Their New Year's Resolution (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Marla Monroe

  “It’s great to meet you,” she said smiling at Erica. “They’ve talked nonstop about you since we got here.”

  “Goodness. Well, they were like two kids in a candy shop getting ready for the family to arrive. They’ve been planning like wild men,” Erica said.

  “Brent, Gabe is on his way down. He had to change clothes. It seems that one of the kids thought it would be fun to change the color tags on his shirts,” she said rolling her eyes. She turned to Erica. “Gabe’s color blind and we have little tags that tell him what color his clothes are in case I’m not around to help.”

  “That would be really hard to live with if you didn’t have someone you trusted to tell you the truth,” she said with a laugh.

  “Yep. When we were dating he’d turn up with the craziest outfits. He finally admitted that he was colorblind when he realized I was wondering if he was really eccentric or just crazy.” Jocelyn shook her head. “Come on in while the guys unload the car.”

  With Kent and Brent taking over the flower arrangements, all she could do was take Aaron and Sissy’s hand and follow the woman up the porch steps and inside the house. She led them to the kitchen where she offered them something to drink and a plate full of fresh baked cookies.

  “Yum, these are good!” Aaron said around a mouthful. “Thanks, Ms. Josey.”

  “Jocelyn, Aaron.” Erica mouthed ‘sorry’ to the other woman.

  She waved it away. “Don’t worry about it. Back home I get called Ms. Cat Lady, much to my husband’s annoyance.”

  “Goodness,” Erica said with a chuckle. “You must love cats.”

  “I love all animals, but believe it or not, Gabe is the one with a thing for cats. We have five of them in the house and a passel of feral ones that live around our barns. We supplement their food source and keep fresh water and shelter for them. He spends all of his spare time sitting out on our back porch talking to them. I’ve even caught him practicing his closing statements to the poor things.” She smiled and winked at the kids.

  “Who made the cookies?” Sissy asked as she took a delicate bite off of her cookie.

  “Actually Kent did. I made fudge, but he made the cookies. He and Brent love to cook,” she explained.

  “Mom’s cookies aren’t this good, but her chocolate and pecan pies are better than anyone’s,” her daughter bragged.

  “I bet they are,” the other woman said with a laugh.

  “Hey ladies, where does this one go?” Kent carried the centerpiece for the huge table they would be using for Thanksgiving lunch the next day.

  For the next hour, she followed the guys around setting up the arrangements while Jocelyn introduced her three boys to Aaron and Sissy. Ricky joined them once everything was inside, leaving her with Brent and Kent to place them in the right spots throughout the house.

  With everything completed now, there was no reason to remain at the guys’ house. She really enjoyed visiting with them and loved how they were so good with her kids. She could tell that it wasn’t just her kids, but their sister’s as well. The three boys were boisterous but minded well. Ricky seemed to really like messing around with them.

  Just as she was about to gather her crew and say good-bye, Kent walked over and whispered in her ear.

  “Give us a minute before you head out. We want to talk to you about another project and pay you for this one,” he said.

  “Oh, well you don’t have to pay me right this minute. I’ll be glad to send you the itemized statement so you can see everything on paper,” she said.

  “No need. All the work you’ve done is more than obvious. Besides, we do have another project for you,” Kent insisted.

  She shrugged and allowed him to pull her out of the kitchen. She heard Brent asking his sister and Gabe to watch the kids while they finished business with her.

  As soon she walked into the office, Brent closed the door and Kent turned her to face him.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Why didn’t you go to the doctor? You’re favoring your side. I could tell when you sat down,” he said.

  “Let me see your side,” Brent demanded.

  Erica grabbed Brent’s hands when he started to lift her shirt. “Wait! What are you doing?”

  “Check to make sure you didn’t do more damage than you’re letting on,” Kent told her. He held her hands gently in his as his brother lifted her shirt to just below her bra.

  “Fuck, Erica. You’re black and blue. You’ve probably cracked a rib or two. What did you fall on?” Brent asked, showing his brother her side.

