Christmas Is Coming

by Shelley Munro

  “Hi, sweetheart. What’s up?” He listened while she told him everything.

  “Fuck. Liam is with Rachel’s father, delivering our bid.”

  “He wouldn’t do anything stupid, would he?”

  “Liam?”

  “No, Robert Saunders.”

  Fletch paused. “He’s not a hothead.”

  “This must be hitting close to home for Liam with his mother.” Liam didn’t like to talk about his mother, but she remembered the teasing he’d received at school. She might have been a few years younger, but even she’d been aware of the ridicule he’d faced at the hands of the other children.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll circle the wagons. If anyone asks questions, deny everything. The gossip column is mere speculation. No one knows the truth apart from us.”

  “But what about your business? Won’t this hurt you both?”

  “It’s true some of our clients are traditional and might believe the gossip, but we should be okay. We’ve built a solid reputation.” Fletch chuckled. “Besides, you’re gonna make lots of money at Fancy Free. I fancy being a kept man.”

  Gaby laughed as he’d meant her too. “A couple of male slaves would work well for me.”

  Fletch sobered. “Just as long as you don’t let gossip scare you away, Gaby.”

  “No.” A reply straight from the heart. She didn’t know how or when this shift in her thoughts occurred but their relationship felt right. The three of them together didn’t seem wrong or unnatural.

  “Good. I’ll get hold of Liam. Hang tight, sweetheart. Ignore the comments.”

  With a sigh, Gaby returned to the lab and put the phone back on the hook. The ringing started immediately.

  “Fancy Free lab,” Gaby said.

  “You told me you had separate rooms,” her mother shrieked down the line.

  “What are you talking about?” Gaby played dumb. Much safer that way.

  “The paper says you sleep in the same room.”

  “What paper? I have no idea what you’re talking about. Look, Mum. I’m flat out. I’ll talk to you later.” Gaby ignored the squawk coming down the line and hung up on her mother.

  By the time Gaby arrived home that night, exhaustion dogged her and her throat ached from denying the rumors floating around Sloan. Everyone she met during the course of the day expressed an opinion. The wink-wink nudge-nudge got to her after a while and it was a relief to enter the haven of their house and shed her work persona for a pair of jeans, a comfortable shirt and bare feet.

  The light on the answer phone blinked insistently. Gaby grabbed a pen and pad and jabbed the message replay button. Her mother. Her sister. Her father. Gran. Rachel. Rachel’s father.

  Gaby’s pen stilled at the harsh tone of his voice—so different from the affable man of the previous evening. The newspaper owner wanting an interview with her about the new Fancy Free products. Several hang-ups. The leader of the Children of Nature cult.

  Color her complimented by the attention. In between the identified callers, several anonymous insults came from people calling them depraved, among other things. Fletch’s mother had also called, along with his two brothers. Liam was probably glad of his lack of family at this stage, although Fletch’s mother had included Liam in her terse message.

  The tape was full. Gaby hit delete and turned off the answer phone. When the phone started to ring, she disconnected the plug at the wall.

  What was wrong with everyone? It was her life and she’d live how she chose. No one should dictate behavior to her.

  Gaby grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured herself a glass. It was her turn to cook dinner and she grabbed a chicken from the fridge, stuffing the cavity with herbs and a cut lemon before popping it in an oven bag. Once the oven heated, she placed the chicken inside and put on the timer. Glad of the mindless task of cooking, she peeled potatoes and prepared a salad.

  Her cell phone chirped, indicating the arrival of a text. Late home. Don’t wait dinner for us.

  Gaby considered plonking herself in front of the telly. She tried to sit down but immediately shot to her feet again, unable to concentrate. She checked the time on the microwave clock and came to a decision. Once the chicken was cooked, she’d go out.

