"As long as they're good for riding, I'll be happy to saddle up." Mark laughs.
"You like to ride?" Simon asks.
"No, but I like to be rode hard until the ladies beg for mercy."
"Mark!" Scandalized, I hide my eyes behind my hands, until the sound of combined male laughter makes me glare at all of them in turn. "That's just wrong."
"And yet it feels so right!"
The teasing smiles are my undoing. It's impossible not to laugh with them, especially since he and Heath both proved they were a good ride. If anything, it feels good to be part of this intimate circle that promises more sexy times to come. Still, it's a bit embarrassing to be teased this way in front of Simon.
Heath finally takes pity on me and diverts the conversation back to Simon's problem at hand.
"Okay, now that we've covered Mark's fantasies, let's get back to you. I'm a vet, and I'd be happy to look Brutus over. Can you get a ride out to the clinic?"
"I guess I could try to Uber. Do you think someone will pick up a large dog?"
"You can use my car," Mark offers. "I still keep one for when I want to get out of the city. It's in the parking lot below the building."
"Thank you, mate, I appreciate it. I'll find a way to return the favor somehow."
"No problem. I'll head back with you and grab the keys. I can program the GPS to get you to Dr. Doolittle's." Handily dodging the ice that Heath tosses at him, Mark turns to me once more. "You're with me tomorrow, right, Josie?"
"No, Thursday, remember? I have to work on—my other project tomorrow night."
Simon regards me curiously before asking, "What do you do, Josie?"
Before I can answer, Heath jumps in. "She's a writer."
"Really? What kind?"
"Not really," I respond quickly. "I'm just starting."
"Don't believe her," Heath replies. "She writes romance, and she's quite good."
"How would you know?" I reply tartly.
"Because I read your book."
"You read my first book?" I don't know why I'm shocked, since he read the reverse harem books Emma gave him. Yet, I never considered that he would read mine.
"Of course I did, it's important to you. Why wouldn't I? Although, I have to agree with Emma, you could use a little more steam." His smile says it all. "I'll do my best to inspire you."
My answering smile isn't lost on Mark, who quickly chimes in, "Count me in. I've always been told how inspiring I can be."
My lips quirk as I suppress my laughter, trying to look innocent as Simon asks, "Is it help you need? I've got plenty of time here, now that I'm lazing around. I was always good at research in uni."
"Ummm…that's really sweet of you to offer, Simon." I laugh at the thunderstruck expressions on Mark and Heath's faces before I say, "I think I have about as much research help as I can handle right now." I cough as I continue, "But I'll certainly keep it in mind if I need additional independent testing."
"Let's go get those keys." Mark's abrupt words cut Simon off before he can comment further, then they both get to their feet.
"Yeah, mate, that'd be grand." Reaching across the table, Simon grips Heath's hand, research already forgotten as I sink back into my chair in relief. "Can I bring Brutus round tomorrow?"
"Sure, let me give you my number. Just give me a buzz and let me know when you think you can get there. I do routine surgeries in the morning, so make it after one o'clock."
A wisp of breath tickles my ear, sending shivers down my spine while Simon and Heath exchange numbers and goodbyes.
"No more research partners until Cliff and I at least get our fair shot. Got it?" Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, Mark waits for my answer.
"Yes, sir!" I laugh as I salute him, surprised by the sudden flare of hunger in his eyes. Wow. I'm going to have to watch this possessive streak that keeps peeking through Mark's relaxed veneer.
"I'll see you Thursday. Coming, brother?" He turns to Simon, and they move off through the crowd, eyes following eagerly in their wake. They are a pretty sexy sight, and it's obvious people have begun to recognize Mark now, too. One sexy rock star and one local celebrity. How did I end up in this mix? Not that Simon is part of this.
"Don't even think about it." Heath's voice breaks my concentration.
"What?" I ask innocently as Heath sighs.
"You're not the girl I thought you were, are you?"
The question sends me back to another place and time as I pause a moment before answering seriously.
