I shook my head. I might want someone to join me in the shower, but it wasn't Susan, or any female for that matter.
“Crazy Susan or our mothers. Which is worse?” I asked.
Susan was Mike's temporary Alaskan problem. My mother would be around for much longer and her power crossed state lines.
“Look, we can't talk about this here in the dining room. Let's finish cleaning up and go to our room.”
Trish breezed by, but stopped, sighed. “Ooh, I remember when I got engaged. Banks wanted to have me all alone, too. He couldn't keep his hands off me either.” She waggled her eyebrows mischievously. “Take all the time you want. I'll cover for you if anyone asks.” She winked at us and left. Obviously she heard the tail end of our conversation.
“Seriously?” I hissed. I picked up the package of hot dog buns, tossed them at Mike and walked away.
CHAPTER FOUR
I stormed off to our bedroom and plopped down on the bed, stared up at the popcorn textured ceiling. I was ready to strangle Mike with my bare hands. This was definitely not what I volunteered for. We were in such a cluster. If Goldie knew about the engagement, then everyone in Bozeman knew about it. I wasn't very prominent or remotely famous, but there were about five hundred families that were involved with my school, so I knew many, many people. Mike, as a doctor, was well-known. Between the two of us alone, we covered all young families and those with foot injuries. But add in our parents, crazy friends like Goldie, and the entire town was connected. It was like its own little social networking site, without the Internet.
We were doomed.
I grabbed my cell from my pocket and called Goldie. “Hey, it's Violet.”
“Well, if it isn't the bride.” I heard her chuckling.
I winced. “Very funny. Please tell me my parents don't know.”
“No, you don't want hard plastic. Silicone is the way to go. What? No, you don't want to use it like that.” I heard some rustling. “Sorry, Violet. Yes, of course your parents know.”
I went to the bathroom to dig up some heartburn tablets. “My mom's going to kill me!”
My second suitcase was open—I hadn't needed anything from it yet—and my things tossed about, strewn across the floor. My bathing suit was beneath a hiking boot, a lacy bra dangling from the suitcase lid. Alex must have gone scrounging for his present like he'd said. The little bugger.
“Don't worry about your mom. I told her.”
I froze, an antacid halfway to my mouth. “What do you mean you told her? You told her Mike and I are engaged? Are you out of your mind?”
“Not engaged. She heard that from Aunt Tootie's neighbor.”
I didn't know who Aunt Tootie was, but she should move, and fast. Nosy and gossipy neighbors were not good. I popped the tablet. Mint flavor spread across my tongue as I crunched down. “Then what did you tell her?”
“I told her about the little ruse you're pulling on Claudine. She thinks it's sweet Mike is worried about her feelings.”
Leaning against the vanity in the bathroom, I stared blindly at the wallpaper landscape. “You're telling me my mom knows about my fake engagement and is fine with it?”
Goldie chuckled through the phone. “She told me to tell you to have fun and she'll deal with all the gossip.”
“Really?” I was very skeptical. No way my mother would just 'deal with the gossip.' She was up to something, I just didn't know what it was.
“Yup. Hang on. No, crotchless panties don't have any fabric across the crotch. Violet?” Goldie dropped her voice. “I swear some people are idiots.”
“Like Mike to get me into this mess in the first place,” I grumbled.
“Honey, Mike is a sweetheart. You could be engaged to worse.”
I rolled my eyes. “Goldie, we're not engaged. He only hatched this scheme to avoid Crazy Susan.”
“In Bozeman, you're engaged. Have fun with it, honey. Mike's hotter than Mrs. Dinkweller's prize winning pepper jelly and I've heard he likes to take control, if you know what I mean.”
I had a feeling I did. Just one look from him and my nipples hardened.
“Even though he's smart enough to be a doctor, you're right, he's a complete idiot to come up with a lie that spread like it has,” she continued. “Which means he's a man. Since you're engaged, are you sharing a room?”
“Yes.”
“So everyone thinks you're canoodling.”
Canoodling? “Yes.”
