Bad Boy SEALs

by Scarlett Avery

"As if I’d miss this," he replies.

  "So, we’re not really taking a shower?" I ask.

  "We’re going to get you nice and dirty and then we’ll clean it all up," Brandon says.

  "There are a lot of advantages about having two boyfriends, but—”

  The doorbell interrupts me in mid-sentence. All three of us frown.

  "Who the hell is it at this time on a Sunday?" Holden asks.

  "Beats me." Brandon shrugs.

  The doorbell chimes again. This time the short succession of staccato rings indicates that whoever is on the other side is determined. The knocks that follow leave no room for misinterpretation.

  "One of your officers?" Holden asks.

  "I don't think so. We've agreed that if anything was urgent, they’d text me before popping by." I worry at my lower lip, suddenly no longer sure.

  "Isn’t your phone off?" Brandon reminds me.

  "Oh yeah. I forgot about that."

  Holden drops me to my feet.

  "I’ll jump into a pair of jeans and I’ll run downstairs to find out who’s so persistent,” he says, walking to his closet. "You two wait here. I'm sure this shouldn't take long."

  Brandon and I nod.

  Holden is out the door in a flash.

  "Why don't you put something on, sweetie. I'll grab you one of Holden’s t-shirts," Brandon says, walking to Holden's walk-in closet. He comes back out holding some clothing. “Here, put this on.”

  "Thank you," I say, taking the t-shirt he hands me.

  "We can always rip it off of you again after Holden gets rid of whoever's downstairs," he grins wide.

  "You’re incorrigible," I return his wide smile before slipping the t-shirt over my head. "Oh my God, this is like a dress on me," I exclaim when I notice how Holden's t-shirt hits my knees.

  “Do you want me to grab a belt to cinch your waist to make it prettier?" Brandon jokes.

  "Funny."

  We’re still laughing when Holden's voice puts an end to our amusement. "Amelia, your friend Charlie is here to see you," he shouts.

  "Charlie?" I frown. "That's weird. Why would she drop by?"

  "I gather you weren’t expecting her," Brandon says.

  "No." I shake my head confused.

  "I’ll borrow a pair of Holden's shorts and then we’ll go downstairs," he says.

  "Okay," I say in a small voice.

  CHAPTER 73

  Holden

  I don't recognize Amelia's best friend when I open the door. I only saw her that one time. The woman standing in front of me is vastly different from the polished supermodel I met at the Warwick. Don't get me wrong, the blonde with the expressionless face is still a beautiful and striking woman, she's just not the glammed-up Amazonian I met many weeks ago. Charlie's casual clothing, her face devoid of makeup and the nervous way she keeps tucking her wet hair behind her ears indicate that this isn't a social visit. After she introduces herself and apologizes profusely for interrupting our Sunday morning, she keeps it really short. She simply says that this couldn't wait. Doing my best not to jump to conclusions, I decide to call my girlfriend down, so we can all find out at the same time what we're dealing with.

  "What are you doing here?" Amelia asks when she reaches the last step.

  My eyes immediately shift behind her and lock with Brandon's. He looks worried.

  "Blimey, those are bloody gorgeous earrings," Charlie exclaims.

  Amelia looks taken aback for a moment—almost as if she had forgotten she was wearing them. She even brings her hand up and caresses them. Funny for someone who was making such a fuss about them just a few minutes ago. She’s a bit shy when she smiles at Charlie. “They’re from Brandon and Holden." She clears her throat and lets out a quiet laugh. "My boyfriends."

  "Jesus, those men surely know how to treat you like a real princess," Charlie returns Amelia's shy smile. Charlie shifts her gaze and runs her eyes up and down my body before moving to Brandon's and back to Amelia’s. "Wow," she finally says once she's done with her inspection.

  "Did something happen?" Amelia gets down to business.

  "No. I'm okay," Charlie reassures her. "Your phone is off," she explains.

  "Did something happen to my father? Was there an accident in Cyprus?" Amelia asks, panicked.

  "No. No accidents that I know of. Had something happened, your officers would be the ones knocking on your boyfriends’ door. Not me."

  "What is it then? If—" Amelia lifts a hand up, cutting her sentence short. "Wait a minute. How did you get here?"