"Maybe you should get to know me better before you ask that question, okay? I can tell you this—I may not be perfect, but I always try to be me. I'm not trying to hide who I am. It's up to you to see the truth."
"Fair enough."
At his nod, I gather my purse and grab his hand. "It's been a long night. Let's all head home and think about what we've committed to. As much as I hope this works the way we want, there's bound to be a few bumps along the way. Are you ready for that?"
Kissing the back of my hand briefly as we weave through the crowd, Heath smiles. "I'll invest in bubble wrap."
You have to love a man who knows how to plan ahead.
Chapter 21
The Dogs of War
Soft fur brushes my ankles as Daisy winds between my feet, meowing desperately, as if she hasn't eaten in days. Knowing that's a complete and utter lie, since she ruthlessly woke me for treats this morning, I make her wait as I open the freezer to choose my own dinner.
My promises to start cooking more go straight out the window when I realize it's already seven o'clock and I need to get words in tonight. Cooking will have to wait for another day. If I'm lucky, I can con Mark into cooking for me tomorrow during our date. If I'm even luckier, I muse, popping a frozen meal into the microwave, I might get dessert again first.
Just the thought has me reaching for a bottle of wine and a glass. The man is inventive, I'll give him that. Reminded by Daisy's indignant yowls that I have yet to take care of her needs, I hope this isn't what I have to look forward to when trying to satisfy two tomcats on the prowl.
"Ok, what'll it be tonight? Sole or beef? Or surf and turf?" Her plaintive cry signals again her preference for surf and turf, the greedy minx, as I split the two cans, combining them in a bowl for her. Yes, I acknowledge that I spoil her shamelessly, but like me, she's old enough to have earned it.
From the time I rescued her in a pet store seven years ago, she's been nothing but a ridiculously demanding, ball of unconditional love. Sometimes, I think she's the only reason I haven't slid into more random one nighters. Her disdain of strange men in my bed is something I fear. When your cat keeps you honest, that's nothing to sneeze at.
I'm always amused by how she purrs in delight as she eats. What I wouldn't give to hear such pleasure in a man's voice when he goes down on me. The sudden thought of Heath's sweet smile triggers one of my own. Perhaps my vet will surprise me there. He's used to communing with the animals, maybe he's learned something along the way.
The ding of the microwave interrupts my rambling thoughts as I carefully release the steam from my fettuccine. Oh well, let's see what trouble I can get into with some words tonight. There's no way to know what Heath—and Mark—will or won't do until the time comes. For now, I have to decide what Cedric and Roderick have in store for Lady Sydney.
Grasping the wine bottle along with my glass and dinner, I plunk everything on the coffee table and boot up the laptop. Where would Lady Sydney be most vulnerable? A house party in the country might be a perfect opportunity for some unsupervised entertainment.
* * *
The chime of a text message pulls me from my story, and I stretch my neck, wincing at the pop and crunch. Reaching for my phone, I find googly eye emojis from Emma, who's clearly looking for an update. I wasn't ready to rehash everything last night, and I know she must be foaming at the mouth by now for details. Really, it's amazing she didn't storm my office today in person. That's unusual restraint for someone
as impetuous and nosy as she can be.
Good Lord! When did it get to be ten-thirty? It's shocking to realize how much time has passed, although I feel a smug sense of satisfaction that I've knocked out another two thousand words. If I keep up this pace, I could have this book finished in another two months. Give or take. Maybe. If the stars align and the polar ice caps become beaches. Crap. Who am I kidding?
The further vibration of my phone signals Emma's impatience as I relent and put her out of her misery.
"Josie's House of Ill Repute," I say breezily, giggling slightly at the moment of silence on the other end before Emma launches into her shotgun round of questions.
"How did it go? You're giggling, and you never giggle. That must be good. Did Heath agree? Did you create a schedule? Was he shocked? How hard was it to convince him? Josie…are you there?"
"Yes, I'm here. I was waiting for you to take a breath! Do you want me to answer any of those questions, or do you want to keep asking more questions?"