“Are you really canoodling?”
“Goldie, I've been here less than a day.”
“So?”
“So...no.”
“Honey, do something wild. Canoodle the man. Hell, canoodle him so good his mother will notice.”
I flushed at that. I wasn't sure if it was the image of canoodling him so good, or the fact that my skills would make even Mrs. O take notice.
“In fact, I'll overnight you a box.”
“A box? A box of what?” I asked warily.
“I'll surprise you.”
“Great,” I grumbled. This was not good. I could only imagine what she'd be sending. Mike hadn't needed anything from a box the first time, except maybe condoms, and I had no doubt he didn't need them now. I popped another antacid.
“Violet Miller. Go do what you wrote in that erotic romance of yours. That's an order. It will all work out—or you'll be getting married to Mike. It's a win-win.”
Goldie clicked off without saying goodbye. She was done talking, so the call was over.
The only good news from that conversation was that my mother wasn't going to kill me and my father wasn't in the basement cleaning his shotgun. Mom was tackling the Montana aspect of this little fiasco Mike had brewed up. Goldie knew the real deal. It really couldn't get any worse.
I smiled to myself at the revelation. It couldn't get any worse. I should make the most of being engaged to Mike. I fiddled the big ring on my finger. Why not have a little fun, do a little canoodling, just like Goldie said? If I was going to carry the hussy fiancée title, then I might as well wear the sash.
My heartburn faded away, replaced by nerves. I wasn't the hussy type. Sure, I wanted Mike. So did Crazy Susan, and probably every single woman over the age of twenty-five in Gallatin County, Montana. I'd wanted him since I was in tenth grade. Graduation night hadn't changed that. In fact, it made me want to try out the full-grown Mike and take him for a test drive. Compare models. The newer model definitely had a few extra perks; a heated seat and better mileage. If Goldie came through with her mystery package, I could bring the bells and whistles and it would be one amazing ride.
***
I couldn't spend the evening in the bedroom. Mike might join me and no matter what Goldie said, I didn't want everyone to think we were canoodling while the other men watched baseball. Besides, Trish and Banks would be waiting for us. The kind of canoodling I had in mind was more than a quickie. Although, a quickie wouldn't be torture either.
In the bathroom, I freshened my makeup, brushed my hair. I didn't know what there was to do at night in Alaska, but the sun was still out and I was still awake. I wasn't Barbie perfect like Trish, but I pulled myself together considering what I had to work with.
I bumped into the twins outside my door, surprising me. It seemed they were waiting for me as the bedroom was downstairs off a side hallway. Near the laundry room. Not a prime location, and some might be bothered by the steerage accommodations in comparison to the multiple bedrooms on the second floor, but I was thrilled to be separated from the rest of the crowd. Plus, we had a bathroom to ourselves. I wasn't sure what a bachelor like Uncle Bob needed with a five bedroom house, but it was practically too small for this week.
Jean-Luc and Marc closed in on me, like wild animals cornering their prey, my back pressed against the wall. One gazed at me, his eyes practically hypnotizing, the other checking out my body, the whole time murmuring rapid French. I caught a word here and there, but when one of them—I still didn't know which—leaned in close and wh
ispered in my ear, there was no question of their meaning. I shuddered at his warm breath on my neck. I felt a hand run softly up and down my arm. Was it the other one? The only thing I could see was one French shoulder.
My dating experience might have been sporadic—the seasonal flu came with more regularity than I did—but I was a woman and knew the signs. For one man. But with twins, it was like being hit over the head with a cartoon anvil. They could have been speaking Swahili and I would have understood their intentions. I picked up on a few important French words: petite choux, partager and ménage. The first was an endearment that translated literally as little cabbage. Not overly romantic sounding, but in French, quite playful and endearing. The second meant share and I didn't have to be a Francophone to know the last.
They wanted to share me. Me! Their touch was soft, but their intentions very strong. I inhaled sharply, my eyes going wide. A teacher from a podunk town in Montana. It really was like erotic fiction. Just like my book.
