Bedfellows Read online

  I'd only been in their company for a matter of minutes, and already they had me so twisted up, I didn't know which way was up.

  “I'm sorry, no.” I fiddled with the straw in my margarita, fingers trembling. I'd only known them for thirty minutes—and we’d met under less-than-ideal circumstances—but they had me more frazzled than a priest in a strip club.

  “Can I ask why?” Sullivan asked.

  “You aren't attracted to us?” Will asked. He'd only taken a few bites of his food, seemingly more interested in studying me and each of my reactions to them. I could honestly say I'd never met a man like him before. My ex was interested in just about anything but sitting and talking to me—scarfing down his food, playing with his phone, those damn video games he loved. And Will was … simply different.

  If I wasn't so thrown off, and slightly intrigued, maybe I could have thought it through more clearly, achieved a more articulate response to their question. But the fact was, I was overwhelmed by the very idea of them and their proposition. Had I had more time to think about what they were asking, I’d be overflowing with questions like why me? What do you mean, go out with both of you? At the same time? Separately but date them both? Obviously they want to have sex but does that mean with both of them, at the same time, or with one watching, or, … There were way too many pieces in the Will and Sullivan puzzle, it had my brain glitching.

  I had to admit to myself, though, that of course, I was interested. They were both physically beautiful, each in their own way. But I was a simple girl and these types of relationships and all that it would or could entail didn't exist in my reality. Period.

  I took a deep breath, sure my cheeks were now flushed. “I just … two men? No. I can't.”

  I might have seemed easy-going and up for anything, but deep down, I just wasn't built that way. I'd grown up in a strict, southern Baptist family in the heart of Texas. I'd left all that behind, but somewhere deep down inside of me, I was still very much a traditional girl—a one man, one woman, till death do us part—kind of girl.

  Not that they were proposing marriage. Get a grip, Adrienne. They weren't proposing anything more than one night of fun between the sheets. But even that was too much for me. I'd never had a one-night stand in my entire life, and I wasn't about to start now. And certainly not with two men.

  Were they just proposing one night? My head and my emotions were all over the place right now.

  Sullivan held up his hands. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just … you're beautiful. I read things wrong between us. I thought maybe you'd be interested.”

  “In what? Sharing your bed for the night? I'm sorry, that's not me.”

  Will shook his head. “We don't do the one-and-done thing.”

  At this, my interest picked up. “What do you mean?”

  Sullivan continued. “We share everything—a home, our business, and yes, women. But we do so inside of a committed, monogamous relationship. We aren't looking for a hookup.”

  “Oh.” I had no idea if that made me feel better or worse. But the butterflies inside my stomach took flight again.

  “It's just dinner. Come out with us, and we'll talk about it.” Sullivan's eyes sparked with mischief as he spoke.

  Looking back and forth between them, their eye contact seemed genuine and sincere.

  “I'll think about it.” Since I knew I wasn’t going to get anything else out of them, I focused on my plate, taking another bite of a chicken taco.

  “You have to. Go out with us, I mean,” Sullivan said. “The tacos here are a sad excuse for Mexican food. You need to let us take you to Felix’s Taco Hut.”

  I raised one brow. “Taco Hut? That sounds dreamy.”

  “Oh, it’s not. Don’t get your hopes up. It’s a hole in the wall, but their tacos are killer,” he added.

  One more glance between them—these two sexy, masculine men—and I realized they probably weren't going to let this go. I could tell they were the kind of men who pursued what they wanted with dogged determination, the type who never lost. And this tingling curiosity I felt deep inside my chest refused to fade, in fact it got stronger with every heartbeat. I swallowed hard and drew a deep breath. “What the hell. I'll go.” I shrugged.

  Sullivan chuckled. “Now that's the spirit. You free on Friday?”

  My gaze wondered over toward Will's in an attempt to see how he felt about all of this.

  He was still watching me intensely. Still making my insides feel like Jell-O.

  “Say yes, sweetheart. We don't bite,” Will said finally.

