Dawn, Dakota - Blessed Times Two (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Dakota Dawn

  Thanking Carlo for the cinnamon, Branda took out a stick and swirled it around in her drink. Taking a swig, she didn’t taste any cinnamon. Swirling the cinnamon again, she decided to take a different approach. Raising the cinnamon stick to her mouth, she slid it in and sucked.

  After sucking on her cinnamon stick a third time, she looked up. “Damn, this is good. You guys need to try it.”

  They all took a stick and swirled it around in their drinks.

  “I’ll have to remember this. My future dates can tease me when they suck on the cinnamon stick,” Cason said while wiggling his eyebrows.

  Carlo bumped fists with Cason and nodded in agreement.

  Carlo finished his drink then wiped his hand across his lips. “You were getting pretty good with the knife throwing. You should practice throwing darts so you can take Gaven down. He’d never suspect you. He’s been on a winning streak for a few years now.”

  “Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Cason answered in an excited rush. “Trent, let’s go get the dartboard and darts. We can begin her training today.”

  “I don’t see why not. We can all throw some darts as we sample Branda’s drinks. What do you think, Branda?” Trent swung his gaze to hers.

  “Sounds good to me. You guys can go get the dart stuff, and I’ll refill the glasses. This stuff is good.”

  Branda had the drinks poured and was sitting back drinking hers by the time they came back. The music was pulsing through her body. Smiling, she thought about how nice the day had turned out. She was glad she’d come by for tradition’s sake. She loved all of Troy and Trey’s family.

  Once the board was set up, they all took turns throwing the darts. Trent was the best, Cason came in second, Branda was third, and Carlo was the worst. The poor guy couldn’t get a good throw in to save his life.

  Ever mindful of his turn to teach, Cason noticed that Branda had finished her drink. The pitcher of mojitos was gone. “Branda, let Trent teach my brother to actually hit his mark while I teach you to make Brazilian martinis.”

  Going over to him, she watched as he pulled out the items he needed.

  Taking out a cutting board, Cason sliced five limes. Reaching to a shelf below the countertop, he pulled out two cocktail shakers. He handed one shaker to her. Knowing she was a newbie, he slid an ounces-only measuring glass over to her. “Get ready to make the best drink you’ve ever tasted.”

  “I’m ready, although I must confess I liked the last drink a lot.”

  “You’ll like this one even more. Now let’s begin. Drop a lime slice in your shaker.” He had already dropped his in. It was a pattern he continued. Cason would add the ingredient then watch her do it. “Two ounces cachaca. One-and-a-half ounces pomegranate juice. Two teaspoons sugar. A handful of ice. Snap the lid on the shaker and shake ten times.” Cason laughed at her weak attempts to shake the drink. “Just a little bit harder. Good job. Now flip back the lid. See, it has a built-in strainer.”

  “That’s so cool. These are nice shakers. Are we ready to pour the martinis in the glasses?”

  “Yes, pour them slowly through the strainer.” As soon as she had hers poured, they both took a drink.

  She mmm’ed in delight.

  “Since we are making another drink right now, all you have to do is take off the lid and add the two ounces of cachaca, one and half ounces pomegranate juice and two teaspoons sugar. You may need to add a little more ice, but your lime should be able to flavor the drink again. After this batch though you’ll want to throw out the lime and start over with a fresh one.”

  In no time at all, they had the drinks mixed. She noticed that Cason didn’t measure his ingredients. He just eyeballed the amount. She wished she could do that. Maybe she’d try on the next batch.

  Calling the dart throwers over, Cason handed a drink to Carlo, and Branda handed one to Trent.

  The two men took a drink then raised their glasses. Trent toasted, “To tradition set right. We have now all done our part. Branda can throw knives and make damn fine drinks. To tradition. Salute!”

  “Salute!” the other three chimed.

  Three martinis later, Branda asked with a little difficulty, “Why do you think Troy and Trey are attracted to a fat girl like me? I mean as fine as they are they could date models. Thin models. Do you think they’ll grow tired of me? Become embarrassed to be seen in public with me? Maybe I shouldn’t eat so many cookies. Do you think that would help?”

