Chloe's Double Draw [King's Bluff, Wyoming] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Fiona Archer

  Both deputies sat at the table, their smiles encouraging. One flipped open a small pad and began his interview. Yes, she’d locked the door. No, she confirmed there was no alarm system. Who needed one in this small town, right? No, apart from tonight’s phone message, she hadn’t spoken to Trent Young in over a year, only his wife, Anita, three months ago. When she phoned me, horrified, and told me they were divorcing and Trent wanted me for his next wife.

  What lengths he’d go to convince her, she shuddered to think. One man had already paid with his life and—

  “Chloe, Jeff here has the real estate agent’s details for his report, and we’ll contact them in the morning. The deputies have arranged for the locksmith to install a new deadbolt on the front door.” Noah stood and glanced toward one of the officers, a younger man in his midtwenties, who nodded in agreement.

  Locks for the house…right. She sighed at the chaos around her. So much broken, lost. “Of course, thanks. I appreciate your help, Officers.”

  One of the deputies, Jeff, she thought, smiled gently. “No problem, ma’am. We’re sorry you’ve had this happen. Crime in King’s Bluff is rare, especially something this, uh, nasty.”

  How wonderful she was to be the exception.

  “I’d like to get some things together and um, then I’ll check into the motel on the highway. I’m sure the B&B wouldn’t be open for guests this late.”

  “No, luv, you’re moving in with us,” Noah said.

  What?

  “She’ll be staying with us.” Flynn strode back to the dining table and dropped a blue suitcase—her suitcase—at her feet. His face kept its neutral expression despite her gasp. “I packed enough clothes for a few days and grabbed most of your things from the bathroom. You might want to check the case and make sure I didn’t leave anything important behind.”

  Chloe’s mouth opened and closed. Flynn’s words sailed past her. Noah was kidding, right? One glance at that jaw, locked hard, told her otherwise.

  “Are you both out of your minds?” She glared first at Noah, then Flynn. “What do you mean I’ll be moving in with you?”

  “We’re completely sane. You’re the one out of your mind if you think we’d step aside. Young won’t get within ten yards of you while you’re under our protection.” Flynn’s voice rang with promise.

  She cursed the shiver that rode up her spine at the mention of her stepbrother’s name. “You’re positive he’s responsible?”

  Flynn scrubbed a hand over his neck. “Until proven otherwise, yes, the gutless bastard’s our man. From the damage he’s done tonight, he’s off his bloody rocker.”

  One day she’d write that Aussie thesaurus, but for the time being, she’d go with “crazy.” At least the act of translation dulled her stress level.

  The sound of a vehicle door closing drifted past the open front doorway. Both deputies looked over her shoulder. “Locksmith’s here. We’ll get him started.” The officers headed out.

  She rose from the chair and stepped around the suitcase. “Guys, I appreciate you both wanting to protect me, but I can look after myself. Moving in with anybody would be an overreaction and besides, this is none of your business.” She switched her gaze between the men and smiled, hoping to take some of the sting out of her words. Still, they needed to understand she was serious. Sharing any details about Trent with them was impossible.

  Noah stepped close, forcing her to back up against the solid hardness of Flynn’s chest. Her smile fled. From behind, Flynn’s arms circled her waist, drawing tight.

  Noah stood still, silent. He stared down, his icy blue eyes lit with a power that defied her to look away. She couldn’t. God, she wanted to. Her breathing quickened and she clenched her fists, desperate to break his spell.

  “Make no mistake, Chloe. You’re moving in with us as of tonight. Whoever broke in has let you know it’s personal. Either you come under your own steam and let us care for you or I’ll request that Sheriff Quilter take you into protective custody.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?” He stared back, hands on hips, legs braced apart.

  “No, but—”

  “Listen up. There is no way in hell you’re spending tonight alone. You know we’re crazy for you. We want to take care of you.” He looked to the heavens as he let out a breath and ran his hand along the back of his neck before continuing. “Chloe, let us keep you safe.”

  “I’m not ready to spend the night at your house.” She cringed at the tremor in her voice.

