I don’t want to pressure her. “It was okay.” I eat another forkful of the casserole, and the tastes of my childhood wash over me. My grandmother used to make something like this. “You know what? That’s a lie. It wasn’t okay. It was hard. It’s been three months since my mother died, and I should be coping better, but…”
“The milestones are hard,” she says softly. “I get it. I’ve been there.”
“How did you manage?”
She smiles a little. “People brought me casseroles. I’m paying it forward.”
“Thank you.” Belatedly, I realize I’m not being a great host. “Do you want a salad with this? There’s some lettuce in the garden, I think.” I grimace. “Unless it’s gone to seed.”
“I take it you’re not the gardener?”
“My mother was the one with the green thumb. I must take after my father, because I have killed a cactus.”
Her lips twitch. “Contrary to popular belief, it’s actually very easy to kill them,” she says. “They’re very sensitive to over-watering.”
“Are you a gardener?”
“No, I looked it up on the Internet.” She looks embarrassed. “After my cactus died.”
I burst out laughing. This is nice. Eating a meal with someone, talking about nothing in particular. I get up to grab the bottle of wine from the counter, and as I’m heading back to the table, the doorbell rings.
Dixie looks horrified. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask you if you were expecting company.”
“I’m not.” I crane my head to catch a glimpse of the security display, and I’m surprised all over again. “It’s Eric.”
Eric holds up a bottle of Scotch when I open the door. “Eighteen-year Aberlour,” he says. “A client gave it to me for Christmas. Seems like a good day to break into it.” He tilts his head to Dixie’s car. “Unless I’m intruding.”
“Don’t be ridiculous; you’re not. I didn’t know she was coming over.” I throw him a look over my shoulder. “I didn’t know you were coming over either.”
“You know me, I don’t like to drink alone.”
That’s bullshit—he came over because he remembered what day it was. Once again, I find myself overcome with emotion. “Thanks for dropping by.”
He flashes me a smile. “No worries, buddy. It seemed like the least I could do. Hi, Dixie. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Eric,” Dixie replies, her voice flat. “I didn’t expect to see you here either.”
She sounds stilted, and he looks strained. What’s going on with them? I have no time to ask—my doorbell rings again.
What the hell?
I head to the front door. This time, it’s Xavier standing on the step. He’s also holding a bottle of Scotch. He recognizes both cars parked in the driveway, of course. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have company,” he says. “Am I intruding?”
“No, Xavier, we’re having raw animal sex on the kitchen counter,” I retort. Damn it, I shouldn’t have said it, because now I’m picturing it. It’s that damn ruffled skirt. I’m never going to be able to see Dixie wearing it without flashing back to the first time we’d hooked up. “Come on in. Join us.”
“Fiona, Adrian, and Brody are right behind me,” he says. I stop and stare at him, and he shrugs uncomfortably. “What? None of us wanted you to be alone today.”
Sure enough, my friends pull in the driveway and hop out. Brody is holding a pan of brownies. “Xavier said he had the booze covered,” he tells me.
“You baked?”
“Hey, I have hidden talents.”
Fiona chuckles. “It’s from a box.” She hugs me. “How’s it going, Hunter?”
“I’m doing okay.”
And you know what? As I stand in a corner of the kitchen and watch my friends settle around the table, I realize something that I’ve allowed my grief to blind me to. I’m not alone. My mother was the last of my blood relatives, but family is far more than the people you’re related to.
These people here—my friends—they’re family. I would walk over burning coals for them. My gaze sweeps over them, and then it lands on Dixie. She’s listening to something Fiona is saying, her head bent, and she must feel me staring, because she looks up and flashes me a quick smile.
My heart stops.
It hits me with the force of a thunderclap. My world would be incomplete without Dixie Ketcham. Fuck me, I’ve caught feelings. I’ve fallen in love with her.
28
Dixie
I thought things were bad when Xavier walked in. But then Fiona enters the kitchen, with Brody and Adrian not far behind. When she catches sight of me there, surprise slaps her face.
