Smooth Operators [Clandestine Affairs 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Zara Chase

  “She’s sound asleep,” he said to the others.

  Gus, busy preparing their supper, stuck his head around the kitchen door. “Aw, she must be beat.”

  “Go get some logs in,” Fergal told Harley. “The evenings still get cold around here.”

  Harley trotted off to do as he was told. Fergal found some kindling and started to build a fire in the huge grate. By the time Harley returned with a basketful of logs, Fergal already had a blaze going.

  “I think I saw some candles in the dining room,” Fergal said. “Let’s get the dust sheets off this furniture, get some candles going, and create a real homely atmosphere for when she wakes up.”

  “You are thinking what I’m thinking,” Harley accused. “About time you came down off that moral high ground and admitted you want her as much as we do.”

  “I want her to relax,” Fergal replied. “There’s stuff she’s not telling us, I’m sure of it.”

  The three of them worked like the compact unit they’d always been—Gus in the kitchen, Fergal and Harley transforming the lounge into something closer to the room that Briana recalled from her younger days. There was nothing they could do about the bare-plaster walls, but low lighting and a roaring fire worked in their favor.

  “I like it,” Harley said, plumping up the cushions on a big old armchair and then throwing himself into it.

  “Yeah.” Fergal nodded.

  “What the devil—”

  The men glanced at the doorway and saw Briana standing there, corkscrew curls tumbling over her shoulders, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

  “We didn’t want to disturb you,” Fergal said. “You looked kinda beat.”

  “I can’t believe I slept for so long.” She glanced around the room. “This looks so inviting. Thanks, but dinner, I ought to—”

  “Gus has got it covered.” Fergal patted the seat beside him. “Take a load off. We came prepared with beer and wine. Which would you prefer?”

  “Wine.” She shot him a grateful smile. “I haven’t seen any of that for a while.”

  “You’ve just got time for one glass,” Gus said, sticking his head out of the kitchen door. “Then we’ll eat.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’m famished, but it doesn’t seem right letting you guys wait on me.”

  “It’s what we do best,” Harley said. “We’re well trained.”

  She laughed. “So I see.”

  Fergal handed her a brimming glass of white wine. She thanked him, took a healthy sip, and nodded appreciatively. “I could get used to this.”

  “All part of the service, ma’am.”

  “I haven’t even asked you if you got the timber.”

  “No problems. Your guys can get started tomorrow.”

  “I’m real grateful to you.”

  “Food’s up,” Gus said, carrying serving dishes through to the dining room.

  Fergal helped Briana to her feet, and they all followed Gus. The table was set for the four of them, more candles burning on every surface, wine in a cooler. Briana, seated between Fergal and Gus, cut into her steak, took a bite, and closed her eyes in appreciation.

  “Where did you learn to cook?” she asked Gus. “This is delicious.”

  “My dad’s a chef, and the family has a couple of restaurants, so I guess I was raised to appreciate good food. Then, in the marines, it was either take over the catering whenever I got the chance or accept third best.” Briana twirled one of her crazy curls around her finger, her gaze fixed on Gus’s face as he chatted about his culinary skills and sent her the occasional sinful smile. Fergal watched her, thinking she probably didn’t realize that she was responding to his buddy’s lazy, persuasive charm in the exact same way that most women did when he bothered to turn it on. “I like to eat well so, hanging out with these two, I have no choice but to be chief cook and bottle washer.”

  “What do the three of you do?” she asked. “Presumably you’re not in the service anymore.”

  “We live in Columbus Falls,” Fergal told her.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you were from this state.”

  “Originally we’re from all over,” Harley told her, “but we served together, share lots of…er, interests in common, and so it seemed sensible to stay together.”

  “Oh.” She covered her mouth with her hand and blushed deeply. “I didn’t realize—”

  “Not those sorts of interests,” Fergal said. “We’re not gay, if that’s what you’re thinking, we’re simply business partners.”