  “Stop with the negative body image. You’re killing me. The twins love your stacked body just the way it is. Who wouldn’t love all those soft, womanly curves? Am I right, guys?” Cason stated confidently.

  “Yeah, I’m sure they love to lick you all over,” Carlo rushed to say.

  Branda’s brow furrowed for a moment then a smile lit her face. “You know, I think you’re right. My body must not be too bad to them. They seem to really like licking me all over.”

  A deep, totally unslurred voice came from behind and slightly to the side of Branda. “I hope the they you are talking about is me and Trey.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Troy watched her, not believing how slurred her words were. Her back was to him, but her three partners in crime could see him quite well. Why was she drunk in the backyard with Trent, Cason, and Carlo? His brother and cousins were not fall-down-drunk, but not sober either.

  “You know the weirdest thing just happened. I heard someone talking, but none of your mouths were moving, and it sounded like Troy. Like maybe I had a hearing mirage.” She took another drink then asked Trent, “Have you ever had a hearing mirage?”

  “No, but if you listen really hard I bet you’ll have another hearing mirage.”

  She said, again in a slur, “I hope so. I miss Troy and Trey. I wonder what they are doing right now. Probably working. They work hard, you know. You know I love them, right?” She sighed deeply, and murmured, “And the things they can do in bed…”

  “I think that’s enough talking about the bedroom,” Troy said before she could continue.

  “Did you guys hear that?”

  All three burst out laughing.

  She frowned. “You heard it, right?”

  Soothing her fears, Troy pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “They all heard it because I was standing right behind you. What I want to know is why my wife-to-be is drunk in the backyard instead of dressed and ready to go out to eat.”

  Trey stepped outside. “I see you found her. Is she ready to go?”

  “I think we’ll be ordering in tonight, thanks to Trent, Cason and Carlo,” Troy answered. She was cute in her current state.

  “Did you hear that? I just had a hearing mirage of Trey. He’s so sweet. I love him, you know.”

  “Who got her drunk?” Trey asked, his eyes zoning in on Trent.

  Holding his hands up in surrender, Trent corrected, “Don’t blame me. I taught her to throw knives. It was these two that taught her to make drinks.”

  “Drinks, that sounds lovely, Trent. Could you make me another one? My shaker seems to be broken.” Branda sloppily moved her right arm up and down. “And I have to go pee.”

  It took everything Troy had in him not to burst out laughing. Her shaker arm was definitely out of commission for the rest of the night.

  “Trey, order some food, please, while I help Branda to the restroom,” Troy said as he helped Branda up.

  As she got up, she swayed then spotted Trey. “Oh look, Trey’s here. He knows I love him, right?”

  “Yes, he knows, and he loves you, too,” Troy replied as he walked her into the house.

  “Do you think I’m too fat?” she murmured as she watched the floor. “I think you are going to have to get the floor fixed. It feels like it’s going to shift at any moment.”

  “I’m going to kill them,” Troy mumbled under his breath. “No, darling. You are not fat. Remember we’ve gone over this before. You are lusciously stacked. Don’t worry about the floor. I’m pretty sure it will be fine by tomorrow.” />
  Helping her into the restroom, he steadied her a few times then breathed a sigh of relief once the deed was done and she was taken back outside to sit and wait on their food.

  “So what was on the menu today?” Troy asked Cason.

  “Tropical mojitos and Brazilian martinis. She did a great job making them, until recently, of course. Her shake seems to be a little off,” Cason answered with a snicker.

  “What I’d like to know is who came up with this knife-throwing, drink-making party, and why.” Troy stared the three men down.

  Cason answered easily. “I came up with the idea because we needed to stick to tradition.”

  “Tradition, huh? I’ve never heard anything about getting the bride-to-be drunk,” Trey stated from the doorway. His voice was gruff, but his eyes glistened with mirth.

  “Did you guys hear that?” Branda asked with narrowed eyes.