Oh crap—can the ground open up under my feet?
I’m never going to live this down. Ever.
Fiona recovers quickly. “Hello, Dix,” she says, hugging me in greeting. Then she turns to Eric. “Eric, it's been forever. How are you?”
When in doubt about what to do, feed people. I jump to my feet and grab a handful of plates. There is just enough of the casserole to go around. Hunter takes a look at the situation and gets on the phone to order pizza. Another bottle of wine is opened. Extra chairs are found so everyone can sit around the table. Scotch is poured. Soon, the group is laughing and chatting, eating chicken noodle casserole and pizza, and drinking wine (me), Scotch (Eric, Hunter, Xavier, and Adrian), and beer (Brody and Fiona).
I’m mostly quiet as I sip my Merlot. The people I’m sleeping with are in this room, as are the people I want to avoid. After this afternoon, I didn’t really want to see Eric, and here he is. Seeing him sitting at the table, his legs stretched out in front of him, sipping his Scotch with an expression of pleasure on his face, heat pools in me. Then he catches me looking at him, and he smiles warmly, and pain stabs my heart.
Then there’s Xavier. Thankfully, the conversation is animated, and nobody notices my silence. If Xavier says something to me, I might scream. My emotions are still too raw, my disappointment too immediate and real. If I get a minute alone with him, I might say something I regret. Something like, ‘if I'm not in the running for the COO job, the least you could do is tell me.’
And then he’d fire me. And I’d be polishing up my resume.
For almost an hour, I manage to avoid Fiona too, but my reprieve doesn't last. She corners me outside the washroom. “Let's go outside for a bit,” she suggests.
We step out into the backyard. I’m in no hurry to have this conversation, and I wait for her to broach the subject. “So,” she says, a big smile on her face. “You and Eric and Hunter. I should have known that your protests seemed too vehement. How did this happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on, Dixie,” she says impatiently. “Remember brunch, about a week ago, when you told us the story of how you met them? You thought they were assaulting a woman, interrupted their scene, and told them they had small cocks.” She tilts her head to a side. “You left out a very pertinent piece of information. You didn’t tell us you were dating them.”
“I’m not dating them.”
“Explain.”
Fiona is a private investigator. One way or the other, she is going to worm the truth out of me. “I wasn't lying about the way we met,” I murmur. “But we've since made peace. We've moved past that first meeting.”
“Evidently.” She flashes a smile in my direction. “I'm excited for you, I really am. You’re awesome, and Eric and Hunter are great guys. I like them a lot, and so do Adrian and Brody, and you know how sparing they are about their stamps of approval.” She gives me a curious look. “You said you weren’t dating them. Is this a casual thing?”
“Yes.”
Her brow furrows. “Can I ask why?”
That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? “I'm pretty sure they don't want to be in a relationship,” I tell her. “Hunter is still reeling from the death of his mother, and Eric…” My voice trails off. I don’t want to gossip about Eric’s ex-girlfriend. He told
me about her in confidence. “Well, Eric has his own reasons to not be with somebody as vanilla as me.”
She snorts a laugh. “Vanilla? Dixie, if you're sleeping with two guys at the same time, you’re well past vanilla. Do you think kink is just whips and chains? Sure, that works for some people—I'm one of them—but that's not the only way. It's obvious that the three of you have found at least a few areas of mutual interest.” She surveys me for a long second. “Those are their reasons for not being in a relationship with you. What are yours?”
I wish I knew. “You have relationship brain,” I tell her. “Just because the three of you are ridiculously happy doesn’t mean—”
“Please,” she cuts in. “Give me some credit, Dix. I’m not matching people up for the hell of it. But I’ve been watching the three of you for an hour, and I don’t know if anyone’s pointed it out to you, but you can’t take your eyes off each other. The attraction is pretty damn clear.”
Argh. Private investigators.
