“So fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”
His lips pressed into a grim, flat line. “No. But enough about me.” He raised her left hand and spun her wedding band around her ring finger. “Now… About this. Should I be nervous some man is going to bust in here and try to kick my ass?”
“No.”
“But you still wear his ring.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement that felt like a challenge.
“I do.”
“Bad breakup?”
“Not exactly.”
“Still painful?”
She thought about that for a moment. Yes, her husband’s loss was still painful, but it wasn’t as fresh anymore. She would always miss him.
“It was very painful for a while. Enough so that I haven’t dated since.”
“Since…” he prodded.
“His death.”
“I’m sorry.” Cole wrapped his fingers around hers and pressed her hand against his bare chest, over his Boston Bulldogs tattoo. She felt his heartbeat. It was slow and steady.
“You’ve apologized way too much tonight.”
He gave a slight shrug. “Apologies don’t cost a thing.”
She turned her head on the pillow to look at him. Really look at him. This man was no dumb jock.
“What?” he asked, like he was suddenly worried she could see his thoughts.
She smiled at him. “Nothing.”
“Do you want me to take you home? Or do you want to stay and make me breakfast?” He seemed to emphasize the second question, as if it were his preference.
She wanted to reverse the questions on him. Did he want her to stay or go? But she didn’t want to sound like she was unsure of herself…even though she was. What was the normal protocol for this?
“I would love to make you breakfast in that amazing kitchen,” she finally said.
“Ah. I see. You only want me for my big kitchen.”
She giggled. And then stopped in dismay. She sounded like a giddy schoolgirl!
“You know it.” She pulled the pillow out from underneath her head and bopped him in the face with it. “There’s nothing like a man and his big kitchen.”
He wrestled the pillow away and rolled on top of her, pinning her to the bed. She grabbed the pillow again and started whacking him with it. They laughed so hard they were both out of breath. He finally caught her flailing wrists and pinned them to either side of her face.
“Is that considered a tackle?”
“You don’t know much about football, do you?”
“Should I?” She asked.
He made a sound of mock disgust before capturing her lips with his. His lips moved over hers, his tongue pushing between them. Their tongues tangled and the kiss deepened until all the kidding was gone, and nothing remained but naked desire.
He pulled away just enough to say, “There’s plenty of time until dawn for me to teach you the fundamentals of football. But first, I want to hear you cry out again when you’re coming.”
That sounded like a plan she could live with.
Chapter Six
Eve moved around the kitchen as if she belonged there. While Cole was in the shower, she cut up the fresh vegetables she found in his crisper bin. He requested a veggie and cheese omelet, with a side of turkey bacon, and lots and lots of coffee. His words, not hers.
The smell of brewing coffee swirled around her as she found the pans and utensils she needed to make him breakfast.
She wore nothing but one of his pale pink button-down collared shirts. It was haphazardly buttoned and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows since his shirt was way too big for her. She hadn’t even bothered to look for her panties. She wasn’t sure where they’d ended up.
The morning sunlight lit up the penthouse enough that she hadn’t even had to turn on any lights. The skyline was as stunning in the early morning hours as it had been last night.
As she worked in the kitchen, she noticed there were traces of his football career around the condo. Front and center was an enormous photo of Cole and Ren holding the Super Bowl trophy together over their heads, a look of pure joy on their faces. Colorful confetti rained down around them as they both celebrated the biggest win of their lives.
The elevator made a loud ding and the doors whooshed open, revealing one of the subjects in the photo. Eve’s heart stopped.
Was Cole expecting Ren? Did Ren have the security card for Cole’s penthouse?
She felt like a rabbit caught in a snare when Ren looked up and spotted her.
“What the fuck?”
Shit.
A small part of her wanted to run into the bedroom and slam the door shut. But that was just ridiculous. Wasn’t it?
Eve was still weighing her options, when Ren walked toward her with a weird look on his face. And by weird she was thinking it was a combination of surprise and anger, mixed with a little disappointment.
“What the fuck!”
Didn’t he just say that? Eve simply gave him a crooked smile and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Luckily, before she could answer, Cole came out of the bedroom, wearing loose cotton pants and tying the drawstring at his waist while he walked.
Cole, ignoring the thunderous look on Ren’s face, said, “Hey, bro,” as if Ren normally walked into his condo at any given time.
And maybe he did. But this morning wasn’t the best timing for Eve.
Ren shook his head, closed his gaped mouth, and said, “Tell me you’re having a breakfast date.”
Eve quickly turned her back on him and busied herself by grabbing the butter, eggs, and milk out of the fridge.
As she turned to place the food on the counter, she practically bumped chests with Ren. He was that close. His tension engulfed her.
He looked her up and down and she could feel the heat in his gaze. She didn’t think it was from desire at that moment. He glanced over his broad shoulder at Cole. “Is that your shirt she’s wearing?”
Cole shrugged and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Coffee?” he offered.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Ren wasn’t talking about coffee either.
