Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Ryker blinks, confusion crossing his blue eyes, which is all kinds of ironic. “Wait. Both—”
Before he can say at the same time, I say, “Yes.”
Five minutes later, he’s cracking up, his forehead in his hand. When he lifts his face, he says, “Was it something in the water when we were kids?”
“Clearly,” I say.
“Like brother, like sister,” Grandma says.
Ryker stops laughing and fixes me with a serious stare. “But if either of them hurts you, I will kill them. Also, athletes can be trouble.”
My grandmother snorts. “Ryker, are you a self-loathing athlete? Do you think athletes make terrible boyfriends?”
“No. But imagine how bad it’ll be when something goes wrong,” he says evenly.
“Bad for team morale?” I ask.
“That. But mostly bad for Hayes’s face,” Ryker says, his tone so dry I can’t truly tell if he’s serious. “And Stefan’s.”
I laugh. But only a little. “You don’t mean that.”
He drags a hand across his beard, his gaze softening. “Look, I don’t trust most people. I especially don’t trust guys.”
I nod, understanding him implicitly.
“Mom stuck around too long because she was afraid to leave. I don’t want that happening to you,” he adds, full of concern.
I get where he’s coming from. But I have to make my own choices. “I trust them,” I say.
That’s a little terrifying to say and a little wonderful at the same time.
My grandmother smiles genuinely. “Good. That’s what matters most.”
So is the fact that I simply don’t have to make any decisions about the future of my relationship today. But soon, I will.
41
HER MEN
Hayes
“I need a photo of this. You two look like twins.” The declaration comes from Ivy as she enters the kitchen from the bedroom that weekend, smirking at me, then at Stefan.
“We do not,” I say, plucking at my newish burgundy golf shirt.
Stefan stares down at his navy one, scoffing. “If we do, it’s because you dressed us, sweetheart. You picked out these clothes.”
“And I had fun,” she says, squaring her shoulders as she closes the distance between us. She bought me this shirt yesterday, since I didn’t have one that fit. I’ve bulked up over the summer and haven’t grabbed a new one yet. “And you both look good.”
She smooths a hand over the collar of my shirt even though it doesn’t need smoothing. I stare at her hand on me. Looks too fucking right. Feels too good. Too bad she stops to tap her finger against her lips. “Maybe I should even do a new post titled How to find a sexy golf outfit secondhand. Pretty clothes for—”
She stops short. I can hear my men forming on her lips, but then she swallows it.
I glance over at Stefan, and something warm sparks in my chest. Not for him, of course. But for…I’m not sure. Maybe moments like this? With the three of us together? Is that what I’m longing for?
Maybe.
We feel like a team in some strange way, getting ready for the event together. But before I linger too long on that thought, I nod toward the couch where a wrapped gift waits for…our woman.
“And since you picked our clothes, we get to pick yours,” I say.
“We are excellent at shopping too,” Stefan, my partner in crime, adds.
Ivy gestures to the flouncy red dress she’s wearing, shooting us a quizzical look. “I already picked my dress. I’m not golfing, so I don’t have to wear golf pants.”
I step forward, tugging up the skirt of her dress. She’s wearing white cotton panties. “Did I say we got you a dress?”
Her lips part. “Oh.”
Stefan heads to the living room. “We got you something we can play with later,” he says, then returns with a white box with a red bow.
When she opens the box and tugs out a pair of red lace panties with a tiny wearable vibrator built into the fabric, her breath catches.
“Put it in your purse. We’ll tell you when to put the panties on,” Stefan says, then dips his hand into his pocket, brandishing the remote and handing it to me. “And then we’ll decide when to turn you on.”
With a glossy look in her eyes, she complies, tucking the gift inside her purse where, I hope, it’ll set her on fire all day long.
We leave, and Ivy looks like she’s already turned on.
We arrive together at the golf course, but I feel off. It’s strange to step out of my car with my wife and my buddy. I feel like a liar. Well, I am a liar. I’ve been faking everything.
Have you, though, man?
That’s the thing. After the valet takes our clubs out of the car, then drives off to park it, we walk to the clubhouse, but I feel like I’m faking something. And it’s no longer the marriage to Ivy.
It’s the truth of who we are behind closed doors. I hate kissing her goodbye at the entrance to the clubhouse when Stefan’s not doing the same. This course is owned by Wilder Blaine, who also owns the Renegades football team in this city. The billionaire has a young daughter, so he wanted this place to be more family-friendly and he added a mini-golf course for kids. Since Ivy doesn’t play regular golf, she made plans with Trina to play mini golf while we’re here, but I feel like shit watching her walk away after kissing her.