by Zara Chase
“What? Oh yeah, babe, exactly right. What’s the betting that he turns up here later to lend you a shoulder?”
“Most likely,” she conceded with a wry smile.
He arrived when the guys had only been back at work for half an hour. Fergal heard the steady thrumping of his SUV’s engine long before they actually saw it.
“Down!” he said to his buddies. “It’s showtime.”
The three of them slid down the ladder and concealed themselves from view. This was Briana’s party, and they’d only intercede if they were needed. Greg slowed when he drove onto the property and saw the roof had been stripped. Without getting out of his car to investigate, he drove straight up to the front door, killed his engine, and finally exited the vehicle.
“Hey, Briana.”
“Greg?”
She came out of the house, wearing her plaster-splattered clothing. Fergal wasn’t close enough to see her expression but could tell from her abrupt response that she wasn’t pleased to see him.
“What brings you out here again?” she asked.
“I was worried. What happened to the roof? I thought the guys couldn’t help.”
“I found someone else.”
“Who?”
“Thanks for your concern, but it’s really none of your business.”
“Don’t be like that, honey.”
“Like what?”
“You’ve gone all secretive on me. I don’t like that.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“Attagirl!” Fergal muttered.
“You weren’t quite so coy when we had dinner together the other night.”
“What?” Fergal shared a glance with his buddies and shook his head. “I thought she didn’t have anything to do with the creep.”
“She obviously told us what we wanted to hear,” Gus replied.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, guys,” Harley said. “Dinner doesn’t mean anything.”
“How would the IRS have heard that I was hiring Ben and Joe to do the roof?” she asked. “Any ideas?”
“How do they hear anything?” Greg kicked at a loose stone. “They have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“He’s lying,” Fergal muttered. “He can’t meet her gaze.”
“Yes, but only Ben and Joe, you, and me knew about it.”
“Well then, one of them must have said something.” Greg sounded worried. “Or, more like, Seth and Maurice got to hear about it and said something at the barber shop. You know how nothing gets past them.”
“Yes, that must be it.”
“So, are you going to invite me in for some iced tea? It sure is a hot day.”
“Sorry, Greg, if you want tea you should have stayed in town. I don’t have time for socializing.”
“What’s happened to you, darlin’? You used to be glad to see me.”
“I am glad to see you, Greg. I just don’t have time to linger.”
“Come on.” He stepped forward and tried to take Briana’s arm. “You and I are an item. Always have been and always will be. Okay, so we were too young for each other right out of college, but that’s not the case anymore. Let me help you. You know I want to. I worry about you, stuck out here all alone.”
“Let me go, Greg. You’re hurting my arm.”
“Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Stay out of sight,” Fergal said to Gus as he and Harley stepped out to help her.
“Leave me be!” She shook her arm free and glowered at him.
“What’s wrong with you today?” He grabbed her arm again. “You never used to be such a cock tease.”
“Ouch!”
“The lady asked you to let her go,” Fergal said in a glacial tone.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“It’s okay,” Briana said, shaking his hand off again. “Greg was just leaving.”
“These are the jerks with the truck.” Greg nodded toward the vehicle in question, only now appearing to notice it parked alongside Briana’s car. “You told me they’d left.”
“No, you made that assumption. I just didn’t bother to put you straight.”
“You don’t need strangers hanging about, babe. You have no idea who they are or what they want from you.”
“Not your concern.”
“The hell it isn’t!”
“Just go,” she said wearily.
“Okay, but I’ll call you later.”
“Leave it, Greg. You weren’t there for me when I needed you. Now I’ve got all the help I can handle.”
Fergal wanted to applaud. Instead he and Harley adopted the stance—legs slightly apart, arms held loosely at their sides—ready to counter any move Greg might make in an effort to impress Briana. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t quite that stupid. He glanced over his shoulder at them as he made his way back to his car, frowning like he bore the entire world a grudge.
“Well,” Fergal said, watching him turn his car and drive away. “If he’s behind the sabotage, I think we just called his bluff.”
Chapter Eight
Briana indulged in a long soak in the bath, excitement ripping through her as she thought about the evening ahead of her. The kittens had sneaked in with her and were playing a game, diving in and out of the wicker laundry basket, destroying it with their sharp claws. Briana barely noticed. Instead she critically examined her naked body, noting its many flaws. Her gut wasn’t quite flat, her tits were too large, she absolutely hated her knees, and they probably didn’t realize that the freckles across her nose were replicated across her entire body. Hot properties such as them would be used to perfection, and they’d probably have a change of heart when they saw her in the raw.
“Am I really going to do this?” she asked the kittens. They continued causing mayhem with her grandmother’s old laundry basket and had no answer to give. “Fat lot of help you two are.”
They seemed deadly serious—the guys, not the kittens. Even though no mention was made until they finished work for the day, she could tell from the hungry expressions in Gus’s and Harley’s eyes that they were still very much up for it. Fergal was harder to read. Since Greg’s impromptu visit he’d been quiet and withdrawn. It seemed they were all dancing around the subject, and she grew tired of waiting for them to raise it.
