
Four For Christmas
By R. G. Alexander
Four For Christmas
Published by R.G. Alexander
Copyright 2011 by R.G. Alexander
Kindle Edition
Edited by Alien Nookie
Cover Art by R.G. Alexander
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book may not be resold or given away to other people.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
To Cookie---love is the reason. To Robin L. Rotham, for always being there, and always teaching me, and always being my friend. You never let me down, and I can only hope to live up to that. Finally to all of my readers-this Christmas story is for you. Every time a bell rings...well, you know the rest.
Table of Contents
First Chapter of "Three For Me?"
She was lost in the Colorado Rockies with snow whipping against the windshield like hail, and if she had to guess why the steering wheel was pulling so hard to the left? She would say she had a flat. Her holiday joy was now complete.
Georgia pulled over onto the snow-covered shoulder and braced herself before going out to look. Sure enough, her rear driver's side tire was flat as a pancake.
Shivering in her Louisiana excuse for a winter coat, she got back into the car and called Connie for the second time in the last half hour. "That's it, Christmas and I are officially done."
"I hear you selling but I'm not buying," Connie's sass came through loud and clear. "Georgia Virginia Bale giving up on Christmas? That's like saying the sky is green. That night is day. That classic movie colorization was a good idea or---or that Mick Jagger will be playing Tiny Tim in a live remake of Scrooge."
Georgia snorted, leaning back against the headrest of her rental car as she listened to Connie's voice piping through the speakers. At least she had cell phone reception and heat. But that didn't make up for everything else.
"Get ready for those big man-lips to say, 'God bless us, everyone'," she sighed. "I've got a flat tire."
"You're kidding me."
"Sadly, I am not. We have to admit when we're beaten, Connie." Georgia warmed her hands on her coffee thermos and took a sip. "You know my holiday track record. I love it but it does not love me. When you invited me here I thought this year I'd have a real Christmas in a real winter wonderland. I'd make a snowman or a snow angel or a snow something harmless and gentle. I was not expecting to be stranded in a blizzard, though I probably should have been." She shivered, despite the hot air blowing on her boots. "And damn it, Connie, you did not tell me it would be this cold."
"Spoken like a true southerner. Snow is cold? Who knew?" Connie dropped her sarcastic tone as swiftly as she'd picked it up. Georgia knew why. Her friend was worried. "As much as I'd love to believe in miracles, I don't think we could get triple A out in this weather. Just tell me where you are and let Lee call Simon. I told you about Simon, right? One of his business partners? He has a truck with chains on his tires and a tow thingy that---"
"No." Georgia sat up straight, her voice adamant. "I don't care what kind of tires or thingies your friend has, nobody should be out in this weather. It's humiliating enough, and it's my own damn fault for listening to this sadistic GPS and missing the exit. I would have been there by now if I had just ignored her like I wanted to."
"Recalculating...Recalculating..." The GPS blurted with unexpected but impeccable timing.
"Oh shut up!" Georgia snatched the useless device off its suction cup with a pop and tossed it on the floor of the passenger side. "Bitchy little know-it-all."
Connie snorted. "Does she at least tell you where you are right now?"
"I'm officially nowhere," Georgia huffed. "The last sign I saw was for Woodland Park and a place called Divide. Not sure where that is in relation to Denver, but at least I can say I'm now officially in the mountains. Don't worry. I'll make it to you eventually."
In the background, a familiar voice said, "Divide? Oh she's less than two hours away. Tell her to let us call in Charli's boys."
"I heard that, Lori Ann. No one's boys need to be called. I know how to change a flat tire. Besides, I have Roux to keep me company. She isn't complaining, so there's no reason for me to either."
The large black mouth cur in the back seat raised her head sleepily when she heard her name. She stared at Georgia with those big, knowing eyes, judgmental in her silence. "I know. I know. I should have stopped as soon as this weather started. You don't have to rub it in."
"Why do I get the feeling you aren't talking to me anymore?" Connie sounded amused.
Georgia knew she was being slightly defensive. "We all have our eccentricities, buddy. I'm the crazy writer who talks to my dog, and you..."
She didn't have to finish her sentence. Connie knew what she was going to say. She and Lori Ann shared more than a roof over their head. They shared a husband. Both women had married a man named Lee Barrow---a man Georgia had yet to meet, since she'd missed the wedding cruise to Cozumel.
He was obviously a man with many gifts. And a lot of stamina.
She was glad her friend had found happiness. No one deserved it more. When her grandfather was sick, Connie had been the nurse at his bedside, staying long past her shift's end to keep Georgia company as her favorite family member slowly faded away. That had been ten years ago now. They'd been friends ever since, managing to keep in regular contact despite Connie's move to the mountainous west.
When Connie had told her about the cruise, about how Lee's best friends had all gotten "together" in a four-way relationship afterward, Georgia had decided Colorado must put something strange in the water.
She may live in the state famous for New Orleans, vice and Mardi Gras, but outside of romantic fiction, she had never heard of any woman who truly loved more than one man at a time, let alone three, as that woman Charli claimed to. Not that she had any room to judge. Or that she wasn't just the tiniest bit envious.