  “A bench. I feel so stupid. I should have noticed that one of the legs was split, but I didn’t,” she said. “I’m fine. I have the entire Thanksgiving weekend to rest up. Sarah has already offered to handle the hayride, so I don’t have to worry with it.”

  “You need to go to the doctor’s office or the emergency room and have this checked out, honey,” Kent said, looking her straight in the eyes.

  “There’s nothing they can do even if I do have a cracked rib. They don’t wrap them anymore. All I can do is rest but keep active enough that I don’t develop pneumonia.”

  “That sounds like you’ve been through this before,” Brent said scowling as he rolled her shirt down.

  “Yeah, well, you don’t raise kids without a few accidents in your pocket. Ricky plays football and cracked a rib last year. Before that, Aaron tried to do some sort of stunt on a skateboard and broke his arm,” she told them.

  “I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt. No ladders around here unless one of us is holding it, got it?” Brent asked.

  “Um, okay. But I’ve finished the Thanksgiving stuff and no ladders were involved,” she said with a smile.

  “That brings us to the next project,” Kent said. “Help her sit down, Brent.”

  Brent fussed over her making sure she was comfortable before he sat in the chair next to her. Kent walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down. He opened a book much like her checkbook and proceeded to write. Then he bent part of the paper over and tore it off. When he handed Brent the paper and he passed it to her, she realized it was a check.

  “Thanks. I really enjoyed decorating your house,” she said, smiling.

  “We love what you did and enjoyed the entire process from start to finish. We want you to help us throw a Christmas party here where the entire community is invited. There won’t be any major food but lots of coffee, hot chocolate, cider, and finger foods. We want to have either a sleigh ride or hay ride depending on if there is snow or not, music to listen to and maybe a Christmas movie that plays over and over so everyone has a chance to watch if they want to,” Kent explained.

  “Goodness. That’s a major endeavor but it would definitely assure that you’re well integrated into the community. You can talk to everyone and get to know them.” Erica could easily see how it would all go over and already had a hundred ideas circling in her head. She wished she had her planner.

  As if reading her mind, Kent grabbed a pad from a drawer and passed it, and a pen, over to his brother. Brent handed them to her. She gave him a quick smile then went to work making notes. She wrote furiously for several minutes before stopping and taking a deep breath.

  “So, does this mean you’ll take it on?” Kent asked with an amused expression on his face.

  “Of course it means she’ll do it,” Brent said scowling over at his brother. “How can she pass up this soulful expression?”

  She looked over to find Brent doing his best to appear cute but sad. It came off a little weird, but she didn’t tell him he looked more silly than convincing. Instead she found herself nodding.

  “Of course I will. I can already see the house in my head. Your home is made for dressing up, guys. Do you have a date in mind?” she asked.

  “Nope. We’re open so you choose the date according to your plans and any plans already in place around the town,” Kent said.

  “Okay. I’m thinking the best weekend would be the one of the p
arade. They could all come here after the parade. They will turn on the Christmas lights this Friday night after the hayride,” she told them.

  “Then that’s when we’ll have the party. Does it give you enough time to work it out?” Kent asked.

  “It will be tight, but I think it will all fall into place in time,” she said. “Do you already have the type of finger foods in mind that you want? I may have to find another caterer outside of town. Elissa might be booked up already,” she said, thinking out loud.

  “Oh, don’t worry about the food or beverages. We’ll handle that. All we’ll need is for you to shop for us like before. That worked out perfectly. We’ve got all of the Thanksgiving food already cooked or ready to cook,” Brent said.

  “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while,” she said.

  “Since we went through the plans for Thanksgiving,” Kent admitted with a smile. “You inspired us and gave us some ideas.”

  Erica chuckled. “Well, if I’m going to have this going in time for the Christmas parade, I need to get back home. Are your nieces and nephews still going to come to the hay ride Friday?”