  “Yes, baby. We all heard Trey.” Swinging his gaze to Trent, Troy asked, “Do tell us about this new tradition you three have come up with.”

  “Oh, it’s not new. We didn’t mean to get her drunk. It just happened. What we were doing was keeping to the tradition of all the family members teaching the new family member something. I taught her to throw knives. She did a good job, by the way. Carlo and Cason taught her to make your and Trey’s favorite drinks. Isn’t that right, Cason?”

  “He’s telling the truth. She is just more sensitive to the liquor than we thought she’d be. She looked so cute making the drinks, how could we stop her?” Cason said with an innocent shrug.

  “So you were teaching her to make our favorite drinks, huh? I don’t see any beer-making equipment out here. You know we like beer better than mixed drinks,” Troy retorted.

  “Yes, but beer takes too long to make, so we improvised,” Carlo said excitedly. Obviously he was proud of himself for figuring that one out.

  “You guys are hopeless,” Troy added then went over to the bar and got himself and Trey a beer. He had to admit, the four of them seemed to be having a good time. He and Trey might as well join in the fun.

  Thanks to Cason periodically slipping her three more alcohol-filled drinks, Branda was still a little tipsy four hours later as they tucked her between them in bed. “I love you two.”

  “We love you, too. Close those pretty eyes and go to sleep,” Trey whispered into her ear.

  Within seconds, Branda was lightly snoring.

  “I can’t believe those three got her drunk,” Trey whispered over her snoring.

  “I can’t either, but she did make an adorable drunk. I almost bust a gut when she thought she was having hearing mirages.”

  “Yeah, that was hilarious. We’ll have to remember to make sure she doesn’t drink too much on our wedding day,” Trey said with mirth.

  “No kidding,” Troy whispered back.

  Branda shifted and grumbled in her sleep.

  Both men went silent, not wanting to wake her.

  Troy cuddled next to her thinking how lucky they were to have such a warm, loving, stacked woman like her. She was the bright spot in their lives, and he knew she always would be.

  Troy lightly kissed the top of her head, then winced at the thought of the headache she was going to have in the morning. She started snoring again, and he smiled as he let sleep overtake him.

  * * * *

  Morning dawned for Branda at eleven a.m. Her head pounded, and her mouth was as dry as desert sand.

  Trying to sit up, Branda groaned when a jackhammer went off in her head. Breathing deeply seemed to help a little. Opening her eyes, she moaned when pain shot through her eye sockets and stabbed her brain. Groping for a pillow, she eased herself back down on the bed. Better to lay down for a bit and feel okay, versus up and in pain.

  “I see you are up,” someone said, walking into the room.

  Branda’s head was pounding too loudly for her to be able to figure out who it was.

  “I’ll be right back with something to help you,” the male voice said sympathetically.

  She must have dozed off for a minute, because the bed shifting as someone sat on it startled her back to the painful light of day. A hand moved soothingly over her shoulder and brushed her hair off her face. “Let’s get you up. Your phone has rung several times already. You may need to call someone back. We don’t want the police called to hunt you down for a frantic friend, do we?” The male voice sounded way too happy.

  Slitting her eyes, she peered at the face close to hers. “Trey?”

  A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “No. I’m Trent. The short-haired one with the scar.”

  “Stop laughing at me. It’s partly your fault I’m in the shape I’m in today. Where are Trey and Troy? How did you get your scar? I have a scar you know.”

  “Woman, you talk a lot for someone with a hangover. But to answer your questions, Trey and Troy are at work. They left me to take care of you because I didn’t stop you from getting drunk. I was in a car wreck a few years ago, and no, I didn’t know you have a scar. I’m sorry to hear about your scar. Now, will you let me help you sit up and drink a family remedy for hangovers?” Trent said in a low, soothing tone that was easy on the ears and head.

  Allowing him to help her up, she groaned when the jackhammer in her head went back to work. Holding her head in her hands, she took a few slow, controlled breaths.

  “Here, take these.”

  Peeking through squinted eyes, she saw three pills in his hand. Taking them from him, she croaked, “Water.”

