The Lovin’ Is Easy (Triple Diamond Book 1)

by Gemma Snow

  She took one final lunge, lost her balance and dragged three quilts and two pillows off the bed with her, landing in a very undignified heap of bed, broken lamp, marbles and fluffy little asshole, who had just popped up onto Madison’s knee and started licking her face.

  And that was the moment Christian and Ryder walked into the room. And immediately lost it.

  “Are you okay?” Ryder asked. The stupid dust bunny was now in her hair, knotting it as best as possible with kneading motions that were going to be a real bitch to untangle. Ryder tried, he really did. It was more than could be said for Christian, who leaned back against the door jamb and took in the whole scene in front of him, the lamp, the bed and the damn cat and grinned at her expense like it was fucking Christmas.

  “I’ve got a bruised ego, but otherwise I’ll be fine,” Madison said, her voice a little bitter. “Can you take your fucking cat back, please?”

  Ryder’s eyes went a little wide and she realized the curse had taken him off-guard. He recovered quickly, though.

  “That’s not our cat,” he said. “There’s a litter in the barn, but I didn’t bring any into the house.”

  Madison picked up the scruffy thing. It was soft grays and whites, with bright blue eyes and that silly little smile. How can such a small thing cause so much chaos?

  “Well, it’s an undeniable fact that there is a cat in my bedroom in your house. So what should we do about it?” The cat, apparently listening, walked from Madison’s hand and into the crook of her arm, so she was resting her head against Madison’s chest and shoulder.

  “I think I know what the kitten wants you to do,” Christian said, the amusement at her predicament never leaving his eyes. “She just wants some affection, that’s all.” His voice got a little colorful and passionate, just as it had when he’d spoken about the crops.

  “Well, I think I’m fresh out of affection,” Madison said, even as she somehow, some way, brought one hand up to the kitten’s ears and stroked.

  “And our work here is done,” Ryder said, turning for the door. “We didn’t mean to burst in like that—we just wanted to make sure you were all right. They must have heard that crash in Helena.”

  Madison nodded and stood from the pile of blankets, still holding the devil cat, who purred in contentment into her shoulder. “Where can I find a broom, to sweep up the broken glass?” Neither man responded. In fact, the room had gone still as a tomb, with the exception of the cat’s soft breathing. “Guys?”

  Christian swallowed. Hard. Hmm, he’s not exactly the kind of guy to lose his cool. What’s up his ass all of a sudden? “We’re going to leave,” Christian said. “Now.”

  And in that second, Madison realized exactly what had turned the amused, smirking men into marble statues. She had long ago taken to treating herself to expensive lingerie, well before Joshua had entered her life. The pieces weren’t for anyone else as much as they were for her, frilly little indulgences that made her feel sexy and soft and happy.

  And right now, standing in the guest bedroom in Ryder and Christian’s house, in a slinky pale rose teddy, decorated across the top with lace trim, she felt wanted.

  Especially since the expressions in both men’s eyes were laden and overt, neither of them hiding their obvious interest. You’re not exactly hiding it either, Madison.

  “Ms. Hollis,” Ryder said, in an obvious attempt to break the blanket of tension that had descended upon the room—hot, promising, making her want to succumb to all sorts of things. “Don’t you know it’s unkind to wear fur?”

  He nodded toward the cat and Madison couldn’t help it. She laughed. She laughed until the little squirt in her arms woke up and jumped onto the bed with an expression of annoyance. She laughed until even Christian’s rough face held the hint of a genuine smile. She laughed until her chest hurt and she couldn’t catch a deep breath.

  “What the hell is happening?” Madison finally asked, sitting on the bed. She reached over to the chair near the window and snagged a sleep robe, which she tied around her, promising herself that she didn’t regret covering up her body, promising herself she didn’t miss their hot perusals.

  “Short version, you threw a temper tantrum over a cat,” Christian said. “Long version, well, I actually think I’d like to hear that story myself.”

  Ryder nodded in agreement.

