Unexpected Pleasures [Pleasure, Montana 11] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Unexpected Pleasures [Pleasure, Montana 11] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2

by Melody Snow Monroe


  “Excuse me for a minute. I want to say hi to someone.” She figured the men could either talk about football or Liam and Mason could chat with their coworkers, Dylan and Gabe.

  She hurried over to her former teacher and waited patiently until Debbie was finished gabbing. She and Debbie had both been teacher’s pet. Mr. Dunwoody must have seen her out of the corner of his eye, because he jerked toward her.

  “Sarah?” He clasped her hands. “Sarah Jacobsen. So good to see you, dear. I hear you’ve taken my place.” His smile lit up his wrinkled face. His pallor remained ashen, but maybe it was the harsh, overhead mercury vapor lights that gave him a sickly hue.

  “You’ll never be replaced, Mr. Dunwoody.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say, dear. I do miss the classroom and shining stars like you.”

  Heat rose to her face. Debbie was one of his stars, too.

  Debbie smiled. “Sarah, did you know you taught my cousin, Erica Wilson, a few years back? She often sings your praises.”

  She remembered Erica. “I didn’t know you and she were related.” She recalled Debbie’s cousin had to drop out of the pre-calculus class because her AP classes had overwhelmed her. “That was nice of her to say.”

  Deb returned her attention to their mentor and placed a hand on his arm. “Tell Sarah about the book you’re writing.” Debbie beamed, like a proud mom.

  Her teacher smiled and nodded at her. “I’m writing a pre-calculus textbook.”

  “That’s terrific. Alone?” Nowadays, textbooks needed an iPad interface and an online presence.

  He chuckled. “Oh, no. I have a co-author to do all of that fancy electronic stuff. I don’t know much about that kind of technology.”

  That was understandable since he must be in his seventies by now. “Your book sounds wonderful. When it’s published, let me know and I’ll recommend it to the department.”

  “You are too kind, Sarah.”

  Three more of his former students gathered around, and Sarah excused herself. Just making her way back to Liam and Mason took some work. Groups flowed from one person to the next, many of whom wanted to chat. By the time she reached the men, her feet were tired, and she was wanted to go home.

  Because Mason and Liam only knew a few people, she figured they’d be chomping at the bit to leave, too. As soon as another former student tugged Billy away, Sarah took advantage of the break.

  She placed a hand on each of the men’s backs and leaned in close enough for only them to hear. “Even though this is a stimulating event, what do you say we hit Sally’s Ice Cream Shop for a change in scenery?” The place was new in town and their gelato section was divine. She bet the men would enjoy it.

  Liam and Mason glanced at each other. Oh, shit. Maybe this wasn’t a real date and their obligation merely extended to bringing her to the reunion. Ceci and her men had made the arrangements for the six of them to come together.

  She held up her hands. “If you have other obligations, then by all means just drop me off home. I don’t want to—”

  “Sarah, shh. Mason and I would be delighted to continue our date at a different location.”

  Then why did you hesitate?

  Reality intruded. “Are you on a job right now?”

  This time it was Liam’s chin that jutted in. “I think if a killer were in the high school gym, we’d be able to tell.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Let me tell Dylan and Gabe that we’re going. I don’t want those pansies to freak when I don’t bring their car back until the wee hours of the morning.” Liam winked and her heart lurched.

  The wee hours of the morning? Did they expect to spend the night? She hadn’t even kissed them yet. Not that she hadn’t thought about it, but she wasn’t ready to add another complication to her hectic life.

  Liam returned. “Let’s go.”

  She walked over to the table, picked up her thin sweater that she hadn’t needed, and grabbed her purse. Damn. It had tipped over and her lipstick was sticking out. She returned the makeup to the inside and zipped up the top.

  As she moved toward the exit, she swore half of the eyes were on her—some impressed and others shocked that she’d snagged two such debonair men. She thought she’d finally escaped the prying eyes until they passed Principal Adams walking in.

