Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection

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Ménage in Manhattan: The Complete 5-Book Ménage Romance Collection Page 77

by Tara Crescent


  Though I’m still angry about the way they’d left, I can’t deny that I’m grateful for their help yesterday. Without their presence at the meeting, Thorne would have almost certainly succeeded in stopping my project.

  No one should be alone for Thanksgiving, yet that’s exactly how Hudson and Asher will be spending the day. Pizza and football, Asher had said. And time to catch up on work.

  As I look around the restaurant, packed with my friends, I feel a prickle of guilt. I could have invited them here. There’s certainly no shortage of food.

  After dinner, Piper drifts toward me. “Where’s Aaron?” she asks me. “How come he’s not here?”

  Since I promised Miki I’d spread the word, I tell Piper the truth. When I’m done, she gapes at me. “Why didn’t she say anything?”

  So much has happened in the last few months. Bailey broke up with the asshole she was dating and started seeing Daniel and Sebastian. Gabby reunited with Dominic and Carter, the two men she’d had a one-night stand with, and the three of them decided to make a go of it. They’re even helping raise Noah, Carter’s young nephew. Most recently, Piper’s two investors, Owen and Wyatt fell in love with her. The last few months have transformed our little group into one large, happy family.

  I don’t blame Miki for keeping her marriage troubles to herself. As silly as it sounds, when all your friends are happy, you don’t want to bring them down. “You know Miki. She doesn’t really say much at the best of times.”

  “She’s not the only one,” Piper states. “I haven’t seen much of you either. What’s going on?”

  I avoid looking at her. “Work,” I say vaguely. “You know how it is.”

  I’m lying. I’ve been using the Staten Island project as a way to avoid the Thursday Night Drinking Pack. If my friends notice I’m not drinking, they’ll guess why in a heartbeat.

  It shouldn’t be this hard to tell them about the upheaval in my life. They’re the most supportive group of women I’ve ever met. But the words lodge in my throat. I haven’t told anyone about the baby. Not even my mother.

  Piper’s boyfriend Wyatt walks up to us carrying a couple of flutes of champagne. “Ladies,” he says gallantly. “You need drinks.”

  Piper gives him a dazzling smile as she takes the offered glass. I hesitate for an instant before reaching for the champagne, and Piper looks exasperated. “Aren’t the two of you friends yet?”

  That’s what she thinks this is about? Early in Piper’s relationship with Wyatt and Owen, I’d warned them against breaking my friend’s heart, but my caution was misplaced. Wyatt and Owen adore Piper, and they treat her like a queen.

  “Of course we are.” I grin at Wyatt, punching him lightly on his arm. “Unless you hurt Piper…”

  “At which point you’ll chop my balls off and use them in a stir-fry,” Wyatt quips. “Don’t worry,” he says, winking at my blushing friend. “I take very good care of Piper.”

  I pretend to chuckle. Piper’s obvious happiness is making me wistful. If Piper were to tell Wyatt and Owen she was pregnant, they’d be overjoyed. Asher and Hudson? I have no idea what their reaction is going to be.

  Just then, Owen raises his glass in a toast. “It’s time for thanks,” he says to the crowded room. “And I have many things to be thankful for. Let’s drink. To laughter, to love, and happily ever after.”

  Everyone takes a sip of their champagne. I lift the glass to my lips, trying to figure out a plan to dump the beverage when Piper catches sight of me. Her gaze sharpens, and her mouth falls open. “Excuse us,” she tells Wyatt, grabbing me by my wrist and dragging me through the kitchen doors. “You’re not drinking,” she accuses me once we’re alone. “What’s going on?”

  I take a deep breath and set my champagne glass down on the spotless stainless-steel kitchen counter. I’m somewhat relieved that Piper’s guessed my secret. Perhaps if I tell her, it’ll give me the practice I need to tell Asher and Hudson. “Almost two months ago, the day before my birthday, I decided to have a one-night stand with two men. I thought it was just one night, no strings attached. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Piper waits for me to continue. I force the words out through my dry throat. “Except the condom failed. I was in a ménage, and there were two of them, and now I’m pregnant. And I don’t know which one of them is the father.”

