Coming Clean

by Inez Kelley

  Cade’s familiar tease always got the same response. Vivi laughed and pecked him on the cheek. She headed toward the house, smiling at Grant over her shoulder. “You couldn’t handle me, Cade.”

  “Probably not, but man, what a way to go,” Cade called as she disappeared inside, then he turned to Grant. A secret glinted in his eyes. “Be right back, forgot something in the truck.”

  In less than a minute, he returned carrying a large box wrapped in floral paper. A smaller pink one balanced on top.

  “What the hell are those?” Grant asked.

  “What’s it look like, smartass? It’s Viv’s birthday presents.”

  Grant snorted. “Her birthday’s not for five days. Why don’t you bring them up to the lake?”

  The boxes hit the empty chair with a heavy thump. “I doubt she’ll want these up there where they could draw dampness.”

  “What’d you get her?” Grant shook the smaller box.

  “Hey!” Cade snatched it away. “The card says Viv, not Mr. and Mrs. Michaelson.”

  “Another man is giving my wife presents, and you don’t think I have a right to know what they are?”

  “Nope,” Cade shot back with a smirk, dropping his body into a chair. “If it were any other guy, I’d have your back, but this is me. I don’t count in the ‘other man’ category.”

  Oh, I don’t know about that. Grant turned the fire down low and sank into an Adirondack chair beside Cade, settling his long legs straight out. His bare foot knocked into Cade’s steel-toed boot, and awareness slammed into him. If things went as he planned, more than feet would be knocking together. “I still want to know.”

  “You were nosy as a kid and you’re still nosy.”

  The sparkle in Cade’s blue eyes grew, the secret brimming, longing to escape. He leaned close with a conspirator’s whisper. Hot breath washed over Grant’s ear, and his blood roared, muffling the soft words. His eyes raked down the hard muscles in Cade’s arm, and a thick want formed deep in his gut.

  Closing his eyes, he slowly sucked in the nearness, the sweet cut-wood scent flooding his senses. He was straight, damn it, straight as a carpenter’s level. He’d never been attracted to another guy, never contemplated even walking into the bi-ballpark, let alone going to bat or running the bases. So why did his palm itch to cup Cade’s neck and draw him closer?

  Tiny bits of sawdust clung to Cade’s skin, drifting away from his golden hair like pollen in the breeze. His stubborn jaw thrust out a bit too squarely for magazine good looks but it screamed deliberate, in control and stone-solid. Cade’s broad cheekbones hinted at his Nordic ancestry and had made more than one woman sigh in jealousy. Grant could recall when those cheeks and jaw had never seen a razor. His balls tightened in his jeans and he shifted, angling things into invisibility.

  “So what do you think?”

  Grant blinked at the question, aware he’d not heard a single word Cade had said. “She’ll love it,” he lied.

  “I think so. I hope so anyway.” Cade settled back into his chair. “What’d you get her?”

  Grant shrugged. “Spa certificate, smelly candle thing she wanted and a bracelet she picked out.” Cade gaped at him as if he’d announced he bought her a dead lizard. “What? I learned a long time ago to just pay for whatever she wants. She’s happy and I don’t end up sleeping on the couch.”

  “You’re an insult to husbands everywhere, know that?”

  “Hey, I’m like husband-of-the-year here. I didn’t gripe once when her mother visited for a month.”

  Cade shook his head. “Explain to me how come you do shit like that and are still married, and I bent over backward and ended up divorced?”

  Arrogance and bravado curled Grant’s lip. “Talent—and I’m better in bed.”

  Silence hung for a beat. His gaze fell to Cade’s tongue slowly dragging over his bottom lip, carefully buried hunger in his eyes. He’d been ignoring those looks for over twenty years. He didn’t want to ignore them anymore.

  Cade jerked his eyes away and examined his knuckle. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know so I’ll take your word for it.”

  It was the perfect opening but Grant couldn’t speak, couldn’t begin to ask the question that burned his tongue. Hey, Cade, want to have a threesome with me and Vivi?

  Vivi’s Reservations

  A whispered glide split the evening air as Vivi opened the patio door and walked into the yard. She balanced a tray with steaming bowls, plastic chilled dishes and a basket of flatware. The small cooler handle bit into her fingers. “A little help here, someone?”