  “I’ve got something better than water. A breakfast smoothie.” He took the smoothie off the nightstand and pressed it into her hand.

  She took a sip to get her throat wet then put all three of the pills in her mouth at once and washed them down with the smoothie. Keeping her eyes closed, she sipped at the smoothie. “This is a good smoothie. Cason and Carlo aren’t here, are they?”

  “No, they had to go back home today, remember? But if you’d like, I can call and get them to come back.” His tone was filled with laughter.

  Keeping her eyes closed, she murmured, “No, I don’t think I could live through another one of their visits just yet. My head and arm hurt.”

  “I’m sure they do. Your head will be better soon. Your arm will take a day or so. When you were throwing knives and then darts you used muscles you usually don’t use. I think you should finish your drink and then lay back down for awhile. You look like you need the rest. I’ll handle the cops if they show up.” Sympathy dominated his tone this time.

  With eyes still closed, Branda drank her drink then handed it blindly to Trent.

  He took the glass, then helped her lay back down, and covered her up. She felt him kiss her forehead. “Go to sleep, little one.”

  * * * *

  “Branda is looking much better. Her arm is close to normal again,” Trey told Trent as he took a seat at one of the tables at Gaven’s pub.

  “Just in time, too. She’s received a lot of business calls in the last few days. She’s working right now,” Troy threw in.

  “You guys are leaving in a few days, right?” Trent asked, ignoring his brothers’ subtle reminders that he hadn’t taken very good care of their fiancée while adhering to tradition.

  Groaning loudly, Trey answered, “Yes. Nonno and Nonna are practically demanding we go and that we leave Branda behind. I think they are up to something.”

  “I’m with you. They have to be planning something. Something they don’t want Branda to know about,” Troy agreed with narrowed green eyes.

  “You two are always so suspicious. What makes you think those two sweet, innocent, elderly people are up to something?” Trent prodded, unable to hold the laughter from his voice.

  “Please. I know they are up to something. Those two never separate, and they don’t encourage other couples to spend too much time apart. Yet they want me and Troy to go to Italy with them for a month and leave Branda behind. It stinks I tell you. Oh, they are giving some sad story about not wanting
to bore Branda by making her visit their elderly friends in Italy. Saying she should stay and build up her business, which all of the sudden has skyrocketed overnight. I tell you, something is up. I think they had their friends call Branda and keep her busy so she couldn’t go,” Trey retorted.

  “Okay, okay. I believe you, but you might as well not stew over it. You know when Nonno and Nonna go to plotting and planning they never show their cards until they are ready to. You might as well enjoy the ride, seeing as you don’t have a choice,” Trent said sympathetically.

  “While we are gone, we need you to look out for her. She is very important to us. Capisci?” Troy asked Trent in a firm tone.

  “I understand. I won’t let anything happen to her. She’s family. I’ll watch over her. Just try to hurry Nonno and Nonna along so you two can get back as soon as possible,” Trent answered in a grave voice.

  “Let’s just chill out for now. I vote we play darts while Gaven is out of town.” Trey tossed out the words in a playful way.

  “Where’s he at? What’s he doing?” Troy asked with an air of concern.

  “Pull your head out of the ground, my ostrich brother. Six months have passed. Every six months he mysteriously goes somewhere for the weekend. It’s that weekend. He probably has some chick stashed somewhere and doesn’t want us to know he’s fallen,” Trey answered as he got up and headed for the dart board.

  “Oh, yeah. I didn’t realize it was that time already. He’s so quiet about it all. Plus, sometimes we’re not in town when he goes away. That makes it hard for me to keep up with him and what he’s doing. I wonder what he does. He told me once that he has to get away every six months in order to stay sane. Most of the time he comes home with a black eye or two. If he’s got a woman stashed, she must be a mean one. Has he recently let it slip to either of you where he goes?” Troy questioned as he picked up a few darts.

  Both men shook their heads no.

  “I guess when he comes back we can get him drunk and see if he’ll spill under the influence of alcohol. Branda could make him some of her special drinks,” Trent teased.