I stilled. A thought.
I grinned.
Their expressions turned wary.
I shrugged and turned off the overhead light. They had turned on the bed side lamps. “I’m not pickin’.” I closed the door. “Not tonight, anyway. So if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed with each other, get out now. Otherwise, I’m sleeping right there in the middle and you two can just reap what you sow.”
I waited and both of their faces scrunched up. Heh! Gotcha.
I started picking up the decorative pillows that were between them while they sat there and stewed. I was enjoying myself way too much. And, really, how many useless pillows did one bed need for decoration? Finally, I glanced up, placing the last gold cylinder pillow on the pile at the foot of the bed. They still didn’t look much better-off.
“Well?” I asked, hands on my hips. “Who’s gonna run?”
They glanced at each other.
Brent murmured, eyes unbreakable, “I’m not leaving.”
“Neither am I,” Cole answered right back.
Okay.I didn’t expect that. I scratched my head. Eh. Once one of them felt a hairy leg or a muscular arm, they would be jumping at the bit to go.
I went to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer where extra sleeping pillows were normally stashed. Jackpot. I grabbedone and tossed it between them. Went to the restroom and came back.
They were still glaring at one another. How sweet.
I crawled from the foot of the bed. Hesitated. Ah, heck. Why not? I pecked Brent’s lips with mine first, then turned to Cole and did the same. Their eyes were startled and I held back the chuckle bubbling up from my chest.
I pulled back the covers--they were wearing pajama bottoms—and got in, pulling them back up. I settled in, lying on my side and fluffing my pillow. I sighed at the soft mattress under me. They waited a few beats before putting the book and laptop down. They moved so slowly I thought for sure one of them was going to dash for the door. But, instead, the lights blinked off and they rustled around getting comfortable.
Brent’s arm immediately snaked around my stomach and when Cole reached for me, he hissed feeling Brent’s arm. Brent chuckled evilly. Oh, boy.
Cole was silent, and then his own arm pushed under my pillow and neck as he turned on his back, bringing my head to his chest. I burrowed into the downy soft hair there and Brent grunted, and then scooted closer and holding me tighter, spooning me from behind.
“Your arm is touching my stomach,” Cole grumbled.
I was trying so hard not to laugh.
“And your damn hand is touching my shoulder,” Brent quipped.
I tried to settle down. I didn’t think it would be too polite to laugh at them.
They didn’t say anything after that, but I did have something I need to ask.
I cleared my throat. “Cole, who’s Miranda to you?”
Brent stayed blessedly silent.
“She’s a family friend. I’ve known her since we were kids. We went to school together, went to all the same parties and events, and you were correct about her. Her parents do want her to marry to one of their friends children. Clearly, I’m the one she’s picked. We’ve been friends, and only friends, for a very long time. Nothing more. I don’t plan to change that,” he spoke softly and affectionately about her. “But I’m not going to hurt her. I have to let her down gently. She’s had a rough life of people ignoring her. You were also right about her upbringing with her parents and older sister. Her life has been far from ideal.”
I pondered that and his tone.
“You’ll have to excuse me while I do it the New York way for a second,” I said apologetically to Cole, then asked, “Brent, is he tellin’ the truth? Have you ever known him to sleep with her?”
Brent was quiet for a few ticks, and then he sighed. “No. He’s never slept with her that I know of and she’s hit on him every time we’ve come down here for negotiations.”
I felt Cole’s large silent exhale, his chest lowering.
I appreciated Brent’s honesty. I would have believed whatever answer he would have given. He wasn’t a liar. And Cole knew I would have believed Brent.