  Cade popped out of his seat and took the overloaded tray. His brows arched high. “You made cornbread? Grant hates cornbread.”

  “I made it for you, silly.”

  The corners of his mouth curved into a blinding grin and a softness crinkled his eyes. Vivi went back into the kitchen before he could see the regret on her face, regret that such a simple kindness meant so much to him. Cade’s rocky marriage had ended so bitterly that the smallest consideration touched him. She grabbed the corn and bit her tongue, wishing she could wring Shelly Miller-Lorens’s scrawny chicken neck for hurting him.

  If a little pan of cornbread made him smile, then what was the harm?

  Vivi didn’t feel guilty for including Cade in her attentions. Grant was her husband but he of all men would understand. The men were almost a package deal. Hadn’t she joked before their wedding she might as well change her name to Michaelson-Lorens? She got a two-for-one deal when she fell in love with Grant…in every aspect but the bedroom.

  But that was going to change.

  The boxes in the chair stopped her cold. “What’s that?”

  “Cade’s determined to give you your birthday presents early.” Grant filled a platter with glistening ribs and slid it to the center of the table.

  “After dinner,” Cade admonished, his stomach grumbling loudly.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” Vivi wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. Selfishly, she sucked in a breath, dragging the scent of fresh lumber and Cade deep into her soul. God, she loved the smell. His rough hands stroked her spine with no reservation, no self-consciousness. Their years as dance partners created a comfortable closeness that other friends would find too personal.

  “Vivi, you cooked enough for a dozen people.” Grant plopped a full rack of ribs on his plate, sauce dripping to the table.

  She stepped from Cade’s arms and took her place between them at the table. “No, I cooked enough for leftovers tomorrow night. I don’t want to have to worry about feeding you two the minute we get to the cabin. Call it selfishness.”

  “I call it Southern Victuals heaven,” Cade moaned around a mouthful of cornbread.

  “Yeah, but you’re easy,” Grant teased.

  Cade stopped chewing. A shrug worked his shoulders. “Yeah, so what? I’m bi and easy. You’re straight and obnoxious.”

  “You both better be hungry and eat,” Vivi scolded with a laugh. “I didn’t spend all day smoking the meat and cooking to have this go to waste.”

  “Yes, dear.” Cade grinned, filling his plate high with potatoes.

  “Attention please.” Grant picked up his bottle and held it high. “I officially shut the cell phone off and am ‘out of town’ to GM Construction. The annual Michaelson-Lorens Lakeside Retreat has officially begun.”

  “Here, here!” Cade chimed, tapping his beer to Grant’s. “Maplewoods Sawmill can burn to the ground. I don’t care. I’m on vacation.”

  Vivi joined in, knocking her bottle to theirs. “And let those teenyboppers rot their minds with soulless pop music. This tutor is unavailable for ten glorious days.”

  She locked her eyes with Grant’s and a decade of silent marital communications came into play. She quirked one eyebrow, and he nodded before taking a deep pull of his beer. He was going to bring the idea up. Soon. When he found an opening. She brought her bottle to her lips to hide her smile. Maybe she could help him find that openin
g.

  Dinner was lively and brisk, conversation never lagging, macho bantering in fine form. Empty beer bottles lined the table and the pile of cleaned bones and corncobs grew to an amazing height. Vivi leaned back and closed her eyes, savoring the sounds of dual baritones. The conversation was low, nearly seductive to her ears. The cadence mimicked sultry whispers in the dark even though the words were mundane, regarding jobs and news stories. An image of lounging on twisted sheets in Grant’s embrace, sated and damp with spent passion, swirled through her mind. A flash of golden hair intruded and she drew a deep bracing breath.

  Soon. An aching tingle formed deep in her pussy and she shifted, crossing her legs and pressing her thighs together.

  “So it didn’t work out?” Grant’s low question pulled her from physical aches.

  “Nah. I mean, yeah, she’s hot but once she opened her mouth, I started looking at fire exits to escape.”

  “That bad?”

