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Charli sat up straighter. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re practically related.”
Lori Ann shook her head. “Not even a little related. I’m a nurse, I know these things. And love them or not, you definitely want them. All three of them.”
This was ridiculous. “Three? If we’re being delusional why not add Lee to my fantasy list?”
“You don’t want Lee. Trust me, we’d have been able to tell. No, with him you’re right. You love him like a brother, and he feels the same about you. But it’s more than obvious that the rest of you have…tension.”
Charli was squirming in her chair. Men were so much simpler. They didn’t pick up subtle hints, or notice things you didn’t want them to notice. Not usually. And if they did they were too much of a guy to bother you by mentioning it. “Tension?”
Connie fanned herself. “Oh yeah. If you could only see the looks you get when your back is turned. Lava hot, girlfriend.”
“Who looks at me?”
“They all do, Charli. Simon, Eric, Rafael. As far as they’re concerned there are no other women when you’re around. Much to the chagrin of the female population of Denver.”
“See? Now I know you’re lying. They’ve brought dates to our get-togethers. I’ve seen them pick up girls in bars. Hell, we have each other’s house keys. And let me tell you, from the amount of women and men I’ve seen passing through the revolving doors they call bedrooms, none of them are suffering.”
Lori Ann popped a s
trawberry into her mouth, chewing and swallowing before she spoke. “Have you seen any of that recently? Cause we’ve been with Lee for about two years now, and the only woman we’ve seen them with, apart from us, is you. Rafael, for all his bluster, hasn’t brought anyone around either. Think about it.”
She thought about it. They were right. The guys hadn’t brought many dates around recently. And Lord knew they hadn’t let a man within ten feet of her. Maybe they were just burnt out on dating. Maybe they’d gotten into a rut. Who knew? Whatever the case, the girls were wrong. It had nothing to do with her.
But were they right about her own feelings? She thought of the brooding Simon, his protectiveness, his fiery blue eyes. Shy Eric, the English professor with the looks of a blond Adonis, and a wit and intellect that always amazed her. And Rafael. Raf. His olive skin and dark eyes made her drool, but it was his sense of humor and irreverence that she loved. He always made her laugh.
Oh brother. She was in trouble.
“Look, I know you mean well, and you may be right. Any woman who’s known them for more than five minutes develops a crush on at least one of them. So I’m human. But that doesn’t mean anything is going to happen.” She shrugged. “I’m not like you, I’m not really good at…sharing. No doubt a flaw on my end, but there you go.”
Connie came to sit beside her, throwing a friendly arm over her shoulders. “Love comes in many packages. I wrote that myself. However you find it, if it makes you as happy as we are, then it’s the right one for you.”
Charli closed her eyes on a groan. “If I could find a package that wrapped them all up into one guy I’d be happy. Together they’d make the perfect man.”
“Now there’s a fantasy.” The three women toasted the thought, giggling.
“Care to share the joke?”
Now it was Charli’s turn to spill her drink. Icy strawberry margarita soaked her fingers and covered her thighs. “Damn it.”
“Oops. We’ll go get some napkins.” Connie and Lori Ann jumped up faster than was wise considering how much they’d been drinking, and disappeared in a wobbly mass of giggling female.
“Wow. You’re a mess, Chuck.”
“Thank you, Simon. I don’t know what I’d do without you to point these things out to me. Are you going to help or just mock from afar?”
Simon chuckled, pulling off his T-shirt and using it to wipe her thighs. God, he was gorgeous. “Help, of course. You think the girls are happy? Lee is feeling no pain. Everybody and their brother has bought him a round to celebrate. If people really liked him they would buy him a few rounds of coffee, otherwise his wedding night will be a hazy memory of porcelain-god worshipping and pain.”
Charli nodded, licking the cool sticky liquid off her fingers. “It’s true.”
“What’s true?”
Charli looked down, noticing that Simon was still rubbing her legs with his cotton shirt. Rubbing in a slow, circular caress that was kind of turning her on. Kind of? She snorted. Who was she fooling? “That you shouldn’t drink on your wedding night.”
“Uh-huh. Need any help with that?”
“With what?” Charli caught his gaze. He was looking at her fingers still dripping with margarita. Before she had a chance to refuse, Simon reached out to grip her wrist, pulling it toward his mouth.
Oh. My. God. Charli didn’t move, barely breathed as he slipped her fingers one by one into his mouth. And sucked. She pressed her thighs together, unwilling heat filling her belly, her sex. A small whimper escaped her throat, and Simon’s eyes darkened.