"I want answers, damnit! Stop teasing me."
My laugh mocks her through the line, until finally, I give her the words she's dying to hear. "Listen to this…"
After ten minutes of listening to Emma's gasps and sighs as I recount our dinner powwow, I finally wind down before voicing my biggest concern. "Em, what if I can't do this? Do you really think I can keep both of these guys interested long term? It's not like I've had much luck with managing even one man in ages."
"Stop it! Of course you can. If anything, this should take the pressure off. You aren't under a microscope with one guy. You get time to breathe and switch things up in between. Besides," Emma adds pragmatically, "if things fall apart with one, you have a safety net. It's unlikely you would find both collapsing at once."
"Please don't even put that out into the universe! I'm nervous enough as it is. By the way, you'll never guess who we ran into last night—Simon Westcott."
"Get out! Where? I've been watching for him ever since I heard he was floating around the city. I thought it was just a rumor. How did he look? Did you meet him? Was he surrounded by girls? Was he an asshole? Please don't tell me he's an asshole. It kills me to find out a hot guy is a douche. Can't just one successful, sexy man be a good guy? Is that too damn much to ask?"
"Ummm, okay. I ask again, do you want answers or not?" The silence greeting my question finally allows me to expand. "So, he seems really nice. Kind of beaten down, if you know what I mean. Like life has just gotten too heavy. Apparently, he lives in Mark's building, so when we saw him in the restaurant, Mark invited him over. He has a dog that Heath was supposed to check out today."
"What did you talk about? Did you get any interesting gossip?"
"No, it was really chill. Mark and Heath and I had just finally relaxed after wrapping up our negotiations when he stepped in. All the chatter was pretty superficial until the guys started teasing me about my book. Did you know that Heath read The Duke's Rose?"
"Did he?" Emma sounds pleased with herself. "I'm beginning to like that man more every day. He may not be as sexy as Mark Isaacs, but he doesn't miss a beat and he sure knows how to take a hint."
"Yeah well, you might have traumatized him with Madison Shane's tentacle sex." I laugh. "Although truthfully, he seemed mildly entertained more than anything. At any rate, he said he agreed with you and that perhaps my book needed a bit more steam, but he was happy to try to inspire me."
Emma's peals of laughter have me giggling with her.
"Then Mark said he was happy to help my research as well. Poor Simon was trying to make points when he asked what kind of research help I needed, saying that with all of the extra time on his hands, he'd be happy to help, too! I almost had a heart attack. He must have thought I was a total idiot as I rushed to assure him that the guys were providing more research than I could possibly need right now." I start giggling again, only to realize that Emma has fallen silent on the other end. "Em? You still there?"
"Maybe you should ask him for some research help," Emma says slowly as I gasp at the thought.
"You have to be out of your mind! What the hell would I do with a third guy right now? And I don't think Mark and Heath would be too amused. As much as they like the guy, I got the sense that they were going to start pissing around my chair and staking me as their territory if Mark hadn't changed the subject and dragged Simon out of there."
"Well, let them piss all they want. You can claim as many guys as you want, and you don't need to pee on someone's leg to do it," Emma says drily. "Consider it hedging your bets. If nothing else, it never hurts to have more players in the dugout, ready to bat."
"Ok, Emma, you really do need to lay off the reverse harem books for a while. You've got me already considering a threesome. I think we need to draw a line in the sand. If you want a harem so badly, it's time you find one and leave me out of it. I'm barely treading water as it is."
"You're swimming like a fish, stop pretending otherwise. And who mentioned threesomes? I said date two men at a time, which includes sex. I never said anything about sex with more than one man in the same room. Although, if the thought has crossed your mind, I highly encourage it. This has all the hallmarks of an inferno. Let's see how long it can burn before it flames out."
"Jesus, if that happens, you're going to have to gather my ashes and sprinkle me off the top floor of Liberty Place as a memorial to all the women who died of an o-verdose, if you get my drift. At least if I'm going down in flames, I hope it comes to that."
