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The conversations near them died. Perhaps he'd raised his voice more than intended. A habit in court, where he'd enunciate his words more precisely if the point was more emphatic. The word whore did tend to carry.
Predictably, his attitude and words had pushed the It's time to start a fight button in the testosterone arsenal of the drunk threesome. While admittedly Geoff felt more than ready, he knew that was the wrong play. He was a moron, but it was a late news flash as they rose out of the chairs.
"I didn't call no one a whore. But she is fucking both of you, right?"
"We're done here." Geoff shouldered past him with a sneer, only to be stopped by Kent, who was built beefy, just like Dave. Now he had one in front and one behind, one to the side. Walled in. He was usually smarter than this. Okay, Chris would probably say he wasn't, given they'd met when Geoff had been about to be pounded by a gang of kids for shooting off his mouth. What made him a good lawyer now had qualified him as a punching bag in middle school.
Where was a club bouncer when you needed one?
"Excuse me."
The men stopped and turned, blinking. Sam stood outside the tense circle, Chris behind her. Geoff cursed at her tight, pale expression, because it told him they'd arrived in time to get the gist of the argument. Despite that, she looked calm, which was more than he could say for Chris. His friend had also heard the conversation, because he had the demeanor of a bull about to gore a sparkly matador with extreme prejudice. Geoff wondered how Sam had gotten in front of him. From how resolute she looked, she must have insisted bodily.
"Yes, we share a bed. The three of us." She squared off with Dave. "I'm in love with both of them, and they're in love with me. It's taken us way too long to admit no one makes us as happy as one another. I'm not going to turn my back on that or break my heart in half by choosing just one, no matter what the world thinks of me for feeling that way."
Her gaze met Geoff's, making it clear the message was more for him and Chris than their audience. Unexpectedly, it helped settle him. She was right. Who gave two shits what the world thought?
"Atta girl." A group of girls sitting in a ring on the floor nearby raised their beer cups. The one who'd spoken had golden hair and lively blue eyes and wore a snug Appalachian State T-shirt. She wasn't quite as hammered as the three men, but her friends were riding enough of a beer buzz to cheer. While that was likely more of a response to the fantasy of a threesome than the strength of Sam's declaration, it still helped defuse the tension.
"Kent, come sit over here with us," the blonde said. "Stop being dicks."
Kent, obviously amenable to the call of a pretty face, turned his attention to the only thing that could replace a hormonal college male's desire to brawl. Unfortunately, Dave wasn't willing to let it go. He gestured with his beer, sloshing some over his hand. "What does that make you two guys? Some sword crossing happens, I'll bet." He looked at Chris belligerently, jerking his head toward Geoff. "Is this skinny prick your bitch, big guy?"
Hearing Dave refer to Chris the way Geoff often did himself unleashed an unexpected spike of possessive temper. "No," Geoff said, stepping toe to toe with Dave and staring him down. "He's an unneutered Rottweiler who'll rip out your throat if he feels like you're pissing on his territory. And she's his territory. As well as mine. So back the fuck off and learn some manners."
Chris had moved around Sam and was breathing down Dave's neck. He also shot Brad a warning look that had the slighter man looking far less certain about Dave's attitude.
"Come on, Dave," Kent called over. "Don't be an ass. You're going to get us thrown out of here."
"Whatever, man," Dave said, though his hackles were still obviously up. He sidled out from between Geoff and Chris and tossed them a glare. "Duck's a duck, no matter what you dress it up as and call it. We aren't the only ones who thought it, so no need to get pissy." He stomped over to the group, Brad trailing behind.
Chris growled, but Geoff put a hand on his chest. "Leave it," he said quietly.
Despite her excellent and emphatic delivery, Sam was looking a little too pensive for his taste now. Geoff closed his hand on hers, drawing her gaze.
"Let's go hit the floor for a couple more numbers before we call it a night," he suggested.
He wanted to call it a night right now. Sam could be a lot tougher than anyone expected, a bitch on wheels when needed. But there was a kindness to her that always seemed unprepared for someone to be mean to her. Like Anthony.
She nodded, a docile acceptance, but not the kind he liked. Shifting his grip to the back of her neck, he pulled her to him with a decisive move that made her look up at him with startled eyes. Since Chris could pick up on her change of mood as fast as he could, Geoff screwed his hand in Chris's shirtfront to hold on to him. It wouldn't take much for their Rottweiler to bare fangs and charge the men who'd upset Sam.
"They're drunk, young and stupid," Geoff repeated, low. He met Chris's fiery eyes. "Fighting with them is not the way, Chris. Making her feel better is what matters most, right? Plus, if you fight with them, I have to jump into the fray. If I get arrested, I could lose my license. We take care of each other. That's what we do. Right?"
The rage vibrating from Chris didn't turn off, but he did push it back into his gut enough to nod. He put his hand on Geoff's forearm, clasping it. It told Geoff they'd reclaimed that accord they did so well, even in their most tense moments.
"But no more dancing," Chris said. "Let's just get out of here. I don't care about making a point to a bunch of dumbass kids."
A valid observation. When Sam agreed, Geoff tightened his fingers on her waist. "All right, then. Let's go."
***
The car trip home was quiet. In darkness, their cottage was a small brown mushroom sitting on its pilings. The creek created whispers of sound, secret gurgles in the dark. Geoff saw Sam stop to inhale the forest scents as she stepped out of the car. But then she turned and moved through the gate to the front door without speaking.
Chris's shoulders and expression were tense. As he followed her, Geoff brought up the rear, thoughtful. Since he had the key, he touched Chris's shoulder, a tacit direction to move back so he could get past him. He caressed the small of Sam's back, reaching past her to unlock the door.
As he held it for her, he tilted his head at Chris, directing him to go in ahead of him. When Chris closed the distance between him and Sam again, Geoff noticed he touched her almost exactly where Geoff had, that universal protective reassurance, man to woman. Sam tilted her head, acknowledging it, but once inside, she left them, walking into the living room. It had deep brown paneling and eclectic hunting decorations mixed with needlepoint and lace curtains. Geoff wondered that Merry hadn't updated the place since she'd bought it as a rental investment, but he expected the decor was part of its quirky charm for renters who were looking less for typical amenities and more of an unscripted travel diary experience.
Given their own uncharted course, it was a fitting setting for the three of them. Sam stood in front of the double windows, staring through the glass. Because of the solar lights that etched the back edge of the property on the other side of the creek, there was a reflection on the water that flickered over her face.