  Noah lifted a hand, his thumb stroking her cheek in a familiar yet soothing gesture. “I promise you, we’ll behave like perfect gentlemen.” The rigid line of his mouth relaxed into a tender smile. Devastating charm mixed with absolute sincerity. What a heady mix.

  Tears smudged her vision. She dropped her chin and blinked until moisture trailed down her cheeks.

  “Aww, hell.” Noah cursed and pulled her from Flynn’s grasp into his own embrace. The welcoming strength of his hug provided some comfort. “Come on, Chloe, you don’t have to be brave tonight.”

  And tomorrow? What happens then?

  A sudden rush of tiredness consumed her, welling up from her feet all the way to the crown of her head. It was just…too much. She sighed and nodded up to Noah.

  The locksmith finished up as Noah led Chloe out to the truck. She caught a brief glimpse of him handing an envelope to Flynn. In the men’s now well-established preferred seating arrangement, she found herself deposited between them.

  What was she going to do to stay a step ahead of her self-proclaimed protectors? In their own alpha, take-no-prisoners kind of way, they were determined to shield her from the bogeyman. There was a certain comfort in that assurance. Yes, but who would protect her from Noah and Flynn?

  * * * *

  Chloe rubbed her thumb back and forth over her mom’s ring. She’d stay for one night. One. In the morning, she’d drive herself—No car. Dammit. Well…she’d call Purdy. Good, that worked. Then what? Make a stand or run?

  She closed her eyes. The fearful image of her room filled her mind. Her bedsheets ripped with savage force. If Trent caught her—

  “Let’s get you inside, luv, while Noah parks the truck.”

  She blinked. Inside? Out past the truck’s windshield, a two-story ranch house seemed to have risen up out of the darkness.

  How long had they been driving? Ten minutes? She hadn’t been paying attention. She’d spent every second inventing plausible excuses to make her escape. So far she’d come up with…zilch.

  Giving herself a quick mental shake, she gathered her purse then twisted to look behind her.

  “I’ll bring your bag, Chloe.” Noah winked.

  Her stomach did one of those backflip thingies. Man, how old was she? Fifteen? “Gr–great, thanks,” she managed to stammer out.

  Flynn guided her up a set of steps leading to the front door. In the darkness, she made out the wide veranda that snaked around the sides. He unlocked a large double entry door decorated with stained glass down each side. Its radiant design was illuminated from light inside the house.

  Past the entry, she walked into a spacious foyer with rooms leading off on three sides. A wide staircase stood opposite the entry doors. Its rich mahogany railings gleamed from decades of polishing, a testament to the heritage of the property.

  The decisive clunk of the lock on the front door reverberated around the foyer. Her last chance of freedom gone—for tonight anyway.

  Flynn claimed her hand and walked toward the stairs. A door banged closed somewhere to her right.

  “We’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow. For now, you need to get some sleep.”

  “Since you brought the subject up, we should go over the sleeping arrangements.” Her words triggered one eyebrow to rise. Ignore. “I’d like my own room, please.”

  “You’ll be sleeping in your own bed, Chloe. I guarantee it.” Noah’s voice rumbled from behind. She whirled around.


  Noah held the handle of her suitcase in one hand, his other in the pocket of his dress pants.

  She lifted her chin a touch higher. “Let me clarify myself. I mean I won’t be pressured into having sex with either one of you.” Yep, that pretty much nuked any chance for ambiguity. And warmed her face better than an open fire.

  The men exchanged a silent look before she felt Flynn’s hand on her shoulders, guiding her to face him.

  “Chloe, it will always be your choice to have sex with us.” He flicked a wave of hair over her shoulder. His knuckles brushed against the curve of her neck. A flurry of tiny shivers danced over her skin. “Tonight, we promise you rest and safety, and maybe the odd cuddle if you take advantage of our innocent natures.”

  She couldn’t fight the smile that stretched her mouth. “You haven’t been innocent since you were in kindergarten.”

  The men’s laughter boomed around the foyer. Flynn tugged on her hand and began their ascent to the next floor. “You’re good for us, luv.”