  “Think sophomore year, Mrs. Kinaki on helium.” Cade shuddered exaggeratedly. “The sex could’ve been decent but then I’d have to talk to her.”

  Grant leaned closer with a not-so-quiet whisper and a pure masculine leer. “Could’a put her mouth to better use than talking.”

  “Thought about it.” Cade smirked. “But she was too clingy. Men are easier. Just screw and be done with it. Women are too much work.”

  “Hey!” Vivi swatted him on the knee.

  Cade dropped his mouth open. “Grant, your wife just hit me!”

  “Kimmy said you like that kind of stuff.” Vivi wrinkled her nose at him.

  Cade angled his head and gave her a wolfish grin. “Kimmy is dreaming, and I only like it when I’m the one doing the spanking, sweetheart.”

  The temptation was too great. So much time had been devoted to thinking of Cade naked that her body simply took over. Vivi leaned close and ran her fingers through his hair. “Poor Cadey-Wadey can’t handle a strong woman in bed?”

  “Think you could handle me, sweetheart?” The challenge was husky, deeper than sin and framed in a dare. Their joking was always sexual in nature, but tonight seemed different. A new excitement sizzled under the surface. Vivi feathered her fingers through the back of his thick hair. She wondered if Cade knew it, could feel the stinging fire of possibility dancing on his skin.

  She had absolutely no doubt Cade would join them in their bed if asked. She wasn’t egotistical enough to think he would violate his friendship just for her. His love for Grant was the biggest lure. It was also what kept him from ever acting on his own. It was what prevented her from ever straying as well. Grant was their commonality, their tethering post, what drew them together.

  Cade’s bright blue eyes darkened in lust, and his chest rose with a slow breath before he pulled away from her touch. She cast Grant a teasing wink then stood, straddled Cade’s thighs and lowered herself to his lap. Looping her arms around his neck, she circled her hips in a slow grind. “Oh, I could handle you and more, Mr. Lorens. Think you’re up to the task?”

  Her position placed her bust line directly in Cade’s sight. She didn’t miss the effort it took for him to turn his eyes away.

  He quickly averted his face, a dark blush coloring his cheeks, and looked desperately at Grant. “Help.”

  “Oh no, you’re on your own there.” Grant crossed his arms with a grin. “No way in hell am I telling her to behave. I’d like to get laid again sometime this century.”

  Cade’s hands dropped to her waist, gently pushing her away, but Vivi didn’t budge. This could be a prime opportunity for Grant if he wanted to bring up the idea of a threesome now. Grant stayed silent. She ground her hips, pressing into Cade’s zipper, and felt him get hard. The knowledge rushed a heated moisture to her pussy.

  She knew exactly how Cade would be in bed. No matter how much she begged, Grant would never dance with her. Saying he had two left feet would be a compliment. He had less rhythm than a tone-deaf mute. But Cade? Oh, Cade danced like heaven, and she’d missed being in his arms.

  His mother had introduced Vivi to Cade, set them up together as ballroom dancing partners. Not even after Vivi had hooked up with his best friend had they stopped dancing. Something had brewed between them during those years, something neither of them verbally acknowledged but was there in the looks half-hidden under desire-heavy lids, in the catch of an almost-too-intimate embrace, the slow press of moving hips. Every single time, Cade would drive her home and leave with a hard-on. She would strip her soaked panties off and fuck Grant’s brains out.

  It actually became a little joke between them. Grant would raise his arrogant brow and ask if she and Cade were going out for foreplay that night. If Cade hadn’t married that bitch, Shelly, they’d still be dancing. But she’d whined and he’d caved to make her happy, as he always did when it came to Shelly. Maybe it was inappropriate to be happy when a marriage broke up, and Cade had definitely been hurt, but he was far too good for that skanky whore.

  Cade’s fingers tightened and his voice husked a shade too low. “Hey Viv, why don’t you, uh, get up and open your presents?”

  “Let’s clear this stuff away first before it gets dark.” Grant grabbed the rib platter and headed inside. Vivi frowned at his back. She climbed from Cade’s lap, gathered up the dirty plates and followed him.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She cocked one eyebrow and waited. Grant released a slow breath. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring it up.”

  “Then don’t. Let’s forget it.”

