Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance)

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Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance) Page 4

by Vivian Ward


  His tongue makes a loud pop from the roof of his mouth as his jaw drops open.

  “Oh, Logan, don’t tell me that she’s not coming.”

  He leans back in his leather chair, looking down his nose at me.

  “I’d hate to take that invitation off the table because you’re not bringing her.”

  What? Did he just say that if Piper doesn’t come that I can’t either?

  “I—I’m sorry, sir. What did—,” he interrupts me.

  “I said that I’d hate to withdraw your invitation if that pretty little thing doesn’t come with you on the 25th, Kraft.”

  I’m no longer sweating bullets. I can’t breathe. It feels like someone sucked all of the air out of my lungs.

  I can’t ask her to come. She has her party that day.

  “I didn’t realize that her not coming would be an issue, sir.”

  “No, it’s no issue at all. If she can’t make it, I’m sure I can find someone else to make partner. No problem.”

  Shit, he’s not playing around. He’d really take my offer off the table.

  “You’re right, it won’t be a problem,” I say to him, grinning. “I’m sure Piper will be able to make it.”

  I leave off the part about her killing me first.

  “Good,” he reaches across the desk and pats my arm.

  A knock on the door interrupts us as his legal secretary Kelly announces his appointment has arrived.

  “We’ll catch up at the party,” he says, rising from his chair.

  “Yes, that sounds great,” I lie.

  Chapter 5

  Logan

  Racing home from work, I stop to pick up the dinner that I ordered to-go from Olive Garden, one of Piper’s favorite restaurants.

  Her car pulls into the driveway just moments after I’m inside the house leaving me no time to get everything ready to eat.

  “Hey, babe,” she smiles at me as she walks into the kitchen. “Dinner smells great! What are we having?”

  “I picked up some Italian food on my way home. I even got you extra breadsticks,” I kiss her cheek. “Hungry?”

  “Aww, Logan, that’s sweet, but you shouldn’t have. I can’t eat them.”

  The world must be coming to an end because she loves her breadsticks.

  “What? Why can’t you eat them?”

  “Well, I can’t eat most of what you have, but you get an A for effort.”

  “Are you going to clue me in on why you’re not eating your favorite dinner in the whole world? Did you eat late at the office?”

  She laughs and tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

  “No, but I have to watch my weight. I’ve been sort of dieting the last few weeks. It’s too close to the wedding to make any alterations on my gown if I get too fat for my dress.”

  She’s either delusional, or she’s starved herself into madness because I’m looking at her perfect body and there’s not a thing wrong with her.

  “Pfft, dieting,” I mock her. “Piper, do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are? You’re perfect.”

  I pick up one of the breadsticks.

  “Here,” I put it in front of her face. “Eat.”

  She crinkles her nose and smiles, shaking her head no.

  “Can’t,” she says.

  “Can. Eat,” I push the breadstick closer to her mouth.

  “Can’t.”

  “Piper, eat.”

  “Can’t,” she backs away until her ass bumps into the counter.

  “Can,” I say.

  “No carbs,” she contests.

  She’s weak. I see it in her eyes and can tell that she wants to eat it. I know that her mouth is watering from the light garlic scent.

  “No carbs, no sex,” I counter.

  I’m not really sure how withholding sex from her would work to my benefit, but I don’t want her denying herself her favorite foods over a wedding gown.

  “You wouldn’t,” she smiles, eying me.

  “I would,” I nod. “Now eat. One little breadstick isn’t going to make you fat.”

  After taking a bite of breadstick, she wraps her arms around her stomach.

  “Mmm,” she says, savoring the warm, doughy goodness in her mouth. “The best carbs EVER!”

  We both laugh at how silly she is before we sit down to eat our meal together.

  “So how was your day?” she asks.

  For the first time since I’ve gotten my invite to Ford’s party, I hate hearing that question. Even though the guys have been giving me shit, I haven’t minded her asking how my day was. It’s something we do every night when we sit down together.

  “About that,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “I need to talk to you.”

  Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives me a pouty face.

  “Why? Is something wrong? Don’t tell me any bad news,” she pleads.

  “It’s about Ford.”

  “I had a gut feeling you were going to say that. What happened?”

  “You know that the guys have been jealous, so they’ve been taking digs at me,” she nods.

  “Uh-huh,” she says, pushing the last bit of breadstick into her mouth.

  “Today they were doing it again, and I said something I shouldn’t have and Ford heard me.”

  Her eyes grow into round dollar pieces.

  “No, no,” I assure her. “It’s nothing like that. I didn’t get into any trouble.”

  “Oh,” she says, covering her heart with her hand. “You had me worried. I thought you were going to say that you got fired or something.”

  “No, not quite but I may as well have been.”

  “Do you need something to drink? I think I need something to drink,” she says, getting up to get in the fridge.

  “Yeah, pour me a glass too, please,” I say to her. “So anyway, he asks me to go to his office.”

  “It’s never good when your boss asks you to come to the office,” she says, filling the second glass. “Here, this one is yours.”