  “Yes. I'm free on Friday.” The words felt thick in my throat. It was a few simple words, but their meaning was huge. I was saying yes to this—to a date with two men. When so many questions were dangling there, unspoken, unasked. But for once I was going to trust my gut instinct and see what this was all about, then I could decide for myself. If it was totally weird and uncomfortable, I never had to see them again.

  When the bill came, Sullivan snatched it before Will could, and though I protested, they insisted on paying. I didn't put up much of a fight. The repair bills at my shop were going to ensure I lived on a pretty tight budget for a while. After signing the credit card tab and adding a generous tip, Sullivan handed the check back to the waitress.

  After exchanging phone numbers, we all rose and walked to the exit together.

  “We'll pick you up at seven,” Sullivan said.

  Determined to maintain some level of independence in case things went south, I shook my head. “I'll meet you there.”

  “Until then,” Will added, treating me to the first hint of a smile.

  And just like that, I had a hot date with not one, but two men.

  What in the bananas was happening to my life?

  Chapter Three

  Will

  I looked at the two dress shirts I'd laid on my bed and scrubbed a hand over my hair.

  God, why had I let Sullivan talk me into this? A glance at the clock told me we had twenty minutes before our date, and I needed to finish getting ready.

  Adrienne was beautiful, yes, but from the first moment I’d laid eyes on her, I knew it would never work. Sullivan was too smitten, for one. And she didn't seem particularly interested in a ménage relationship. Which was kind of the entire fucking point.

  She also looked somewhat fragile, delicate somehow—like she'd never be able to handle both of us at once. That fact didn't sit right with me.

  Taking the shirts from my bed, I hung them both back inside the closet, and grabbed a t-shirt instead. Best to keep this casual. It probably wasn't going to go anywhere. We'd enjoy a nice meal, maybe some good conversation, and then send the pretty little Adrienne on her way. And that would be the end of it. Sullivan would just have to get over his little infatuation.

  I met Sullivan in the living room where he sat, nursing a beer with the sports highlights playing low in the background.

  He was dressed in a light blue polo and dark jeans. I felt his gaze roam over my attire, and I waited for him to chastise my choice of outfit.

  But he didn't.

  He just took another swig of his beer and looked back at the TV. “Raiders lost again. Does that mean you owe José another twenty?”

  I grunted an affirmative. It was a stupid bet I'd made with one of our contractors, but it was all in good-natured fun, and the constant banter helped our workday go by that much faster.

  “You about ready?” Sullivan asked, draining the last of his beer and rising to his feet.

  “Yeah.” I slid my feet into a pair of Vans and met his gaze. “You sure about this? She didn’t seem particularly into the idea of us.”

  Sullivan chuckled. “She was. She just didn't know how to handle the fact that she was.”

  “If you say so.” I grabbed my keys from the entryway table. “I'll drive.”

  “Keep an open mind, Will,” Sullivan said, his deep voice going uncharacteristically soft. “I think she could end up being the one.�
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  The one? He was even more smitten than I thought. That wasn't a good sign.

  “We'll see.” My guess was that Adrienne would think it over, feel flattered, but in the end, want nothing to do with us. The nice, normal girls were generally that way. Sure, sometimes they liked to take a walk on the wild wide—but even that was always short-lived. It was why Sullivan and I were still single, at thirty-two and thirty-four, respectively.

  We arrived at the restaurant which was already getting busy with the dinner crowd. Free chips and fresh salsa combined with the best Mexican food in town meant this place could get pretty crowded on a Friday night.

  After Sullivan gave his name to the hostess, we stood just inside the entryway. Him with his hands in his pockets, me fiddling with my phone. I had a brief flash of worry—what if she didn't show? Sullivan would be let down, that was for sure. I realized that I would be, too.

  And then she was here—pushing through the glass door, her eyes wide as she searched through the crowd for us. Her gaze landed on Sully first, and a genuine smile twitched at her lips.

