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Natches shook his head. “She was engaged for awhile. Guess it fell through. ”
Rowdy almost breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation had moved from Kelly. He was going to have to figure this out. Now wasn’t a time to be hedging between desires, dammit. But he was hedging, and he knew it.
He glanced at Crista Jansen again, narrowing his eyes. Dawg had had a thing for the other woman for years. She had always managed to resist his charms, his attempts to talk to her, to seduce here.
Rowdy and Natches had watched him attempt to bargain for a single date from her for nearly a year before they joined th
e Marines, and Natches had related that the first thing Dawg had gone looking for when he came home from the service was Crista. Only to learn she had left Somerset.
Could he fuck her? Rowdy turned his gaze back to the Formica-topped table and sipped from his coffee again. A year ago, he could have, easily. The thought of having her between himself and his two cousins would have had his dick perking in interest.
His dick wasn’t interested. He frowned. Hell, there was no excitement, period. He stared back at her.
She was pretty enough. Nicely rounded. She moved a little self-consciously, as though not quite comfortable with what she was doing.
Her face was a rounded oval, her skin clear and silky-looking. Nice hair. But he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t aroused. As a matter of fact, the urge to get up and leave the café was so damned strong it was all he could do to stay in place.
He should have been practically drooling at the thought of helping Dawg and Natches fuck her to oblivion. They were sure as hell hot enough at the thought of fucking Kelly.
“Can I get you two anything else?” Crista refilled the coffee cup, her expression resigned for some reason as she glanced at Dawg’s chair.
“An explanation would be nice. ” Rowdy lifted his head, watching her closely as she seemed to pale.
“Excuse me?”
“Dawg’s been chasing you for years, Crista. What’s up?”
Crista’s eyes burned with anger as she slowly tucked the ordering pad into her back pocket and glared at him furiously.
“I’m not a plaything for the three of you,” she snarled then, surprising him and Natches. “If you cared for anything past yourselves then you damned well wouldn’t expect it. You’d grow the hell up and get over it. ”
Her voice was hoarse as tears sheened her eyes before she blinked them back furiously.
“Forget it,” she snapped. “The three of you might as well be clones of each other. You can’t even breathe alone. ”
Turning, she stalked back to the register where two customers waited, her fingers stabbing at the input keys as she flicked a scornful glance back at them.
“Have I been gone too long?” Rowdy turned back to Natches, gratified to see the same surprise reflecting in his face.
“Damn, and she used to be such a nice, quiet little girl,” Natches grumped as he scratched at his chin.
Rowdy snorted at the description. Crista had been anything but nice and quiet and they all knew it.
“I don’t have a problem breathing without your help. ” Rowdy grinned as he finished his coffee.
“Damned good thing. ” Natches shook his head as he peeked another look back at the little waitress, a frown pulling at his brow. “Hell, you’ve been gone eight years, Rowdy, and other than a few times you were home, me and Dawg’s been pretty damned tame. What the hell has her by the ear anyway?”
Rowdy shook his head as he glanced at his empty coffee cup.
“Do you think she’s going to bring us more coffee?” he asked ruefully.
Both men looked back at the woman, estimating their chances for caffeine.
“If she knows what’s good for her. ” Natches’s grin was wicked. “Or else, I might have to call Dawg back to sweet-talk her for us. ”
Rowdy chuckled, though when he glanced back at Crista he could feel the frown tugging at his brow again. The fact that Dawg wanted her should have been all it took to produce a raging hard-on and more than a surfeit of interest. Instead, all he felt was an edge of sadness. Their lifestyle, the very truth of their sexuality stood between Dawg and a woman Rowdy knew had to be more than interested in the other man.
Women didn’t get that upset if they weren’t interested. If they didn’t care. Crista Jansen cared—it had been there in her eyes, in her anger. But he had to agree with one thing. She wasn’t the type of woman who would willingly share her man, anymore than Kelly was. And that was the clincher. She was a woman worth keeping, a one-man woman. And she needed a one-woman man.
