Falling For Them: A New Adult Reverse Harem Collection

by C. L. Stone

  When I finally had a few minutes to myself, I checked my cell. There were missed calls from Cole and Nicholas and text messages from all three guys. I deleted the messages without reading them—as I’d done with every one they’d sent since the confrontation—then opened a text from Simone.

  Simone: Hey, girl. You commit matricide yet?

  Me: Not yet.

  Simone: That’s a relief. You’re too pretty for prison.

  Simone: Did the heat ever get turned back on in your apartment?

  I flinched. It was time to come clean.

  Me: Yeah, about that. I might have fibbed about my reason for needing your apartment.

  Simone: If you had sex on my bed, you’re doing my laundry for a month.

  I sputtered out a laugh. Only Simone.

  Me: Um, no. It wasn’t that.

  Simone: What, then? Spill!

  Me: It’s a long story . . .

  I had barely hit “send” when my phone started ringing. “Hi, Simone.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Might as well get this over with. “Do you remember that guy who invited us to the VIP room at Loft25?”

  “Cole, right?”

  “Yes. Then, there was the guy I told you about who stopped me when we were leaving.”

  “Prince Charming?”

  “Yeah, that’s him. Anyway, I didn’t tell you, but I met and danced with a third guy that night.”

  “Damn, girl.”

  “I know.”

  I went on to explain everything that happened at Loft25, discovering the next day that Shane, Cole, and Nicholas owned the club, and the dates with each of them. And, then I described the scene at the casino lounge.

  Simone whistled. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “Which part?”

  “Honestly, any of it, but especially posing as Dark Angel’s assistant . . . and the drinks. Lying bastards.” She laughed. “That was brilliant.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “Thanks.”

  “What now?”

  “What do you mean? It’s over.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  No. “Yes. I was a bet, Simone! It’s demeaning and kind of humiliating.”

  “Calm down. I’m not disagreeing with you about that. But . . .”

  “But?” I asked impatiently when her pause went on for too long.

  “I think maybe you’re into these guys.”

  “Well, yeah, they’re sexy as hell.”

  “Nope, I’m not buying it. I’ve seen you get hit on by plenty of sexy guys and not even give them a second glance.”

  “So?”

  “So, I don’t think you’re okay with it being over.”

  I groaned in frustration. “I only went on one date with each of them! It’s not like we were even really involved.”

  “Yet, you had two of the best kisses of your life—your words, not mine. Don’t you think that means something?”

  “Did you not hear the sexy as hell part?”

  “Fine, I’ll let it go for now. But, I’ll bet you my favorite Kate Spade clutch that it’s not over between you and the triple triple threats.”

  “No! No more bets. And, ‘the triple triple threats’? Seriously?”

  Simone laughed. “Yeah, one hot, smart, and rich guy times three. Gotta go. Love ya!”

  I slumped back against my headboard. So much for leaving all thoughts of my sexy exes in Vegas.

  * * *

  “It’s nice to have you home, Em.” My dad hugged me to his side as we exited the grocery store, our last errand of the afternoon.

  “Thanks, Dad. I missed you too.”

  “Your mother’s not driving you crazy, is she?”

  “So far so good, but I have a feeling she’s up to something.”

  “That woman is almost always up to something,” he said, and we both laughed.

  I tried to read Dad’s face for clues, but he merely shrugged in response. My dad, much as I loved him, always bent to her wishes. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like if he stuck up for me more.

  Dad carried the groceries into the house while I attempted to slip upstairs unnoticed. My hand had just grazed the banister when my mother called my name. Maybe if I didn’t respond, she would give up and leave me alone for a little while?

  “Emma,” she called again. So much for that idea, I thought.

  “Did you need something?” I called.

  “Come say hello to your guest,” she said cheerfully.

  My guest? Please don’t be Matt. Please don’t be Matt. Please don’t be Matt, I chanted in my head, my agitation mounting with each step.