"We should all live to die such a valiant death," Emma vows. "Your sisters-in-arms salute you. Although, I'm sure at any time, someone would be willing to step in and take one for the team."
"Say goodnight, Emma. I've got to get some sleep, especially if I'm meeting up with Mark tomorrow."
"I'll be waiting for the blow-by-blow. You know, you might want to do a few stretching and toning exercises first. Maybe practice with some whistling."
Why does it give me such satisfaction to hang up on my best friend? Oh yeah, because she's not wrong.
* * *
Bored by all the polite conversation, I wave my fan and smile blandly at the others, hoping I don't look as insipid as all the young ladies scattered around the room. I hate house parties as much as I hate balls, and I must have been mad to ever agree to step foot in Lord Roderick's home.
Inevitably, the lure of leaving the heat of London for a stay in the country was too much to resist. At the very least, the relief of being able to breathe fresh air for a few moments each day has lifted my spirits tremendously.
I certainly don't resent the fact that the chaperones steer their young charges away from someone as notorious as me—a widow whispered to take lovers indiscriminately. If only they knew the truth. The only lover I want right now is Cedric, contrary to my small indiscretion with Roderick. I refuse to linger on that failure, even though Cedric has forgiven me. Mostly because I refuse to acknowledge that in some small way, I want to repeat it.
A small commotion in the corridor alerts us to a new arrival. Dressed in dashing military garb, the medals on his regimentals designate him as a major. Could this be the mysterious Major Percy that I've heard people buzzing about? The weariness in his gaze signals a man who has seen war firsthand and most likely will have to face it again. I wonder if the cane is a permanent accessory or just a tool to ease a temporary affliction?
Tongue lolling, the large white dog standing attentively at his side is the only symbol of cheer heralding his presence. I'm annoyed by all the furtive whispering behind waving fans as the ladies watch him limp to a position near the fireplace as if searching for warmth. The beast walks in perfect step like another soldier at arms, protecting his flank from the less than subtle murmurs. It's unusual to see an animal in a drawing room, and the fact that he acts as if he's entitled to be here amuses me. Partly because the others are obviously so scandalized.
I'm intrigued by the major's presence here, although the admiration of the ladies' glance
s indicate hero worship in the making. Only Roderick's arrival seems to quell the furtive glances as he strides to where Major Percy now stands, reading a newspaper.
Except it's not a newspaper, it's pages from my book, which Roderick rips from Percy's hands, casting them into the fireplace. All the blood drains from my face as I watch the pages curl while Percy reaches a hand toward me…
* * *
Pale sunlight filters into the room as I jerk awake, the dream fading quickly. A soft meow questions why I'm up at this hour, but Daisy takes advantage of my drowsy state to coerce some snuggles and rubs. Small pinpricks of pain erupt across my chest as Daisy's nails penetrate the thin sheet.
"God, Daisy, knock it off." My hand flattens across her paws, forcing her to stop stabbing me mercilessly. I'm all for a show of affection, but love shouldn't hurt. Gentle purrs fill the air as I stroke her back, and she flops bonelessly across my body, twisting to expose her belly, paws grabbing at my hands to pull them closer.
Trying to recall my dream, I drift in a half sleep, drowsily recalling a large white dog but not much else. Daisy would be affronted to know I was dreaming of her nemesis, as she's made her disdain of canines in general well-known. I've watched her face down dogs more than ten times her size with a swat of her claws and her very impressive hiss.
I'm not certain why she's so antisocial, not that I ever intend to bring a dog home, but I'm afraid it speaks volumes for her character. She doesn't like having to share the affections of someone she loves. Let's hope Mark and Heath don't follow her example.
As if I conjured him with a thought, my phone screen lights up with a message from Mark.
Sexy Chef: Change of plans. I have to go to New York tonight.
Damn, I was looking forward to our dinner after getting in another day of writing. Well, at least I'll have more time to stay focused. I could call Heath, but he's got Tracey tonight.
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