  In her bedroom, she exchanged her comfortable shirt for a formfitting one. The shirt hem stopped two inches short of the band of her low-slung jeans. Gaby pulled the band from her hair and dragged her fingers through the long locks, letting it swing around her shoulders in wild curls. A pair of strappy sandals with a spike heels and a quick makeup refresh, topped with a bold red lippy, finished her preparations. Under no illusions, she knew this trip to the Cricket would be difficult. The messages on the answer phone told the story, but she refused to hide in shame. No, she wanted to enter the Cricket with head held high, her shoulders back in a show of pride. She cared for both Liam and Fletch and she liked the person she was when she spent time with them.

  Their relationship was so new and untried. It wasn’t fair for a gossip columnist to take something precious and judge them dirty and unnatural. If people—friends and neighbors and family—couldn’t deal they had a problem, not her.

  During the quick drive to the pub, she let her mind prod and worry at the problems she’d experienced with her latest developmental product. Soon the local council would put up Christmas decorations and festoon the street lamps with greenery and bright red candles. The big Christmas tree would go up near the cafe, ready for the Christmas parade and Santa’s arrival in Sloan.

  The pub was busy for a Thursday night. She parked her car, grabbed her handbag and took a deep breath to steady the swirl of nerves in the pit of her stomach.

  If anything, the gossip column had made her come to a decision. She wanted Fletch and Liam in her bed, both together and separately, whether they were testing Fancy Free products or not. She loved both men already and was rapidly falling in love with them. No matter what friends and family said or how they judged, she didn’t intend to back away from a lifetime of possible happiness, not without exploring the potential.

  Gaby pushed through the double doors leading into the Cricket. Live music from a local band poured from the right side of the large room and several couples were struttin’ their stuff on the small dance floor. She scanned the crowd, smiling at the people she knew and ignoring the snubs from those who turned away. Oh yeah. Everyone read the Sloan Gazette.

  At the bar, she slid onto a barstool and ordered a glass of sauvignon blanc before glancing around to see if people were still staring. The first person she noticed was Fletch’s younger brother. He sauntered up to the bar and slung an arm around her shoulders.

  “Hey, Gaby. How are you doing?” Craig asked. They’d gone to school together and had even dated casually a couple of times. With no romantic spark between them, they’d graduated to friends.

  “I’ve had better days,” she said. “You?”

  “Fletch and Liam keep us busy. You want to come and sit with us? We’re hanging out near the pool table. Grayson and Marie are crowing that no one can beat them. What do you say we whip their asses?”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Craig squeezed her shoulder in quick reassurance. “If my big bro is clever enough to catch you, I say he’s smart.”

  “And what about Liam?”

  Craig whistled softly. “It’s true?”

  “Your ears only. To anyone else I’m gonna deny everything.”

  A speculative glint entered his gaze then he grinned. “Two smart men. Only you could keep those two in line. I’m not judging. You’re my friend.”

  “Other people have opinions.”

  “Fuck ’em.” Craig waved at the bartender and ordered several drinks. “Want a top up?”

  “Thanks.” Gaby picked up several drinks and followed Craig over to the pool tables at the left side of the bar.

  “Look who I found,” Craig said.

  Gaby realized she’d tensed and forced her shoulders to relax. Deny
everything. She didn’t owe anyone explanations, but she was aware of the wave of furtive whispers following her through the pub, the conjecture. The open disgust in some people, some of them supposedly her friends, hurt.

  “Gaby,” Marie said with a smile. She glanced past her to study the crowd. “Where are Liam and Fletch? They’re usually half a step behind you.”

  Gaby wasn’t blind to the intense interest in her reply, their avid attention waiting like a caged beast ready to spring and take her down. Marie’s question was an innocent one—she hadn’t meant to draw attention—it was there in the widening of her eyes and the horrified expression. She clapped her hand over her mouth.

  Gaby laughed. “They’re at work. We’re roomies, not attached at the hip.” She paused to take a sip of wine, pleased with her performance, the lack of tremor in her hand.

  “Is Fletch dating anyone?” one of Marie’s friends asked.

  “I think he’s been too busy at work,” Gaby said, taking care with her answer because this question held a possible trap.

