Tiny Dancer [Divine Creek Ranch 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Heather Rainier

  Someone said a holiday. What holiday?

  As they prepared to leave, Grace turned to Camilla and said, “I know you and the guys are really busy with preparations for the club. Have you made any plans for this Thursday?”

  Thanksgiving! “Oh. Um…” Camilla looked to her men. “I forgot. Shoot.”

  Ben smiled and shrugged. “We can do whatever you want, sugar. I don’t have any obligations.”

  “What about you, Quinten?”

  “Mom and Dad called today and said they’ll be in Colorado at my sister’s house over Thanksgiving and they want to spend the first weekend in December with us, if that’s okay with you.”

  That gave her a little over a week to prepare. She’d never met his parents before. She nodded affirmatively at him and then smiled at Grace. “Nope. No plans.”

  “Good. Then you’re invited to our house for Thanksgiving.” She accepted the invitation, and they discussed what Camilla could bring to the gathering. Gesturing at the large expanse of dance floor as they walked back through to the main room of the club, Grace said, “And now I really hope you’ll consider offering striptease lessons on that huge floor. Did you ever hear from the belly dancer?”

  Camilla regretfully shook her head. “Not a word. I’m disappointed, too.”

  With Rose Marie tucked to his side, Ethan and Grace bid them good-bye and went on their way home.

  She turned to Ben and Quinten once they were back in her office. She looked around its interior, recalling their earlier tryst, and thought how precious what the three of them had was to her. You never know how much time you have. Grace is right. Seize the day, baby. She licked her lips like a cat that had gotten into the cream as she looked from one wonderful man to the other.

  Quinten eyed her hungrily, his inner horndog never far from the surface. “What, baby?”

  “Well…I may have adjusted my opinions slightly about having you both underfoot.” Both men groaned at her obvious reference to the earlier events in the office.

  Yeah, I could definitely get used to them being underfoot, on top, on the bottom. Just so long as I’m in between.

  * * * *

  Thanksgiving…

  Camilla felt full to bursting as she followed Grace into the living room with Rose Marie in her arms, jabbering a mile a minute. They joined all their men, who were sitting on the couches around the crackling fireplace. A chill had been in the air all day, and Grace had decided a fire was just what they needed now that they were stuffed with turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes, cranberries, and pumpkin pie.

  Ethan handed them both glasses of a fruity red wine he’d just poured for them to enjoy while the men drank beers.

  Rose Marie roamed on the floor, going from man to man to be held, eyeing Ben flirtatiously while playing peek-a-boo with Quinten. She’d been around the two of them all her life, so she treated them no differently from her family.

  Ethan took a seat on the floor next to Jack, who was closing the mesh fireplace screen so that Rose Marie wouldn’t get burned by stray sparks as she played. She crawled up Jack’s legs and into his lap before turning to him.

  She placed her chubby little hands on his cheeks and in a piquant voice said, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”

  Camilla chuckled softly with the others as Jack responded, “What-y, what-y, what-y?” as though they’d played this game before.

  Rose Marie puckered her little rosebud lips and said, “I need kisses.”

  Jack chuckled and kissed her face and bussed her cheek, making funny sounds against her chubby neck as she giggled happily.

  Camilla didn’t even have to ask if the thrill of a foursome had waned for Grace over the last couple of years. All she had to do was watch the way Grace looked at her men, the way she smiled indulgently as Jack showed affection to their little daughter. Despite all the challenges they would face in the years to come, the fact that it was worth it was clearly painted on Grace, Jack, Ethan, and Adam’s faces.

  Grace interrupted her musing when she said, “So how did it go yesterday?”

  Camilla slipped her shoes off and tucked her feet under her on the couch as she leaned toward Grace. “It was above and beyond what I’d expected, Grace. I’m still not sure they understand how much it meant to me.”

  Grace smiled happily and knotted her hands together. “Tell me from beginning to end.”

  “They came with me to the storage place where I’d kept all of my mom’s things. All I was going to do was go through boxes until I found what I needed and then leave.”

  Camilla thought back to the looks on Ben’s and Quinten’s faces the day before. They’d stood outside the door of the small storage unit where her father had hired movers to take all their stuff when he’d come to “collect” her. She’d received the key to the storage unit in the mail from her father’s lawyer years before, after the move had been completed.

  Both of her men had stood there, hands on hips, surveying her small collection of boxes from the house she’d shared with her mother.

  “Quinten left and came back with the truck and the flatbed trailer. They unloaded it all out of the storage rental and put it on the trailer, we turned in my key, and they brought it all home with us.”

  Her past meeting her future.

  Grace put her hand over her mouth and whispered, “Oh my gosh, what men.” Her simple compliment was voiced in awe.

  “Once we got it all home, they helped me sort through stuff I hadn’t seen since I was sixteen.”

  Grace patted her forearm, her expression filled with concern. “Was that hard?”

  “A little…at times. I hadn’t touched any of it prior to yesterday because the painful memories and feelings had been so strong. Then as the years passed, I just paid the bill for the rental every month and relegated sorting through it to the back burner.”

