But I’m much too responsible for that, and, more importantly, last night was perfect. It was perfect, and it’s over. Why take a chance on messing up such a great memory?
“Good morning,” I say to both of them. “I’ll be right back.” I make a gesture toward the clothing in my hand and disappear back into the bedroom.
When I return, Lucas is bringing a plate of sausages to the dining table, and Alex, who was pouring coffee, holds a mug out to me.
“Thank you,” I say, cupping my hand around it and inhaling the caffeinated aroma.
“You didn’t need to dress,” Lucas says. “Breakfast is casual around here.”
“I have to leave,” I say. “I have work.”
“Do you have time to eat first?” Alex asks.
I grab a sausage link, take a bite, then set it on the edge of one of the plates. After another sip, I set my coffee down too. “I’m good. Thank you both for last night. It was…” I search for the right word. “Unforgettable.” I give each of them a sweet smile and a kiss on the cheek, then grab my purse.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lucas says. “I’ll get changed and drive you.”
“No, thanks,” I say, already tapping my phone to arrange for a cab. “I’m all set.”
“We’ll call you later. What’s your number?” Alex asks, reaching for his phone from the counter.
But I’m already on my way out. “I’m sorry. I need to dash. Thanks again!” I pull the handle of the door but only get it open a few inches before it's slammed shut by a strong arm reaching past me.
12
Ruin It
Zoe
“Hey!” I turn, fuming, to find Lucas behind me, his arm blocking me in on one side. I slide free of him, needing space to vent my anger. “What the fuck!? I need to leave.”
“I don't think you're rushing out for work,” Lucas says.
My temper flares. “Oh, are you a psychic too?”
“We’d like to get your number. Why are you running out on us?” Lucas asks.
Alex joins his brother, and now they’re both blocking the door. “We had an amazing night, and you're leaving us with a peck on the cheek?” he says.
This is what I meant. This is them, ruining a great experience. Why didn't they just let me go peacefully?
“I can leave whenever and however I choose,” I say through clenched teeth. “Move out of my way.”
Alex folds his gorgeous arms across his broad chest. “Tell us you don't want to see us again and you can be on your way. Tell us you didn't have a great time.”
The last of my frayed hold on my temper snaps. Since they’re bound and determined to piss me off, I’ll just return the favor. “I had a great time — and I don’t want to see you again.”
“Why the hell not?” Lucas retorts.
I sigh. “It's going to be a great memory. Please stop spoiling it.”
For just an instant, what looks like hurt flickers through their eyes and I feel terrible — until their expressions harden into anger again. “You’re not —” Lucas starts, but then his phone rings and he moves to answer it. “Lucas Wolf. Yeah. Yeah. All right.”
He ends the call and looks at his brother. “New client, urgent.” Then back at me. “We’re not finished.”
“Oh, yes we are. Because I might have considered seeing you again. But this?” I gesture back and forth between me and the door, where his brother is still standing. “This little stunt you just pulled? Guarantees I won’t.” I turn my angry glare on Alex. “Now get out of my way.”
A muscle moves in his jaw, but he steps aside and I storm out, slamming the door. As I stride down the hall, I’m jolted by a sudden loud thud behind me.
The elevator opens immediately and I get on. Beneath my simmering fury as I punch the button for the ground floor is an unwelcome layer of pain.
Dammit. It was perfect. Why did they have to ruin it?
13
Done With Us
Lucas
The reverberations from the slammed door echo in our ears. I toss my phone onto the counter. “Fuck.”
Alex turns and bashes his fist into the wall. “Fuck!”
“We screwed that up, little brother.” I’m not sure if I’m more angry at Zoe or myself.
“We can fix it.” The stubborn set to my brother’s jaw reminds me of when we were eight and he accidentally smashed my model airplane to bits. He spent hours gluing all the pieces back together. It was never the same, of course, but I couldn’t stay mad at him.
“Superglue’s not gonna work this time,” I say, and get the ghost of a smile.
“Flowers.” Alex starts checking things off on his fingers. “An apology card. Gifts. We’ll wear her down.” He meets my eyes. “She likes us, Luke.”
“A lot of women like us.”
“True enough.” He arches a brow. “Let’s say we go out tonight and find another beautiful blonde who wants to come home with both of us. Who wants to do all the same things Zoe did, and more. Would that satisfy you?”
I feel the wrongness of that scenario as soon as he says it. “No, goddammit. It wouldn’t.” And that’s the hell of it. In one night, she somehow got her hooks into both of us — and then walked away like it didn’t mean a thing.
“So we fight for her.” His tone makes it a challenge.
I nod. Neither of us has ever believed in quitting. “We fight.”
“Good.” He makes the mental shift to work. “Who’s the client?”
“I don’t know. Stacy didn’t give me the details, just said she had a call from someone wanting an immediate consult.”
“Better get moving, then. I’ll see you at the office.” Fortunately, his apartment’s in the same building so he doesn’t have far to go.
“Take some food with you,” I say, looking at the table I’d set with such care. A fresh flare of anger — and determination — hits me.