  “We’re ski instructors in the winter,” Gus told her. “In the summer we lead orienteering treks in the mountains, stuff like that. It’s what we’re trained to do, and we’re good at it, though I do say so myself.”

  “You’re like me then,” she replied. “You enjoy being outside, close to nature.”

  “Absolutely,” they all said together.

  “That was really good, Gus, thanks,” Briana said, pushing her empty plate aside. “I can’t remember the last time I ate so much.”

  “Glad it met with your approval, ma’am.”

  “I’ll clear the dishes.”

  “No you won’t.” Gus took her elbow and helped her from her chair. “I cook, these guys clean up after me, that’s the rule.”

  “Yes, but I can still help. I was supposed to cook for you, remember?”

  “They can manage. They’re big boys.”

  “Hmm,” Briana said, making Fergal think that she’d probably noticed that for herself but didn’t wish to say so.

  “It also means I get to sit by the fire and have you all to myself for a while,” Gus added.

  Briana laughed. “Seems only fair.”

  Fergal was pleased when she responded to Gus’s flirtatious tone in like manner. It implied that she was starting to relax around them. Better yet, there had been no further talk of them leaving since they’d gotten back from collecting the timber. Gus could build on the start they’d made with her while he and Harley cleared up the kitchen. They had a way to go with her yet, so it was probably better not to crowd her or come on too strong. She was fiercely independent and emotionally damaged. Fergal reminded himself that they weren’t there to make things more complicated for her.

  Her phone rang before she even made it back to the great room. She picked it up, listened to what was being said, and Fergal could tell from her stricken expression that it was bad news.

  “What’s happened?” he asked when she ended the call.

  “My guys can’t start on the roof tomorrow,” she replied, thumping the back of a chair in obvious frustration. “Someone’s ratted them out to the IRS.”

  Chapter Six

  “What the fuck?” Fergal shared her anger. “I didn’t see that one coming.”

  Briana shrugged, trying hard not to show just how badly this latest blow had affected her. “The way my luck’s been running with this project, nothing surprises me anymore.”

  “What did your guys say?”

  “Their boss got a call from the local IRS office. Supposedly it was just a friendly warning telling him he’d be held responsible if his employees were caught working anywhere for cash in hand.” She looked at each of them in turn, shaking her head. “How could they know?”

  “They’re pissing in the wind, darlin’,” Harley said, looking as angry as Fergal obviously felt. These guys weren’t comfortable to be around when they got mad, Briana was fast discovering.

  “Agreed.” A muscle in Fergal’s jaw flexed and hardened. “It’s total bullshit. The guys hadn’t even started working for you yet, so if they had been reported it could only have been recently. Contrary to popular belief, the IRS simply doesn’t react that fast. Nor do they issue friendly warnings. Someone’s yanking your chain, sweetheart.”

  “How do they know the call even came from the IRS?” Gus asked.

  “Oh, I didn’t think to ask.” She frowned. “But who else would it be?”

  “How long have you got?” Fergal replied.


  Their reaction ought to have calmed her, but it had the opposite effect. She felt tears brimming and was determined not to cry in front of them. Briana never cried. Crying for her mama when she’d been a little girl, scared of the dark, had gotten her nowhere. Her daddy was never around to make things better, so she’d learned to bottle her emotions up, put on a tough front, and never allowed anyone to see how badly she was hurting.

  Never allowed anyone to get too close.

  She’d tried to explain her feelings to Greg when he’d accused her of being cold-hearted. He knew her better than anyone—had supposedly wanted to marry her—but seemed to think she could shake off her bitterness about her mother’s betrayal and get on with life like it was no big deal. His reaction taught her an important lesson, and she’d never attempted to explain her commitment issues to anyone else since then. Bury the hurt, slap on a smile, and keep it all bottled up. That had always worked for Briana. It would work again now.

  She’d get through this latest setback. Somehow. She bounced back every time something went wrong with her project, her enthusiasm and determination overcoming all roadblocks set in her path. She would draw on that strength and overcome this problem, too.