  “It’s true,” Craig said. “We’re doing a lot of overtime at present. You ready for a rematch? Gaby has agreed to play.”

  Although Craig’s friends talked to her during the course of the evening, she was aware of the whispers behind her back, the rumors flying from mouth to ear. Gaby ignored them to concentrate on the pool game. She leaned over the table, eyed the corner pocket and struck the white cleanly. The ball dropped into the pocket.

  “Great shot!” Craig said. “Do it again.”

  Laughing, Gaby sank the black and ended the game.

  Craig whooped and drew her into a bear hug and pressed a noisy kiss to her cheek. Gaby drew back laughing, her merriment dying when she noticed a woman standing near Marie and the others.

  Rachel.

  Great. That was all she needed.

  She let Craig guide her back to the table. He handed her glass to her and she accepted the wine with a smile.

  “Excellent game,” he said.

  “Gaby is good at games,” Rachel said in a loud voice. “She makes a game of stealing other women’s men.”

  Gaby gasped. “I do not!”

  “If it wasn’t for you, Liam would accept me. He wouldn’t throw me away like yesterday’s trash and reject our baby.” Her fingers curled around her glass so tightly Gaby feared it might not stand the strain. Gaby’s attention went to the drink. If Rachel was pregnant, why the heck was she drinking alcohol? Because call her stupid, but Rachel’s drink didn’t look like a soda.

  Gaby backed up, not wanting to engage or encourage any more animosity. Rachel prowled after her, not giving her the chance to escape.

  “You’re ashamed,” she said, a triumphant note in her voice. “And you should be.”

  A hand settled on Gaby’s shoulder and she jumped in fright.

  “Steady,” Liam said in a low voice.

  Rachel’s features twisted, her eyes turning flat and hard. Determined. “Why are you doing this to me?” She tossed her drink in Gaby’s face, burst into tears and fled, pushing her way through the crowd.

  “You okay?” Liam asked, ignoring the interested bystanders to wipe off her face.

  “I’m fine.” Gaby scowled in the direction Rachel had disappeared.

  “You should marry her,” someone in the crowd said.

  “Yeah, you can’t have your fun and not accept the consequences,” someone else muttered.

  Fletch joined them and the mutters increased.

  “It’s sick,” a woman said in a loud voice. “Against god’s laws.”

  Another woman added her five cents to the conversation. “You’re a selfish woman, snapping up two good men instead of being happy with one.”

  “I’m going home to change out of these sticky clothes,” Gaby said.

  “Why did you come to the pub?” Liam demanded in a low voice. “You must have realized everyone would gossip and give you a hard time.”

  “This isn’t the place,” Fletch said. “Let’s go.” He wrapped his hand around her waist and propelled her from the pub. “Keys?”

  Gaby pulled her keys from her handbag and handed them to him. He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in before closing the door and heading around to the driver’s side.

  “I’m not an invalid.”

  “Humor me, okay? Liam and I’ve had a crap day. All I want to do is go home, have a shower and crawl into bed with both of you.”

  Gaby swallowed at the sheer need in his voice, the depth of feeling. He’d verbalized exactly what she craved.

  When they arrived back at their house, Fletch parked her car. “Wait there.”

  “You don’t have to act the gentleman for me.”

  “I want to look after you,” he said, jumping out of her car before she could formulate a reply.

  “You don’t open the door for Liam.”

  “I would if he’d let me,” Fletch said. “But we’re keeping things low key in public.” He hustled her out of the car before she asked more questions, but they littered her mind. So many questions and possible answers.

  Liam unlocked the front door and stood aside for her and Fletch to step inside. The door shut behind them and the tension ratcheted sharply upward. Not scary hostility but something right and natural.

  “Let’s get you out of this wet shirt,” Fletch said.

  “I’ll turn on the shower. Rachel’s aim was off and I’m sticky too.” Liam brushed a kiss over her cheek and left them alone in the entranceway. Seconds later the water went on in the bathroom.

