by Vanessa Vale
Of course it didn’t mean anything. Two men flirting with me wasn’t serious. I mean, two men? It was harmless fun and I had to admit, it felt good to have them looking at me in that way. Even if it was just for simple flirtation. I felt feminine, even in my less-than-stylish uniform.
It wasn’t like I was looking for another relationship and I was certain that they were just intrigued by the new woman in town. Knowing it wasn’t serious was what gave me the freedom to flirt right back. I also flirted with Mr. Kirby, who was there every morning at seven for his coffee and toast, but he was eighty-four.
It had been a long time since I’d been so flattered and charmed by any man, let alone two. Especially two. Two hot, sexy cowboys. Living in LA, I’d had no idea a cowboy could melt my butter. But two! With dark hair and chocolate colored eyes, Cole had that sexy brooding thing going on. Declan, on the other hand, was the living definition of the all-American hero with short, clean cut red hair and blue eyes. He was a cop, that much I knew from Jessie’s gossip and the sight of the SUV parked out front with the light bar on top, but I had no idea what Cole did for a living. Looking at his rugged hands, broad shoulders and corded muscles, I had to assume something physical. Something outdoors. A real dang cowboy.
I was certain Jessie knew everything about those men and would happily give me the scoop if I were to ask. That was the beauty of small towns. Everyone knew everything about everybody and gossip was considered a legitimate pastime right alongside knitting and woodworking.
But asking would mean opening up to a stranger—if I asked questions about them, someone might ask questions about me. I couldn’t risk it, no matter how curious I might be. I could hide behind playful banter; it kept any probing questions from the hot duo. Besides, I had no interest in telling anyone that I was interested in both Declan and Cole. Jessie would just laugh in my face.
In the quieter times between meals, I would let my mind wander as I filled salt and pepper shakers, trying to decide who I liked more. Declan or Cole? A gorgeous ginger or a dark-haired hottie? It had become something of a game to help keep my mind off my problems.
Some days I thought it might be Cole with his smoldering dark eyes and that slightly too-long hair that had a tendency to fall into his eyes. Something told me he would be a touch wild and a whole lot dominant in the bedroom. When I fantasized about him I saw blindfolds and handcuffs. Not typically my sort of thing, but something about Cole made me think I might just like it rough and dirty, as long as he was in charge.
Declan, on the other hand, I fantasized about when I was in the mood for slow, sweet, and seductive. He had an old-fashioned chivalry about him and I was absolutely certain that he knew how to please a woman.
Each of them, I was absolutely positive, would put a woman’s pleasure before his own every single time.
There I went again, fantasizing about two men who I’d never see once I moved on from Bridgewater. I wasn’t always so obsessed with sex. Never thought about having it with two different men. Clearly, it had been way too long since I’d had an orgasm—much as Brad liked to have control, he couldn’t make me come to save his life. He used to, in the beginning, but my pussy seemed to have a better asshole detector than my brain because it stopped buying his lies. For a long time, I’d been telling myself it was me—my sex drive was low or maybe I’d gone frigid. That was a thing, right?
But after a little time away from Brad, I knew the truth. I was horny as hell, just not for his sorry ass.
I studied my reflection one last time, keeping in mind that my two favorite customers would most likely be sitting at one of my tables. Shaking my head, I had to remember playful flirtation was all it was going to be. Why would they be interested in me? The lip balm didn’t make my lips look fuller. The swipe of mascara did nothing to highlight my eyes. And the mint green color of the uniform clashed with my pale skin. I wasn’t about to win any beauty contests, but it was fitted enough to show off my small waist and short to show some leg. But I wore my running shoes with it to spare my feet the torture of standing all day. What a look!
I gave one last glance in the mirror, assuring myself that this was as good as it was going to get. Vanity didn’t matter since my two crushes were just fantasy material and were going to stay that way. I grabbed my small purse and headed toward the door. My pace quickened at the thought of seeing my two favorite customers again. I was fully aware of how ridiculous it was, of how I was acting. With everything going on my life, a silly crush and a temporary time out from my stressful job had me feeling almost human again. I couldn’t run forever but as I walked into the diner, I couldn’t help but think that there were worse things than starting over, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.
CHAPTER TWO
DECLAN
Cole shifted in the booth across from me and checked the time for the millionth time. “Maybe she’s not working today.”
I fought back a sigh. “Jessie said she was working the lunch shift, didn’t she? If anyone would know her schedule, it’s Jessie. She’ll be here, just relax.”
Truth was, I was probably just as on edge as Cole, but I was better at hiding it. I wasn’t worried that Hannah wouldn’t show—the new waitress had never been late for her shift in the past five days we’d been coming here to see her—but I still had my reservations. Hannah Lauren was the first woman we’d set our sights on, and the fact that she was a relative stranger who we knew nothing about? Yeah, that definitely put me on edge.
It didn’t change the fact that I wanted her—that we wanted her—but my gut told me something was up with her. As a cop, that gut feeling was what had kept me alive before. I listened to it.