  Rounding the corner to the kitchen, I came face-to-face with a scene I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams. Shane and my mother sat at the table drinking coffee, both appearing at ease. Am I hallucinating? Maybe that peppermint mocha I had earlier was laced with something?

  Shane rose from the table and gave me a chaste peck on the cheek. “Hello, sweetheart.”

  Dumbfounded, I remained silent while he returned to the table and pulled out a chair. Finally realizing I had a part to play, at least for the moment, I smiled and took a seat.

  “I’ve been getting to know your boyfriend while you were out with your father. You really had no idea he was coming?”

  I shook my head. Boyfriend?

  My mother continued talking; she was one of those women capable of having an entire conversation without anyone else actually contributing. “It’s quite romantic, surprising Emma like this on Christmas Eve.” That’s one word for it.

  “Anything for Emma,” Shane responded. Meeting his eyes, I noticed they were full of remorse. Good.

  “I can’t believe Emma didn’t tell me she was seeing someone,” she admonished. “How long have the two of you been dating?”

  “Since August,” I answered quickly, wishing this conversation would end before it completely spiraled out of control. “And I did mention it to you recently.” Though, in all fairness, I’d known she was distracted when I told her on the phone that I was dating someone. And, even that had been a lie.

  “August!” She sounded horrified, like I’d been keeping the world’s biggest secret from her. Maybe I should have chosen a more recent month.

  “And I’ve loved every minute,” Shane added with a sly smile. Crap. I had fallen into his trap and was now playing along with his deception.

  “Emma completely deprives me of information, Shane. How did you two lovebirds meet?” She was really laying it on thick.

  “I’m sure Shane’s tired after his flight,” I interjected, concerned by what he might tell her.

  “Not at all. I’d love to tell you the story, Mrs. Harris.”

  “Please, Shane, I told you to call me Cynthia,” she said as she placed a hand on his wrist. If I didn’t know better, I would say that she was fawning all over him.

  But, I wasn’t fooled. Given the choice, I was positive she’d still prefer that I reconcile with Matt. To my mother, Matt was the ideal son-in-law—perfectly content to stay in our hometown, get married, and have children. While she was still looking at Shane, I stared at him wide-eyed, begging him to make up a good story, one that didn’t involve my slinky red dress, Loft25, or anything else my mother would find scandalous.

  “We met through mutual friends.” Okay, so far so good. “They thought Emma and I would hit it off and invited us on a double date. I was skeptical, but the minute Emma entered the room,” he paused and turned his attention to me, “I was captivated.” His performance was so convincing that I almost believed it.

  “What a lovely story.” She checked her watch. “Oh my, it’s getting late. I better check on the rolls.”

  Taking that as our opportunity to retreat, I stood before my mother could change her mind or, god forbid, ask me to help her. Once we were out of sight, I grabbed Shane’s arm and pulled him down the hall into the empty office.

  “What the hell do you think you
’re doing?” I whispered forcefully.

  “Nice to see you too, darling.” He stepped forward, attempting to close the space between us.

  I held up my hand to stop him. “No, seriously. What are you doing here, Shane?”

  “I needed to see you, and I wanted to apologize.”

  “So you flew all the way to Indiana, even after I ignored all of the calls and texts that you, Cole, and Nicholas sent me? That’s absurd. And how did you even find me?”

  “The internet is full of useful information, from adjectives starting with e to addresses.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” I said, wanting to slap the smirk off his face while remembering all he had to do was check the address on my Indiana driver’s license. Ugh. “And, I hope you didn’t come all this way intent to win the bet.”

  “Emma . . .” he pleaded, a hurt look passing over his face.

  Of course the doorbell rang at that moment. “What now?” I muttered.

  “Emma, please get the door,” my mother called, prompting me to roll my eyes. Couldn’t she ask my dad or Chris to answer the door?

  I turned to leave, but Shane grabbed my wrist. “I swear this has nothing to do with that idiotic bet, and I know you’re still angry, but I’m really glad to be here. Let’s get through dinner, together, and we can talk more later. Okay?”