  “There’s no story,” Madison said, picking up the blankets and looking for shards of glass. Upon closer inspection, the lamp hadn’t broken. She’d been seeing the reflections of the loose marbles from the candleholder—thank God for small victories. “This thing woke me up by sticking his tongue down my ear. It’s four…twenty-six in San Francisco right now, so I tried to get the runt to leave. She wasn’t having it.”

  “Like I said, temper tantrum,” Christian teased. He teased, and not in a way that held disdain or annoyance underneath. Oh, this is bad, this is real bad. The expression in his eyes spoke of punishments for bad behaviors, and Madison’s body grew hot in the wake of such intensity. But he didn’t voice his thoughts aloud. Instead, he just continued, “We’re going to make some breakfast—anything you don’t like?”

  Madison shook her head. “I’ll eat anything. I’m not picky.”

  Christian laughed, a genuine laugh, and his eyes sparkled, and she knew exactly what was going through his mind, because it was going through her mind, too—would she eat anything they offered her? I’d be more than willing to give it just a little taste…

  No. Distraction. But even after they left, taking their innuendos and wandering gazes with them, Madison had a hard time remembering why wanting these men was a bad idea.

  After breakfast, she hunkered down at Ryder and Christian’s kitchen table overlooking the great expanses of crops out to the west. Their home was smaller than Holmwood, but her entire apartment building in California would have been smaller than Holmwood, and she liked the cozy feel of the place, even with the innately male design. Still, Ryder and Christian were clean and kept house well enough for two bachelors, so she didn’t have any complaints.

  Well, except one tiny, teeny, little one. Being in their house, surrounded by their belongings and scents, distracted her. Big-time. Though three stacks of legal documents sat before her on the wooden table top, Madison’s mind ran hot at the images of what could be done with the leather couch a room away, or whether or not the counters could hold her weight.

  Her phone buzzed, another distraction from the workload.

  How’s the farm?

  Even through text, Madison could just picture Lily’s sardonic half-smile. Where Madison was definitely the city girl that Ryder and Christian seemed to think she was—if the high heels and pencil skirt hadn’t been indication enough—Lily had no problem getting down and dirty. Her flower shop in downtown San Francisco had been the end result of a horticulture biology degree, and she’d spent a fair amount of time touring the wilds of California’s national forests, trying to drag Madison along with her. That Madison was now the one out in the woods had been the source of endless amusement for her sister from the start.

  Huge. It’s beautiful out here—you should come see it before I get rid of it.

  The note pinged and disappeared into the air.

  Still planning to sell, then?

  Yes.

  Lily hadn’t been subtle about her opinion that Madison should just give things a few days before delving right into unloading the place. But where Madison went by the numbers and facts and figures, Lily had always had a creative mind that saw big, exciting pictures and often meant things didn’t get done. Oh, she finished projects—her own successful business was a prime example. But she’d also tried ballet, art, photography and a brief stint as an actress, so Madison usually took her first suggestion with a grain of salt.

  Plus, what could she do with a ranch, after all? Triple Diamond was a massive place and she didn’t even scratch the surface of the kind of knowledge needed to run it.

  But you know who does know
how to run a ranch?

  Ugh, so not the time.

  Not that there was ever a good time for her mind to take rollercoaster loops around the subject of the two hot cowboys currently working in the barn and out in the fields. While she was in here, not getting her paperwork done.

  Thankfully, work had been a little lax on the amount of stuff she needed to do while on her trip. The spreadsheets were still piling up in her email inbox, but at least she wasn’t responsible for any phone calls—which might have had something to do with the apologetic I don’t know how good the cell service will be out in the mountains. She hadn’t known, but, of course, that wasn’t why she had said it.

  Proof of a healthy working environment, Madison. Psh, nothing about working for the Silicon Valley tech titans was healthy. Those companies were constantly demanding and she tended to bear the brunt of the work at Daniels and Hark. But the job paid and it gave her a taste of what she had thought she had always wanted to do.

