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“I’m happy to be here. We all are. Thank you again for the invitation.”
“Oh, it’s our pleasure. It was a great excuse to see you again. Not to mention meet the men in your life.”
Priest glanced our way, and his expression shifted from soft to possessive. It was subtle, but the eyes, those stormy grey eyes, never lied. “And I’m pleased to introduce them. Ace, Dylan, my husbands. Robbie, the unusually shy one, and Julien.”
When both Ace and Dylan looked in our direction, my breath caught at the sheer beauty of them. It was like something out of a movie.
“Bonjour.” Julien, charming and suave as always, stepped forward to greet both men, which left me a mute onlooker.
It was so weird. I was never stuck for words, never this shy, but when Ace glanced my way and winked, my breath got caught and I took great interest in the fact that I wished I had worn my pink leather loafers, not these boring beige ones.
“I’ve got to say, I might pay Ace to come hang out at the Popped Cherry if it renders you mute for a night.”
Logan.
It was a rare day that anyone could take the spotlight off Logan Mitchell, but today was that day. I glared over my shoulder to see him and Tate grinning at me like fools and mouthed, Shut up. They started to laugh. Idiots.
“Why don’t you come inside?” Ace suggested, and gestured to the open door. “Maybe after brunch I could give you a tour, Robbie.”
Priest and Julien were both looking at me, and I could feel my face flush from Ace’s use of my name. But when Logan and Tate laughed even harder at my freak-out, something inside me clicked.
Right, that was it. I was standing in front of Ace friggin’ Locke, and was about to walk inside his house and have brunch with him and his hot husband, for God’s sake. Pull it together, Robbie.
I tilted my chin up, straightened my shoulders, and stepped up to our famous hosts for the morning, then I graced them both with my most winning smile, trying for some of my usual pizazz.
“There’s nothing I’d enjoy more than coming inside your house.” Then I gave a flirty wink to my husbands and decided to let them do with that whatever they wanted to. After all, this was their own fault.
“Funny,” Dylan said as he hooked his arm through my elbow and guided me through the open door. “I said something just like that to Ace the first night I showed up at this place.”
“You did?” I asked, feeling an instant sense of camaraderie with Dylan.
“I did. Up in his bedroom, I believe.”
“The first night?”
“Mhmm. It was his birthday party, there were hundreds of people, including my own date—”
“Dylan…” Ace said in warning, much like Priest had with me. But luckily, Dylan and I were becoming fast friends—he ignored his husband. Good man.
“What? It’s true,” he said as he led me through an enormous foyer and past a sweeping staircase.
My eyes widened as we entered a dining room fit for the Christmas issue of O, the Oprah magazine. “This place looks amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Dylan walked me around to a seat by the one at the head of the table. “This is you.”
I thanked him and watched as he gestured for Julien and Priest to take the two seats beside me. Logan was at the other end of the table—thank God—and Tate and Dylan took the seats opposite us.
That meant that—
“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”
—Ace was sitting right next to me. As in, our feet could touch under the table. Not that I was about to play footsie with him. He was a married man. I was married twice over. But seriously, Ace Locke was sitting next to me.
“Would you like a drink, Robbie?”
I glanced up guiltily to find Dylan looking at me, and nodded. “Yes. God yes. The stronger the better.”
He chuckled and glanced around the rest of the table, and after everyone was taken care of, he disappeared through a set of doors I assumed led to the kitchen. Not a second later, a young man came out with a tray of mimosas. Mine didn’t even have a chance to touch the tablecloth before I took a long gulp of the drink as a loud bang came from behind the doors.
We all looked toward them, and then Julien said, “Uh, should I go and help him, maybe?”
“No way.” Ace chuckled. “He’s been looking forward to serving you all day. If you go in there, he might drop the breakfast tarts on the floor. But don’t tell him I told you that.”
Ah, so it seemed I wasn’t the only nervous one in the midst today. I wondered if Dylan was in there guzzling down his own mimosa.