  “Leaving so soon, Sarah?” He might have said the words to her, but his gaze remained on the men.

  “I’m not feeling well.” Lying wasn’t her style, but she wasn’t in the mood to discuss her reasons for not wanting to stay.

  The lines around his eyes softened. “I’m sorry. As soon as summer school finishes, make sure to rest.”

  That was her plan. “I will.” Ugh. The man gave her the creeps.

  The sky had turned dark, but the air remained balmy. Evenings in the mid-seventies were rare, so she walked slowly to the car, enjoying the outdoors.

  “Sarah, ride shotgun,” Mason said. “Liam had you on the ride over.”

  She hadn’t expected that command. Since college, men never fought over her. Liam held open the door for her and she slipped in.

  Her palms were sweating already. Once they ate their ice cream, they’d bring her home. Then what? Did they expect her to ask them in? Or would they escort her to the door, tell her they had a good time, and walk away like they had the last few times? Liam had dropped the hint they might not return the car until the wee hours. Did they think she’d make the first move? If so, they’d be waiting a long time.

  “Sarah?” Mason’s voice held a lot of concern.

  She turned her attention back to him. “Yes?”

  “Are you okay? I asked you a question just now and you just stared. Would you rather we take you home?”

  “No.” That was the truth. Her home meant she’d be alone—alone with those images. As soon as she drifted off to sleep, she’d relive the kidnapping. Night after night, she’d wake up in a sweat, sometimes standing in her living room or bathroom, not having any idea how she’d gotten there. This cycle had to stop.

  When she looked out the window, Mason had already passed through town. “Where are we going?” She hated that her voice was tinged with fear.

  “To your house.”

  He hadn’t even asked her. “Why?”

  “There’s something on your mind, and we want to find out what it is.” She wasn’t sure she liked his tone, and her stomach turned queasy.

  They arrived, and once Mason cut the engine, they led her to her door. She unzipped the top pouch and slipped her hand inside. She fingered every object inside but couldn’t locate her key.

  “This is embarrassing. I can’t seem to find my keys.”

  Liam lifted her purse out of her hands. “Let an expert look.”

  She appreciated that he didn’t appear upset by the delay. His devilish look turned worried after he fumbled his hand inside and couldn’t find it either.

  “What all do you have in here?”

  She let out a chuckle. “It’s my small purse, too.” She slipped it from his hands. “There’s only one thing to do.” She squatted and dumped the contents on to the porch. While it was evening, the overhead porch light was enough to illuminate the contents. “Oh, my God. It’s gone.” The implication had her pulse soaring.

  Chapter Two

  Mason helped Sarah collect the contents of her purse and stuff everything back inside. “I know you had your key when we left because I saw you lock your door.”

  Liam twisted the knob but it wouldn’t budge. “Maybe it fell out in the car.”

  “I don’t think so. The top was zippered.”

  Liam rushed down the steps. “I’ll look anyway.”

  Well, didn’t this beat all. She was locked out of her own house. Shit. The inconvenience totally embarrassed her. Then the image of her purse on the gym table surfaced. “I bet it fell out at the reunion. I remember my purse being open when I retrieved it. Crap.” She hadn’t remembered touching her bag all evening, but perhaps the stress was
contributing to her memory loss. She couldn’t be sure she hadn’t left the top open.

  Liam returned waving a leather pouch. “Let the master do his work.” He opened it up to display an array of metal instruments.

  “You can pick a lock?”

  He grinned. “There a lot of things I can do, hon.”

  Her pulse skipped a beat. Why she jumped to the conclusion he was referring to something sexual, she didn’t know.

  In seconds, he popped open the door. “Voila.”

  “I thought my house was secure.” A chill raced over her body as she entered and immediately turned on all the lights.

  “I’ll call Brody Thomas and ask him to send a locksmith out first thing tomorrow,” Mason said.

  As much as she appreciated him taking over, this was her house. They didn’t owe her anything. “I can call him.”

  Mason ran a hand down her arm. “I’ll feel better if I take care of it.”

