“No pressure from either of you to sell?” I stipulate.
“No. We won’t even bring up the topic unless you want to talk about it.”
I chew on my lip in deep deliberation.
“C’mon, Jenn. Give us a chance. One. Chance,” Shane hisses seductively in my ear.
“Fine,” I cave. “One. Chance.”
They both smile victoriously from ear to ear.
I sigh, knowing this path I’m about to drift down is dicey and dangerous.
“Give me your phone,” Chase sternly requests. I pull it out of my bag and hand it over reluctantly. “I’ll text you our address. Do you have to work tonight?”
“No. The restaurant is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays during the low season.”
Chase curves the corner of his mouth up in a wicked grin. “Good. That means we get you all to ourselves for a whole forty-eight hours.”
“No—” Before I even have a chance to argue, he silences me with an emotive kiss while Shane grips my hips tightly. We’re out in the open, so I don’t know how far their public display of affection will go. At the moment, I hope not much further. I need to wrap my head around all this. I was certain after I stormed out of Winters Travers I would never see either of them again, yet here we are. The three of us together about to melt the pavement under our feet. They release me in unison, as if they can read each other’s mind.
“How did you find me?” I ask dizzily.
“Chase left something at home, when he was pulling into the parking lot he spotted you leaving. I ran outside a few seconds later and we followed you.” Shane explains.
“Crafty.” I muse.
“And lucky and cosmic.” Shane adds.
“I don’t believe in fate. Or faith.” I inform him impassively.
“Maybe you should.” Chase frivolously pokes me in the ribs and I jump. “Tonight. Six o’clock. Don’t be late,” Chase commands as I stand there woozy. These two men. Jesus Christ, these two men . . .
“Six. Got it,” I reiterate, lightheaded, as they meander all
hot and sexy in expensive suits over to their car. Of course, it’s some overpriced black thing that looks like a jet.
I just watch as they pull away.
It’s official.
I just lost my fucking mind.
3
It’s ten after six, and I can’t get out of my car. Of course, Shane and Chase are staying on the north side of town in a huge Winters Travers condo right on the beach. Ick. This situation just gets better and better. As disinclined as I am to step over the threshold of the devil-crafted home, I’m twice as intrigued to get an inside look at how the two of them live and why they’re so eager to invite me into their relationship. I mean, okay, a little sexual shake-up I can understand, but for some reason, when Shane used the word ‘connection,’ I got the impression he meant in more than just a physical way. Which is . . . perplexing.
I finally muster up my nerve and ring the doorbell. To hell with it. Let’s do this.
The door swings open a moment later to Chase in a black polo shirt and dark jeans, holding a bag of marshmallows.
“We were starting to wonder if you were going to stand us up.” He steps aside.
I eye him warily. “It crossed my mind. Why are you holding marshmallows?”
He delivers a panty-melting smile. “You’ll see. Get your ass in here.”
I smell trouble.