If Zoe thinks she’s done with us, she’s going to learn the Wolf brothers aren’t so easily dismissed.
14
That’s The End
Zoe
I spend the day on an emotional roller coaster. One moment I’m angry, and the next I get a twinge between my legs and I’m overcome by lust. And then I remember the brothers’ high-handed tactics and get mad all over again.
But mostly, I try to suppress both feelings so I can concentrate on work. It’s a crisp autumn day, and our fall clothing is selling like gangbusters. What with keeping an eye on the sales staff, customers, dressing rooms, presentation, and inventory, there’s more than enough to keep me busy.
When I take a very quick mid-morning break, there’s a text from Megan on my phone. How was your night last night? Did you make it rain?
How to respond? I have the weird feeling of not wanting to disappoint her with my twin tale of woe. But she’d say that was silly, and she’d be right. Emergency summit, I text back. José Domingo’s, 1 pm. Bring Tara.
Are you okay? she sends back, and I love that her main concern is my well-being and not the juicy details. She’s my bestie for a lot of reasons, but her big heart is one of them.
Yes. Give you details later. Megan knows how things can get at the boutique, so she won’t mistake my brevity for rudeness. I go back to work feeling a little better, armed with the knowledge that my friends will have my back.
When I get to our favorite Mexican restaurant, they’ve already snagged a booth. I slide in and eye Tara’s margarita. “Damn. I wish I could have one of those.”
“Here.” Tara hands me her drink, and I let myself enjoy one sparing sip. Mmm, delicious.
“Lucky you,” Megan says, patting her baby bump with a grin. “The guys are so protective of me. I love them, but sometimes I want to bust loose and do everything they think I shouldn’t.” When I slide the margarita back across the table, she continues, “So. You, hot guys, last night, emergency summit … what gives?”
Tara’s eyes get big. “Wait, what?”
I guess Megs didn’t fill
her in. “Last night I got frisked by a couple of super hot guys.”
“Why did you get frisked?” Tara demands. “What were you doing?” She also knows me too well.
“Using the men’s room because there was a huge line for the women’s.”
She frowns. “And for that they frisked you? Doesn’t sound right.”
“They have a security firm,” I explain. “They were working the match because one of the fighters has a stalker and they were trying to find her. But they didn’t explain any of that to me at the time. They just … got frisky.”
“And then?” Megan prompts.
“We ran into each other on the way out and they invited me for a drink.”
The girls lean in. “And then?” Tara says in a hushed voice.
“I spent the night with them.”
“Ohmygod! What is it with you two?” Tara claps a hand over her mouth and looks from me to Megan. “Sorry, Meg; you know I love your men. But one guy at a time is trouble enough.”
I snort. “You got that right! I was looking for two times the fun, and I got two times the frustration.”
Megan doesn’t say anything. She’s watching me, carefully, understanding maybe better than anyone on earth the range of things I could be feeling right now. “What happened?” she says quietly.
A waitress comes over and I ask for an iced tea, promising myself that I’ll have a drink later, right after work. “Are you ready to order?” I ask my friends. “I don’t have much time.”
We’ve been here so many times, we don’t need menus. We all order our favorites, and as soon as the waitress walks away, Tara and Megan’s eyes are back on me.
“To be fair, I had a great night. It was extraordinary, actually. I have never had so many orgasms—”
“Zoe!” Tara scolds me as she looks around to see who might overhear.
“I beg your pardon,” I say in an overly proper Mary Poppins-type voice. “I have never had such a superb night. It was truly delightful.” Tara laughs.
It was a hell of a night, I admit again to myself. All those hands on me, two mouths on me, all the stamina … I sigh.
“But…” Megan prompts.
“But this morning they turned into assholes, trying to tell me I couldn’t leave.” Come to think of it, they were way too bossy when I first met them. I should have known better.
My friends are looking alarmed. “Wait a minute,” Tara says. “They didn’t want you to leave? Were they trying to make you their live-in sex slave, or something?”
“No, they’d made breakfast, and they got all bent out of shape when I said I couldn’t stay and eat with them.”
“They made breakfast?” Tara sounds almost awed. I’m reminded then of her crappy ex-boyfriend Neil, who often rushed out of her place after they had sex, and never seemed to want her to stay over at his place. Compared to that loser, maybe she’s thinking my story doesn’t sound too bad.
“Making breakfast was fine. It was nice of them. But then I told them I needed to leave for work, and they literally blocked the door!” I explain.
Megan is looking at me with an arched brow. “This all sounds strange. What aren’t you telling us?”
“Nothing,” I say as the waitress delivers my drink. “That’s what happened.” But that’s not exactly right, and as soon as I think it, she senses it.
“They blocked the door over you not having time for breakfast?” she presses.
I sigh. “They wanted my number. I didn’t want to give it to them.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “Nothing like that.”
“But you don’t want to see them again, after an amazing night,” Tara says.
“Look,” I say. “Not every set of twins—”
“They’re twins?” Tara gasps, and Megan’s gaze sharpens. I guess I forgot to mention that little detail.