The one all but kissing my neck pulled back, gazed at me. They continued to talk between them, and with context, I followed along easily. My heart hammered in my chest, nervous, a little excited, and a whole lot flattered at their very eager attentions.
“She is the one for us. Mike is not enough for her. We'll show her what having two men can be like. She will be ruined for all others.” My translation was fairly literal and I definitely caught on.
“Yes, by the end of the week she will be flying to France to be with us.”
Holy shit. Jubal's nephews were polyamorous French twins. Now I knew what Mike felt like, being chased so eagerly, and why he'd been so desperate to have me come to Alaska. Was there something in the water? Susan interrupting my shower. Uncle Bob dressing like Jefferson Davis—I knew now where the dog got his name. Obsessed twins. Everyone was crazy.
And they had their sights on me. And their hands. If I was going to take Goldie's advice and live out my erotic romance, I'd have to tag team the two French look-alike hotties. I gulped. That might be more adventure than I could handle. Did I even want to? Sure, I'd never have to carry groceries in from the car again. My car would always have the oil changed, but the toilet seat would always be up.
My mother could understand Mike's faux engagement, but I wasn't so sure how she could handle me moving to France. Goldie would have a field day if she knew.
“She smells like mint. Delectable,” the left one said.
His blue eyes were piercing, his gaze roaming over my face and settled on my mouth.
“I want to kiss her while you—”
“Hey Jean-Luc. Marc,” Mike said. He filled the doorway out to the living room. “Do you need help with something?”
Both men took a step back, giving me some breathing space. All three men stared at each other, bodies tense, and backs straight. Testosterone filled the hallway and practically choked me.
One of the twins glanced at me. Mike must not have liked the look because he came over, wrapped a hand around the nape of my neck. Goose bumps spread down my arms. This wasn't a gentle hand on my shoulder or on my waist. The placement of his hand at the back of my neck was different. It felt different. Felt oh, so possessive. Like he wasn't just telling the twins 'hands off' but telling me without words that I belonged to him.
Okay. Total pissing match.
“Mike,” I started.
“I don't like the way these guys are bothering you.”
“They're not bothering me. Really.” Okay, they were bothering me. The kind of bother that had my girl parts perking up. I'd never before in my life been the interest of three men. Three hot, dominant, alpha men. At the same time. It was a volatile situation and I was a little unsettled. And a lot turned on.
“They need to sniff around someone else.”
Sniff? Seriously? “I don't think they understand what you just said.”
He looked down at me, eyes sharp. Intense. “Fine. Then I'll speak in a language they're sure to understand.”
The hand at my nape pulled me up onto my tiptoes as he lowered his mouth to mine. He kissed me. Not a simple peck on the cheek, but a 'get a room' kiss that left no doubt in either Jean-Luc or Marc's mind—or mine—Mike's meaning.
Tilting his head, he angled the kiss so that he settled in deeper, his teeth nipping at my lower lip, hard enough to have me gasp, and then his tongue licked and soothed the pain away. I moaned. It was the most erotic kiss I'd ever had. I wanted more.
When he lifted his head, I looked down to see his T-shirt tangled tightly in my fingers. I never remembered grabbing hold. He'd blown all of my circuits and I wasn't sure if my legs worked. Or if I was still wearing clothes.
His kiss had certainly done what he'd intended because the twins were nowhere in sight.
“That was so caveman of you.”
Mike grinned, his smile filled with manly pride. “Whatever it takes, babe. Whatever it takes.” He walked off, heard him ask Jubal what the score was on the game.
As I stood there contemplating the shallow depths of a man's psyche, I saw Trish out of the corner of my eye, picking up things from the living room. Beneath one arm was a ceramic garden gnome. Since dinner she'd changed into a clingy white t-shirt with a horizontal strip of black sequins strategically placed to show off her ample assets. Her makeup was perfect and her hair was sleek down her back.
I recognized that gnome. What was it doing in Alaska and how did Trish come to have it? I went to find out.