  Because she’d been spacing out lately? Fine. Tomorrow was Sunday, and finding someone to come out right away might be hard without calling in a favor. “Thanks.” If they took care of it, she’d be sure it would get done.

  “Coffee, hon?” Liam asked.

  There was that “hon” name again. “Sure, but make it decaf.” Regular coffee would keep her up. “Do you know where everything is?” Her kitchen wasn’t the easiest to maneuver around.

  He cocked one brow. “I stayed here for a week if you recall. So yes, I have intimate knowledge of every inch of your…house.”

  At the word “intimate”, the lower half of her body clenched. She didn’t want to be reminded of how she’d let them hold her when she’d broken into uncontrollable sobs, or how much comfort they’d brought her. But that was two months ago. She was better now—or so she tried to tell herself.

  While Liam worked in the kitchen, she sat on a chair in the living room, still obsessing about the damned key. Had she been careless?

  Mason dropped down onto the sofa across from her and said nothing, almost as if he was waiting for her to open up about what was distracting her so much. She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. He knew what had happened. Besides, it wasn’t like he was a therapist.

  Needing to take her mind off the reunion and the purse fiasco, she studied him. Where Liam was the fairer of the two, Mason’s dark hair and equally dark eyes gave him a mysterious look. He was about three inches shorter than Liam but probably outweighed him by twenty pounds. By far, he was the more serious of the two.

  Liam returned with her coffee, two glasses of water, and a bag of pretzels she’d stuffed in the back of one of the cabinets. She didn’t remember when she’d bought them, but she was pretty sure they were stale.

  He waved his find. “Mind?”

  “No. Help yourself.”

  Her coffee was too hot to drink so she set it on the coffee table. Liam seemed to want to pick her brain, so she waited for their inevitable questions.

  He took a seat next to Mason and leaned forward, his arms dangling over his thighs. His blond hair, while military-short on the side, had grown longer on top and flopped over his brow, accentuating his beautiful blue-green eyes. While his intense look shook her, it might have been his broad shoulders that affected her the most. They gave off a vibe of power and control, something she was sorely lacking in her life.

  “We want to know how you’re doing.” He waved a hand. “Aside for the issue with the key loss.”

  Was he implying it was her fault? Well, maybe it was, but she was convinced that when the janitor swept the floor after the event, he’d find it and turn it into the front desk at school. On Monday, she’d ask the receptionist. Too bad, she’d have a new lock by then.

  “I’m good.” At least she was during the day. When she was with her students or celebrating happy hour with her friends, she was her old self. Only the night stole her life away.

  “Tell us about the nightmares.”

  She was stunned they knew. Ceci. That traitor. “I have bad dreams sometimes.”

  “After your abduction, we didn’t want to press you on it, but I think it’s time you come clean with us.”

  Did they think she was holding back some information? “I’ve told you all I know.”

  “We’re speaking about your bad dreams.”

  Was there something in the dream that could help them? Harrison Kaplan, the man who’d killed the mule and orchestrated her kidnapping, was already behind bars. What more did they need to know? She leaned back and stretched out her legs, her casual pose belying the turmoil in her gut. “I’ve told the therapist everything.”

  Mason’s gaze never left her face. “How’s that working out for you?”

  It was as if he knew. “I’m getting better.”

  She tried to remember exactly how much she’d divulged to Ceci. Since Liam and Mason worked with her men, they probably shared everything.

  “It’s just that you seem…distracted. More so of late. We want to help.”

  You can’t help. No one can. Uh-oh. She sat up. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

  Mason glanced at Liam then blew out a breath. “We both feel that keeping you in the dark will only add to your anxiety.”

  She wiped her damp palms down her legs. “That’s an understatement.” Her heart was beating too fast, but she couldn’t make it slow.

  “It’s just a rumor, mind you.”

  “Tell me.” She needed to know what or who was out there.

  “Harrison Kaplan seems to be extending his reach outside of jail.”

  Her stomach revolted. “What does that mean—outside of the jail?” She hated that her voice shook.