  "I went to your penthouse first and Officer Roderick accompanied me here."

  "Is she waiting in the corridor?"

  Charlie shakes her head. "No. She's waiting downstairs."

  "Charlie, you're scaring me."

  "Honey," Charlie starts. "I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn’t urgent. Given your special night last night, I gather you haven't been online?”

  With the way this conversation is going, I'm growing worried by the second.

  "Oh my God," Amelia gasps.

  "I'll take that as a no." Charlie pauses. "Honey, it's big."

  Shit.

  "How big?" Amelia asks with a trembling voice.

  "It's pretty monumental."

  Fuck, we've been busted.

  "Bollocks,” Amelia slumps her shoulders in defeat.

  "I only found out an hour ago," Charlie explains. "Barrett was checking the latest news on his iPad while I was lingering in bed. The next thing I know, he's waving his device at me with this look of utter shock painted across his face. His lips kept moving, but nothing came out. He couldn't speak. That’d never happened—surely not one of the best lawyers in the country. The man can talk anyone under the table. He was as white as a ghost. Instantly, my heart jumped into my throat. When he finally handed me his iPad, I nearly passed out. Panicked, I jumped into some clothes and I started doing the rounds, checking the Internet to make sure this wasn't fake news. Eventually, I had to face reality. After trying to reach you unsuccessfully, I asked Barrett to drive me here—because I was too bloody shaken to drive myself. He was speeding so fast, I'm surprised he didn't get a ticket.”

  "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck," Amelia tempers. "We wanted to be the ones to tell Daddy first.”

  “It’s—”

  Brandon steps forward interrupting Charlie. He grabs Amelia in his arms and embraces her. He lifts her chin up and kisses her softly. "I guess we weren't as careful as we thought we were—”

  "Brand—”

  "Charlie, please give me a minute. If things are about to collapse around us, I really need Amelia to hear this," he tells Charlie before turning his attention back to our girlfriend. "I don't know how much shit we’re facing, but you're not dealing with this alone. Holden and I will be there every step of the way. There's no way you're taking the fall for this. I'd never allow for your name to get dragged into the mud without doing something about it. I couldn’t live with myself. I love you too much to let that happen."

  "Holy Jesus," Charlie lets out.

  Brandon’s gaze meets mine. There’s so much certainty in his stare. I should be freaked out right now—because those are some pretty big fucking words and there's no way he can take them back—but instead I smile warmly at him.

  “Ha!” Amelia’s hands fly up to cover her mouth. "You what?" she chokes.

  He drops a soft kiss against her forehead. "I love you Amelia and I’ll fight this right by your side."

  “You do? You actually love me?" she asks in disbelief.

  “Yes! I fucking love you.” Brandon nearly shouts those words.

  “Oh. My. God.” Charlie is now fanning herself with one hand while placing the back of the other against her forehead.

  Amelia turns around and bores her pleading gaze into mine. She doesn't speak. Instead, she asks the question silently.

  I close the gap between us and cup her beautiful face in my hand. "I love you too, angel," I declare before lowering my head and dropping a te
nder kiss on her lips. It's unfathomable how easily the words spill out. I'm taken aback for a second, but not much longer. "I mean it," I add.

  "Is this a dream?" Amelia whispers.

  “No, sweetie. I knew things had shifted since last weekend, but I'm not sure I was ready to put them into words until now," Brandon says.

  "Sweet baby Jesus," Charlie mutters.

  "Same here. I could feel it, but all this is so new to me my head was still catching up with my heart." I chuckle. “Neither Brandon or I even talked about it. Like everything else in this relationship, it's just so natural. It feels right."

  "Mother of God." Charlie has become the chorus to our declarations, watching from the sidelines as Brandon and I take a major turn in our lives.

  "Are you two serious, right now?

  "Yes," my best friend and I declare solemnly.

  "I can't tell you how much I love the two of you. I was so afraid I was the only one falling for you. I didn't know if it was even possible for two men to love the same woman—”

  “It's very possible," Brandon affirms.

  "I guess just like the sex club, our timing sucks," I joke.

  We all laugh.