  “I can’t and I don’t want to. It’s just…Vivi, I can’t say this stuff in front of you, all right? It’s just not something a guy does when his wife is around. Maybe I’ll mention it while we’re fishing.”

  “I can understand that, man to man or whatever. If it comes up, and you’re okay with it, go for it. Just be sure you are okay with it.”

  “I am, and that’s what bugs me.” Grant pulled the foil from the drawer and sighed. “Shouldn’t I not be okay with it? I mean, isn’t a man who loves his wife supposed to get all caveman shitty if he sees her grinding on another guy? I didn’t. Is that weird?”

  Vivi snapped the lids on tight and shoved the bowls in the fridge before facing him. “If I’d sat on Mark or Steve’s lap, would you hav—” The angry flush that burst onto his cheeks and his sudden white-knuckled fists brought her smile. “See? It’s not me flirting with another man that you’re okay with. It’s me flirting with Cade.”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t jealous. In fact—” Grant pulled her close and nuzzled her neck, “—I was kind of turned on watching him react.”

  Vivi jerked away. “Him? Or me?”

  “Both.” Grant reached for her as Cade stepped into the kitchen carrying more empty bowls and crumpled napkins. Vivi shimmied away and opened the fridge door, hiding her face as chilled dread slicked down her spine.

  She loved Grant and he loved her. But he also loved Cade. Her fantasy was more than selfish pleasure, it was meant to open the door to an opportunity that Grant had never taken. What if he crossed that line and suddenly felt differently about her? What if Cade replaced her in Grant’s bed and his heart? She could lose them both in one swoop, to each other.

  She loaded the dishwasher, watching through the glass door as the men cleaned up outside. She couldn’t lose Grant, not over something like this. A jittery spasm twisted her stomach. Her gaze slid to the sprinkling of gray in Grant’s ink-black hair. The odd tiny line creased the corners of his eyes, and he had just the smallest hint of dual wrinkles forming between his brows.

  He was leaner and more toned than when they married. Vivi loved it when he’d come upstairs after a workout, moisture sculpting his shirt to his back and chest, hair damp, hands smelling of the leather inside his weight gloves. It was an instant shot of lust directly to her libido. He had no idea how strongly he affected her. If she could catch him before he made it to the shower, when his blood was still pumping furiously and the endorphins hadn’t seeped awa
y, she could lure him into almost anything. Those stolen moments, the spontaneous romps of quick, frantic, sweaty sex when neither of them fully undressed, were the stuff of fantasies.

  “Hey Viv, you all right?” Cade tossed empty beer bottles in the trash. She hadn’t heard him come in again and jumped. “You look like someone just ran over your dog.”

  Or stole my husband? “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  She stomped into the laundry room, yanked the washer open and started loading it. Sure, she’d fantasized about Cade. How could she not? He was a tall, strong, Nordic blond with rough, strong hands. She was human. Fantasies were just that—dreams, airy wisps of thoughts that she’d never have considered acting on. She fantasized about winning the lottery, running away to Tahiti, and plowing her car into the idiot who cut her off on the highway, too.

  It would have stayed just a fantasy if it hadn’t been for Grant. When she suggested that threesome fantasy become a reality, Grant hadn’t gotten angry. He’d gotten hard, rolling her beneath him and fucking her rough and deep for a second time. A new edge crept into his lovemaking, an illicit zest that powered his thrusts with a near-savage need.

  Grant always whispered her name at the peak of his orgasm, the sound a broken gasp in her ears that never failed to touch her heart. That night, there had been no name, just a stammered groan.

  Would he moan Cade’s name in the same erotic tone?

  When she came back into the kitchen, Cade was rinsing his hands at the kitchen sink. “Cade, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” He jerked a couple paper towels off the rack and dried his hands.

  “When you realized you were bisexual, did Grant…I’m just wondering how he took it. I mean, you were pretty young, right?”

  “About fifteen. Nah, actually I think I always knew.” Cade shrugged and leaned over the island. “But he was cool with it. I was more afraid of telling him than I was of telling my mom.”

  “Really? Why?”

  His casual pose drew her eyes to the breadth of his shoulders. He really was far too sexy for his own good.