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Conor didn’t have to worry about the end.
Because Luca had found his forever.
Chapter Ten
Harper popped a jelly bean into her mouth as she stepped into the cabin and looked around, equal parts impressed and amused by their surroundings. The impressed part was how cozy and homey this little cabin in the woods was. The amusement was solely driven by the horrified look on Conor’s face.
“Where’s the rest of it?” he asked.
“No worries, city boy. There’s no outhouse.” Luca, oblivious to Conor’s concern, pointed to a closed door toward the back corner. “Bathroom is through there.”
Harper tried not to laugh, but the way Conor’s frown grew more pronounced was just too damn funny. Her laughter captured the attention of both men.
“I think this is called roughing it,” she said to Conor.
His scowl lightened a little when he realized he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his opinion of the place. “I offered to put us up in a five-star hotel,” he pointed out. “In New York City.”
Luca scoffed. “There’s no way a five-star is going to compete with this. Come here.” He led Conor back through the door to stand on the front porch. “Draw in a long, deep breath, man.” Luca placed his hand on Conor’s shoulder. “Smell that?”
Conor shook his head. “I don’t smell anything.”
“That’s right. You don’t. Because what you’re not smelling is garbage, smog, and greasy hot dogs floating in tepid water.”
“Mmm. Hot dogs,” Harper joked.
“Brat.” Luca ruffled her hair playfully before turning his attention back to Conor. “What you are smelling, my sexy nerd, is fresh, clean mountain air. There’s nothing like it.”
Conor smirked. “Fine. Odorless air. Got it. But I feel like I need to repeat my original question.” He turned, pointing into the cabin. “Where’s the rest of it?”
This time, Luca understood and, like her, he was amused. Tilting his head toward Harper, Luca shrugged nonchalantly. “What she said. We’re roughing it.”
“I love it.” Harper walked farther inside, dropping her overnight bag on the floor, as Luca and Conor walked the five steps necessary to travel from the front door to the kitchen, where they put down the bags of groceries.
She popped another jelly bean, wincing at the taste. “Oh fuck.”
Luca and Conor turned around quickly, alarmed.
“What’s wrong?” Luca asked.
“Blech. I just ate a toasted marshmallow one. Disgusting.” She looked at the bag of jelly beans and scowled. “A mixed bag of Jelly Bellys is a goddamn war crime.” Then she tossed another jelly bean in her mouth and smiled. “Mmm. Strawberry Daiquiri. All better.”
Both men laughed, returning to the groceries as Harper drifted five steps in the opposite direction, to the area designated as the living room. She studied the entire place, which was complete with what she assumed were standard Cabin 101 prerequisites—rough-hewn floorboards, log walls, a handmade quilt on the bed, and a fireplace with a soft bearskin rug in front of it.
Luca noticed her attention was focused on the bed.
“I didn’t think you guys would have a problem with us sharing the one bed, since I made it pretty obvious this was going to be a weekend hookup,” Luca said.
Harper snorted. “Like we haven’t been doing that practically every night for the past two weeks.”
Following their prom night—which seriously ranked at the top of the most thoughtful gestures ever—the three of them had established a routine.
And by routine, she meant they’d regressed right back to their “first love” teen years, texting and talking on the phone all day, counting down every minute until they saw each other again. In the past two weeks, they’d returned to Conor’s penthouse seven times for sex, dinner, sex, then sleep.
Seven times!
If Luca had gotten his way, they would have spent all fourteen nights together, but Conor insisted he needed to work some nights, which made sense considering he oversaw the management of a nightclub.
Even so, it had been seven nights of so many orgasms, Harper’s clit felt like it had a permanent pulse. Her guys kept her so primed and ready with their sexts and stolen kisses whenever she stopped by their work during the day—because she couldn’t wait until quitting time to see them—that she was starting to think a light breeze could make her come.