  Except, hell, she didn’t even remember why she did it most days. The joy of pulling off a great event rarely accompanied the lectures and conferences she planned and, though it paid well, San Francisco was such a wildly expensive place to live that she couldn’t put much money away. Certainly not enough to make any sort of big change.

  “Looks like you made a friend.” Christian’s voice came through the back door to the kitchen a second before he did. His hair was tied into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck and a slight sheen of sweat covered the enticing column of his throat.

  She looked at the small mop of gray fur stretched out over one stack of legal documents. A little pink Post-it note peeked out from between two kitten paws. She had tried to put the pathetic little scrap outside. This was a farm after all, and cats liked farms, didn’t they? And hadn’t Ryder said something about a family of kittens in the barn?

  But the cat hadn’t wanted to hang out outside and had made her opinion on the matter impossible to ignore by howling on just the other side of the door until Madison had been so fed up she’d let the furry brat back into the house, after damning it to hell and naming it Lucifer. Satisfied with having her demands attended to, Lucifer had given Madison a rough, sandpapery kiss before falling asleep on the table.

  “I just didn’t want to listen to the howling anymore,” Madison said, her voice a bit tart. It wasn’t the little fur ball’s fault that she found herself so completely ill at ease with everything she’d worked so hard to achieve.

  “Are you…are you okay?” Christian narrowed his eyes and looked at her discerningly. The change she’d seen in her bedroom that morning seemed to linger. He didn’t give off an irritated or even lustful vibe, but something comfortable and easy, as though he genuinely gave a damn about her answer, despite their icy and heated exchanges. He didn’t seem all that comfortable asking her about her feelings, but Madison had to admit she probably looked a sight and a half at the moment. The papers were spread around her on the desk in a haphazard mess she would never have allowed in the office and her hair had come down from its bun, spilling out over her shoulders and back in fluffy waves. Add the tension in her neck and the repeated motion of her fingers at her temples and yeah, it was pretty obvious that she fell square on the other side of okay.

  “I’m fine,” she said. Yeah, Christian radiated sex and temptation, but that didn’t make her want to confess to all the self-doubt and frustration rioting around in her brain right now. It’s just downtime. I’m usually so busy I don’t even have time to think about how fulfilled I am… I am fulfilled. Damn it, I’m fulfilled.

  “You’ll forgive me for saying you don’t look totally fine,” he said. He rummaged around in the fridge and pulled out a pitcher, before pouring her a glass of lemonade and plunking it down on the table beside her papers. Slowly, lazily, he slid into the seat beside her. “Is it the ranch?” he asked. “Because we’re going to help you with that. We care a lot about this place and we want to see it succeed.”

  Madison smiled and took a drink of the lemonade. To her surprise, it was…good.

  “You’re right.” She sighed. Sure, she talked to her friends at home, to Lily, who had been first a cousin, then a sister after the accident, and always her best friend. She didn’t keep her feelings bottled up.

  And yet. The way Christian looked at her right then, with those heavy eyes and the slight scowl at the corner of his mouth, made her want to tell him the stuff she didn’t tell anyone else, made her want to give voice to what had happened between her and Joshua, made her want to wonder, aloud, with an audience, why she continued to do a job that was driving her into ground.

  But she had only met this man yesterday, and though he—and Ryder—enticed her, made her want things she hadn’t given in to in a very long time, made her want to give in to them, it wouldn’t be a wise idea to open up to him. Already Triple Diamond Ranch had a strange and unexpected hold on her, and part of her, deep down, was afraid of what that meant.

  “I mean, the ranch is part of it,” Madison said, despite her better judgment. “But there’s more to it, too.”

  He nodded, understanding that she didn’t want to go into the ‘more to it’. A lock of hair fell over his eyes and gave him a dangerous look, one she shouldn’t want to get closer to.

  “There’s always more to it,” he said, like he knew. “Not to overstep my bounds, but I’ve been told I give one hell of a massage. Would that help?”