  My friend stares at me, shock written clearly on her face. “I’m going to be a mother,” I whisper. “And Piper, I’m terrified.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Miki’s voice slices through the quiet. She’s standing in the doorway. “I didn’t mean to overhear,” she adds apologetically. “I came to find Piper to tell her I was leaving.”

  I smile weakly at her. “I was going to tell everyone anyway. Piper just happened to guess. How much did you hear?”

  She gives me a careful look. “Ménage. Pregnant.”

  “I’d say that about sums up the pertinent facts.”

  Piper finds her tongue. “Do you know them? The guys you slept with?”

  “Yeah. It’s Asher and Hudson.”

  Awareness dawns on Piper’s face. Miki, who already knows about my relationship with them, looks unsurprised. “Are you happy about the baby? You said you were terrified.”

  “I am terrified,” I admit. “I’m also thrilled about the little monkey.”

  Piper’s face softens, and she pulls me into her arms. “I’m so happy for you, Wendy,” she says, choking up a little. “You’re going to be a great mom. And your little monkey will have five adoring aunts who are going to spoil him or her rotten.”

  Miki asks the question I’m dreading. “How did Hudson and Asher react to your news?”

  I flush. “I haven’t told them,” I confess. “I don’t even know which one of them is the father. What if they hate me?”

  “You need to tell them, Wendy,” Piper says gently. “They’re going to want to know, and it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Will they want to know?” My voice is bitter. “They quit my project. They’re seeing some other woman now. I don’t think they’re going to care, to be honest.”

  Miki flushes. “I have a confession to make,” she admits. “They only walked away because Thorne blackmailed Asher.”

  Piper and I gape at her. “What are you talking about?” I finally ask my friend.

  Miki sighs. “Asher called me,” she says. “Thorne had pictures of the three of you making out in your office. He threatened to make them public if Asher and Hudson didn’t stop working with you.”

  Shock courses through me. That’s why they walked away? Then I remember the woman they left with and my heart sinks again. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” I mumble. “They’re seeing someone.”

  “Who?” Piper asks.

  “I don’t know. I think her name was Nadia.”

  Miki pulls up something on her phone. “This woman?” she asks, showing me the screen. “Nadja Breton? She’s an architect at Hudson’s firm. I’m pretty sure she’s married.” She puts her arm around my shoulder. “I don’t think Asher and Hudson wanted to leave, Wendy,” she says quietly. “They did it to protect you.”

  “I think you should talk to them,” Piper says.

  I’m completely confused. First, they walk away, then they reappear at the board meeting, and now I find out they’ve been on my side the entire time? I don’t know what to do.

  In my heart, I feel the truth. I can trust Asher and Hudson.

  It’s only eight. With any luck, they haven’t eaten. “Piper, can you pack me some leftovers?” I ask my friend. “They were planning on eating pizza for dinner. Somebody should stop that.”

  A wide smile breaks out on her face. Piper’s such a romantic. “Somebody like you, you mean?” she teases. “Sure. I’ll get you some food.”

  Once Piper leaves, Miki gives me a serious look. “I want you to be happy,” she says. “But I also want you to be careful.”

  I’m always careful. My mother’s wariness of men has rubbed off
on me. My instincts tell me it’s time to be brave.

  25

  Asher

  Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you.

  Walt Whitman

  Levi’s been living at my place for the last two months. He’s been to hundreds of job interviews, but he’s yet to find an employer that’s prepared to take a chance on him. He’s been doing odd construction jobs here and there for money. As for me, while I’d prefer having my place to myself, Patrick Sullivan’s warning reminds me that there’s far more at stake than my privacy.

  “Do you have Thanksgiving plans?” I ask Levi on Thursday morning. “I’m heading over to Hudson’s place to watch football if you’d like to join us.”

  He makes a face. “Hudson’s the architect, right? No thanks. Your billionaire friend doesn’t approve of me. I’m heading to Lloyd’s mother’s house.”

  “Lloyd Beecham? Are you hanging out with him now?”