  Reluctantly, I nodded, knowing that I didn’t have much of a choice. And, if I was being honest, I was glad to see him. If Shane continued playing the part of dream boyfriend for my parents, this Christmas visit was going to be more pleasant than I anticipated.

  But, when I opened the front door, all my hopes on that score vanished.

  9

  I shot Matt a dark look, although I had a feeling my glare really should be directed at my mother. Damn her meddling. “What are you doing here?”

  He gave me a crooked smile. “Didn’t Cynthia tell you she invited me to dinner?”

  “No, she didn’t,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Well? Are you going to let me in?” He held out a bakery box. “I brought your favorite cupcakes.”

  Frozen in indecision, I didn’t move or speak. If I refused, my mother would throw a fit and accuse me of being childish and rude. If I caved, I would be forced to spend an evening with my ex-boyfriend and Shane. Either way, I couldn’t win.

  I felt Shane before I saw him as he slipped behind me and placed a possessive arm around my waist. “You’re letting cold air in, babe.”

  His smooth voice and nearness made me shudder, and I tried to hide my reaction by rubbing my arms. “You’re right, it’s freezing out.”

  When I noticed the glower Matt was aiming at Shane, I knew what I needed to do to survive this wretched dinner. I snuggled up against his chest and gave Matt a smug grin. “Come on in.”

  I took his coat, relieved when my mother called him into the kitchen. Seizing the brief moment alone, I waved Shane over to the coat closet. “As you probably guessed, Matt is my ex and I don’t want him here,” I whispered as I shoved the coat on a hanger. “So, you are going to be the best damn fake boyfriend ever for the next couple of hours. Got it?” I turned to face him.

  “Absolutely. But,” he ran his thumb over my collarbone, “there’ll be no faking anything when it comes to us.”

  I looked away, pretending that his words didn’t excite me. “You’re impossible.”

  “Don’t you mean impossibly debonair?”

  “Whatever, self-important Shane.”

  He chuckled, but didn’t respond, and allowed me to guide him to the dining room. Everyone else was already seated, and I was thankful that at least Matt was across from my usual spot rather than next to it.

  “Matthew,” my mother said, breaking the silence that had settled around the table once everyone filled their plates. “Is your family doing anything special tomorrow?”

  “My sister and her kids will be over in the morning to open presents, then we’re going to my grandparents’ house for dinner.” He turned his gaze on me. “I was hoping that you would join us, Em. You haven’t missed a Christmas dinner in what . . .” He looked at the ceiling as he mentally counted. “The last five years? I’m sure Grandma already filled a stocking for you.”

  My shoulders tensed at his familiarity and the reference to all the years we were together. What part of we’re done did he not understand? Did he honestly think he could just waltz in here on Christmas Eve, reminisce about old times—complete with a mention of his sweet grandmother, no less—and I’d take him back? And, hello, new boyfriend alert!

  Forcing composure I didn’t feel, I said, “Thank you for the invitation, Matt, but I can’t make it. Please tell Grandma Sue I said hello.”

  “I’m certain you have time to at least stop by and say hello, Emma,” my mother chastised. “You would hate to disappoint Matthew’s family, especially on Christmas.”

  I gave my mother an incredulous look. Was Shane invisible to everyone at this table except me? I felt a reassuring squeeze on my thigh and took a deep breath.

  My dad cleared his throat. “Shane, what is it that you do?” At least he wasn’t oblivious to how inappropriate Mom and Matt were being.

  Shane, seeming completely relaxed despite the awkwardness, gave my dad a friendly smile. “I split my time between a couple of business ventures. My father runs a real estate investment company in Los Angeles, and now I help him with the Las Vegas arm of the company. And, I co-own and operate a nightclub.”

  My mother’s face scrunched with displeasure, but before she could say anything, Chris piped up. “That’s awesome! Can you get me in when I visit Emma over spring break?”

  I put down my fork and took a long swig of wine. This was going to get ugly.

