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“Sounds perfect.”
I rose to leave, Henry wanting a hug, which I happily gave, before scrambling over to where Hattie was nestled in at Adam’s side for story time. I glanced at them over my shoulder, my heart practically hurting at how cute the little scene was.
As I made my way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, I considered what good caretakers they all were, each in their own ways. Hattie and Henry might’ve lost their mother, which no one could truly replace, but they’d gained the love of four wonderful uncles.
Four wonderful uncles who wanted to talk with me about… something. Tension tightened my belly as I entered the kitchen. Off in the distance I could hear them speaking to one another in the den, their low voices reverberating through the house. What they were saying, exactly, I couldn’t tell.
I spotted a bottle of opened red wine on the counter. Normally, I wasn’t a coping sort of drinker. The prospect of the conversation to come, however, made me reach for it. I poured a healthy glass and took a sip. Through the big windows in the kitchen, I could see the snow coming down hard enough that I started to wonder if it might not be a good idea to try to make the drive home. Not to mention that I didn’t really feel like walking in on a make out session in the living room.
“Looking bad out there.” Mac’s booming voice snapped me out of my trance. I turned to see him enter the kitchen.
“No kidding. And my car’s no good in the snow.”
“I’ve seen it, that little Subaru. You need something a little more substantial if you’re going to live this kind of life.” He stepped next to me. The moment he was close, the tension that I’d felt whenever not just Mac, but any of the guys, were near came rushing back. My pussy clenched, my heart racing.
Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea in the world if they wanted to fire me. While it’d hurt like hell, how else was I supposed to deal with the way the brothers made me feel on a daily basis? All the same, knowing I wouldn’t see them, or the kids again made me almost sick to my stomach.
Mac leaned onto the counter, the two of us watching the snow for a time. He turned to me, his impossibly handsome face only inches from mine.
“We, uh, we’re ready in the other room. Feel free to bring your wine.”
The tension between us was thick as molasses. All I could think about was him leaning forward and kissing me hard, the softness of his lips blending with the roughness of his stubble against my face. It was just like that morning with Marcus, the tension between us thick in the air before he’d gruffly broke it and stormed off.
“Yeah. Sure.”
He closed his eyes and pulled away, as if it had taken major restraint not to kiss me the way we both clearly wanted. Mac opened his mouth to say something. Whatever it was, however, he didn’t let it out. Instead, he closed his lips and left without another word.
Once more, I was alone. The conversation we’d just had was a perfect little summation of my relationship, such that it was, with all of the guys; warm and friendly and easy but dripping with sexual tension that made it nearly impossible to even speak.
Maybe this was what the conversation was about? Fear and excitement boiled up in me in equal measures—excitement at seeing the guys all at once, fear that it might be for the last time.
Wine in hand, I entered the den. The four of them were there, glasses of whiskey for each, a warm fire crackling in the hearth. The two big, arched windows on both sides of the fireplace allowed for a view of the swirling snow in the darkness. The guys had been chatting with one another when I’d entered, the small smiles on their faces letting me know that it likely hadn’t been about anything serious.
When I entered, however, the smiles faded. Their eyes turned to me, not one of them saying a word. Despite the fear, I felt myself grow wet and tight down below, my body yearning for the men. It worried me. After all, how the hell was I supposed to have a normal conversation if all I could think about was them taking turns with me?
Mac sat up a bit out of his chair, the rest of the guys doing the same.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “All of you are so polite, real gentlemen.”
“Believe me,” Adam said. “If our ma was here and saw us not getting up when a lady entered the room, she’d pull one of those logs right out of the fire and smack us each upside the head with it.”
I realized I didn’t know all that much about their parents, a conversation for another time. I was hoping to get the chance.
“Please,” Mac said, gesturing toward the sofa across from the fireplace. “Have a seat.”
I did as he asked, sliding onto the extremely comfortable couch and settling in. Between that, the wine, the fire, and the snow, I had all the makings of a perfect little winter evening in front of me. The company didn’t hurt, either.
Of course, there was still the minor detail of the very real chance I was about to get fired.
“Thanks for staying a little longer, Aubrey,” Mac said. “Means a lot that you took the time to chat with us.”
Adam craned his neck, glancing out of the window. “Though, unless you’ve got snowshoes it doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere.”
I sipped my wine, nervous energy building by the second.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to ask.
“Alright,” I said, setting down my glass on the coffee table. “If there’s something you guys want to tell me about my job performance, let’s hear it right now. I can handle rejection; I can handle getting fired. But if there’s one thing I’mnotgood at, it’s anticipation.”