In Bridgewater, men knew when they’d found the one. It was custom that a woman shared two husbands, sometimes three. We were raised to listen to our hearts and go after our woman with everything we had. I was born into a family that believed in this, lived this. I had two dads, saw the dynamic between them and my mom. Knew love when I saw it. Knew they took care of her every need. Put her first. Made her the center of their world. I believed in it, and wanted that myself. Cole and I decided years ago we’d share a woman. We just hadn’t found her. Until now.
But that voice in the back of my head—the one that made me a hell of a good cop—it was damn hard to silence, even if I did believe that Hannah would be ours.
She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and sparks flew whenever she was near. Shit, I got a hard on every time I saw her and I knew it was the same for Cole.
There was no doubt in my mind the attraction was mutual. I didn’t need to be a cop to pick up on that. Her bright green eyes seemed to darken when we were talking with her and she blushed whenever we flirted or made a suggestive comment. I’d bet good money that she spent just as much time picturing how we’d be in bed as we did thinking about all the ways we’d fuck her senseless once we made her ours.
So what was the problem? We liked her, she liked us…we should be celebrating the fact that we finally found her, not sitting here staring at each other like two caged animals. Waiting. I knew what Cole’s issue was—he had a shit ton of baggage to get over before he could trust a woman after the crap his stepmom put him and his dad through. I’d known that all along and was fine with it. Like my fathers and grandfathers, I knew that once the right woman came along, she’d help Cole get over his past.
I just never thought that I’d be the one with a hang-up when we met her, and my issue was more difficult to figure out. From the moment we spotted Hannah five days ago, I’d known she was it for us. But the more we got to know her—or rather, the more we didn’t get to know her despite all our conversations—the more that cop voice told me to slow down and get some answers.
Jessie headed toward our table with a carafe of coffee. She was the only one in this town who knew anything about Hannah who’d appeared out of nowhere two weeks ago. From what I could gather, she didn’t know much at all, or wasn’t saying. She kept confidences like a damn vault
. While I appreciated that, in this instance, wanted to take her down to the station and interrogate her until she talked.
“She is working today, right, Jessie?” Cole asked.
Who she was went without saying. Cole and I hadn’t exactly been subtle in our interest.
“She’ll be here any minute.” Jessie topped off Cole’s mug and then mine, a little smile forming on her lips.
She’d run the restaurant with her two husbands longer than I’d been alive. To say that she was pleased we’d found interest in her new waitress was an understatement. She was a blatant matchmaker and we’d avoided her efforts before. But now, now we were seeking her help and she was enjoying watching us squirm.
“Have you learned anything more about where she came from?” I asked. “Or what she’s doing here? Is she just passing through or—”
She put a hand on her hip.
“Declan MacDonald, I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. I don’t know anything more than what I’ve already told you. If you want to know about the girl, I suggest you ask her yourself.”
Cole smirked at me over the rim of his mug. Like a grade schooler, my best friend still thought it was funny to watch me get scolded. I knew he shared my reservations about Hannah, but he seemed to think all the mystery around this woman would be cleared up once we got her out of this diner and into our bed.
“Just curious,” I mumbled, trying to avoid Jessie’s scowl. Jessie had taken to this new waitress and was as protective of her as if she were her own daughter.
“Every day you ask me the same questions,” Jessie said, clucking her tongue as she waited for Cole to hold out his mug to be refilled once more. “If you like the girl, you need to shut off that police brain of yours and get to know her like a regular man.”
Her words were truer than she realized. My “police brain,” as she called it, was dying to get some answers. Hannah Lauren was a mystery. She didn’t even have a car so I couldn’t search for her through the DMV. No records popped with her name. Hell, nothing came up when I searched for a Hannah Lauren. It seemed she appeared out of thin air.
My gut was saying there was more to her than she let on, but it was also telling me she wasn’t a criminal. Hell, she doted on Mr. Kirby, who was as cantankerous as a cat dunked in the creek. She put up with Sally and Violet, Jessie’s friends and town busybodies. Hannah seemed to like everyone. Hell, she even seemed to like us. To a certain point, and there went my gut feeling again.
Jessie’s eyes narrowed on me as if she could read my thoughts. “You stop it right now, Declan. She’s a sweet girl and I can vouch for her that she’s not some serial killer in hiding, if that’s what you need to hear.”
Cole was outright laughing at my discomfort and I had to fight the urge to punch him in the face as heat crept up my neck. She had a point and I knew it. I’d been a cop since I finished college and that way of thinking was hard to shake. Investigating crimes—even though anything more than teenage pranks or drunk driving were rare in our small town—had made me suspicious. Bridgewater folks tended to trust one another—even strangers. It was a good thing, but sometimes, bad stuff happened to good people.
Jessie had a point and I told her so, which took some of the fuel out of her fire. “All right, then.” I’ll be damned if Jessie’s grin wasn’t filled with mischief as she pointed at Cole, then me. “You two should stop wasting time and take the girl out, if you ask me.”
Cole and I exchanged a look. We planned on doing just that, given the chance. We’d already agreed that she would be our girl, now it was just a matter of finding a good time to ask her out. We’d wanted to the last few days but she’d been too busy working for us to ask.
“You think so?” Cole never had been one to show his hand.