“I just don't see this as being right for me.” Even as those words leave my mouth, I know it’s a lie. Being with William felt wrong. Sleeping with two guys at the same time might have been outside my comfort zone but being with Hunter and Eric has always felt right. I've never once felt uncomfortable or uneasy.
“I mean,” I continue. “Can you really see me pull something like this off? Me?”
“It's not how I see you that's relevant,” Fiona responds gently. “It's how you see yourself.”
I wish that she had a different answer for me. I wish she’d come out and say, ‘Yes, Dixie, I think you should be in a threesome. You can handle it.’
Of course, she’s never going to do that. Fiona can't make my decisions for me. I have to make this choice on my own.
“I should focus on work.” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince, Fiona or myself. “That’s what’s important. That’s what I’m good at.”
Except that’s not true either. I’m hardly making a success of my career. My time at Rollins, Atterby & Rourke was a disaster, and it looks like I’m on a rapid path to nowhere at Leforte.
Fiona frowns. “Why not both?”
“It’s not that easy, is it? You work for yourself, so your lifestyle doesn't really matter. But I don't.”
She rolls her eyes. “You work for a billionaire that owns a sex club. Xavier is hardly going to judge you for being in a threesome.”
“No, but he’s not the only one there.”
She gives me a pointed look. “You're in your thirties, Dixie. All your life, you've lived according to the rules.” Her fingers form air quotes around the word rules. “Has it made you happy? At what point are you going to start living for yourself? You know what I saw when I walked into Hunter’s kitchen? I saw my friend looking truly radiant.”
She’s not wrong. I have been happy. But this isn’t real life. It’s an interlude.
The patio door slides open, and Hunter emerges. His eyes rest on me for a moment. “We’re about to dive into the brownies,” he says. “I figured I should warn the two of you. If you want some, you better go inside before we eat it all.”
Fiona laughs. “Thanks for the heads-up, Hunter.” She hurries inside. Through the glass doors, I see Brody hold up a brownie to her, a teasing expression on his face. Adrian watches them both, a small smile playing on his lips.
I feel a pang of longing. I wish I could be braver. Be more like Fiona. Instead, I’m a coward. I don’t dare confront Xavier about the job. I haven’t told Hira I’m sleeping with Eric, and worst of all, I can’t bring myself to admit that I have feelings for both men.
“Hey,” Hunter says, wrapping his arm around my waist. “You doing okay?”
I force a smile on my face. “Yeah. I'm fine.”
“Thank you again for coming here tonight.”
He's looking down at me. There’s warmth in his gaze, and appreciation, and possibly something more, but I can't face up to that. I avert my gaze instead, stand on tiptoe, and brush a kiss over his lips. “I was happy to.”
“Everyone is going to leave soon. Fiona, Adrian, and Brody are going to spend the night at the castle and head back to DC early in the morning. Xavier's just called his driver to pick them up.”
“Xavier has a driver?” That momentarily startles me. “Never mind, of course he does.”
“He’ll give you a ride back to your place if you’ve had too much to drink,” Hunter says. “Or you can spend the night.” He pauses for a long moment. “I would like you to spend the night.”
I shouldn't have come here—that blurred the lines. Now I'm thinking of staying, and that's even worse. Hunter’s invitation makes me want the things I cannot have.
My Dare List is almost completely crossed off. All that's left is double penetration and anal sex. The biggies. And then what? If I want more from them, I’m going to have to ask for it.
I thought I could break the chokehold William’s words had on my psyche, but I don’t think I can. It’s too late for me to change. Too late for me to be somebody else.
I’m going to have to end this thing with Eric and Hunter. Soon. Before I get my heart broken.
Too late for that, Dix.
I've resisted spending nights with them. No beds. No staying over. Nothing that could remotely be construed as a relationship. Just once, I want to throw all caution to the wind.
One night. The last night.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I'll stay.”
29
Eric
Something's wrong with Dixie, and I know what it is. Her demeanor changed the moment Fiona walked into the room.