  Taking a drink, I wish it were something stronger. She’s going to kill me when I ask her what I’m about to say, which is why I picked up her favorite dinner. The more I butter her up, the softer the blow might be when she punches me in the gut.

  “We get in his office, and we talk about the guys, and luckily he’s not worried in the slightest about me putting them in their place. I think he liked it, actually.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” she asks.

  “We started talking about the party, and he mentioned you being there, but I told him that you wouldn’t be able to attend.”

  I stop because I don’t want to tell her the rest, so I pretend to greedily drink my wine, gulping it down until there’s nothing left.

  “And?” she asks.

  “Ah,” I wipe my mouth, finishing off the last drop. “He said he’d take my invitation off the table if you didn’t come.”

  Her eyebrows contort as she tries to comprehend what I just said, and then her jaw drops.

  “Wait,” she braces herself against the counter. “He told you that you couldn’t come if you didn’t bring me?”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “But why? Why would he care whether or not I was there with you? I don’t understand.”

  Sighing, I run my hand through my hair and hold onto the back of my neck, shrugging.

  “I don’t know, babe. I’m just telling you what he said.”

  “Maybe he was just joking. He was kidding, right? Or you’re joking?”

  “I’m afraid not. I wish I were making this up, but that’s what he said.”

  She lets it sink in for a minute and takes a healthy drink from her glass.

  “Logan, what are we going to do? I can’t cancel my bridal shower, and I don’t want it to cost you partnership at the firm,” her voice trails off.

  “I don’t know,” I say, refilling my glass. “Could you maybe push it forward or back a day? Just have it on Sunday instead of Saturd
ay?”

  The fire that ignites behind her eyes tells me that I’m in a lot of trouble. I can practically see the flames of hell threatening to lick my skin if I make any other suggestions, so I slowly back away, hoping if I play dead she won’t kill me.

  “You. Did. Not. Even.”

  She walks closer toward me, and I can see how mad she is. Big mistake on my part.

  “What? No,” I say, laughing, putting my hands in front of me as a peace offering. “I would never.”

  I love my Piper to death, but when it comes to the wedding, it’s something that is not to be fucked with. She is in total control, and nothing happens without her approval.

  “Good,” she purrs.

  A moment later she slumps down in the chair realizing what’s at stake.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “All of this wedding stuff is making me crazy. You know that usually, I’d bend over backward to make things happen for you, but that’s supposed to be my day.”

  I can tell she feels bad about it and I hate that. I don’t want her to feel guilty.

  “The thing is, I’ve talked to Meagan and Deb about it. I was hoping one of them would make me feel better about not going with you, but they couldn’t. I feel awful.”

  “I know, Pipes,” I kiss her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

  “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. The thing is, it’s been something that’s been bothering me anyway. I want to be there to show my support for you. I want to be there for you,” she caresses my hair.

  “You do?”

  I’m not entirely surprised because that’s how she is, how we are, but to hear her say that she wants to be there makes me feel so much better. It’s nice to know that she’s not just blowing me off or hasn’t given it a second thought. I’d really like for her to be right next to me, but I realize that would be selfish and I’d never ask her to do something like that.

  “Of course!” she smiles at me. “Listen, I don’t want Ford to take that invitation off the table so let me do something thinking on this. Okay?”

  “No, you don’t have to do that. I’m such a bad fiancé.”

  “Are you crazy?” she sits on my lap and plants a kiss on my lips.

  Her cherry flavored lip gloss coats my lips and I love the taste. It tastes almost as sweet as she does.

  “Look at this big ass rock you bought me,” she holds her engagement ring out in front of us, admiring it in the light. “And when we seal the deal, it’ll be even bigger. You’re the best man a girl could want.”

  “Huh. I see. Is it because I buy you big diamonds?” I tease her.

  “No, you have a big cock too, and that helps,” she laughs.

  “How would you know? It hasn’t been inside of you for almost two days.”

  “Well, let’s go fix that problem right now, big boy,” she stands up, holding her hand out to lead me to the bedroom.

  “I’d be a damn fool if I said no,” I turn her hand over and softly kiss her wrist.

  “Yes, you would be,” she agrees, laughing as we walk through the foyer. “Maybe I’ll find a way to get you out of this mess and then you can fuck me on your desk once you get your private office.”

  “I do love the way you think, my future Mrs. Kraft.”

  Chapter 6

  Piper

  There’s no way that this can be happening. The last thing that I want is for him to lose this opportunity, so I’ve figured out a way that I’m going to try to get him out of it. I feel kind of bad though because I almost feel like I’m sneaking behind his back.

  Usually, I’d just talk to him, but he’d never agree to me seeing Mr. Ford about this. He’s too proud to have his fiancée do anything for him, especially when it comes to talking to his managing partner.

  Logan probably doesn’t realize that I know this, but he didn’t sleep at all last night. He said that he was coming to bed late because he had to get things ready for a case that he was working on, but I know that’s not the real reason. He’s worried about the party, or potentially losing it.

  As soon as I can sneak away from my desk for the first time today, I head straight to the break room to put my plan into action.

