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“And her having two lovers on a permanent basis doesn’t seem confusing or complicated to you?”
Liv’s brow knitted. “I haven’t had much opportunity to delve too deeply into the mechanics from an emotional standpoint,” she contended. “I’ve only been back in Bayfront a couple of weeks. Still assimilating. And my own experience is rather . . . limited . . . in this area.”
“Right. Well. I suppose it can seem more of a novelty than—”
“I didn’t say that,” she quickly added. “Novelty trivializes the circumstances, and I can guarantee that is not the case with my friends.”
Tristan fell silent again.
Liv’s chin hitched as she told him, “I find nothing trivial about the circumstance you, Nate, and I found ourselves in, either. The fact that we never discussed it until now is, I believe, merely a reflection of our collective understanding that we weren’t intending to start something that night. None of us were in the position to launch into a relationship of any sort, so there was never really a point to combing through the intricate nuances of a ménage à trois beyond the scorching sex. Correct?”
“A very astute observation.”
“I pay attention from time to time.”
He laughed, low and sensually. “I know you do. Now, I really have to go. Much as I’d like to continue this deep-dive into our intricate nuances.”
“They apparently haven’t diminished in five years, Tristan. As in not going anywhere. No need to be any later for your conference call.”
“That’s entirely dependent upon you being amenable to picking up the conversation where we’re leaving off.”
Liv worried her lower lip once again. Would it just be opening a can of worms best left sealed shut if they did engage in a discussion about their threesome? She’d always assumed he and Nate had taken the same philosophical high road as she did, viewing their sexually charged evening as something extraordinary that had happened, but not anything they were capable of exploring further.
“Liv?” Tristan prompted.
She hedged a few seconds more, then reluctantly said, “I’m not sure there’s much purpose in a recounting of what we all succumbed to. Sometimes it’s best to accept a situation for what it was at that moment in time, rather than dissecting the components. Might dilute the potency, you know what I mean?”
“Hmm. Maybe.” Though he didn’t sound the least bit convinced by her theory. Instead he simply said, “We’ll catch up later. Have a good evening.”
“I will. And thanks again for the gift. I’m looking forward to Friday night.”
“Me, too.”
He dropped off the call. Liv returned her cell to the counter and poured more wine.
A repeat performance with Nate and Tristan wasn’t something she’d fixated on over the years. Sometimes the stars were aligned just so and that resulted in magic. To fuck with the astrology could end disastrously. If a second attempt at something so perfect went awry, it would inevitably taint the initial scenario. Taint their friendships, even.
Liv frowned. What a double-edged sword she was suddenly balanced on the tip of.
Just thinking of another go-round with her ménage lovers sent a wave of anticipation and excitement washing over her. But what if it was only meant to be a one-time thing and the cosmic forces subsequently conspired against them for greedily reenacting the guilty pleasure?
Damn. For so long, she’d savored the memory of Nate and Tristan taking turns with her, but had always considered it “something that had just happened.” Not “something that could happen . . . again.”
But here they all were in Bayfront and already a new fantasy was being woven.
The overarching question for Liv: Was it wise to continue adding to the tapestry, when their lives were never going to be fully intertwined?
Chapter Four
Two days later, after her get-together with Chloe, Sylvia, and Fallon, Liv had a to-do list a mile long. She didn’t mind so much—had volunteered to be an errand girl, as a matter of fact. She enjoyed staying busy and it was kind of fun to traipse about town collecting this and that for the auspicious occasion. It also kept her from obsessing over what might or might not have been put into play when she’d been on the phone with Tristan.
She’d had a hell of rerun of the Paris evening when she’d finally crawled into bed after that convo. Hadn’t allowed any additional scenes to unfold, though. She still considered that tempting fate. But she had permitted the more enhanced version of her lovers to take center stage—all rippling sinew and searing male heat.
The looping in her mind had led her to break into a new package of batteries. Holy hell, Nate and Tristan inspired some amazingly fantastic orgasms!
Today, she was trying to be all business. All wedding business. Though she had another decision simmering in the back of her head, one she didn’t bring to the forefront just yet, because it deserved its due time to percolate. She had a choice to make and it wasn’t between two hot and hunky men.
It was between two spectacular bands she’d auditioned with. Actually, there’d been about two dozen bands she’d auditioned with over the past months. But temperaments and musical styles and future aspirations all had to be factored into the equation for everyone involved, and Liv believed she’d found two great fits: an up-and-coming, edgy pop band that had no solid following as of yet, but was poised for greatness with a raw look and sound and the members’ astounding ambition; and a pure rock-and-roll band with a huge fan base.
