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It’s strange; he sounds so vulnerable. Vulnerable enough that I’m rethinking macing him in the face… at least as much as the others. “You seriously expect me to believe that three men who look like you don’t know how to ask women out? Seriously? You guys must really think I’m stupid.”
He’s quiet for a second, then says, “You do know that regardless of what we look like, we need to find a woman attractive too before we ask her out.”
“And, what, I’m the first woman you’ve seen in your lives?”
He gives a snort laugh. “Hardly, but you’re one of the first we’ve wanted to ask out.”
“All of you?” I ask, starting to feel less like Xena and more like every heroine in a Shakespearean comedy. “All three of you want to take me on a date… together? Me?”
I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, it’s weird, but it was either we all go out with you, or we all fight each other for you. We settled on this.”
He must really not want to get maced and kicked in the crotch to be saying all of this. I mean, I don’t blame him, but still, the boy has an imagination.
“So all three of you just desperately wanted a piece of this?”
“Yes,” the blond rasps from the ground, but the good boy stays where he is. Unfortunately for my crotch kicking foot. “The second we smelled you… saw you, we had to have you.”
“In the trunk of your car?”
“We’re attracted to you, you crazy woman!” Brax shouts, still holding his crotch. “My God, it’s like you’ve never been asked out before!”
Someone is a little moody, for reasons unrelated to my crotch kicking boot, I’m sure. “I’ve been asked out plenty of times, I’ll have you know. I’ve been ridden enough that they couldn’t even list me in fair condition.”
Brax actually groans. “There’s no way she’s spoken to men before.”
“Or maybe she’s spoken to the wrong men before,” Asher says, a little anger edging his voice.
Brax’s watery gaze meets mine. “Is that what this is about? Have some men been assholes to you before? Because we’d be willing to hunt them down and kill them.”
That’s unexpectedly sweet, but I won’t be distracted. “No, this isn’t about the assholes I’ve dated, although, yeah, I have dated a few of them. This is about three big men approaching me in a dark parking lot.”
“I believe we’ve established that was stupid,” Trent says, and I’m pretty sure he’s getting closer to me. Almost in mace range.
“Careful…” I tell him, aiming right at him.
Trent gave another loud sigh. “What about this… That bar across the street, we’ll go there, and if you want to join us, head over. No pressure. We’ll be there, in a brightly lit public place, just waiting. And if you decide not to come, that’s okay too. Guys?”
“Is she going to kick us or mace us again?” Brax asks, more than a little grumpy.
“Not if you’re moving away from me,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes.
The two guys on the ground get up slowly, then very deliberately walk away from me. One of them is limping a little, but both have puffy faces and rubbing their eyes like they’re trying to start a fire. The third man joins them, but I can feel him glancing back at me.
As I watch them moving away from me, I feel strangely alone and disappointed, and like maybe my shoot first ask questions later approach to life wasn’t the best way to handle this situation. Which, to be honest, has gotten me into trouble before tonight.
Lowering my mace, I just stare at their retreating forms. I remember the moment they walked in the door and the attraction that hit me like a brick when I saw them. It’s quite possible that these are the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life, and my one chance for a foursome that I’ll think about with fondness when I’m old and my lady bits are hanging close to my ankles. What’s more, they seemed genuinely nice.
Nice and hot. A lethal combination.
They walk across the street, reach the bar, and I swear, they look back at me before they disappear inside. I put my mace back in my bag and head to my car, feeling more than a little glum. Maybe I was wrong? The thought keeps circling around in my head. Men who had planned to abduct me and eat my flesh in their sandwiches probably wouldn’t have walked away right now. That idea just makes me feel worse, but my mean brain isn’t done. And nice guys who were hoping to take me on a date probably wouldn’t be interested in me after I maced them and kicked their crotches.
Correction, only one crotch was kicked. But still…
Turning on my car, I sit there for a minute. I’d finished all my packing last night. It was all sitting by the door of my apartment, ready to be loaded into my car the next morning. All my furniture and other big items had been sold. So, basically, right now I’d be hurrying home to go sleep on the floor. I was fine with it before, knowing I had an early morning, so why am I hesitating now?
Releasing a slow breath, I decide that a couple of drinks won’t hurt, if they’re still willing to hang out with me. Then I’ll head home, ready to start my new life.
A couple of drinks never hurt anyone, right?