Jessie nodded. “You bet. Hannah’s a sweet thing and pretty as a picture. She’d make a fine wife for you boys.”
“I hope you didn’t tell her that,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. While it was great to have Jessie give us some insights into Hannah, a man didn’t need a surrogate mother doing his work for him. I was just surprised that my real mother hadn’t heard of our interest in the new waitress yet. I’d been waiting for the call for days now. “We don’t want to scare her off.”
Jessie sniffed. “Of course not. I’ll let you two tell her that you’re a package deal and that you’re in the market for a wife. I just told her that you were both fine, available young men.” She gave us a wink. “I put in the good word. Now it’s up to you two to do the rest.”
“We’ll do our best,” I said. “And I promise, no more cop questions from here on out. I’ll get to know her the old-fashioned way.”
If the old-fashioned way meant kissing her breathless, learning her curves and what made her gasp, what made her hot, what made her come, then I was all for it.
When Jessie walked away, she wore a satisfied smile at having won her argument.
“You just lied to that nice woman,” Cole said as Jessie headed behind the counter. “You’re not letting this go, are you? You’re like a dog with a bone when you think something’s off.”
I leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “I’m not going on a witch hunt, if that’s what you mean. I just want to know more about her—where she came from, what brought her here. If Hannah really is the one for us, I’d think you’d want the same thing.”
Cole pushed the mug back and forth between his hands. He had a harder time admitting that she could be the one and right now I could practically see the gears turning in his brain. “If she’s the one for us,” he said. “We don’t know for sure.”
I gave a snort of amusement, thankfully just before I took a sip of my coffee. “Now who’s the one lying? I’ve seen the way you watch her. You can’t take your eyes off her. Those long legs and gorgeous curves.”
He nodded slowly. “I can’t deny that. The woman is hot as hell and sexy as sin.”
“And…” I prompted. I wanted to hear him say the words.
He frowned. “And you know damn well that I hope she really is our woman.”
I tried not to smile—admitting that was tough enough without me laughing at him. I was just glad to know we were in agreement. Hannah was ours.
“There’s a connection between the three of us,” he said slowly. “And I hope for both our sakes that our instincts are right.”
Christ, there was more. “But…”
Cole leaned back in the booth and shook his head. “You know damn well why I have my reservations.”
I did, and I also knew that once he got to know Hannah, he’d get over them. Just like I’d get over mine once she let us in. I had doubts about the woman herself, which could solely be resolved by a few dates. Cole had issues with the past that clouded his judgement where all women were concerned. If Hannah was wife-worthy, then those issues were going to hound him.
“Cole, she’s nothing like Courtney. You’ve got to see that.”
Cole’s stepmother was a gold digger who’d taken his dad for ride. A cruel and nasty ride. She’d worked her wiles on the grieving widower and married him, only to divorce him a short time later and steal the bulk of his money. With the man’s vast property, he’d been Montana wealthy—rich, but didn’t flaunt it. Cole, who’d been a teenager at the time, could only watch helplessly as the bitch had crushed the old man’s spirit. Cole believed her actions were the reason his father had a heart attack and died a few months later.
It made me bitter, just thinking about what that bitch had done. But Cole? It had made him jaded as fuck, that women weren’t to be trusted, especially with his heart. My gut said something was up with Hannah, but it wasn’t that she was out for Cole’s ranch or his money, which he’d brought back to the way it had been before Courtney, hell, before his mom had died.
He shrugged, but before he could argue the point I stopped him. “She’s here.”
Cole half turned in his seat to get a look at the woman in question and then we were both shamel
essly staring. Fuck, were we whipped. Hannah. She was a breath of fresh air walking through the front door of the diner. Even if I hadn’t heard the jingle of the bell attached to the entrance, I still would have known she’d just arrived. Maybe I was a romantic, but I could have sworn the atmosphere shifted and the air grew thick with tension. Need. My damn need. I shifted in my seat as my cock got hard. My brain might have some doubts about her, but my cock didn’t.
She spotted us right away and after a brief pause, so brief most people wouldn’t have caught it, she kept walking straight back to our booth after dropping off her purse behind the counter. Yes, she came right over to us. She was interested.
God, she was so fucking pretty. I itched to reach out and stroke my finger over her cheek. No makeup and a ponytail and the woman was still gorgeous. High cheekbones and a slight slant to her wide green eyes gave her an exotic look—well, exotic for Bridgewater, at least. Her dark hair was pulled back for work, like usual, and that uniform of hers shouldn’t be sexy—hell, there was nothing sexy about it when Jessie wore it—but somehow Hannah pulled it off. It made me want to know what she wore beneath. She was a petite little thing with perky, lush breasts and a sweet, rounded ass. And those legs…shit, I’d been dreaming about having those legs wrapped around my waist from the first moment I saw her.
She came to a stop at our table, her pad and pen already in hand. “Hey guys. I see you have coffee already. What else can I get for you?”
It was the same thing she’d said every day this week. The difference was, this time we’d shown up early and already had our coffee. We didn’t need anything but her. The diner wouldn’t really start to fill up for the lunch rush for another twenty minutes or so, which meant she could stand and chat. This time, she couldn’t run away from us without giving us a chance to ask her out.