  He shrugs. “It’s just a meal, buddy. His mom makes the most amazing pecan pie you’ve ever tasted. Stop worrying about me. I’m on the straight and narrow.”

  I wish I could believe Levi’s assurances, but I don’t. Levi’s gone two months without finding a decent job. Soon enough, Beecham’s going to dangle one in front of him, and he’s going to take the bait.

  “Are you sure?” I try again. “The Lions are competitive this year. It’ll be a good game this afternoon.”

  “Ash, I’ve been dreaming about Lori’s pecan pie for weeks, not to mention the turkey and all the trimmings. What are you two going to eat? Pizza? Thanks. I’ll pass.”

  I don’t blame Levi. Thanksgiving is a time for family, friends, and feasting. Why would Levi trade that for hanging out with Hudson and me? “Have fun,” I tell him.

  An evening spent watching football has never felt as unappealing as it does right now.

  There’s tension between Hudson and me, but that doesn’t stop us from hanging out, drinking beer and watching football. Our friendship goes back too far for us to stay mad at each other. We’re watching the Lions defensive line crumble against the Packers offense when there’s a knock on the door. “Expecting company?” I ask my friend, who shakes his head and gets up to see who it is.

  It’s Wendy. Her hands are laden with bags, and her cheeks are pink with cold. “I just had a very interesting talk with Miki,” she says. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll trade you a Thanksgiving meal made by two of New York’s finest chefs in exchange for some answers.”

  My heart does a funny pitter-patter in my chest as she marches into Hudson’s living room. I can’t believe she’s here. After everything we’ve done.

  “What are you talking about?” Hudson asks carefully. He gets her coat and tosses it on the couch.

  She rolls her eyes. “Please,” she scoffs. “Miki is my friend. You had to know she’d tell me about the photos eventually.”

  To be honest, I’m surprised Wendy’s friend has kept silent as long as she has. I thought she’d have told Wendy the whole story weeks ago. I wonder what’s changed now.

  I clear my throat. “Sit,” I tell her. “You look like you’re freezing.”

  She sinks down on the couch in front of the fireplace with a look of pleasure, which vanishes when she turns toward me. “The truth, Asher, or I walk. And I take the food with me.”

  I reach a decision. Hell, I made my choice yesterday, when I showed up at the board meeting. Wendy deserves to succeed, and I can’t let a fear of what Thorne might do rule our lives forever. I won’t cower before Hancock. “Okay,” I respond, “I’ll tell you everything.”

  I gaze into the flames. “When I graduated from law school, I had my pick of offers, but like you, I wanted to make a difference.”

  Wendy’s listening with rapt attention. “You already know I grew up in a bunch of foster homes,” I continue. “When I was sixteen, I was arrested and almost sent to jail.”

  I’m a little concerned about her reaction when she learns the truth about my past, but I have nothing to be worried about. Her eyes never leave my face. “What happened?”

  Hudson snorts from his spot on the couch. “Levi fucking Engels happened,” he growls. “His buddy beat his ex’s boyfriend to a pulp. Asher was arrested because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “It’s not quite as simple,” I tell Wendy. “Anyway, Levi and I were arrested for assault, but I got lucky. I was a minor, and the district attorney decided not to prosecute me. He mentored me, made sure I got a high school diploma and he helped me with college applications. Naturally, I wanted to emulate him. I became a district attorney too. Then Lauren happened.”

  I draw a deep breath. “This is going to be difficult to hear,” I warn her. “Thorne is your half-brother; Paul Hancock is your father. Are you sure you want to learn the truth?”

  She nods. “Blood doesn’t make family, Asher,” she says quietly. “I grew up learning that lesson. Paul Hancock was never my father. My mother raised me. She’s the only family that matters to me.”

  “My first case concerned a young woman called Lauren Bainbridge. Thorne Hancock plied her with alcohol at a fraternity party and raped her. We had DNA evidence. I thought we’d have no trouble convicting him.”

  A look of comprehension flashes on her face. “That night at Residence,” she whispers. “When I had too much champagne. That’s why you sent me home?”