  “Yes. I know Jocelyn’s boys are yanking at the bit to go.” Kent said.

  She chuckled. “You’d think mine would be past that by now, but they get excited every year.”

  As she stood up, tearing the notes she’d made out of the pad, both men stood with her. Kent took the notebook and pen from her and set them on the desk.

  “I better round up my crew and head home. I have some planning to do,” she said with a smile.

  “Don’t forget lunch tomorrow. We’ve already told everyone you’d be there,” Brent told her. “Don’t disappoint them.”

  Erica nodded. It looked like she’d be having Thanksgiving with them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, the truth was, she wanted to spend more time with them. It just wasn’t a good idea for her to grow too close to the two men. She liked them both equally and dating one of them would put a strain on her friendship with the other one. Not to mention she didn’t need to date her clients.

  Thoughts of them circled in her head all the way back home. The kids went on and on about their new friends and how much they liked them. Even Sissy seemed to have enjoyed herself. Letting them have a little fun with new friends wasn’t going to hurt any of them. Erica figured she was the only one with the potential to get in over her head.

  Chapter Seven

  “Mom! Are you ready yet?” Ricky’s voice carried through the house as she checked her hair one last time.

  Why is it that when I’m trying to look my best and in a hurry that once side curls up and the other side curls down?

  “I can’t get my shoe buckled, Mom,” Sissy grumbled behind her.

  Erica smiled at her daughter. She’d dressed up for the occasion while her two sons had dressed down and would have worn torn jeans if she hadn’t vetoed that early on.

  “Let me see, sweetie.” She helped her daughter up on the stool and knelt in front of her to look at the worrisome shoe. “I think you had the buckle turned wrong.”

  She fixed the buckle then helped the little girl down. “There. Go tell your brothers to meet me at the back door. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  Sissy walked out of the room where most little girls would have run. She was so cute sometimes it amazed Erica. Where she’d been a tomboy through and through, her little girl was the epitome of a little princess complete with an attitude that often exasperated her oldest son. He had no patience with her when she got in one of her moods.

  Erica smiled, and after one more check in the mirror, picked up her purse with her planner inside and headed for the kitchen. She had a green bean casserole and two pumpkin pies to carry with them. There was no way she would attend someone else’s family dinner without bringing something to the table. Her daughter informed her that a mere casserole wasn’t enough. She needed a dessert as well. Not to be out done, Ricky informed her that there had to be two pies since there would be so many people there. Thank goodness Aaron didn’t have an opinion on the subject.

  “Okay, Ricky. You handle one of the pies and Sissy, you take the other. I’ll get the casserole,” Erica said as she walked into the kitchen.

  “What ’bout me?” Aaron piped up.

  “You have to open and close the doors, little man. Remember to pull hard on the kitchen door for me.” She waited as he opened the kitchen door, checked that the lock was turned, and, once they’d all walked through, closed it with a rather hard slam.

  “That did it,” he said with a wide grin before hurrying over to the car to open all the doors.

  Erica had to smother a chuckle when he then climbed into the car and proceeded to fasten his seatbelt. Ricky started to say something but stopped with at a look from her. Instead he huffed out a breath and walked around closing all the doors before climbing back in the car and snapping his own belt into place. She hid her smile by concentrating on backing the car out of the drive.

  “Remember what I told you guys. Company behavior even though we are at their house and they aren’t at ours. No running and ripping in the house,” she began.

  “We remember, mom. We won’t embarrass you,” Ricky said.

  “Honey, I know you won’t. You guys never embarrass me. Just remember to think before you do something,” she said.

  By the time they arrived at the gate, Erica’s stomach was bunched into tight knots. She had no idea why she was so nervous. It was just a meal. But for some reason it felt as if she were meeting their family for an entirely different reason. Erica had to put a stop to her fantasies where the Stone brothers were concerned.

  When she pressed the buzzer on the intercom box, the gate began swinging open without anyone asking who it was. She guessed someone had been instructed to open the gate whenever someone pushed the buzzer to cut down on questions every few minutes.