  “I love you with all my heart. Both of you.” Amelia anchors herself against my forearms and gets on her tiptoes. I lower my head and crush her lips. Our tongues dance in a steamy kiss. For a fraction of a second it’s just the two of us until Brandon clears his throat.

  “Can you show a little respect? Don’t hog my girlfriend,” he says. He almost has me fooled.

  Amelia laughs.

  “Sorry,” I smile.

  “Whatever,” he rolls his eyes.

  Grudgingly, I let her go and she turns around and jumps into Brandon’s arms. They lose themselves in a passionate kiss that almost makes me forget that Charlie—who’s standing there looking at her friend in awe—is the bearer of some bad news.

  Eventually, all good things have to come to an end.

  "Sorry, Charlie,” Brandon apologizes breaking his embrace with Amelia. “A lot has happened between the three of us since yesterday."

  She offers a small nod.

  "You were saying?" I ask. "We might as well get it over with,” I add.

  "Holden is right. Do we have to smuggle our girlfriend out of the country, or is it too late? Has the Prime Minister already ordered a hit on our heads?" Brandon asks, turning around to face Charlie. Of course, he's joking, but it's unclear if Charlie realizes that. She just stares at him blankly. "Charlie?" he presses.

  Still nothing.

  "Charlotte?" Amelia insists.

  "What?” She blinks, almost in a daze.

  "Are there disparaging photos of us all over the Internet? Are my boobs hanging out for all of England to see? Did the press catch all three of us fucking? Does the entire planet know that I'm getting double stuffed?” Amelia bombards her best friend with questions.

  Charlie shakes her head, but it's not clear if it's a no, or if she's just snapping out of it. "Before I answer that, I just want to say that that was the most beautiful love declaration I have ever witnessed in my life." She places both her hands against her heart. “Thank you so much for allowing me to be part of this incredible moment in your lives. I'm so happy for you, honey."

  She runs to her best friend and embraces her. The two women hug and laugh joyfully.

  Another time and another place, we'd be cracking open a bottle of expensive champagne. Alas, I doubt this morning is about celebrations.

  "Considering how impromptu this was, it means a lot to hear you say that, Charlie, but I think we need to focus on the crisis at hand," I remind them.

  The elation stops, and that worried look is back on Amelia 's face.

  "Of course," Charlie concedes. "After that, I think it’s best if you read it for yourselves,” she says, shuffling through her bag. "Here," she hands Amelia her iPad.

  She grabs it, but she doesn't read the news immediately. Instead she cradles the iPad against her chest. "Here goes nothing," she says, almost in a prayer.

  I place a hand on her shoulder. "Remember, we’re in this together," I tell her.

  "If we have to leave London for a while and go back to New York, you're coming with us," Brandon affirms.

  "Thank you for saying that."

  Both Brandon and I stand behind her. I inhale deeply and brace myself for the worst.

  Amelia pulls the device away from her chest and taps on the screen to revive it. Jesus. I read the headline and I take a step back. It's as if the words slapped me across the face. Certain my eyes are playing tricks on me, I creep up behind Amelia, lean in and read the headline a second time. I shake my head in disbelief. "What the fuck?" The words fall out of my mouth.

  "Is that for real?" Brandon shouts.

  “Jesus Christ," Amelia hisses. She looks up at Charlie. "Please tell me this is a lie. It-it’s fake news. It-it has to be." She stumbles all over her words.

  “It’s not.” That same blank expression that greeted me when I opened the door is back on Charlie’s face.

  "Charlie, you’re wrong," Amelia yells. "I refuse to accept this," She points frantically at the iPad while shaking it in the air. "Did you fucking read this?" Amelia demands. That's the whole reason why she’s standing here. Charlie doesn't answer. Brandon and I remain silent, allowing our girlfriend to process the scandalous news. "I'm sure I've lost my ability to read English because I swear this says, KINKY ABIGAIL GETS HER FREAK ON WITH MUCH YOUNGER 26-YEAR OLD DIRTY REVEREND ROWAN NESMITH: PM'S WIFE NOT SO PROPER AFTER ALL. That’s just preposterous,” she shrieks, looking up at her best friend. Charlie pulls her lips down and shakes her head. Amelia blinks furiously, bouncing her eyes between the three of us. “The fucking cunt. The bitch has been cheating on my father? With a fucking pastor?”