  If it was even possible, she looked even more stunning than the last time.

  A black pencil skirt that hugged her hips, a silky peach-colored top that draped over her tits in a way I found to be extremely distracting, and a pair of high-heeled gold sandals on her feet. Feet I'd like to see propped up on Sullivan's shoulders later.

  Jesus, Will. I needed to get a hold of myself, and fast. What was it about this woman that was already pushing all my buttons, making me go from hot to cold and back again?

  “You came,” Sullivan said, greeting her warmly with a hug.

  “I did.” She smiled, her face transforming as she did. “Almost talked myself out of it at the last minute,” she admitted, looking down to adjust her purse strap.

  God, she was cute. All pink cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. I liked that she was nervous, and I wasn't even sure why.

  “Glad you didn't.” Sullivan took a step back. Social decency dictated that it was now my turn to greet her, but I wasn't a hugger, wasn't nearly as affectionate or open or giving as he was. It took me longer to warm up. It was one of the things Adrienne would learn if she stuck around for any length of time. But I wouldn't make any apologies about that. It was just how I was wired. I shifted a step closer, seemingly drawn to her in a way I couldn't quite explain.

  “You look beautiful,” I said, surprising myself with the sudden need for honesty between us. Maybe I was inspired by her own admission that she'd almost chickened out. But either way, the compliment earned me a smile from Sullivan, and a warm blush that spread faintly along the delicate column of Adrienne's neck.

  The hostess led us to a cheery table on the patio with mosaic tiles in red, orange, and blue. Little strings of white fairy lights flickered on, giving everything a romantic vibe. Suddenly I was no longer questioning Sullivan's choice in restaurant.

  We sat down, each of us choosing an outside chair so that Adrienne had no choice but to seat herself between us. We flipped open our menus, browsing the dinner options in silence for a moment.

  “So, what's good here?” Adrienne asked, directing her question to Sullivan, having already learned he was the chattier of the two of us.

  “Everything,” he answered. “The peach margaritas are amazing. Did you drive, or…?”

  Adrienne shook her head. “My car's in the shop from the accident the other night. I had a friend drop me off. I figure I'll call for a ride later.”

  I shook my head, the movement capturing her attention. And damn, what a feeling to be under her gaze—hot, and confusing, and certain all at once. “I'll drop you off after. Order whatever you'd like.”

  Sullivan nodded. “Then you should definitely try the peach margaritas.”

  “So just cosmetic damage then? Everything else okay with your car?” I asked as we all folded our menus on the table.

  Adrienne nodded. “It will be. They're just replacing the front bumper.”

  “And what about your salon, and the water damage you mentioned?” Sullivan asked.

  Adrienne looked back and forth between us, seemingly unsure about how she felt being caught in this game of ping-pong.

  Make that two of us.

  “The contractor said it's going to be a few weeks before I can get back into my apartment. But I refuse to close the salon—or really, I just can't afford to. I've worked so hard to get here and build up my clientele, I don't like letting people down. So, we're working around the mess.”

  “But I don't understand, where are you sleeping then?” Sullivan asked.

  Leave it to him to ask a question so personal.

  Adrienne just smiled at his concern. “I'm crashing on my friend Dani's couch. It's like being in school all over again. One big slumber party.” She let out a nervous chuckle.

  Sullivan raised one shoulder. “That should be fun, though—a chance for girl talk and all that stuff.”

  At this, Adrienne shook her head. “Yeah, not so much. She and her boyfriend just recently had a baby, so it's a little chaotic there. Midnight feedings and all the exhaustion and stress of learning to care for a newborn. I mostly just feel like I'm in their way.” She looked down at her hands. “I'm sorry, I don't know why I told you all that.”

  Sullivan reached for her hand. “It's fine. Please let me know if there's anything we can do to help. I'm happy to swing by the salon and take a look.”

  Adrienne nodded, and offered him another one of those heart-stopping smiles.

