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I disconnected and sighed, taking my mug to the counter for another refill.
After returning to my seat, I tried to get my head back in the game. While Sam and Jack made my mind go blank, Chad had the ability to make me obsess about how stupid it had been to have married him. Dwelling on it only gave me heartburn, but I couldn’t help it. He was such a prick and I’d been stupid. Naive. No longer.
I was finally able to focus, but I didn’t make much progress before my attention was diverted once again—this time by an IM from Elaine that popped up on the bottom of my screen.
How’s the monkey sex?
My snort of laughter made me choke on my coffee. Slapping a hand over my mouth to stifle it, I looked around guiltily. The last thing I needed was someone else reading my personal messages.
I stared at the message screen debating my response. Elaine was clearly teasing with her monkey sex comment—she hadn’t seriously expected that I would have a one-night-stand with a cowboy any more than I had. But if she only knew….
Oh, what the hell? If there was anyone who wouldn’t judge—who would applaud, even—it was Elaine. And Cara. And Angie. Probably Declan, too. Sally. Even Violet. So I typed the words, hit enter.
I did it.
I bit my lip to hold back a ridiculously girly giggle. But really, it wasn’t every day I could tell my best friend that I’d had a threesome. With two cowboys. Two insanely hot, drool worthy cowboys.
Her response was instant. You did not.
Elaine, you had no idea.
I did, I swear.
Elaine’s response was a series of exclamation points and question marks. Clearly my friend was too excited for words. I drew in a deep breath before taking the plunge.
You’re not going to believe this, but…
I hesitated for one second. It was one thing to have a fling with a pair of cowboys, twice… so far, but it was quite another to admit it. Somehow telling Elaine made it real in a whole new way. It was one thing if everyone in Bridgewater assumed, it was another to own up to it.
It wasn’t like I was ashamed, just… shocked. By myself—by how much I liked it. Up until yesterday I never would have considered that I might be into a threesome, let alone a polyamorous relationship. Let alone doing butt stuff.
Not that this was a relationship. It was just sexy times… with butt stuff.
What the fuck, Catherine! Are you trying to kill me with suspense? Who did you do? And more importantly—how was it?!
I grinned at the screen and quickly typed my response. Two cowboys. HOT cowboys. And it was epic.
Elaine’s response came two seconds later. I assume she needed that time to digest this bit of news. Then I got: WOOHOO!!!!
From her spot behind the counter, Maude glanced over with a smile at my choked laugh.
We went back and forth for a while as Elaine demanded all the details. I’m pretty sure she was trying to live vicariously through me, and I couldn’t say that I blamed her. Her consensus? Keep fucking the hotties as long as you can.
This, according to Elaine, was my once in a lifetime opportunity. And maybe she was right. It couldn’t last forever but I could enjoy the hell out of it while it lasted. Hell, I could make enough memories to last me a lifetime with my vibrator once I was back in the real world.
My stomach sank at that bleak image of my future—cold, passionless. Lonely. But it was the life I’d always known and I’d be fine once I was back in my element. Back in the bustling city, back to my full schedule. The meetings, the long hours. Somehow that reassurance didn’t quite ease the hollow feeling in my chest, but I chose to ignore it.
Speaking of the real world… I couldn’t put it off much longer.
What’s going on at work?
There was a pause before Elaine typed, Are you sure you want to know?
That alone was enough to make my blood pressure rise and the acid in my stomach churn. Did I want to hear about all the shit going down at work? No, not really. I had an idea, but I had to know the truth, so I told her to spill. I almost wished I hadn’t when Elaine’s rapid-fire one line texts popped up on my screen, each one worse than the last.
Seemed Roberts was still on the Marsden case and telling everyone it was his—no big surprise there—but he’d also weaseled his way onto another one of my cases.
Fuckity fuck. Fuck.