Trish eyes darted over my shoulder as I approached. I pivoted and we both watched the brothers watching me as they slinked off to a different part of the house.
“Wow,” she said, eyes glued to the hallway the men had just vacated.
“Yeah, wow.” I pointed to George under her arm to change the topic off of...wow. I wasn't going there. I didn't know what to say if I did. Something like: The twins wanted me to move to France with them, giving up Mike and our fake life together. I wasn't sure which part of the story she'd believe less. “So, the gnome.”
“It's yours, right?” she asked. “Alex had it. He must've gone through your things. I'm so sorry.”
I was a little confused. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I added, “It's not exactly mine. I mean, I don't just lug garden creatures in my suitcase or anything. The gnome belongs to a seven-year-old friend in Montana. He's a little obsessed with it and I'm surprised he parted with it. He must've snuck it into my suitcase when he and his mother drove me to the airport.”
Trish's beautiful brow crinkled in confusion. “Why would he want it to come here?”
I shrugged. “No idea. Kids are a little weird sometimes.”
Trish nodded her head in agreement. She had one of her own and I had no doubt she could relate.
“I'll find out,” I told her.
“I'll give it back to you then before Alex either breaks it or falls in love with it.” She handed it over. “I don't need that heading back to Minnesota with us.”
It was heavy in my hands, the sound of my ring clinking against the ceramic loud in the room.
“Banks and I were going to go out tonight. The weather's no good for much else. From the hand gestures the twins were making about drinking when I saw them earlier, I think they're joining us. How about you and Mike?”
Drinking sounded pretty good. “Oh. Um...sure. Let me talk to him and let you know, okay?”
***
I found Mike in the man cave with the others—he hadn't settled in yet like Jubal and Mr. O—and he abandoned the game for me. The others were so riveted to the set they wouldn't have noticed if I'd walked in the room naked.
“What's that?” Mike pointed at the gnome beneath my arm.
He led me down the hall toward our room, one big hand gentle—hot—on my waist.
“This...is George. He's a stowaway from home.”
He looked at the gnome. “There's a story here.”
“I'm sure. I don't know what it is yet. I'll keep you posted.”
We'd made it a
s far as the hallway off our bedroom, right next to the laundry, where the twins had waylaid me. He lowered his voice. “Did you talk to your mom?”
“Did you talk to yours?” I countered.
“I told her to downplay it for a bit.”
“You did?” I was surprised. I didn't think he'd do it. He'd been so concerned about her feelings he'd concocted the whole scheme in the first place. Her feelings were important enough to fly me—at short notice and during high season—to Alaska. But maybe it wasn't all about protecting his mom anymore. When he'd changed our relationship status, he now had to start worrying about my feelings, too. The fact that he'd considered my words, considered my frustration and had done something about it felt good. Like he cared. That was a start.
“She understood we want to keep it quiet for now. I just think she's thrilled you're here.”
“She is?” He could have said Jubal had adopted a pet moose and I wouldn't have been more surprised. “Mrs. O?”
He propped one shoulder against the wall, ankles crossed. His sheer size blocked most of the light from the recessed can in the ceiling. Casual, but I knew looks could be deceiving. “You don't like my mom, do you?”
“She scares the shit out of me.”
Mike grinned. I melted. Why did the wilds of Alaska make a man look rugged and...virile? Maybe all the fresh air made my hormones all out of whack. Man, he was hot. I wouldn't mind doing erotic things with him. That stupid caveman kiss had me all imaginative. “Sometimes she scares the shit out of me, too.”
“How about my mom? Does she scare you?”
He ran his knuckles down my cheek, surprising me, and eliciting a completely different reaction than when Jean-Luc or Marc had done the same thing earlier. This time I tingled in all the right places. “Now that we're engaged, both of your parents scare me. Does your dad have a shotgun?”
I nodded. “And a rifle.”
Mike swore under his breath. “So, how did your mom react?”
“I talked to Goldie instead. She says we're big news down there, but my mom knows the real story and is fine.”
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