He plopped down on one of the bar stools on the other side of the kitchen bar. He threw his car keys on the counter and the loud clatter made Eve start.
“Dude, Eve’s making breakfast. Let her make something for you.”
Eve finally found her voice, “Yes, let me make breakfast for both of you.”
Ren turned his head from Cole to pin her with his gaze.
“You know, Dix, I did not expect this.”
“Me neither,” Cole answered honestly.
“I actually came over to tell you that I was interested in seeing her again.” His gaze never left Eve’s face. She schooled herself to keep the surprise off her face.
“You couldn’t call?” Cole joked, but it ended up sounding a little flat.
“I’m sorry,” Eve told Ren.
Ren shook his head. “No reason to be sorry.”
“But if it’s any consolation, I would like to see you again too.” She wanted to cringe at her own words. But if it’s any consolation, Ren, I really want to see both you and your best friend. Feel better now?
The sudden silence was so great Eve could hear the butter melting in the fry pan. Both men just stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. She didn’t blame them.
“Really,” Ren said.
She started cracking eggs into a bowl, avoiding direct eye contact and keeping her hands busy. “Yes. Why not?”
The men looked at each other, then back at her.
Cole cleared his throat. “So, uh, you want another date with Renny?”
“Not only Renny, as you call him, but with you too. I had a great time last night.”
Ren snorted. “It sure looks like you did.”
Cole gave him a wide grin. Eve worried that Ren was still a bit too volatile for Col
e to be pushing his buttons.
“I did. And I had a great time with you the other night too. I’d love to see you both.” She whipped the eggs and milk together, still not meeting their gaze. “I mean, if you both don’t mind.”
Once again the silence was deafening. She was afraid to look.
If they rejected the idea of her dating them both, her plan would never work. It was better to know now, wasn’t it?
Cole set a cup of steaming coffee next to her. “Creamer?”
She nodded her head and he poured some into her mug and stirred it for her. She peeked up at him. His face was as blank as he could keep it.
“Sugar?”
Ren let out a frustrated sound. “Cole, damn it, you’re such a dick.”
He looked at Ren in surprise. “Why? Because the thought of her seeing both of us doesn’t bother me?”
“Yes! No!” He groaned. “Fuck! I don’t know.”
“Who cares? Just wear a fucking condom.”
“Just wear a fucking condom,” Ren repeated. He shook his head. “Just that simple then?”
“Yeah, why the fuck not?”
“We have never dated, or even slept with, the same woman.”
Cole gave him a direct look. “So?”
“Cole, grab some plates, please?”
He did what Eve asked, setting them next to the stove. She turned to Ren. “Bacon?”
“Is it that shitty turkey bacon he buys?”
Eve laughed, breaking the tension in the room. “Yes.”
“What man eats turkey bacon?”
“Me,” Cole answered and shoved a piece into this mouth right from the pan.
“You’re such a pussy,” Ren said.
“Eve, was I a pussy last night?”
Eve gave him a sideways look. “I made scrambled eggs with veggies and cheese instead of omelets since there are three of us.”
“It better not be that tofu cheese,” Ren told him.
“No, I threw that shit out. That was nasty.”
Both men finally laughed and Eve relaxed a bit.
As they all ate their breakfast, the question of her seeing both men never quite got answered. They skirted the issue and talked about everything but. Eve could see the comradery between the two of them. She didn’t want to do anything to screw that up.
Chapter Seven
After breakfast was finished and the pot of coffee almost empty, the guys cleaned up, since she’d cooked. It was only right, they said. And she wasn’t going to question it.
Then, surprisingly, Ren offered her a ride home. She wasn’t sure if he just wanted to get her out of Cole’s penthouse, but he offered. She accepted. And Cole hadn’t argued.
The ride home had been a bit stilted. But he acted like a complete gentleman the whole way.
Eve was afraid that Ren knowing she had sex with his best friend would put him off. Would he sever the ties before she could even propose her daring plan? It would only be a normal reaction, right?
After he pulled into her driveway in front of her little house in the suburbs, he shut the Escalade off and turned to her.
Before he could even say anything she spoke. “I can make it up to you.”
His brows rose. “How?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“So you were serious about seeing both of us?”
“I would like that.”
He shook his head as he said, “I’m not sure I can go along with that. But I’m willing to get together again to see what we have.” He snagged a tendril of her hair and twisted it around his finger. “I like you.”
“I like you too.” She gave him a half smile. “How about next Friday night?”
He was silent as he studied her face.
“Only if you give me the chance to show you my place, since you’ve seen Cole’s.”
She met his gaze. “It’s not a competition.” She needed them to work as a team, not compete against each other.
Ren snorted. “You’re dealing with two very competitive men. Of course, it’s a competition. Something as simple as buying a round of drinks turns into a competition.”
“A lot of testosterone to burn, huh?”
“That too.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I knew you would have freckles over your nose.”
All her makeup had worn off from the previous night’s activities. And, of course, not expecting an overnight stay with Cole, she had nothing with her to fix it.