Connie laughed. "Yes, yes. We can discuss my eccentricities later. But you're not crazy, hon. You are wonderful. Georgia? Did I mention how happy I am that you decided to come? Lee and Lori Ann can't wait to meet you. And, well, I have some news..."
Georgia waited, thinking she'd paused for dramatic effect. She held her breath. Was Connie pregnant? "What news?"
Nothing. Static.
"Connie?"
Georgia looked down at her cell phone and swore. No bars. No signal. No news. "Shit."
She slammed down her thermos and reached for the scarf and gloves on the seat beside her. "Of course. Because that's how my month is going."
Now she was completely disconnected. It was an unnerving sensation. What if she couldn't get the lug nut off or the jack slipped and the car fell on her? She wouldn't be able to call anyone for help. Or make one last phone call to her recent mistake of an ex-boyfriend to tell him that flashing his secretary at the last office party he'd begged Georgia to come to wasn't the only reason she'd broken up with him. She had a list...though she'd refrained from checking it twice until that moment. And she knew exactly why.
Christmas.
She hadn't wanted to be alone again for Christmas. Just once she wanted to remember what it was like to love the holiday as completely as she had when she was a child. When she thought the day belonged to her. She wanted to not spend her Christmas Eves crying into cartons of store-bought eggnog, watching movies about love and goodwill, miracles and the magic of the season.
With her grandfather gone, her long-widowed mother had taken to spending each year with a group of friends who liked to pretend they were riverboat gamblers. Santa was old hat with the slot machine set. Her younger sister, Valerie, had married as soon as she was legal and moved to live near her husband's large family in California. They were very traditional there, and apparently none of those traditions included inviting the in-laws for the holidays.
Though they did send beautifully handcrafted Christmas cards.
She supposed she was used to it. Being alone. As a writer, she lived alone with her dog, her wild imagination and her tendency to talk to her characters as if they were real. Her only human friends were the other writers she corresponded with online, all of whom lived in different states. And Connie, of course. She rarely had the chance to go out and meet any new friends who lived nearby, let alone a decent man. Decent, in this context, being one who didn't disappoint her just in time for the holidays, insuring she would spend another year realizing her secret stash of mistletoe was pointless, and thinking up creative new insults to verbally hurl at those poor, unsuspecting seasonal jewelry commercials.
A part of her, she knew, still wanted all the holiday magic to be true. Still knew every carol by heart. Still believed every clichéd phrase that told her if she were really good, something amazing would happen to her---that love, like Santa himself, was real. You just had to have faith.
"Yeah, right," she muttered, wrapping her scarf around her neck and mouth and bracing herself before opening the driver's side door. "It is not a wonderful life and no, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus. There are just people like Connie's friend Charli, who are never alone, and people like you...who will always be."
Which was fine with her. Who needed three demanding men always looking over her shoulder? Three men who each wanted all of her attention. It sounded like three potential heartbreaks waiting to happen. And far too kinky and complicated for someone like her to contemplate. Just the physical aspect alone boggled her mind. There were only so many positions after all.
She didn't need that kind of company. She'd never needed anyone but her laptop and her dog. As long as she had a power source and some kibble, she'd be fine.
She got out and looked up at the clouds that blocked the sun, her eyes squinting at the sharp wind that blew shards of snow into her eyes. She was safely on the side of the road, with mountains ahead of her and a wide, snow-filled plain beside her. No trace of civilization. No passing cars.
If any miracles were going to happen, Georgia was going to have to create them for herself. First she'd fix this tire then she'd find her way to Connie's house before Christmas. For her friend's sake, if for no other reason. The last thing she wanted was her bad holiday karma to rub off on her dearest friend.
She had to lean against the wind to make her way to the back of the SUV. The rental place had assured her it was in prime condition for a winter road trip. They'd said nothing about the tires. At least she'd remembered to make sure there was a spare before she left Sulphur, Louisiana behind.
As she moved her bags out of the way and gathered the tire iron and car jack with fingers already numb with cold inside her leather gloves, she remembered how Grandpa Bale had taught her to change a tire when she was sixteen years old. Right after he'd given her his beat-up '69 Chevy for Christmas.
She'd loved that old truck. She'd spent most of her summer sitting in his garage, holding up the work light so he could tinker under the hood while he told her stories.
He loved telling his tall tales. He had one for every occasion. Every problem or question she had, he would solve or answer by sharing one of his long-winded epics. And each time he told them they got a little bigger, a little harder to believe. But not for Georgia. She'd believed and never tired of hearing them. Those stories had inspired her to become a writer. Had made her believe she could do anything and be anything she wanted to be. Which explained why her first book had been about him. Her childhood hero.
Though she'd loved his tales of bayou monsters and city dwelling crocodiles, her favorite story had always been the one about how he'd met Georgia's grandmother at a Christmas Eve dance. How he'd been with a group of friends and noticed her coming out of the kitchen with a wobbling tray. How, by the end of that night, they'd kissed under the mistletoe and he'd known she would be his wife. She'd died long before Georgia was born, but from Grandpa Bale's vivid descriptions, she had been beautiful. Dark curly hair, like Georgia's, but unlike her own fair, freckly hue, her grandmother's skin was dark enough to cause a scandal when Grandpa Bale had made her his bride. But it was all worth it, he'd always assured his granddaughter. Because her smile, so brilliant and ever-present made him feel---in his words---"like Christmas morning everyday".
