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All in all, with everyone being up-front about their intentions and Jewel not lying about whether she’d been with one man or the other, it’d been much easier for the trio to begin building their relationship. Not that they hadn’t suffered setbacks, including with their families and some members of the exclusive California wine community, but Jewel swore that keeping everything aboveboard and in the open was the best way to manage the dynamic of a ménage à trois. Not just in the sexual connotation, but as a household as well.
No lie, Bayli found the entire arrangement intriguing. Scarlet did, too. And they’d never seen their lifelong friends so happy. Which was likely why Bayli wasn’t quite so timid about broaching the subject of currently being the object of both Christian’s and Rory’s desire.
Not that she had any delusions that she’d hold their interest. She did not take either man as being the type to settle down, not when their stars were burning so brightly and there were still many business ventures for them to spearhead and conquer. Bayli felt something similar.
What she was really experiencing at the moment was the rush of having caught both men’s attention and the fact that, with each of them, something new seemed to leap out at her around every bend. Bayli loved that. Thrived on the titillation of the unexpected, because it was a huge contrast to her past and easily inspired hope for what tomorrow might bring.
Hell, she had high hopes for what the next couple of hours with Rory St. James might bring!
He eventually worked his way free of the crowd, shaking his head slightly as he eyed her, as though he were exasperated by his adoring fans. But the glimmer in his dark-chocolate irises suggested otherwise. He was just good at keeping up his tough-guy image.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“No worries at all.”
“They’ll be swarming you someday soon. And won’t even notice me.”
She beamed up at him and playfully said, “Here’s hoping.”
Rory snickered amiably.
From his back pocket, he whipped out a folded-up cloth tote, then took her hand again—which thrilled her endlessly—and said, “Let’s shop. Little Miss Catches Flies with Honey.”
She knew he was referring to himself as one of them.
EIGHT
Rory directed her from table to table, and Bayli carefully surveyed the offerings and either looked disgusted, shrugged nonchalantly, or nodded zealously. He quickly picked up on the nonverbal signals and deduced that she stuck mostly with the standard fare of vegetables, not too fond of cauliflower, turnips, oca, and the like. But zucchini, heirloom tomatoes, and carrots earned high marks, so he snatched a bit of each, along with some other accompaniments, as they worked their way down the tree-lined street.
“How often do you actually get to cook at home, Rory?”
“Not frequently. Just when friends are in town at the same time I am.”
“Lady friends?” she asked as she inspected a crown of broccoli and then handed it to him to add to their collection.
Rory wasn’t quite sure what the hell he was going to do with that—the broccoli. Given her other selections, he was headed in a specific direction, rather than a hodgepodge one. But seriously … he was going to deny her anything? Not a chance.
There were already some extremely unfamiliar and even a tad unsettling feelings centered around this woman that began taking root deep in his gut. Okay, a little higher than that. And lower. Something about her big, soulful eyes tugged at his heart. She wavered between flirty and lost in thought. Not always pleasant thoughts, he could tell. Sometimes she got mired in a murkiness that had nothing to do with whatever topic of conversation they were on or what was happening between them or around them.
And then there was the matter of his cock twitching at the mere sight of her. Threatening to stiffen when she laughed, smiled, gazed up at him. Fuck, it was worse while their fingers were entwined and, on occasion, her breasts brushed against his arm or chest.
The woman who had initially irritated him—for being in his way, for causing him to maim her, for not being the front-of-house hostess he needed—now easily ensnared him. She was beautiful, and sure, that held plenty of appeal for him. But his attraction to Bayli Styles went well beyond surface beauty. He couldn’t keep himself from watching her closely and trying to learn every facet of her personality, no matter their environment, whether they were engaging in witty banter or she was pushing his buttons. Honestly, he liked both. She was sweet and feisty. Hesitant at times, audacious at others. Never, ever boring.
Rory wasn’t quite sure what would come out of her mouth next. Didn’t know how she might react to anything he’d say or do—and that was exciting as hell. He wasn’t used to balancing on a tightrope with a woman, but this one had him jonesing for each thrilling second with her.
All of which made it difficult to answer her question. Because, yes, he did entertain “lady friends.” He was no saint. But not all of his female acquaintances were lovers. Many were colleagues. Professional chefs he hung out with during downtimes—few and far between, but he managed to fit in special get-togethers whenever possible.
Really, though … Rory knew what she was getting at. So he said, “I’m not currently sleeping with anyone.”
They checked out the mounds of various potatoes but bypassed the starch. Bayli mused, “And you don’t mind that I am? Well … it could’ve just been a onetime thing. I don’t really know if Christian is looking for anything beyond last night.”
Rory’s hand tenderly squeezed hers. “You want to know if I’m okay with you and Christian, when I want you just as much as he does?”
“Or did.” She halted abruptly and asked, “Is that true, though?”
Since there were people milling about, who certainly noted their presence, she obviously didn’t want to repeat what Rory had said verbatim. It was
n’t the most appropriate time and place for this discussion, but Rory didn’t want to leave her hanging any longer.