  “Yes, she is.” Noah’s deep voice chased her all the way up the stairs.

  At the top, Flynn turned to his left, then led Chloe down a long hallway, passing several dark wooden doors until reaching the end. He opened the last door and flicked on a light before showing her inside.

  This was the guest room? The bed alone would sleep four Flynn-sized adults. It sat between two huge windows shrouded in champagne-silk drapes. The head of the bed, decorated with an intricate cast iron frame, stood in contrast beside the earth-toned walls. A large chest with a padded seat dominated the end of the bed. On the wall, light sconces decorated with the same design as the headboard and chandelier provided subtle illumination.

  On the left side of the room was a doorway also in dark wood, which Flynn opened to reveal a spacious dressing room. To the right was another door where Noah now stood.

  “Come and see, Chloe.” Noah beckoned. As she walked across plush sandstone-colored carpet, his blue eyes studied her. Without saying a word, he opened the door, and with a hand at the small of her back, urged her inside.

  Chloe gasped as she surveyed the tiled bathroom. In fact, she had to correct herself. It wasn’t a bathroom but a temple of pleasure. The blue Moroccan-tiled oasis was dominated by the biggest spa bath she’d ever seen. A walk-in shower with brass fittings and multiple showerheads stretched along one wall. A vanity with hammered-copper sinks sunk into an intricate tiled surface added to the faraway mysticism of the room. Shelves built into the wall housed a multitude of towels, plush and ready for use. An open door at the far end led to the toilet area.

  She turned back to Noah, now joined by Flynn, and shook her head.

  “Noah, it’s amazing. Heck, I’d never want to leave.” A place to hide, to gather her thoughts for a few minutes.

  “I’m glad you like it. Flynn and I designed it. We had the tiles made after seeing something similar during one of our tours.” Noah’s eyes roved over the glazed splashes of color as if remembering his travels and the inspiration they served.

  “It’s luxurious and far more than I was expecting. Are you sure you want me using these rooms?”

  “Yes.” Both men answered as one.

  She licked her lips against the vehemence of their answer.

  Flynn pushed past Noah and placed her overnight bag on the corner of the vanity. “Why don’t you change and get ready for bed. We’ll be outside.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  Noah closed the door behind them.

  She gazed at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were shadowed with exhaustion and tear-smeared mascara. The ragged edges of her appearance matched her thoughts. Tonight wasn’t the best time to make plans. Morning would come around soon enough. She undressed then donned her robe and removed her jewelry. After cleaning away all traces of makeup, she brushed out her hair and changed into her soft flannel pajamas. She smiled at the Sylvester the Cat design. Flynn wanted her here despite her crazy sense in nightwear.

  A further dig into her suitcase and her hand landed on a cottony ball. Yes, he’d packed socks. It was her thing. She couldn’t sleep in winter without a pair of socks warming her feet.

  With socks on, she opened the bathroom door, switched off the light and walked a few steps. The guys stood beside the bed, the covers turned down, pillows plumped and beckoning.

  A rush of shyness locked her feet to the carpet. What should she say? Wish them a quick good-night and usher them out the door?

  Noah closed the distance between them. He reached out, and his warm hand cupped her cheek. She swallowed against the contact.

  “You’ve had a big night, little one. Events have pushed us beyond the comfortable getting-to-know-you stage.” His hard features softened as he studied her face. “Come on, you need to get some sleep.” Noah held her hand in a loose grip and led her toward the bed.

  Maybe it was the warmth of Noah’s grip or the unhurried movements as Flynn smoothed out her bedding and smiled, but she felt safe and protected. “I can’t get the picture of my bedroom out of my head.” The words rushed out before she was aware she’d said them. But she’d pulled the stopper from the bottle, and they wouldn’t stop flowing. “The writing—S–so much anger.” Hatred. “At m–me.”

  The first sob shook her shoulders. The second was muffled against Noah’s chest as he lifted her into his arms. “It’s okay, luv. You’re safe.” He sat on the bed, his back resting on the pillows and headboard.