  Erica checked her watch. It was just now eleven. Brent had said to try to arrive about this time. They wouldn’t eat until closer to one, but wanted the time to introduce everyone and get all the food out. When she pulled up in front of the house, there were already six other cars and truck that she could see. The knowledge that there would be well over twenty people inside dispersed the knots in her tummy and replaced them with galloping horses.

  “Can we get out?” Aaron asked when she’d been parked for nearly a full minute.

  “Yes! Yes. Sorry guys. Be careful with the pies,” she said, reaching over to take the pie from Sissy so she could climb out.

  “Let me help you, pumpkin.” Brent lifted her daughter and set her gently on the ground before reaching in to take the casserole off the passenger floorboard.

  Kent met her at the front of the car and took the pie from her hand. “How are you doing this morning?” he asked with a smile as he leaned closer. “You smell delicious, and it’s not the pie.”

  She felt heat crawl up her neck and settle in her cheeks. How had he managed to do that to her in less than five minutes? She felt like a teenager talking to her biggest crush.

  “It’s the pie. I promise. I don’t wear perfume. Too many of my clients are allergic so I don’t even buy it.”

  Damn! I’m babbling like an idiot. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?

  “See. I told you that you smelled good,” he said with a grin.

  Then they were walking inside the house and talking would have been nearly impossible with so many people milling around conversing with each other. She could barely make out what sounded like Christmas music playing in the background but wasn’t sure.

  “Come on in while Brent and I put the food in the kitchen. You didn’t have to bring anything, Erica.” Kent kissed her on the cheek before squeezing between several people with a pie in either hand above his head.

  Brent winked at her as he sailed through the breach his brother had made carrying the casserole. She couldn’t stop herself from checking out his ass. He and Kent both wore what looked like brand new
, fresh out of the store, jeans that molded their asses like they were poured into them. She even licked her lips—then cringed when someone burst out laughing next to her.

  Erica turned to find a beautiful woman with long blond hair and light blue eyes smiling at her. She covered her mouth with one hand then dropped it and grinned.

  “Sorry, but you looked so cute!” the woman said still smiling. She held out her hand. “I’m Trisha. You must be Erica. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Kent and Brent have been talking about you for weeks now.”

  “Me? We just met a few weeks ago,” she said with a nervous smile. “It’s nice to meet you. My kids are around here somewhere. Let me think. You’re married to Kevin, right?”

  “That’s right. Kevin is right over there,” she pointed to a tall man with dark brown hair chatting with some others she didn’t know. “He and Kirk are trying to talk the guys’ father into letting them breed one of his horses. Not going to happen, but they love trying.”

  “Which one is their father?” she asked. They all looked too young to be their father.

  “Richard is the one in the western shirt with the pearl looking snaps. He tends to dress over the top western but doesn’t look his age one bit,” Trisha said with an indulgent smile. “He’s such a sweetie. Kevin tells me I’m delusional, but I think they’re just exaggerating how tough he was when they were kids.”

  “He still has a head full of dark hair. You wouldn’t believe he was much more than fifty or fifty-five.” Erica hoped she aged as well as Brent and Kent’s father seemed to have.

  “What trash are you filling Erica’s head with, Trisha?” Brent startled her when he spoke from behind them.

  “It’s not nice to sneak up to two women when they’re gossiping about you,” Trisha told him.

  Brent chuckled and hugged her before pulling Erica closer to him, leaving his hand at the small of her back when he did.

  “Where is Kent? I haven’t seen him since we got here,” Trisha said.

  “He’s in the kitchen checking on some last minute preparations. Don’t say one word about his turkey or he might not invite you back next year,” Brent said with a grin. He turned to Erica. “You might as well get used to it. Every year Trisha and Kent get into it over the turkey. She critiques his and he critiques hers when she cooks. The only years we don’t hear the fight between them is when Mom cooks the turkey.”