“What do I have to do?” she asked when they quit work for the day, addressing the question to Fergal.
“You absolutely sure? No pressure.”
“I’m sure.”
Was she? She was again reminded that she’d never had casual sex with anyone. She thought she’d been in love with both the men she’d given herself to, which made it okay. She felt very different about these three. It obviously wasn’t possible to be in love with three people at once. Was it? All she knew was that they’d brought her staid old self to life without laying an inappropriate finger on her. They’d only be here for twenty-four hours, but it seemed like a hell of a lot longer than that and she had no intention of wasting precious time by pretending to be coy. Bring it on, guys! They didn’t need to know that her emotions were involved, which they would be. It was different for women, she reasoned. They couldn’t approach intimacy with the same detached attitude as men did.
“Go and have a nice long soak in the bath,” Harley had told her. “Gus has already run it for you. It ought to be about ready.”
“I can’t waste time soaking in the bath.” Where did they get off on telling her what to do? She wasn’t a marine under their command.
“Sure you can, honey. I’ll see to dinner, Fergal will get the fire going, and by the time you’re ready to eat, you won’t know the place.” He patted her butt. “Now scoot.”
She didn’t know the bathroom, either. Gus had left the main light off and lit candles everywhere. The fragrance of bath oil assailed her nostrils, and she already felt herself relaxing. She threw off her dirty clothes and sank into the water, groaning with pleasure as she felt the tension draining out of her.
She could do this. She
absolutely could.
Briana drifted off to sleep, until the water cooled and jolted her awake again. She climbed out the tub, let the water drain away, and dried herself with the fresh towel Gus had left out for her. She took the trouble to rub some of her favorite coconut-butter moisture lotion into her skin and used her regular products on her face. Draped in the towel, she ran across to her room and considered what to wear. The guys were making a big effort to make her feel special. She ought to return the favor.
She pulled out her one and only dress—a simple little black job, with a high neck, no sleeves, and a tight skirt that finished just above her knees. She added black stockings and shoes with four-inch heels. She brushed her hair out until it crinkled and secured it on top of her head with a clip. A dab of mascara, a slash of lip gloss, and she was good to go. She examined her reflection and nodded. That was about as good as it got.
“Wish me luck,” she said to the kittens as she made her way back to the great room.
* * * *
“What’s up, buddy?” Harley asked Fergal as they prepared the fire together.
“She wasn’t honest with us about her relationship with Greg.” Fergal curled his lip. “They had dinner together recently.”
“So what?” Gus asked from the kitchen. “She said they were friends again. Don’t mean they’re lovers.”
“If they were, she wouldn’t play with us,” Harley said. “She’s not the type.”
“Still, she lied.”
Harley shook his head. “Lighten up and give her a break. I know how you feel about that sort of shit, but I don’t think she did actually lie.”
“There’s an easy enough way to find out,” Gus said. “Ask her and clear the air. Then perhaps we can get down to the main event.”
Harley sensed a presence behind them, straightened up, and whistled. “Hey, where’s Briana?”
Fergal followed the direction of Harley’s gaze and did a double take. He’d always known she would scrub up well, just not quite this well. Those legs, encased in thin nylon, went on forever. The dress was classy and sexy at the same time, showcasing her fabulous tits. Fergal’s fingers itched to caress them but, damn it, she’d lied! Her expression of studied nonchalance didn’t fool him. She was nervous, cared about what they thought of her, and was trying hard not to show it. Was she also playing them, though? That was the question that plagued him.
“You look sensational.” Fergal wanted to remain detached but still took her hand, turned it over, and applied his lips to the pulse point inside her wrist.
“I feel overdressed,” she said.
“That we can do something about,” Gus assured her, winking.
“Come and have a drink.”
Harley handed her one of her grandmother’s delicate champagne flutes filled with fizzy pink wine and a half strawberry. The three of them picked up their own glasses, and they clinked.
“To pleasure,” Gus said.
“Pleasure,” they agreed, taking sips.
“Hmm, lovely, it’s ages since I had champagne,” she said, sneezing when the bubbles went up her nose. “I didn’t have you guys pegged as the champagne type.”
“When the occasion calls for it,” Gus said. “We’re pretty adaptable.”
Fergal hadn’t said a word since greeting her, and he could see his attitude was confusing her almost as much as it confused him. It shouldn’t matter that she wasn’t being straight with them. Everyone had stuff they didn’t choose to share. Even so, he couldn’t shake the incident with Greg from his head. He hadn’t known Fergal and his buddies were within earshot when he spoke to Briana, his words making it pretty clear that he thought they were an item. Was Briana using the three of them to keep Greg on his toes? She didn’t seem the type to play those sorts of games, but Fergal knew better than most that women were capable of all sorts of duplicity.