  Fletch tugged her into the bathroom and bent to unfasten her shoes. He helped her balance while she kicked them out of the way. Standing again, he undid a couple of buttons and lifted the fitted shirt over her head then reached behind to unfasten her bra. “God, you’re beautiful.” He brushed his knuckles over the swell of one breast. “The only thing that’s kept me going today is the knowledge I was coming home to spend time with both you and Liam.”

  He pushed her jeans down, taking her tiny panties with them. She stepped out of the denim. “Into the shower with Liam.” He swatted her butt as he sent her on her way.

  When she glanced back, she saw him watching her, lust on his face. She winked and waggled her butt, making him laugh. Smiling, she joined Liam who was already standing under the water.

  “Rough day?” She edged him away from the nearest showerhead and let the warm water pour over her chest to wash away the sticky drink.

  “Rachel’s father tore up our bid and he’s spread the word. The work we’d lined up is drying up for one reason or another. We’ve received several cancellations.”

  “Can they do that?”

  Liam dragged a hand through his hair and shrugged. “They’ve done it.”

  “Can you keep your crew on?”

  “Not if we don’t get any jobs.” Fletch stripped rapidly. “Don’t use all the hot water.”

  Gaby grabbed the soap and scrubbed it over Liam’s back.

  “Squish over,” Fletch said, joining them in the wet area.

  Liam cursed when his back hit the cold wall. “Damn, we need another shower head. I told you we should have put in three.”

  “Stop whining,” Fletch said. “Get your ass moving into the bedroom and I’ll warm you up.”

  Liam stilled. “Promise?”

  “Things might have turned to shit at work but I don’t intend to let vicious tongues kill the best thing in my life. You and Gaby belong here with me.”

  Liam pushed away from the wall, out of the reach of the water and grabbed a towel. “I thought you might have changed your mind.”

  “Not me.” Fletch’s gaze drifted from her to Liam, his usual humor absent for once. “I say we ignore the crap and ride out the storm. Another scandal will come along and people will forget about us.”

  “You think?” Gaby stepped out of the water and relaxed into Liam’s embrace, allowing him to help her dry off.

  Fletch turned off the water.
“It’ll take awhile, especially with Rachel fanning the flames.”

  “I still say she’s not carrying my baby,” Liam said.

  Gaby shrugged. “I vote we change the subject.”

  “I’ll second that.” Liam grabbed her right hand and dragged her from the bathroom toward Fletch’s bedroom. He lifted her off her feet and tossed her onto the bed. He spread her legs and lowered his head to get busy. His warm tongue going down her slit brought a moan of delight.

  Fletch sauntered into his room. “Now that’s a sight to behold. Is there room for me?”

  “Oh god.” They intended to kill her with sex. Already, she trembled on the cusp of orgasm, climbing fast with a few flicks of Liam’s tongue.

  “I think she likes the idea,” Fletch said, the edge of amusement in his husky voice. “But first…” He kissed Liam. Not a gentle kiss or an easy one he typically bestowed on her. This was more aggressive, laced with passion. Promise.

  Gaby braced on her elbows, watching them through narrowed eyes. “I’ve said it before and it bears repeating. It makes me incredibly hot to see the two of you kiss.”

  The two men parted, both turning to stare at her.

  “It really does?” Liam asked.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “I like watching you and Fletch too,” Liam said, his expression telling Gaby the admission surprised him.

  Fletch chuckled, gave Liam another swift kiss before lowering his head to lick around her clit. “Pretty,” he said, the puff of air from his words sending a shudder of decadent warmth through her.

  Never in her wildest dreams had she considered a relationship so much out of the norm. Another shudder went through her as she considered the coming confrontation with her mother. She’d probably disown her. Luckily her father was a bit more progressive, although this situation might throw him.

  Then Liam and Fletch drove her concerns away, the flicker of their tongues over her labia and sly forays across her clit shoving her on edge. Her hands gripped the duvet cover, creasing the cotton as she attempted to stave off the waiting leap into pleasure. They petted her, licked her and occasionally paused to kiss each other.