  Grace nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Yeah.”

  “My mom had this pretty red-and-white china teapot that she loved. It was an antique passed down from her grandmother. She used it all the time. We found it, still in perfect condition. After we were done with all the boxes, Ben and Quinten sealed the spout closed and…”

  Her voice broke as she recalled the tenderness in Ben and Quinten’s eyes when she’d opened the old cardboard shoe box.

  Grace took a deep breath and sniffled quietly.

  “We transferred Mom’s ashes to the teapot and they sealed it closed. I don’t know why I resisted doing it so long.”

  “Maybe you needed someone special there with you when you finally did it?” Grace asked as she quickly swiped a tear from her cheek.

  “I think so. It didn’t make me sad. I was happy to have her settled, and I think she would’ve liked being put to rest in her favorite teapot. At least I hope so,” she said with a chuckle. “Ben asked me if we could put her teapot on the mantel in the living room. He was worried that might make me feel sad or uncomfortable.”

  Grace sighed softly. “What a great guy.”

  Camilla let a tear slide down her cheek and smiled as she nodded. “Yeah. So she is at home on the mantel.”

  “I think she would be so thankful and happy for you. To know that you found such wonderful men who love you so much.”

  The meaning of Thanksgiving was brought home to her and made even more real as she looked from Ben to Quinten. She’d feared trusting those two men in the beginning, but she was so glad she’d taken a chance on them. She was thankful indeed as she watched her two lovers converse with their friends.

  Quinten, the consummate tease, over-sexed and always inspiring laughter or a smile with his antics. Loving him was fun.

  And Ben, so overprotective and steadfast in his desire to love her and take care of her, filling a need that she’d tried to ignore and bury deep. The funny thing was that he’d been filling that need for a while. Becoming lovers had only brought it to full bloom.

  It was such a blessing to be loved by these two men who were so unique, and so necessary to her happiness.
When she turned her attention back to her friend, it was to find her watching her. Grace gave her a smile of silent understanding.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Late November…

  Camilla sat with Ben and Quinten amongst the large group of strangers that had met in Tom Barton’s attorney’s office for the reading of his will, after his funeral. Shock rippled through her system, accompanied by a chill, although she wasn’t sure if that could be attributed to the temperature in the darkly paneled office or the news she’d just received.

  “What?” the coiffed and manicured blonde screeched as she jumped from her chair. Her brittle tone startled Camilla and broke the solemnity of the moment.

  Camilla’s heart pounded as the lawyer finished his comments, and she looked at the strangers surrounding her, staring at her, some with hostility and others with curiosity. Ben shifted at her left, and Quinten, sitting at her right, stroked her palm gently as he held her hand. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

  From his seat next to the woman, an older man muttered, “Sit down, Brittany. At least you get the house and an annual income.”

  “I hate that house! I lived in it because he wouldn’t buy something closer to Dallas.”

  “So sell it and quit your bitching,” said a younger and very disgruntled-looking woman from her seat across the room. “Daddy didn’t leave Mason and me hardly anything.” She glanced at a man who was similar in age, and he stuck his lip out and nodded petulantly.

  Camilla hadn’t expected to be a part of all this family drama when she’d agreed to come to Tom Barton’s attorney’s office Tuesday afternoon. The funeral had been at ten o’clock earlier that same morning, and only a handful of the people in that room had even been there.

  Tom’s attorney looked wearily over his reading glasses at the young woman, scanned the page in front of him, and read aloud from the document. “‘Shelley and Mason shall receive seventy-five thousand per year for the next ten years. That should give them time to pull their heads out of their asses, finish their educations, and get a good job supporting themselves.’” Camilla saw the briefest hint of emotion flicker on his lips before he looked up at Shelley. “Perhaps you could put some of your father’s financial suggestions to good use and invest it, make something out of…nothing.” In Camilla’s book, seventy-five thousand dollars per year was hardly “nothing.”

  He read on until Shelley interrupted him and pointed at Camilla. “Why does she inherit practically everything?”

  The attorney looked at Camilla sympathetically. She wasn’t even sure why she was in the room. “Tom’s reasons were his own, Shelley. I’m simply sharing information. As per Tom’s instructions, Ms. O’Neal inherits the bank accounts, the oil wells, the mineral rights, the acreage—”

  The older man haughtily held up his hand. “Please, you don’t need to go through the list again.”

  Mason, who was still pouting, asked, “Can we get it all in a lump sum up front?”

  “No. Tom stipulated that we were to send the amount specified on January first for the subsequent ten years after his death.”

  Shelley was aghast. “We have to wait until January?”

  The attorney nodded and continued with the reading of Tom’s will. The chatter faded as she recalled all the conversations she’d had with Tom over the last few years. Because she was interested in running her own business and would need practical advice, she’d listened to his suggestions and had been pleasantly surprised at the results. She never would’ve guessed that he intended to leave his vast wealth to her, of all people.