  “Partly,” I reply, tracing the contours of her cheek with my finger. As I touch her, goosebumps rise on her skin. “Though I don’t need to get women drunk to get them in my bed.”

  Her breathing quickens. Then she shakes her head and seems to gather herself. “The rest of the story,” she says firmly. “That’s the deal.”

  “Thorne started a whisper campaign to discredit Lauren. Ex-boyfriends came out of the woodwork, accusing her of being a sex-hungry nymphomaniac. Photos of her drinking and dancing at parties were circulated on the campus. Thorne couldn’t deny he’d slept with her; the DNA evidence would make a liar of him. But he could ruin her credibility.”

  The flames flicker and dance; heat washes through the room in waves, but it doesn’t warm the cold in me as I relive the past. “Lauren couldn’t take it. She dropped out of school and spiraled into a deep depression. Three years later, she committed suicide.”

  “Oh, Asher.” Wendy’s eyes are filled with understanding. She moves next to me and puts her arms around my shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

  For ten years, ice has shrouded my heart, but when Wendy nestles next to me, I feel it crack. “I was in love with Lauren,” I admit. “It was one-sided and futile, but I couldn’t change the way I felt.”

  “That’s why you switched to corporate law?”

  “Yes. Thorne showed me that money matters more than the truth.”

  The expression on her face shows that she understands far more than I’m ready to reveal. “You chose a field where you didn’t have to watch people suffer,” she says quietly. “And you thought that if you walked away from Staten Island, I wouldn’t get hurt.”

  “I didn’t want your name in the tabloids.”

  “And yesterday?” she asks. “Why did you change your mind?”

  “I thought about you facing the board alone, and I couldn’t do it.” I lace my fingers in hers. “I thought it was enough to keep you safe, but I realized that safe isn’t the only thing that counts. You want this project to succeed; you want to protect the people that work at Hancock from Thorne’s irresponsible gambles. And that matters too.”

  “What about Nadja?” Wendy sounds tentative. “Are you dating her?”

  “That was my idea,” Hudson replies, looking shamefaced. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have done it, but I thought that if you believed we were seeing someone else, it would be a cleaner break. We’ve never dated Nadja; she works for me. For the record, she thought it was a stupid idea.”

  “It was,” Wendy agrees. “Are you guys hungry?”

  I exchange a look
with Hudson. I can’t read Wendy’s reaction, but the fact that she’s still here gives me hope. “I’m starving,” I reply, getting to my feet and making my way to the kitchen for plates and forks.

  Hudson follows me and reaches for a bottle of a Cabernet Sauvignon from the rack. “Wendy, would you prefer beer?” he asks her.

  A look of hesitation crosses over her face. “Umm, could I have a cup of tea instead?” she asks. “I’m still a little cold.”

  The fireplace is radiating heat. I shoot her a concerned look. “Are you coming down with something? It’s a furnace in here.”

  She looks uncomfortable. “I’m fine, really,” she mutters. “I’m cold, not sick.”

  I fill the kettle with water and plug it in. Once the tea is ready, we make our way to the table, and Hudson and I dig into the food. Wendy sips on her tea in silence. Something’s on her mind. I still don’t know what she’s thinking.

  Here’s what I do know. Wendy’s in my thoughts all the time. I need to know what she wants from us, because if it’s casual sex, I want out. I want more than that from her.

  After pie and ice cream, we migrate back to the couch and watch the game. After football, we switch to Netflix and watch Breaking Bad, but before the first episode is done, Wendy’s fast asleep, her head on my shoulder.

  Neither Hudson nor I have the heart to wake her. We watch episode after episode in silence, but my attention isn’t on the screen. It’s on Wendy, on the warmth of her presence.

  Things feel different between us. They feel more real.

  After four episodes, Hudson turns off the TV. I tap Wendy gently on her shoulder, and she opens her eyes. As soon as she figures out where she is, she stiffens. “Sorry I dozed off. I’ll call a cab.”

  Hudson leans forward. “You brought us dinner,” he says intently. “Will you let us make you breakfast?”

 

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