  On the one hand, I'm relieved that this explosive news has nothing to do with the three of us, on the other, I'm upset at how this will affect the woman I love, and her father—a man I greatly respect.

  "Could the press have mistaken Abigail for someone else?” I ask. I know, it's a desperate attempt to keep my head hidden in the sand, but honestly this isn't big news. It’s volcanic. I feel for the PM.

  Charlie shakes her head. "I'm afraid not, Holden. It's very clear from the photos that someone on the inside was onto them. From what I've been able to gather, the gardener is the whistleblower."

  “Charlie, those photos must be photoshopped," Brandon suggests.

  I guess I'm not the only one who’s unwilling to accept the facts.

  “They're not, Brandon. Abigail has been very good at fooling all of us, but mostly Amelia's father."

  “Christ.” Brandon rakes his fingers through his messy hair.

  “Before swinging by, I made a few calls to some pretty reliable sources who have their ears to the ground. There's no way this would’ve come out had it not been verified up, down and center. No one in their right mind would dare to print this if it wasn’t true. The last thing you want is for the Prime Minister to become your number one enemy."

  "I can't believe this," Amelia says in disbelief.

  "These are some pretty racy photos," I comment as Amelia scrolls down the page. I mean, there's even one of Abigail on her knees with her tits exposed and the pastor’s cock in her mouth.

  "If you can believe it or not, those are the tame ones. You should see the raunchy ones littering some of the hardcore sites." She pauses. "The interesting thing is, I bumped into Abigail twice—unknowingly, of course— at the Rev's office.”

  "What do you mean?" Amelia asks.

  "Keep scrolling down the page," Charlie advises.

  "Jesus Christ.” Amelia nearly drops the iPad, but I catch it in time. "It's the woman with the black trench coat, the huge designer glasses and the black wig you kept talking about. The one who was in distress?"

  "Yes. That’s her. It all makes sense now. No wonder the bitch jolted when she saw me the last time. I'm sure Abigail thought I had recognized her.
I hadn't or else I would've told you about it."

  "Abigail is a piece of shit. I've hated her from the first day I met her. She never deserved my father." Amelia’s words are dripping with contempt.

  "There's more. A lot more," Charlie says.

  "What?" All three of us ask in shock.

  "I think you should call your father.”

  "Please tell me, Charlie," Amelia implores.

  “There was a raid in the middle of the night—someone you know,” she says.

  “Who?”

  “I think your dad should be the one to tell you,” Charlie advises. “It involves you." I really don't like the sound of that last part, but I do my best not to interfere.

  "My God, he must be devastated," Amelia laments.

  "I don't think so," Charlie retorts.

  "What are you talking about, Charlie?" There's a tinge of anger I've only heard once—on the night of the gala—in Amelia's voice.

  "I’ve done it plenty of times in my career. So has every publicist dealing with high profile clients. Sometimes you get tipped off in advance and you have enough time to devise a game plan, which usually involves shipping your client out of the country to make it impossible for the press to hound and stalk them. I don't think it's a coincidence that your father had to suddenly leave London for Cyprus on Thursday morning."

  “Blimey.” Amelia shakes her head.

  "Wow.” I really don't know what more to say to this.

  "That despicable slut is going to pay for what she did to my father," Amelia is shaking with rage.

  I take her in my arms and kiss the top of her head, hoping that that's enough to calm her down. "Angel, why don't you go upstairs and call your father. Brandon and I will be here when you're done."

  “Okay." Her voice is trembling.

  I turn my attention to her best friend. “Charlie, do you have any plans for the rest of the morning?"

  "No. Not anymore. I'm here for Amelia," she says. "All day if needs be," she quickly adds.

  "Good," I nod. “Is that Barrett guy still waiting for you downstairs?"

  "Yes."

  "Why don't you invite him up? Does he know Amelia is involved with both of us?" I ask.

  "Yes. I told him this morning. I wasn't sure what would transpire today. I wouldn't have said anything otherwise. I hope that's okay."