  “Ford and Associates. This is Rebecca,” the ditzy receptionist answers.

  Nobody likes her, but for some reason, they keep her around.

  “May I please talk to Mr. Ford’s legal secretary, Kelly?” I ask.

  “Who’s calling?”

  “I’d rather not say, but it’s urgent.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “But I can’t transfer you until I’m able to say who’s calling.”

  “Please,” I sigh, rubbing my temples with my fingertips as I cradle the phone against my shoulder. “My husband is one of the partners, and I’m trying to pull off a surprise. I just want to keep a low profile.”

  I feel sorry for lying to her, but the less anyone knows what I’m up to, the better. Reluctant, she finally lets out a heavy sigh and transfers me back to Kelly’s private line.

  “Hi, Kelly?” I ask when she answers the phone.

  “Yes? May I ask who this is?” Kelly replies.

  “Hi, Kelly. This is Piper, Logan’s wife. How are you?”

  “Good,” she says. “Rebecca must have mixed up the transfer. Would you like to transfer you to Logan?”

  “Oh, no. Please don’t do that. I was actually hoping to talk to you.”

  “Me?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I playfully giggle, trying my best to sound friendly. “I was wondering when Logan is going to be out of the office?”

  “When is he going to be OUT of the office? What do you mean?”

  “Is there any particular time that he won’t be there? I’d like to come and talk to Mr. Ford in private, and I don’t want Logan to know.”

  “Oh,” she says, realizing my question. “I’m not sure. I don’t know Logan’s schedule as I don’t work for him, but I’m sure I can ask one of the paralegals and find out. Can I call you back?”

  “Sure, let me give you my number,” I say to her.

  After we hang up, I sit at my desk unable to work. I’m too distracted. I feel like meeting Logan’s boss behind his back is wrong. I feel like I should tell Logan, but all I want to do is talk to Mr. Ford and try to reason with him. Maybe if I can make him understand that his party is the same day as my bridal shower, he’ll drop it and still give Logan the chance to make partner.

  The last thing that I want is for Logan to lose out on an opportunity that could really advance his career all because of my bridal shower. And it’s not like I feel that my bridal shower is more important than his career, but it’s the only one I’ll ever have. All of my friends have planned their weekend around this. My best friend even took vacation and practically pulled teeth to attend it.

  Marriage is about compromise and sacrifice. That’s what all relationships are, really. Don’t we all do things that we can’t or don’t want to do to make others happy? At least at some point?

  On my way to lunch, I’m walking across the street to a sandwich shop when my phone starts ringing, and I immediately realize that the number is most likely Kelly.

  “Hello?” I answer, happy that she called me back.

  “Hi Piper, is this a good time?” she asks.

  “Yes, it’s perfect.”

  “Good,” she says. “It’s Kelly.”

  “I know. I’ve been waiting for you to call me back. Were you able to figure out his schedule?”

  “I did,” she says. “But I’m sorry to say that the only time Logan will be out of the office this week is tomorrow and unfortunately, Mr. Ford won’t be here either.”

  “Damn,” I say. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  She laughs, and I can almost picture her tossing her head back. Sort of like a Cruella de Vil from 101 Dalmations.

  “Honey, I’ve heard a lot more than that working in this law firm. These guys hate to lose so when they do; they let ‘em rip. But
listen, I did talk to Mr. Ford.”

  “You did?” I ask, surprised that she took the initiative for me.

  This woman doesn’t know me very well, and Mr. Ford isn’t a man to be bothered.

  “Yes, and he said that if you’d be willing to, he could meet you at The Indigo Room tomorrow evening around 6:00 since he’ll already be in that area.”

  The Indigo Room is a swanky lounge where all of the attorneys and judges go to meet, as well as other significant figures, so I bet he has business there which is why he won’t be in the office. They feature secluded areas where the clientele can hold private meetings.

  I’ve never personally been inside of The Indigo Room, but Logan has told me all about it when he’s gone to meet prestigious clients that they were working for.

  “Sure, that will work. Thank you so much,” I say to her.

  “And Piper?” she asks.

  “Hmm?”

  “Don’t be late. Mr. Ford has little patience when he’s doing favors. You wouldn’t want to upset him.”

  “I won’t,” I assure her. “I’ll be there.”

  The call ends without any reply from her, and I’m left wondering how I can play this off.

  Logan is usually home by then, but if he has to be at the courthouse or has other business to attend, maybe he’ll be late.

  Maybe.

  As I finish out my work day, all I can think about is how to persuade Mr. Ford to see things my way and how I’ll work around Logan’s schedule.

  Chapter 7

  Logan

  “How was your day?” Piper asks as she pours us drinks to go with our dinner.

  Loosening my tie, I push up my sleeves and begin cutting through my steak. She always cooks them perfectly seared and just pink on the inside. Starved, I take a bite before answering her.

  “Oh,” I roll my eyes. “It’s delicious!”

  “Thank you,” she smiles, pleased with my approval.

  “Today was brutal. I had to get everything ready for tomorrow, and I’m not totally sure that I got everything. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who does anything around that place.”

 

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