Page 11 of Unconventional


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When the knock finally came at the door, it was fifteen minutes early. I opened to find all three men in my doorway again, in pretty much the same positions they’d stood in last night.

But this time, dressed much, much differently.

Julian wore a plain black T-shirt and a pair of tight, faded blue jeans. The latter were shredded in places that were neither strategic or for show; they were simply places where he’d worn them for so long, the fabric had finally given way.

Noah surprised me with a crisp button-down shirt, and the closest shave I’d ever seen on him. Chase looked similarly clean. Both men kissed me on the cheek on the way through the door, and I was handed a small bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane along with a large bottle of red wine.

Julian came in behind them, holding a sprig of beautiful wildflowers that looked suspiciously like the ones growing next to my driveway. He slipped a very possessive arm around my waist as he moved in to kiss me hello. His mouth came dangerously close to mine too, something that didn’t exactly go unnoticed by the others.

He’s marking his territory…

The thought both shocked and thrilled me at the same time. As I closed the door behind them, my stomach erupted with butterflies.

“This is unbelievable,” I said aloud.

My guests turned to look back at me, all of them with puzzling expressions. “Unbelievable?”

“Just look at the three of you!” I practically shouted. “You’re all so clean! So showered and fresh, your hair combed, your faces not covered in dirt...”

You’re wearing shirts for once, my mind continued, silently. Unfortunately for me…

I pushed through the foyer, leading them into my beautiful, state-of-the-art kitchen that didn’t seem to belong in the castle at all. This part of the keep had been my uncle’s doing. In traveling the world he’d developed a taste for certain exotic foods, as well as a talent — or so he said, anyway — for cooking them.

“Wow,” said Chase, spinning in a

slow circle. “I never would’ve imagined this.”

“Me neither,” I admitted. “Yet here it is.”

I sat them down at the big farmhouse table, crafted by uncle Travis from salvaged wood from the castle grounds. The planks looked old and smooth and worn with time.

“Beer or wine?”

“Depends,” said Chase. “What are we havin—”

“Beer,” Julian interjected, helping himself to the fridge.

I watched as he slipped one big hand over the bottle and twisted the cap off. He tilted his head back and drank just as lustily as he did every day, out in the dusty work zone near the curtain wall.

“I’ll have wine,” I smiled at Noah, who flashed me a very sexy return grin. “Glasses are right over there.”

If my uncle had been alive, we’d be having poached salmon in lemon caper sauce, with buttered asparagus and some kind of sauteed leeks. As it was, I’d grilled up some sirloin. Partly because it was simple, and went well with the homemade french fries I was serving. But also because these were meat and potatoes men, who looked like they would appreciate a good steak.

We drank. We ate. We drank a little more. The meal was good if not great, but I noticed with satisfaction that all three of the guys cleaned their plates. Throughout dinner we talked about everything and nothing. Mostly about what was going on with the castle, and how best to wrap up whatever projects were needed to pass the final inspections.

We’d been finished for nearly an hour when I sent Noah down to the pantry, for another bottle of wine. The four of us were happy, sated, and laughing. In other words, we were feeling no pain.

“So you’re a princess, apparently,” Chase said.

It was a statement more than a question. I looked back at him, confused.

“Well you live in a castle,” he stated, flashing his most disarming smile. His impossibly white teeth were big and straight and model-perfect.

“Maybe I’m a queen,” I teased, tracing my wine glass with one finger.

“If so, you’ll need a king.”

The words came from Julian, who was leaning casually back in his chair. All cleaned up like this he looked absolutely amazing. He already had a small row of empties lined up before him.

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