“Yes. But they’re not like your Beasts, Megan. I was looking for fun, not forever.”
“Same thing I was looking for,” she reminds me. “Asshole ex recovery therapy, nothing more.”
“Yeah, but then they got all bossy.”
Megan gives me a look, and I wave a hand. “I know, I know.” Her men are nothing if not bossy. “Alpha males and all that. But, Megs, these guys are not your guys. They’re just not.”
“Let’s see. Extraordinary physiques, check; extraordinary sex, check; alpha dominance, check. Exactly how are they different?” she says.
“You’re not helping. You’re supposed to be supporting me in my choices.”
“I do support you. I’m just wondering exactly why you don’t want to see them again.”
“Maybe it’s not them,” I admit after a moment’s reflection. “Maybe it’s me.”
“What do you mean?” Tara says.
“I’m not Megan. I mean, yeah, hunky twins for the win when it comes to mind-blowing sex, but outside the bedroom, can either of you really imagine one man giving me orders, let alone two?”
“No,” they both say simultaneously.
“Exactly. So it just wouldn’t work. And I knew that, which is why I tried to leave without making any promises or giving them my number. But they didn’t want to hear it.”
“Did you actually say it for them to hear?” Tara wants to know.
“When they made an issue of my leaving, yes. I told them I didn’t want to see them again.”
Megan takes a sip of her water. “And they accepted that?”
“They let me go when I made it very clear I would not be staying. But they weren’t happy about it.”
There’s a long silence. “Well, I guess that’s the end of that,” Tara says at last.
“Yeah.” And even after all this discussion, the pain I feel when I say it takes me by surprise.
15
You Don’t Go Anywhere
Zoe
Back at the store, I’m still busy as ever, but there’s a cloud hanging over me that I can’t seem to shake. I try to distract myself by thinking about after-work options: hit a club for a cold drink and a hot man? Call on my friends again for margaritas or martinis? Stay in with a hot bath, a book and a glass of wine?
None of the options feels quite right, and my indecision only adds to my discontent.
When the last customer has left and the boutique is closed, I still haven’t decided how I’m going to spend my night. I’m heading toward the back office when someone knocks sharply on the shop’s front door. I consider ignoring it — the closed sign is on display and store hours are posted near the door — but something about the sound of the knock makes me stop. Then the summons is repeated, loud and urgent, and I can tell it’s not a persistent shopper.
Imagine my surprise, my excitement, my irritation — all of these fight for dominance and irritation wins — when I find Alex and Lucas Wolf at the boutique’s front door.
For a moment, I wonder how they found me, but then I remember that I told them where I worked. Also — duh, Zoe — they do investigations and they inspected my driver’s license last night. They probably know my entire work and education history, and the last thing I ordered online.
But they do not have the right to stalk me. I jam my key into the lock and open the door, wishing it opened outward so I could knock one of them over, as if I could move one of their big, solid bodies.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” I snap. Angry as I am, I’m also mindful that I’m still at work, and there’s a security camera recording my actions. I’m grateful for the protection of the camera, but it’s also keeping me from letting the expletives fly.
Damn, they look good. Lucas exudes cool confidence in khakis and a crisp, white shirt, and Alex is rocking well-worn jeans that cling to his thighs just right. Why do these jerks have to be so yummy?
Before they have a chance to get a word in, I continue. “I think I made myself clear this morning. There’s no reason for you to be here.”
“We’re here to escort yo
u home, Zoe,” Alex says.
“What the hell?” I suddenly remember that the security camera doesn’t record sound, so I’m free to express myself, as long as I don’t actually punch these guys. “We had one night together. You don’t own me, you don’t control me, and I sure as hell am not letting you come to my home. In fact, if you—”
Lucas cuts me off. I could swear that Alex is holding back a smirk, but his brother is deadly serious. “Zoe. We’re here on business.”
“What are you talking about?” My scowl is equal parts bafflement and irritation. “I didn’t hire you.”
“No. Your father did.”
As I stare at him in stunned silence, he pushes the door open further. “Zoe,” he says gently. “Let us in.”
I step back, too shocked to do anything else, and they quickly come in and close the door. While Lucas locks it, Alex escorts me toward the employees-only section in the rear of the building. His hand is barely touching the small of my back, but I feel it like a brand.
“What’s going on?” I say as Lucas joins us. “Why would my father hire you, and what does it have to do with me?”
Alex no longer seems amused. He’s in work mode, his eyes sharp, scanning every inch of my workplace. “Let’s talk when we get you home.”
We go out the back entrance, and Lucas, who still has my keys, again deals with locking up. Alex doesn’t let me cross the parking lot; he keeps me there, shielded between him and his brother, until the door is secure.
I’m starting to get freaked out. Our encounter at the MMA match was annoying, but in retrospect seems almost lighthearted. I haven’t really seen the brothers in pure work mode until now, and it’s both impressive and unnerving.
When Lucas is done with the door, he heads toward my car, while Alex shepherds me to a black SUV that’s just a few feet away. They’ve thought of every contingency, it seems. “Do you have sunglasses?” Alex asks.
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