Gus and Harley flirted with her outrageously, but Fergal couldn’t bring himself to join in. Briana sent him frequent sideways glances that implied his attitude was casting a blight upon the proceedings. He wasn’t being fair to his buddies, or to her. He told himself repeatedly that Briana was just a fling—one in a long line that the three of them had enjoyed and then forgotten about. There was nothing different about her, and if she chose to cheat on her nearest and dearest, so what?
But she was different, that was the problem. Fergal couldn’t have said why. All he knew was the thought of her with that slimeball Greg made his gut lurch. Not that Fergal was falling for her, or anything dorky like that. He never made the same mistake twice, but was prepared to go that extra mile for Briana, even if she didn’t deserve it.
She laughed aloud at something Gus said to her, throwing her head back, causing her hair to glance across Fergal’s shoulder. He leapt to his feet, the walls of the great room suddenly seeming to close in on him. He needed to get his head straight, and he’d never manage it with her so temptingly close, looking so alluring, so damned sexy…Shit, what was wrong with him?
“I’ll just be a moment,” he said.
Fergal slipped out the front door and leaned against the wall, breathing hard, waiting for common sense to kick in. The cool night air peppered his heated skin as, protected from the elements by the wrap-around porch, he welcomed the opportunity to get his head together. He told himself to accept the way things were without analyzing them to death, wondering why he was letting Briana’s behavior get to him. Now he remembered why he never mixed business with pleasure. Not that he’d been remotely tempted in the past, but then he’d never met anyone quite like Briana before.
But she’d lied…she’d lied.
So what, said a little voice inside his head. Everyone lied at some time or another, and she probably thought her private life was none of his damned business. Except that it was, because she’d agreed to get involved with the three of them. Shit, he didn’t need these relationship complications. He ought to walk away right now, while he still could.
Too late for that.
Fergal glanced up at the sky. The stars were putting on quite a show tonight, and he could clearly make out several of the constellations. That was something city dwellers never got to appreciate because there was too much artificial light in built-up areas. He sniffed the air, sensing that the good weather would soon break. He could smell rain brewing—perhaps a storm—which would match his mood perfectly. He kicked at the wall, moody and unsettled, unsure why he felt so mad at Briana.
* * * *
No one spoke for a while after Fergal went outside. Only the crackling of logs in the grate and Max’s gentle snores broke the tense silence. Briana didn’t know what had gotten into Fergal, but figured it was probably something she’d done.
“More champagne, honey?” Harley asked.
She shook her head. Champagne was for celebrations, and this no longer felt like a celebratory situation.
“I’d best check up on dinner,” Gus said, heading for the kitchen.
“What’s wrong with Fergal?” Briana asked Harley. “Is it something I did?”
“No, it’s not you.” He focused eyes brimming with intelligence on her face. “Fergal has a lot on his mind.”
“Don’t we all, but…well, if he’s had a change of heart about…you know.” She inverted her chin. “I know he thinks he’s God’s gift but, trust me, I’ll get over him.”
Harley chuckled. “That’s good to know.”
“Dinner will be five minutes,” Gus called.
“Go and get Fergal, babe,” Harley said. “I’ll open some wine.”
Briana wasn’t sure she wanted to get Fergal. As far as she was concerned, he could stay outside all night and freeze his ass off. Sulking was an ugly trait, and she had no intention of pandering to him, or trying to talk him around. Still, someone had to do something about him, and Harley has assigned the task to her.
“All right,” she said. “Max needs to go out anyway.” At the sound of his name, the dog stirred from his position in front of the fire an
d trotted toward the door. “But if he’s still pouting, I warn you, I’ll be right back without him.”
Harley laughed. “That I’d pay good money to see.”
She opened the door and found Fergal leaning against the outside wall of the house, one foot bent up behind him, his expression remote, forbidding. He glanced up when he heard the door open but said nothing. Max, oblivious to the strained atmosphere, dashed past them both and attended to his business.
“Okay,” she said patiently. “What’s wrong?”
“You lied to me.”
“Pardon?” Whatever she’d expected him to say, that certainly wasn’t it.
“You said Greg was nothing to you.”
“He isn’t.”
“You had dinner with him.”
Briana placed her hands on her hips and scowled up at the angry Adonis holding up her wall, totally unable to understand his anger. “So, that doesn’t mean we’re joined at the hip.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment but the condemnation in his eye made her stomach curdle. It also ignited her anger. What right did he have to question her personal life, especially when she knew absolutely nothing about his and didn’t attempt to pry?
“Where the hell do you get off, casting moral judgment on my life choices?”
“Ah, so you admit it. The two of you are involved.”
“Thank you very much!” Briana was fit to explode with anger. “You think I’d be in a relationship with one man and yet be willing to enter into another with all three of you at once?” She tossed her head and paced the length of the wooden verandah, too angry to remain still. “Well, I guess that tells me all I need to know about your impression of me.”