“Where else do you have freckles?”
She gave him a slow smile. “You’re going to have to find out for yourself.”
“Oh, that sounds like a challenge I will enjoy.”
He climbed out of the SUV and went around to open her door. “You’re on for Friday. I’ll text you my address and the time.”
She walked to her door before he called out, “Wear something really sexy.”
She smiled and waved as she unlocked the door and escaped from his heated gaze.
And now, here she was—less than a week later—staring out of a car window, watching the scenery fly by, after giving the Uber driver Ren’s address. The driver took her out to the suburbs northwest of the city. He drove her through a neighborhood of tree-lined roads, well-manicured lawns, and enormous homes.
The driver slowed, reading the house numbers, but they weren’t on the mailboxes. No. The ornate numbers appeared on each gated driveway. Finally, he pulled up to a gate and pushed the button embedded in a stone pedestal.
The gate opened automatically and the driver proceeded up the lane to a large circle in front of the house. Eve pressed her forehead to the glass to look up, to see how immense the house was. Of course, it was ridiculously big.
She jerked away from the glass when the front door opened and Ren jogged down the gray stone steps to grab her door. He helped her out, but she turned back to the car.
“Hold on,” she told him. “I have to pay the driver.”
“Stop.” He waved a hand toward her and pulled out his wallet. He paid the driver who then mentioned he was a big fan and asked for an autograph. Ren’s smile widened and he obliged. He shook the driver’s hand before he drove out of the gate, beeping and waving. Ren clearly appreciated his fans.
Ren chuckled and then turned his attention to Eve. “You don’t have a car?”
“No. No reason to. It’s cheaper for me to take taxis and car services.”
Ren whistled long and low. “Wow. No way, I like my freedom of just jumping in a vehicle and going at any moment.”
Eve shrugged. “It works for me.”
Ren stepped back and got an eyeful of Eve. “And that dress works for me. Hot damn.”
She had decided to wear her emerald-green two-piece dress with the plunging neckline and a bottom hem that barely covered her ass. Like the dress she wore to the commitment ceremony, her shoulders were completely bare. The only thing holding the top up was two thin spaghetti straps. And the bottom? The swell of her hips. Occasionally a sliver of her midriff would show when she moved. The dress was simple, but effective. And paired with the emerald-green strappy heels she wore, she could see how effective it was on Ren.
He leaned in to kiss her shoulder. “I had to kiss that freckle.” He held his hand out to her and she linked her hand with his. “I plan on tasting every freckle on your body, just so you know.”
“I look forward to it.”
He led her up the steps and into the house. House. No, it wasn’t just a house. It was a house on steroids.
The foyer, more like a grand entrance, was two stories high with a chandelier in the shape of an octopus. It looked as though it was made of a dark metal, brass maybe, with a light fixture hanging off each tentacle. How odd.
“That’s different.”
“I love steampunk.”
Steampunk. So not how she thought of him. She expected his home to have clean lines, modern décor, almost similar to Cole’s penthouse. But after he mentioned steampunk she could spot it in the actual archi
tectural design of the house. From the staircase in the foyer that led up to the second floor down to the smallest furnishings. Lots of metals and woods, from dark browns to light golds. Gears and pullies. Steamer trunks. A mix of gothic, industrial, and Victorian style. Definitely not what she was expecting.
He took her through a large room, which could have been a living room or sitting room. Either way, it could have housed a small family. Dark leather sofas flanked a large stone fireplace.
This house was dark compared to Cole’s light penthouse. Such complete opposites.
He led her to the other end of the large room to french doors. He opened them both wide and escorted her through to an enormous deck. She wandered away from him over to the rail of the deck, which overlooked a private lake. She absorbed the beauty of the water and the scenery. It felt…peaceful. Trees and wood fence lined both sides of his well-cared-for lawn, giving a sense of privacy from any neighbors. She could see herself spending a lot of time outdoors, if this were her property.
“I thought we could have dinner out here. The deck faces west. We’ll be able to see the sunset.”
She turned and he was standing next to a table that had lit candles and plates covered with cloches. Cloches? Steampunk? Who was this man?
She said, surprised, “Did you cook?”
Ren laughed. “Be thankful I didn’t. I have a friend who is an awesome chef. She made us a special meal.”
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Landis?”
He laughed again. “Not at all, Ms. Sanders. But…” He pulled her closer and gazed down at her. “Is it working?”
“The night is young, Mr. Landis. We shall see. We shall see.”
He waved a hand toward the table. “Let’s eat before it gets too cold.” He pulled a chair away from the table. “Please sit.”
She did, and he pushed the chair closer to the table for her.
“Krug Brut?” Ren asked. “It’s a 1988, a very good year.”
“What?”
He chuckled, and pulled a bottle of champagne from a silver bucket full of ice. He showed her the label before he popped the cork and poured.
She lifted her glass, clinking it with his. “Cheers! Do you even remember 1988?”
Dare Menage 2: Daring Proposal Page 7