  Except this felt like one disaster too many, and it was beyond her to cope. She was tired of coping, of trying to remain positive while always playing catch-up. Perhaps the wine was responsible for her sudden fit of self-pity, or maybe too little sleep over a long period was finally taking its toll. Either way, tears were perilously close. She needed to get out of here in case she couldn’t control them. The guys would never let her be if she went all girly on them and broke down.

  “Excuse me,” she said, heading for her room at a run.

  She slammed the door behind her, assuming none of them would follow her over the threshold. Stupid mistake! These guys clearly didn’t understand the concept of privacy, and when the door opened again almost immediately, it occurred to her that she should have locked herself in the bathroom instead. She looked up and saw Fergal leaning against the door jamb, arms folded across his impressive torso, looking like he’d just stepped off the pages of a magazine.

  “I just need a private minute,” she said.

  “It ain’t so bad, darlin’.”

  He spoke in a softly hypnotic cadence, not budging from his spot in the open doorway where his broad shoulder appeared to be holding up the wall. The warm richness of his penetrating gaze sent her emotions into free fall. She was unable to dash the tears away before he saw them, but it no longer seemed to matter. He appeared unbothered that they were alone in her bedroom, which is when Briana realized that her emotions had undergone a sea change. Two minutes ago her problems seemed like the end of the world. Now she wasn’t even thinking about them. How could she when fiery vibes flew between them as their gazes clashed and the silence intensified. She became increasingly aware of the powerful aura that clung to him, like he could achieve anything he set his mind to because it wouldn’t occur to him that failure was an option.

  She blamed the charged atmosphere, his hungry gaze, and her turbulent emotions when her thoughts flew to sex. It seemed to happen whenever she was alone with any of them and was so untypical of her that it helped bring her to her senses.

  “Easy for you to say,” she replied, grabbing a tissue from the box on the dresser and blowing her nose.

  “You just need to be strong, and we’ll get to the bottom of who’s doing this to you.”

  Briana blinked back her surprise. “You think someone’s deliberately—”

  “I’m sure of it.” He reached for her hand. “Come on, let’s go in the other room and talk this through. Between us we ought to be able to figure it out.”

  “Oh.”

  She’d thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he just wanted to talk. So much for the mutual attraction she thought she’d sensed between them. Briana bit back her disappointment and slipped her hand into his outstretched one. She felt the same rush of heat fuel her body as had happened the first time their hands had touched. His fingers closed around her hand, and he smiled down at her, his eyes alight with an elusive warmth that encouraged trust.

  “Hey, babe, that was a neat trick you pulled there,” Gus said, sticking his head around the kitchen door. “Fergal will grab any excuse to get out of the clearing up.”

  Briana actually laughed. “Sorry,” she said, falling into the corner of the settee and accepting another glass of wine from Fergal. Harley came in from outside with another basket of logs and threw a couple onto the dwindling fire.

  “Tell me why you think this is more than just bad luck,” she said, once all three guys were seated around her. She glanced at Harley and quickly glanced away again. His impressive physique at such close quarters made it hard to keep her mind on the subject. That was kind of crazy given it was her livelihood under threat and that nothing mattered to her more than knocking the lodge back into shape.

  “Has to be,” Fergal replied. “Did your friend Greg call you while we were out this afternoon?”

  “Yes, but if you think—”

  “What did he want?” Gus asked.

  “Actually, he asked about you guys. Wanted to know who you were and why you were here.”

  “None of his fucking business,” Harley snarled.

  “He was only looking out for me.”

  “Sure he was,” Fergal said drolly. “Did you tell him we’d gone to collect the timber?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “You’re awfully keen to defend him,” Fergal replied, his eyes now flat and hard. “You sure there’s nothing you need to tell us about your relationship with him?”

  “Quite sure.” She folded her arms in a defensive gesture that probably made her look guilty. “Why would Greg want to see me fail?”