  When the waitress swung back by, we ordered a platter of tacos and a pitcher of margaritas for Sullivan and Adrienne to share.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Ice water is fine.”

  “He's not much of a drinker,” Sullivan supplied, answering for me.

  Especially not when I'm driving. But in general too, I didn't like the feeling of being tipsy. Never had. I much preferred to be in control.

  Our drinks were delivered, and I watched as Adrienne brought the margarita glass to her lips, tasting the icy-liquid with a soft sigh.

  “Oh, that's just sinful.” She chuckled and took another sip.

  Her skin was golden with the setting sun caressing her cheeks and it looked so fucking soft it almost hurt to think about what it'd feel like beneath my fingertips. Sullivan was watching her, too, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing. I took a large gulp of ice water to cool down.

  Our food was delivered quickly and we each dug in. It was nice to see a woman eat with such gusto. Nothing annoyed me more than a woman who ordered rabbit food and then picked at it while complaining about calories. I was glad to see Adrienne wasn't like that.

  “Are you going to eat that?” She gestured with her fork to a side dish containing guacamole that sat untouched beside me.

  “No, please.” I set the little dish next to her plate, and she heaped a pile onto her taco, taking a big bite and letting out another of those soft sighs.

  Sullivan shot me a grin.

  The asshat. So, maybe he was right—she was perfect. Beautiful, sexy, intelligent, hard-working, the list went on. But that didn't mean she'd be interested in our lifestyle—which would obviously be a huge deal-breaker.

  While we ate, Adrienne asked small-talk questions, and for the most part, Sullivan answered. About how we met—at an orphanage. How long we'd been living this lifestyle—for as long as we could remember. And then finally—how does it work.

  I swallowed the final bite of my food and waited, heart picking up. Sullivan stayed quiet, no doubt wanting me to field this particular question.

  Adrienne's gaze drifted from Sullivan's over to mine with a flicker of interest hidden in their blue depths.

  “You interested, sweetheart?”

  Chapter Four

  Will

  The temperature in the restaurant seemed to ratchet up several degrees as Adrienne's appraising eyes danced between mine and Sullivan's. My question hung in the
air around us, unanswered for several heartbeats.

  Was she interested?

  That was the million-dollar question.

  Finally, a determined look crossed her features. “I'm not going to lie. I've thought about it. Probably more than I care to admit, even to myself.” She swallowed, that slender throat working like she was more nervous than she was letting on.

  My own heart picked up the pace as I waited to see what she'd say next.

  “And?” Sullivan asked, elbows on the table, like he couldn't help but get closer.

  Adrienne waited to speak again while the waitress cleared our dishes. “The two of you together is …”

  “Impressive?” Sullivan supplied, smiling crookedly.

  The bastard was always smiling, like this was some big joke. Didn't feel that way to me. It felt huge—monumental. Either she'd accept us and our lifestyle, or she wouldn't, and we'd be forced to move on yet again.

  “Overwhelming,” she finally answered. Adrienne cleared her throat, then fiddled with the napkin in her lap. She had more to say on the subject, and like dutiful subjects deferring to our queen, we waited. “But I also thought that it might be fun,” she added softly, mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile.

  “If it's one night of fun you're looking for, like I mentioned before, we're not interested,” I said, voice coming out more ragged than I intended.

  Taking a breath, I fought to compose myself. It didn't matter how stunningly gorgeous she was, didn't matter that that one night of pleasure would be damn enjoyable—for all three of us—it didn't change anything. Wouldn't replace the deep ache in my chest for a partner. A life-long partner. The chance at a real future. A family.

  “I know Sullivan only hinted at how we grew up, but I can promise you, it was a lot worse than anything you might be imagining. We grew up relying only on each other, it shaped us. I know it's hard to understand, and I promise we'll tell you anything you want to know. But the most basic way to explain it is that it left us with certain wants. Certain needs.”

  Sullivan placed his hand on her lower back as he leaned in closer. “He's right. It's not a hookup we're looking for. It's a relationship.”