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“Good to know.” Peyton rolled her eyes. “Well, if the three of you commandos will excuse me, I’m getting dressed and going downstairs. I’m famished.”
“How about a fried peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich?” Braden offered.
“Sounds wonderful,” Peyton said, pecking his lips when he leaned in for a kiss.
“One gooey sandwich coming right up,” Braden said, spoiling her as usual.
Smug as hell now, she glanced at Evan and then Kane. “So now what, boys? More punishment? More calling the club with empty threats?”
“I have something better in mind,” Kane said, watching the color draining from her face. “Evan, what do you say we call Ansley and tell her to take the night off? With all the new bartenders, we should be able to handle opening and closing on our own.”
Evan crossed his arms, kept his gaze pinned to Peyton and said, “I’m sure Ansley wouldn’t object. She’s been complaining she hasn’t had any time at home.”
“No,” Peyton said firmly. “I know what you’re thinking and I won’t do it.”
Evan shrugged and his lips and eyebrows moved with the gesture, too. Kane opened the bottom drawer in the nightstand. He chose a small round paddle and nearly came undone thinking about spanking Peyton’s fine ass. “Take your pick, baby. Either twenty licks here.” He slapped the wood against his hand. “Or twenty licks over at the club.” He rubbed his tongue across his upper lip.
“I won’t go to the club. Besides, we’ve always promised the girls we wouldn’t play at Clink. I’m not embarrassing my daughters in their hometown.”
“That promise was only good before they hired bartenders with attitudes,” Evan pointed out. “And Kimberly doesn’t live here anymore. Trixie is tied up with the kids. Patience is out of town and our own daughter needs a night off. We got it covered.”
Peyton glared at them. “You know what? I don’t think Clink’s bartenders are the only men in Fletcher with attitude. Somehow, I lucked up and landed in bed with a few too many Mr. Attitudes. And I will not go to Clink and try to put your minds at ease by fucking you in front of the bartender you both are threatened by. It’s absurd. You know I only have eyes for the three of you.”
“That’s good to know, sweetheart,” Kane said, tossing the paddle to the bed and gathering her close. Caressing her bottom, he whispered at her ear. “You’re still going out with us tonight. Once everyone remembers how well you play with your partners, there won’t be any room for speculation.”
“And what kind of gossip are you trying to put to sleep, Kane?” She placed her hands on her hips. “I mean are you really that insecure after all these years?”
Kane winked. “I’m not at all insecure, but you, on the other hand, haven’t had a night out in a while. After we get through with you in public, you’ll remember why you’re head over heels in love with three men and only three.”
Kane left the room and at his back, he heard her complaining to Evan. “He is absolutely the most frustrating man in the whole universe!”
With an extra spring in his step, he called out, “And that’s why you married me, Peyton. It turns you on. Makes you hot. Wear something short and sexy. I want every man from here to the state line to know you will always belong to me, Evan, and Braden. And no one touches what belongs to a Cartwell.”
* * * *
It was just after midnight when they pulled in Clink’s crowded parking lot. Peyton should’ve taken her spanking at home. She hated the paddle, but it was more tolerable than showing off her wrinkles in a club her daughters owned, a club once dubbed by a reporter as “a place where the beautiful people meet and enjoy public exhibitionism.” Sure the forty and over women came there to party, but most of them kept their clothes on.
Kane and Evan wanted hers to come off. Even Braden had tagged along and he rarely went to the clubs now. Since his prostate cancer and surgery, he rarely went out at all. The chance of his participation in a public sex act was slim to nearly none. Still, he hadn’t stayed behind and that was an important step in the right direction.
Apparently Kane and Evan weren’t alone. Even Braden wanted Mr. Stealth Wales to understand. Peyton was well cared for and the men who loved her took care of her sexually, too.
A zip of excitement was in the air as they walked to the club’s front door. Kane and Evan were on either side of her and Braden was behind them. They’d almost reached the entrance when the men’s phones started buzzing in their pockets.
At the same time, Trixie’s SUV came to a screeching halt in front of the club. Peyton’s oldest daughter Trixie had three husbands who were outright obsessive over her, too. Still, with their little ones at home, it was rare to see them out together. One by one—Brock, Rory, and Mitch—hopped out of the vehicle. Simultaneous confusion broke out all at once. Mitch, pretty much a homebody, didn’t go anywhere unless he was needed for backup and that meant trouble.
“Peyton, Trixie wanted us to come and warn you,” Brock said.
“Warn me?” She turned to her husbands, all three were now on their respective phones, pacing back and forth with worried expressions on their faces. “What’s going on?”
Brock locked gazes with Kane before he said, “There’s a problem. Get in and we’ll explain along the way.”
She shook her head and went to Kane. “Tell me. What is it?” Her heart was already in her throat. Kane held up his index finger. Peyton immediately turned to her sons-in-law. “Brock, what’s happened? Mitch? Rory? Is it Trixie? The kids?”
Mitch and Rory received calls then, too. Brock guided her to the back of their vehicle. All men were focused,
their gazes scouring the parking lot, and their rigid bodies on high alert. Peyton wasn’t a stranger to this scene. They’d been in these predicaments before. Their family had been cursed with looming dangers, disasters waiting to happen.
“Hello? Ansley?” Kane had just disconnected one call only to take another. “What the hell happened?”