  “I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Madison said after the moment had stretched between them, wide and tense. A spark of something wicked crossed those dark brown eyes, as tempting as it was challenging.

  “Just to help you relax,” Christian said, making an obvious effort not to smirk. “Nothing else.”

  Her defenses were down and she wanted him to touch her, wanted to feel those rough, calloused hands against her skin, against her neck. Not only was she sure it would feel damn good, but Madison knew that his touch would be the distraction she craved from the madness of everything going on in her head. So she nodded, a little tentatively, and turned her back toward him, pulling her wild hair over her shoulders so he could put his hands to her.

  Christian moved, sliding his rough palms over her neck, and Madison nearly jerked out of her seat. Her skin burned hot where he had touched her, running circles of potent desire around her waist, over her shoulders, wherever he whispered his hands toward her.

  Pull back, Madison. This is Bad Idea 101. Except did Bad Idea 101 include a curious questioning for how Ryder’s hands would also feel on her back? Because that felt a lot more like Bad Idea, the grad program. Would giving in to flirtations with one of these sexy cowboys make her off-limits to the other? And why did it matter so much to her if it did?

  “You’re not relaxing,” Christian whispered, his voice low and deep, just near her ear. “The point here is to help you relax.” God, the husky tone of his voice made it all too clear clear that if she wanted to indulge in another kind of relaxing, he’d volunteer for the position in an instant.

  “Just a lot on my mind,” Madison replied honestly.

  Letting him touch her was a bad idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop it, even if this was supposed to be nothing more than a business relationship, even if she had just met him yesterday. But none of that kept her from wanting more, from needing more of his touch, of his skin, of the deep press his fingers made into the knots at her shoulders and neck. His closeness made Madison was all too aware of his strength and size. Christian emanated a lazy sort of power that had her aching behind her slack and rubbing her legs together in a desperate need for more contact, more touch.

  “Would it help if I took off my blouse?” she asked. “I have a camisole underneath.” It was official—she had lost her goddamn mind.

  “If you’d feel comfortable, then sure,” Christian replied. “Whatever helps.”

  And because his voice sounded just a little husky and a little wanting, a shade darker than it had before, Madison d
id, sliding loose each of the buttons on the front of her shirt and carefully, before she slid the silk blouse off her arms and tossed it over the chair beside her. The black camisole could hardly be considered revealing, but nonetheless she felt exposed and wicked in it, her arms and shoulders and back bare to him. You started this, Madison. Now, you have to see it through.

  Well, from where she sat, that didn’t seem like too much of a hardship.

  Her breathing was shallow and Christian ground his teeth together to keep from doing something stupid, like pressing his lips to the back of her smooth neck. He could tell that Madison was engaged in some sort of internal battle about whether or not this was a good idea. He knew for a goddamn fact that it wasn’t. Hell, ever since she’d sat behind him on the horse yesterday afternoon, he’d been struggling with the possessive desire to push her up against a wall and bury himself inside her. Then, seeing her in that little pink lingerie thing that morning—Jesus, it would give any man fantasies for a lifetime. Now, she sat with her bare back turned to him, awaiting his touch. His stupid idea. This whole situation could have easily been avoided, but no, he had to help a distressed-looking near stranger by offering her a back massage? Maybe he had fallen off too many motorcycles, like Ryder always said.

  He had wanted to push her, to make her uncomfortable, to flirt and innuendo his way past those fucking high and mighty walls she’d been sporting when she’d first driven up. He liked the idea of cracking her façade, and so he’d flirted, teased, given her the look he knew women couldn’t resist.

  Except with his hands on her back now, Christian knew that he wasn’t being entirely honest with himself. Deep down, part of him had been flirting with this woman for real, because she made him burn, deep and low, made him want to do something wild and stupid, made him want to do her. He’d thought she would crack, but she hadn’t. She hadn’t bowed or kowtowed. She’d parried his remarks right back to him and she’d done it well. He had to give her that, even though there was a whole hell of a lot more he wanted to give her.