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“I’ll give you half of these. Maybe.”
“Eight,” I countered. “My choice.”
He looked down at the list again. The grin had turned into a resigned frown.
“Seven,” he said. “Still your choice, all except Dunlap.”
When he finished, he pushed the paper back across the table. “Final offer,” he said.
I counted to three slowly, silently, in my head. Then I extended my hand.
“Done.”
Sixty
LAUREN
It was the longest day in history. I’d gone from bad New York traffic to almost missing my flight, to delays on the tarmac, and delays on the taxiway as well. The flight was rough, the service lousy, and the landing nailed so hard half the overhead compartments popped open at once.
Retrieving my luggage took three times longer than normal, too. So by the time I’d endured the cab lines and scored a taxi out of McCarran? I was ready for the biggest glass of wine ever poured.
The drive through Vegas brought back fond memories, and over time I started to relax. Somewhere at the west end of town the cab rolled to a stop. I paid, got out, and approached the guys’ apartment for the first time ever.
Butterflies erupted almost immediately. They’d insisted on picking me up from the airport, but I’d been just as insistent I didn’t want to bother them. Right now the apartment looked dark, even empty. I raised my fist. Went to knock at the door… just as it opened all on its own.
“Hey beautiful,” Corey smiled, standing there in an apron. He looked totally delicious, and smelled even better. “Welcome home.”
He swept me inside, but not before kissing me until I was dizzy. He was holding a wooden spoon, already half-red with tomato sauce. The whole place was filled with the wonderful scent of meat and garlic and—
“Pasta should be done in a little while.”
The living room was warm, the lights dim. Soft music played in the background, something poppy and fun from the 1980’s, but still subdued.
“You might also want this.”
I turned at a second voice and there was Brody, slipping the stem of a very large wine glass into my hand. I squealed with joy and stood on my toes to kiss him, feeling his big arms wrap themselves around me and crush me to his chest in welcome.
I took my first sip with a two-thousand mile sigh, as Brody guided my ass onto a comfortable couch. His hands went to my shoulders. He began massaging them as I kicked my shoes off, my eyes fluttering closed with the pure pleasure of being touched, being pampered…
“We could have dinner first,” he said from behind me, leaving the sentence suggestive and open-ended.
“Or…?” I asked, pretty much knowing the answer.
His hands left my shoulders for a moment, then returned. When they did, they seemed even softer. Somehow more slender…
“Or you could come with me,” a brand new voice said. “And we could… catch up.”
“MASON!”
I whirled and threw myself over the back of the couch, straight into my third boyfriend’s arms. I hadn’t seen him in months! Hadn’t touched him, or held him, or kissed him…
That part was remedied straightaway, as Mason and I locked faces for the next few minutes. I was fully wrapped around his body; arms, legs, and everything. He held me there, his hands exploring the underside of my ass. Kissing me over and over as I whimpered with joy, until finally I was dropped to my two shaky feet.
My movie star boyfriend slipped his hand into mine. With a smile so devastatingly handsome it practically made me wet, he pulled me gently in the direction of one of the bedrooms.
“Go on,” Brody laughed. “Take your time. Catch up with each other.” He cleared his throat and chuckled. “I’ll go help the Maestro in the kitchen.”
One of doors was open now, and I could see inside the candlelit room. A virgin-white comforter lay stretched out across a king-sized bed, its surface pockmarked with little dark, velvety specks. I knew right away what they were.