  She curled up against his solid strength and cried. For herself, her little house, and most of all for the loss of the hope she’d begun to feel about living in King’s Bluff.

  Her friendships with Purdy and Reagan, just at the trusting stage, were they lost, too? And Penny, blue eye shadow and all, who remembered her breakfast order like she belonged there. Her students, their bright, shiny faces greeting her every morning.

  Trent had found her. There was always the inevitability that would happen, but not this soon. And her fears, how could she tell these men? All that history with Trent was a tainted stain, corrupting everything it touched.

  She rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of Noah’s shirt. His spicy male scent comforted her, and her hands curled against the hardness of his chest. With a sigh dredged up from deep within, she pulled back. His arms eased their grip by a thin margin.

  Flynn lowered himself down to lay next to Noah and stretched her legs over his lap. His fingers brushed away the tear-dampened strands of hair stuck to her lashes. “Now you know why we insisted you come with us tonight. A man doesn’t abandon a woman. He protects her, cherishes her.”

  Hank had never cherished her mom, never protected her. Don’t be fooled, not like me. How many times had her mom issued that warning in those last drawn-out months of her illness?

  “I–I’ve never been protected. Not by a man.” The confession left a hollow ache in her chest.

  Flynn’s eyes darkened to charcoal. “Lady, that changes tonight.”

  A nervous laugh escaped. “Wouldn’t that be jumping into the fire?”

  “Little one, there’s nothing to be scared of. The last thing we’d ever want to do to you is hurt you.”

  Flynn patted the space between him and Noah. “Let us take care of you. All we want to do tonight is hold you and keep you safe.”

  To be cared for…could she even remember how that felt? Exhausted, her body and mind ready to shut down, Chloe did the unthinkable. She gave in.

  Without looking at either man, she climbed off Noah’s lap and lay down next to Flynn. In perfect unison, both men rose and removed their dress pants and jackets, folding them over the chest.

  Flynn adjusted the pillows behind her head. “We’ll keep our shirts and boxers on in an effort to protect our modesty.” His wink, coupled with the faint scar on his cheek, reminded her of a pirate captain.

  After catching a glimpse of honey-toned thighs sculpted by hard muscles, Chloe knew one thing. Never in the history of mankind had modesty been so overrated
.

  Noah lifted the sheets and blankets, each man ensuring she was comfy as they sheltered her between their warm bodies.

  She was comfortable, and that should be weird, right? She frowned and bit down on her lip. Heck, it wasn’t as if she jumped into bed with two men every day, clothed or not. Must be the exhaustion. Uh-huh. No way was it the result of a natural chemistry between the three of them.

  Flynn leaned in and stroked a finger over her forehead. “What are you thinking?”

  His butterscotch-smooth baritone was a good girl’s wet dream. She pressed her legs together against the tingle of her clit. Guilty heat warmed her cheeks.

  Oh boy, this is so not the time for getting horny.

  “Silly thoughts, nothing important. It’s been a long night. Well…umm, good-night.” She closed her eyes and ignored the soft chuckles reverberating around her.

  The light in the room dimmed as the men adjusted their bodies to encircle hers, their arms heavy across her stomach and hips, their legs brushing up against her own.

  Noah’s voice, committed and strong, flowed over her as she lay snugly between them. “You don’t know how much pleasure it gives us, little one, having you here. We’ll never let you go.” He lowered his head, his lips gentle yet insistent against hers, not letting up until he’d coaxed a response from her.

  Before she could formulate a comeback, Flynn’s lips replaced Noah’s, a little more demanding. His tongue swept her mouth before he lifted his head. “There’s no escape for you now. Consider yourself captured.”

  Captured. A delicious thrill shot up Chloe’s spine like the pop of a champagne cork, all fizz and tickles of delight. Bad, Chloe. At the beginning of this evening, her plan had been simple. Go on a date, be polite, and exit with grace. So much for plans. She had run from her past and landed straight in the bed of two men wishing to be her future. And her past was out there lurking, and judging by tonight’s efforts, impatient for a reunion.

  Chapter Seven

  “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”