  Mason shrugged. “We’ve heard some talk that he partly blames you for his troubles, and that he might hire someone to do harm to those involved. That would include Gavin and Riley.”

  And Brooke. And Ceci. That was outrageous. “Why come after me? That bastard blindfolded and bound me, then tossed me into the snow with no shoes and no coat. He wanted me to die.”

  “We know, but because of Dylan and Riley, his helicopter pilot died and his other front man was shot during the ransom exchange. That wasn’t how he planned for it to go down.”

  Her anger bubbled up. “That’s my fault how?”

  Liam stabbed a hand through his hair, actually appearing uncomfortable. “It’s not, honey, but we want you to be aware that you need to take extra precaution now.”

  Great. “Like I don’t have enough anxiety?” She jumped up and paced. With each step, her stomach ached and her throat started to close up. “Is this about the key? Because I lost it you think I need help?”

  She hadn’t even noticed Liam move toward her until he’d wrapped his arms around her. “We’ll keep you safe.”

  She slipped out of his embrace. “I can’t live in fear, never knowing when he’ll strike. I have to move on.” She kept harping on Ceci about doing just that and her friend had succeeded. Even Brooke seemed to have conquered her fear. She would, too.

  Liam glanced over at Mason. “Moving on is good, but don’t be surprised if you see us drive by your house over the next couple of weeks to make sure you’re safe.”

  That kind of protection she could take. “Thank you.”

  Mason stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You want to get some sleep or do you need company?”

  Another part of her body tingled. That wasn’t good. Her head wasn’t in the right place now. She bet he was asking as a member of the Elite Detective Services. “I’d like to take a soak in the tub and curl up with a good book. I’m sorry I wasn’t much fun tonight.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about, angel,” Mason said. “We’ll be expecting a rain check though.”

  “Rain check?”

  “At Sally’s Ice Cream Store. We love ice cream.”

  They were trying to help her save face. There was no doubt these men were just too damned good.

  “It’s a date.” She didn’t want them to think she wasn
’t grateful.

  “Lock up, hear?” Liam said.

  She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and escorted them to the door. As soon as they pulled out of the drive, she twisted the lock. Damn. She wished she hadn’t asked them to leave. Now she was alone with the knowledge her nightmare might not be over. “Damn you, Harrison Kaplan.”

  While she wasn’t supposed to drink and then take her sleep medicine, she figured a half glass of wine two hours before bed wouldn’t be so bad. After she filled the tub and dumped in a ton of bath salts, she grabbed her Kindle and slipped into the warm water with her glass of wine. Her moan came out loud as soon as the warmth surrounded her and the cool liquid soothed her throat.

  This was nice. Not as nice, however, as having the men around, but if she’d asked them to stay and suggested they watch a movie, they might have gotten the wrong idea.

  She stayed in the tub until the water turned cool, then rinsed, dried off, and slipped into bed. After taking her sleep medicine, she continued to read. It wasn’t long before her eyes drooped.

  She remembered tossing and turning, but not actually waking. Then a chill passed over her body, and she opened her eyes. She sat up. What’s going on? Blood pounded in her ears at the unfamiliar surroundings. Panic gripped her. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she finally recognized her kitchen cabinets. Fuck. She’d been sleepwalking again.

  Last month, the same thing had happened. The therapist said if the conditions were right, she might move about—and she had.

  Then she looked down at her feet and her breath caught. She touched the bottom of one foot and brought her fingers to her nose. They reeked of dirt.

  The front door banged open and she nearly had a heart attack. Someone was in the house. Shit, shit, shit.

  She needed to call 911. Where had she left her phone? Crap. It was in the bedroom, which was in the back of the house. She stilled, listening for the intruder. Only the wind rushing up the porch steps made any noise. She couldn’t remain in the kitchen. He’d find her.

  On shaky legs, Sarah slowly rose to her feet and peeked into the dining room. The light from the porch leaked in, casting eerie streaks across the carpet.

 

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