The zoo smelled like popcorn, hot pretzels, and summer memories, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t walking through it alone with a too-heavy backpack and a child tugging me in fifteen directions. I had backup. Three unnervingly attractive backup units, to be exact, and though we didn’t want to confuse Daphne with any overt signs of affection like hand-holding, it still felt like having a family. Being complete in a new way. Daphne and I were our own perfect unit, of course, and I never thought there was anything missing in our life before these men showed up and made me want more.
Daphne walked ahead of us once we got through the ticket booth and the main entrance, her pink sun hat flopping with every bounce of her excited little steps. She was practically glowing with eagerness to get going into the day, and I couldn’t blame her.
“So,” Gavin said, hands stuffed in his pockets as he strolled beside me, “what’s the strategy here? We bribed the kid. Do we get graded on interaction now, or?—?”
“You’re doing great so far,” I said dryly, taking in the unserious smirk on his face. “Don’t blow it by thinking too hard about the grade.”
“Noted.”
“Let’s start with the safari animals,” Cade said, checking the map with a surprising amount of focus. “That’s where the giraffes are, and that’s our main event, right, Daphne?”
“Right,” she said.
Daphne reached up and grabbed Cade’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. My breath caught in my throat. Cade looked down at her like he’d just been handed the crown jewels, not a sticky-fingered four-year-old who’d already gotten sunscreen in her eyelashes twice.
A sudden bird call from a nearby enclosure made Daphne jump. She moved closer to Cade, and he didn’t flinch. Just squeezed her hand and said, “That one’s loud. But I think he’s just saying hello.”
“He sounds mad,” she whispered.
“Nah,” Cade said. “He’s just showing off.”
That earned a little giggle from her, and I watched as my usually shy child slid her little hand into Cade’s larger one,making his blue eyes widen in surprise. I could’ve melted on the spot. Instead, I gave an encouraging nod as we approached the giraffes.
As we rounded a bend in the path, the enclosure came into view, and Daphne let out a delighted gasp. “Mommy, look! They’re so tall!” she squealed, grabbing my hand and pulling me eagerly toward the railing. A small herd of giraffes stood in the shade of some tall trees, gracefully tugging leafy branches from a hanging feeder. One of them was much smaller than the others—its legs gangly and a little wobbly as it tried to keep up beside a much larger giraffe I assumed was its mother.
Daphne pointed with wide eyes. “The baby is so big!”
“Pretty tall,” I agreed, ruffling her hair when she took off her hat. We were in the shade here, so I took the hat when she handed it to me. “It’s as tall as Gavin, I think.”
Daphne looked up at Gavin, who smiled at her gently. Still, she darted her eyes away from him, a bit too shy to hold his gaze.I get it, kid. He’s pretty hard to look at for too long.Like the ring of sun during a solar eclipse—dark and light all in one.
“But the Mommy is still bigger,” Daphne reasoned aloud, looking between the majestic, gangly creatures. “They’re like us, Mommy,” Daphne told me when the baby nuzzled against its mother. Her voice was soft and certain, and I felt my chest pull tight as I crouched beside her, taking in the sight. She didn’t wait for me to respond before she kept going, her finger now sweeping toward three adult giraffes lingering near the edge of the group. “Those ones are like your friends. That one is Luca,” she said, pointing to the nearest, “and that’s Gavin, and that’s Cade.”
I looked at the giraffes she meant and smiled. “They are kinda like all of us,” I said. At that moment, one of the other adult giraffes—I didn’t know enough to tell which ones were males or females, but I pictured this one as Cade, its body strongand austere—bent its long neck to nudge the baby with its snout when the little one stumbled awkwardly in the dirt. Another stood nearby, head held high like it was keeping a lookout. None of them pulled focus from the mother, but they weren’t absent either. They were there. Present. Quietly supporting. I felt the sharp sting of tears behind my eyes, so sudden it startled me. I hurried to wipe them away, shove the spontaneous mushiness down. Today was about having fun. It was casual. It should beeasy.
I glanced over my shoulder, searching for each of the guys—Gavin, Luca, and Cade. They weren’t talking, just watching Daphne and me from a few steps back. When our eyes met, one by one, each of them gave me a warm, unguarded smile. The kind that made my heart ache with something dangerously close to longing. I smiled back, hoping they could feel what I was too afraid to say out loud yet:I want this. I want you.
Daphne tugged on my hand, her little attention span running out. She was already bounding toward the next exhibit, resisting my attempts to put her sun hat back on her head. “Come on, the meerkats are next!” she said, practically vibrating with energy. And just like that, we were all moving again.
Gavin seemed to step up to the plate next, showing no hint of nerves. He crouched beside Daphne as they looked into the meerkat exhibit, arms braced on his knees in a way that looked absurdly casual. For such a buttoned-up guy, CEO to his core, he was doing a great job of keeping things low-key today. Still, I could see how invested he was in the mission of the day—getting to know Daphne—by the serious expression on his face.
“You know,” he said to her conspiratorially, “meerkats are actually incredibly good at spy work.”
Daphne tilted her head, intrigued.
“It’s true,” he said. “They’re always on the lookout. Very nosy. Top-tier gossipers. You’d be shocked what they say about the lions.”
Daphne laughed, delighted. “Do they talk to each other?”
“Constantly. Meerkats run their own PR teams.”
“Oh,” she said seriously, clearly weighing this against her existing knowledge of the animal kingdom and what a PR team was. “So they’re like…sneaky?”
“Exactly,” Gavin said, voice solemn. “Never trust a meerkat with a secret.”
Her giggle turned into a full laugh, warm and bright. I nearly leaned against the fence for support. I never thought I could go weak in the knees for a man, and here I was, feeling that way for three of them at once. Gavin was rising to the occasion better than I expected.
Luca, meanwhile, had been drifting around the two of them, clearly waiting for his own moment. Always a good sport, letting his friends take the lead since he had the advantage of having spent time with Daphne and me at his family barbecue. It came a little later, as the afternoon was winding down, when we reached the petting zoo. Daphne hesitated at the gate, wary of the bleating goat pressing its face to the bars.
