasping Hale in a back–thumping hug that speaks of years and unspoken history.

“It’s been too long, brother,” Papa says, the emotion thick in his throat. My mother swipes at a tear.

Milo and Jace flank me, their arms encircling my waist, pulling me into the solid wall of their bodies.

“That was… easier than I anticipated,” Milo whispers, his breath hot against my ear. Jace simply nods.

“I told them how much I love you. The fact that Mama never called Brennan her son? You two just got the official stamp.”

They beam down at me, and their simultaneous kisses on the crown of my head feel like a

benediction.

The evening unfolds in a warm, noisy blur of food and laughter. After we eat, my mother helps me container the leftover pies. Through the kitchen doorway, I watch the men in the living room: my father, my uncle, and my partners. They are leaned in, talking, the room rumbling with deep laughter and the

low murmur of hushed conversations I am intensely curious to overhear.

“Mama,” I venture, my voice quiet as we work. “You’re truly okay with this? With my dynamic?”

“Yes, baby.” She doesn’t look up, sealing a lid with gentle precision. “I heard the happiness in your voice on the phone. And seeing you tonight… I see how they love you. The little touches. The way they served your plate, filled your glass. They dote on you.”

“Kind of like how Papa always finds a reason to brush his hand against your back,” I say softly. “Or how Uncle Hale made your tacos for you tonight and put them on your plate, and Papa just watched with a quiet smile.”

A delicate blush rises on her neck. “Hale is our oldest friend. That’s all.”

“He could be more.” I meet her eyes, holding her gaze. “Mama, you could have what I have. You just

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need to talk to them.”

“No.” She shakes her head, but the denial lacks force. “Your father… he is a possessive man. He doesn’t like other men so much as looking at me.”

“But he has no problem with Hale. None at all. When Hale puts his arm around you, Papa doesn’t glare. He looks… content. Happy, even.”

“You’re mistaken, Scar.”

“I’m not. Just talk to him,”

“And say what?” Her whisper is fierce, edged with a frustration I’ve never heard from her before. “Oh,

darling, do you mind if I ride your best friend while I suck you off?”

I laugh, not at her crudeness, but at the pent–up desire it reveals. “Yes, Mama. Something exactly like

that.”

She pauses, studying me. “How did it begin for you?”

“I went to a club. Club Triad.” The memory is a visceral flash of bass and masked skin. “We were all

wearing masks. I didn’t know it was Milo at first. I’d never met Jace. We had a threesome.” I say it

plainly, watching her face. There is no judgment, only a deep, listening stillness.

“Afterward, Milo spoke. I recognized his voice. He took his mask off, then Jace did. I knew who he was

instantly. They told me they wanted me in their relationship. I took time to think. And then I said yes.” I

reach for her hand. “Why don’t you just tell Papa you’re attracted to Hale? Start there.”

“Alright.” She looks toward the living room, where the men’s voices are a comfortable rumble. “I’ll think

about it.” She finishes the last container and straightens. “Natalie is with her young man. I’m going to

take your father next door. I’ll drag Hale with us, too. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay, Mama. I love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart.”

I kiss my father and Hale goodnight, feeling the scratch of their cheeks against my lips. They shake hands with Jace and Milo, a gesture of firm, masculine respect. My mother approaches my partners

last. She kisses each on the cheek, then pats the other side of their faces with a gentle, proprietary

finality.

“Good boys,” she says.

A giggle escapes me. The sight of their faces–Jace’s stoic pleasure, Milo’s unguarded delight–stays with me long after the door closes behind my family, leaving the three of us alone in the warm, silent

house.