  “So he can ride to the rescue, put everything right, and earn your eternal gratitude,” Harley said with a cynical twist of his lips.

  “That’s stupid.”

  “His call also came in immediately after he saw us driving through Fort Peck with a truck load of timber,” Gus said, shaking his head. “Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  “Do you recognize this guy with him?” Harley asked, showing her the pictures he’d taken with his cell phone.

  Briana studied them carefully and shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. He’s half-turned away from the camera, so I can’t be sure. Should I know him?”

  “It’s probably nothing,” Harley replied, taking his phone back.

  “Greg wants you back,” Fergal said, picking up a strand of her hair and winding it casually around his finger. She was about to snatch it back when his knuckled brushed against her neck. She gasped, unable to believe the raw need that coursed through her at such an innocent connection. “Seems to me he’ll go to just about any lengths to get you, as well. Not that I blame him, but I don’t like the way he’s going about it. He ought to be a man and do things right.”

  “You’re wrong about him. He’s harmless.”

  “He also has a powerful father and an influential job,” Fergal pointed out.

  “Who would profit if you failed?” Gus asked.

  “No one. I guess the people who want to buy the lodge will—”

  “Someone wants to buy it?” three voices asked together.

  “And you didn’t think that was relevant?” Fergal added alone.

  “Hey, cut me some slack!” She pushed her hands in front of her, palms outward, as though warding off an attack. “It was a while back and I’d forgotten all about it. Gran got a couple of offers from a guy based in Denver. She turned them down and he went away. Then, after Gran died, he approached me with a pretty reasonable offer, but—”

  “But you turned him down, too,” Fergal finished for her. “Who was he and what did he want the place for?”

  “Some businessman who wanted a place to get away from it all.”

  “It’s not exactly a little lakeside cabin he could use for
a weekend retreat,” Gus pointed out, his gaze encompassing the huge room.

  “Well, what can I say? People with money have different standards, I guess.”

  “What was his reaction when you turned him down?” Harley asked.

  “He was fine about it. I didn’t speak with him direct, of course. I dealt with his real estate broker, who said his client had other properties in mind, thanked me for my time, and that was that. It was all so amiable that I’d forgotten about it.”

  “Do you have his name?” Gus asked. “Any details?”

  “Yes, I’ll find them for you. They’re still around somewhere, because the broker said if I ever changed my mind, to get back in touch. Not that I will, but you know.”

  “We do.” She noticed Fergal share a speaking glance with his buddies. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about your lost workforce. We’ll do the roof for you.”

  She sat bolt upright, pulling her hair out of Fergal’s hand. “You! I can’t ask you to do that. Besides…well, do you even know how? It’s skilled work.”

  “We’re highly trained professionals,” Gus said, winking at her. “We can do anything we set our minds to.”

  “And you don’t have to pay us, so the IRS won’t get involved,” Fergal added.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Fergal leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Our pleasure.”

  “You guys are a little intimidating, if you don’t mind my saying so. Seems there’s nothing you can’t do.”

  “Honey, you have no idea,” Harley said, leaning in from her other side and also kissing the top of her head.

  “Hey, that ain’t fair,” Gus protested from his position on the floor. “When do I get to have a kiss?”

  Briana laughed, feeling light-headed and emotionally overloaded. This wasn’t happening. She’d wake up soon and be back to reality. No way could these three hunks be fighting over her.

  “What can I do for you guys in return?” she asked. “There must be something you want.”

  * * * *

  Fergal shared another look with his buddies, and they both nodded imperceptibly. They would know what he was thinking, mainly because they’d be thinking it, too, and had just given him the green light. Even so, he could see they were surprised that he’d allowed this assignment to get so personal this fast. Hell, he was surprised. He had no idea what madness drew him toward Briana, but something stronger than his own will was making him act out of character. This time the line between business and pleasure would be crossed, if she’d allow it.