  “We’re fighting this,” Brittany said as she rose again from the chair and marched from the room. She had been Tom’s wife. Camilla hadn’t even known Tom was married. She didn’t look old enough to be Shelley and Mason’s mother, and Camilla recalled that he’d mentioned being married many years before but his wife had died.

  Once the reading was over and they were the only ones left in the room, the attorney lifted a thick envelope from the desk and came to her. He shook her hand and then presented her with the envelope.

  “Congratulations, young lady. Tom spoke very highly of you.”

  She took the envelope from him hesitantly. “I don’t understand.” That was the understatement of the century.

  The attorney smiled kindly at her. “Tom told me you’d say that. Everything you need to know is on the enclosed disk. After you’ve watched it, if you have any questions, you just call me, dear.”

  She followed him with Ben and Quinten out of the office, and he bid them farewell. Of all the outcomes to a meeting with this lawyer, this was the last thing she’d expected. She never would’ve known it, but Tom had been fabulously wealthy, evidently taking his own financial advice, and he’d left almost all of it to her. She was now a millionaire.

  At the house, Ben took the disk from her, slipped it into the DVD player, and asked, “Do you want to be alone?”

  Camilla shook her head negatively and thanked Quinten when he brought her a glass of iced tea and sat down beside her.

  Tears burned in her eyes as Tom’s lovable, sun-weathered face appeared on the screen. “Hey, Camilla. I’ll bet you’re in shock right now. But it’s all going to be okay.” Tom paused for just a second before he swallowed and continued on.

  “You’re the hardest-working little gal I’ve ever known. I like that about you. I know you’re wondering why you had to be at that meeting. I can imagine what it was like for you, but I had a good reason. I knew you’d want to know why I chose to leave it all to you.”

  He looked off for a minute and grinned about something and then said, “I can imagine the reactions of all those vultures in Jerry’s office, waiting to find out what they’d inherited. I wanted you to see them, so you’d understand why I left it to you.

  “My kids would run through it in a matter of a few years. My so-called wife would spend it with no thought for the future because she still has the looks to find another rich man to pick up where I left off. She was a mistake from the day I met her. Shelley and Mason didn’t turn out so hot, either. That’s my fault for not doing a better job as a father when they were younger. Shoulda known better.

  “Brittany probably said something like, ‘We will see you in court!’ before she stormed out.” Tom chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “She can bring it on. Jerry has all the information he needs about her to make it go away, but even if she does tie the will up in court, you’re okay. Just see Ethan, Ben, and Quinten about the arrangements I’ve made.”

  He was the silent investor!

  “I invested in your nightclub up front with instructions for y’all to use the money however you saw fit. Those vultures can’t touch that money because I’ve already given it as a gift.”

  He heaved a deep sigh before continuing, “I want you to use this money in any way you see fit. Invest it in your business, buy some land, take a trip. I know you’ll take care of it. Oh, and remember to give to charities you believe in. If you ever meet someone who has a dream and a good work ethic, maybe help them too. I’m proud of what you’ve made of yourself and the success you’ve had with what you learned from this old man’s ramblings.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she chuckled. The small amount she’d earned from her investments was a pittance compared to what she’d inherited that day.

  Tom continued on. “You’re probably still wondering why I trusted you with all this money.” He squinted at the camera and said, “She who is trustworthy with little will be trustworthy with much. You’ve been a blessing to me, shortcake, and I want to be a blessing to you.”

  Tom nodded at someone off camera and smiled one last time. The screen went black, and Camilla felt like a knife had been jabbed in her chest. She burst into tears as Ben wrapped his arms around her and Quinten stroked her back. Her heart felt like it was on fire as she was overwhelmed by the depth of Tom’s generosity.

  When her tears were all gone, she took a deep breath, and determinatio
n stole over her. Her business now had the best possible chance of succeeding. She’d make Tom proud of her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cody rapped his knuckles on Camilla’s office door and she looked up. Leaning against the wall, he gave her his trademark shy smile, which was such a contrast to his deep, gritty voice. “Ben just called me. He was worried about you. Said he called you earlier and you didn’t answer. And you never called him back.”

  “Oh! Shoot. I had my ringer turned off while I was interviewing Ms. Anders. I forgot to turn it back on.” Lately, it seemed the days were over before they’d even gotten started.

  “I told him you were in a meeting, and he said not to worry about it as long as we were with you.”

  Heath walked up and looked over Cody’s shoulder. “Did you tell her she’s in trouble?”

  A chuckle rumbled in Cody’s chest as he looked back at one of his best friends. “Stop trying to scare her. She wouldn’t buy it. Anyway, he said that he’d be here in a few minutes.”

  Heath nudged Cody. “Did you tell her?”

  Cody looked back at Heath with mild irritation. “I’m getting to it.”

  “Tell me what, guys?”

  Cody was thoughtful for a minute and then said, “We just wanted you to know that we think Ben and Quinten are pretty good guys. We kinda…”

  “Kinda what?”

  “We saw them as competition. When we got back into the area and came to see you the first time…we could tell that they didn’t want us around you—”