Fiona and Dixie are friends. Dixie hasn’t told anyone about Hunter and me, and now one of her closest friends knows. The cat is out of the bag, and Dixie is freaking out.
And it hurts. It feels like someone’s repeatedly punching my heart.
Last week, I would have asked myself why I kept falling for women who didn’t want to be with me. Last week, I would have asked myself what the fuck is wrong with me.
But I’m past that point now. I’ve fallen in love with Dixie Ketcham.
I want more than casual sex. I want a relationship.
She might not feel the same way. Judging from her reaction, she most likely doesn’t. But I’m still going to tell her how I feel. She’s the most important person in my life, and I refuse to give up without a fight.
Hunter comes up to me. He nods in the direction of the backyard, where Fiona and Dixie are deep in conversation. “What do you think the two of them are talking about?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask, a trace of bitterness seeping into my voice. “She’s getting ready to bolt.”
“And?” Hunter asks. “Would that bother you?”
“Yes, of course it would.” I give him a sidelong look. “It’s not casual for me. Not anymore.”
“Me neither,” he admits. He shuts his eyes for a moment, and then he nods decisively, as if he’s made up his mind about something. “I’m going to ask her to spend the night. You in?”
It’s a question about more than tonight. My answer comes without hesitation. “Yes.”
Hunter slips out to talk to Dixie. Xavier gets to his feet, slightly unsteady. Just as well he’s not driving. “You good there, buddy?”
“It’s not the Scotch,” he grumbles. “It’s the jetlag. My body doesn’t know if it’s coming or going.”
And it’s going to stay that way for the foreseeable future, as long as Layla lives in Thailand.
That reminds me. With everything going on, I’ve forgotten all about Kevin Hughes. “We have a lead,” I tell Xavier. “Dixie found it. Remember that charity auction you hosted in December? Zephyrus reimbursed Summit a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the event space.”
“No, that can’t be right,” he says, immediately alert, a shark sensing blood. “It should have been comped.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Kevin Hughes called Summit’s accounting department and told
them you’d approved the transaction.”
Xavier’s expression hardens. “And they took his word for it?”
“No. They checked with Pierre, who yelled at them for wasting his time.” Xavier looks stricken, and I pat his back. “If it makes you feel better, I really don’t think Valade was framing you. Hughes took advantage of his incompetence.”
“Not a lot, no. Hughes isn’t acting alone. Someone else is pulling the strings here.” His voice is grim. “I intend to find out who.” He glances at me. “Thank you, Eric.”
“It’s not me you should be thanking. It’s Dixie. I wouldn’t have got anywhere without her help. I know I’m biased here, but give her the damn job, Xavier. You’re not going to find a better Chief Operating Officer.”
“You might be biased?” There’s a trace of amusement in his voice. “Didn’t you tell me this was casual?”
He’s baiting me, and I refuse to bite. “Fuck off.”
He laughs shortly. “I’m assuming you’re busy tonight?” He doesn’t wait for me to reply. “I want to talk to Hughes tomorrow.”
“You’re driving to DC?”
“The chopper is faster.”
I shake my head wryly. Billionaires. They’re not like the rest of us mortals. I do okay—hell, I do a lot better than okay—but Xavier’s in a different league entirely. “Of course it is.”
“You know the specifics of what Kevin did,” he says. “I’d like you to come along. Meet me at the castle at ten?”
He’s being deliberately inscrutable. I’m ninety percent sure he’s going to make Dixie his new chief operating officer. No, higher than that. Ninety-nine percent. I could ask him outright what he’s planning to do, but that’ll give him too much pleasure. “Eleven.”
Once everyone’s gone, Hunter firmly declines Dixie’s offer to help him tidy up. “I’ll deal with this in the morning,” he says. “I have better things to do tonight.”
“You do?” Her voice is falsely cheerful. “Things like what?”
Daring Dixie Page 18