  “Excuse me?” My mother looked like she was about to come unglued. “You can’t possibly think I’d allow your brother to visit Las Vegas,” she said to me, practically spitting the last few words.

  “Why not?” Chris complained. “I’m already eighteen, and Emma wasn’t that much older than me when she moved there.”

  “I planned on speaking to you about it before going back,” I told her. “It would be fun.”

  Shane lifted his arm so that it rested on the back of my chair, providing unexpected comfort. “We promise to take good care of Chris, Mrs. Harris. Mr. Harris.”

  I felt a prickle of warmth at Shane’s support. This was new for me; Matt had always been more likely to gang up on me with my mother than back me up.

  Mom gave Shane a tight smile before saying to Chris and me, “We’ll discuss this later.”

  “Aren't you kind of young to own a nightclub?” my dad asked, seeming more curious than anything.

  Shane grinned. “Yes, although it's only been open for a few months. My business partners and I were very determined to accomplish our goal of opening a club before we turned twenty-five, so we made it happen.”

  Matt snorted, and everyone looked at him. “I'm sorry,” he said, chuckling. “I just find it ironic that Emma is dating a club owner. She hates clubbing.”

  Did he really want to go there? “Actually, that's not true. I stopped going because you didn't like me having fun without you.”

  “Emma!” my mother cried, but I ignored her.

  “And, no, clubbing isn't my favorite thing, but Loft25 is great.” Since my dad and Chris appeared to be genuinely interested in the topic, I directed my attention to them. “Shane and his partners converted this sad looking warehouse into a cool urban loft space. And, it has a kind of relaxed vibe that you don't usually find in Vegas clubs. I like it.”

  Shane kissed my temple. “Thanks, babe.” His eyes shone with satisfaction, and I mentally scolded myself. What was I doing defending, and even complimenting, him?

  My mother, clearly unhappy with the turn of dinner conversation, started chattering about the neighbor’s dreadful Christmas lights, Matt’s plans for his vacation, really anything that would keep me from causing more of a scene, I suspected. Thankfully, it
worked, and the rest of the meal passed without additional drama. Matt was overly polite and Shane was charming.

  After dessert, I offered to show Matt out, knowing he would linger if I didn’t literally push him out the door. Before we’d made it two steps, he latched onto my arm.

  “At least come to the New Year’s Eve party,” he pleaded. “Everyone wants to see you.”

  Impatient, I withdrew my arm and handed Matt his coat. “I can’t. I’m going back to Vegas before then.”

  “What? You’re not even staying home for another week? What is going on with you, Em? Don’t you want to spend time with your friends and family?”

  “Don’t call me Em!” I spat, opening the front door and pushing him onto the porch. “Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I’m spending time with my family right now, and I’m meeting up with a few of the girls on Saturday. I have a life outside of Indiana. Deal with it.”

  His face twisted with anger. “Is this about that rich asshole? You’ve been sleeping with him all along, haven’t you?”

  I crossed my arms and glared. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t even meet Shane until after we broke up! Emphasis on broke up. We are not together anymore, Matt. Who I date is none of your damn business.”

  He grabbed me by the waist. “You will always be my business.”

  Before I could react, the door flew open and Shane stormed out. “Remove your hands. Now.” His voice was low and intimidating. It was freaking hot.

  Matt whirled around, reflexively dropping his hands. “Don’t tell me what to do, fucker,” he growled.

  Shane maneuvered around Matt until he was standing between us. “I think it’s time that you leave.”

  “Yeah? You gonna make me?”

  Shane’s voice remained steady. “I’d prefer not to disrespect Mr. and Mrs. Harris by kicking your ass on their front lawn, but I’ll do it.”

  Matt looked at me, his nose flaring. “You know what, Em? If this is the type of guy you want, then fuck you. I can do better, anyway.” He stalked to his car and peeled out of the driveway.

  Shane pulled me gently into his arms. “Are you okay?”

  I inhaled, liking the warm, spicy scent of his cologne. “I’m fine.”