She dropped the tire iron and swore, kneeling down to pick it up. She needed to stop reminiscing and focus on the task at hand or she would end up freezing to death on the side of the road, despite her layers of clothing.
Georgia heard a bark and an impatient scratch on the door nearest her head. "Are you sure you can't hold it, Roux? You're just as thin-skinned as I am. You won't like it out here."
Another scratch. Apparently she was willing to risk it. Georgia hurriedly opened the door before Roux could do any damage, and watched a blur of reddish gold leap past her and around the car, in search of a good patch of grass.
"Good luck," Georgia called after her. "Just don't wander too far."
She wouldn't. She never did. That was one of the things she'd always loved about her dog. Roux never left her behind. Which was why the idea of leaving her in a kennel for Georgia's first road trip, her first trip out of state, was unimaginable. Luckily, Connie had known that before inviting them both over for Christmas.
Roux had been another gift from her grandfather. A wrinkly-skinned puppy he'd given her the same day he'd told her he was sick. Georgia sighed. She was sure this would be the year she didn't miss him so desperately. Didn't think about him constantly. The year she made new, happy memories for herself.
She got the spare tire on and rolled the old one out of the way when she heard Roux's bark. Was it the wind that made it sound so far away? "Roux?"
The next bark sounded even farther away. Had the high pitch of anxiety to it. Not a good sign. She got up with difficulty, her limbs aching from the chill, and panicked. She couldn't see Roux. Where was she?
Georgia cupped her hands over her eyes to keep out the icy wind, searching for that familiar reddish fur and black muzzle. "Roux, come back. Now!"
The dog's long body was there for a moment, then disappeared again behind a sea of white. "Damn it."
Her heart was racing. What had she been thinking? Roux never needed a leash, but they weren't in Louisiana anymore. For all Georgia knew, there could be bears or mountain lions along this stretch of road. If she lost her...
Georgia ran. Or tried to. She swore again as her jeans were instantly drenched in the densely packed snow. With each step her feet sunk deeper. But no matter how many times she called, Roux would not come back. Or couldn't. All the possible reasons why she couldn't were about to give Georgia a heart attack.
The ground rose up into a small hillside, the snow receding to her ankles. She could see Roux clearly now on the other side. And finally, she understood. Georgia groaned. "Oh, give me strength. I thought you and I both agreed we'd stop rescuing broken men."
She came closer, surveying the damage as Roux finally stopped barking, dancing around the prone figure with her tail wagging furiously.
"Yeah, yeah I see him."
A man and a very fancy looking snowmobile that was currently on its side, looking too expensive to be so horribly abused. Strapped to it, seeming very out of place atop the shiny monstrosity, was the ugliest, strangest looking little fir tree Georgia had ever seen. Intact enough, despite its tumble. The man, however, might be another story. He wasn't moving.
He was facing away from her on his side, covered head to toe in snow gear. Georgia rolled him carefully onto his back, making sure as she did that she didn't jar him. "Sir? Can you hear me?"
She was about to take her glove off to feel for a pulse, wondering if she would be able to feel anything at all when he groaned. "Oh thank goodness." Georgia smiled up at Roux. "He's alive."
He made another grunting noise, his eyes opening just long enough for her to admire their light green color before they closed again. She dragged the ski-mask up to reveal his face, and noticed the gash across his temple as well as the bruise forming along the square line of his jaw. Did he have a concussion? "Hey guy, we need to get you out of the snow."
He didn't move and Georgia looked him up and down. The man was huge. At least six feet tall, probably taller, and really broad shouldered. Maybe he was wearing an oversized snowsuit, but somehow she doubted it. Why? Because she knew what she would have to do if he wouldn't wake up.
It was just how she was raised.
"Tree."
Georgia had just covered his face back up and lifted him by the fabric around his shoulders to drag him to her car when she heard him speak. She dropped him in surprise and his breath rushed out in a loud huff. "Oh, damn I'm sorry. What did you say?"
He didn't respond, but she'd figured it out. She started dragging him again, muttering at Roux all the while. "If he thinks I'm going to carry him and his sad Charlie Brown tree all the way back to the car, well, he can just think again. You had to go sniff him out, didn't you, Roux? In this weather, after the day we've had, you had to find the only man in the state of Colorado who apparently doesn't know how to drive a snowmobile."
Thankfully his slick , colorful snowsuit made his transfer easier than it should have been. The man was well over two hundred pounds of pure heavy. Solid muscle, Georgia was willing to bet. Perfect muscle to go with his Photoshop face. And apart from his bruises, it was flawless . A thing of beauty. But she knew handsome didn't necessarily equal smart. Any man joyriding on a death machine in this mess couldn't be all that clever.
The tree. He'd mentioned the tree. Maybe he had a little daughter he wanted to surprise, and no money for anything better. But then the snowmobile wouldn't make any sense. Maybe he was going to propose to his girlfriend, and this was part of some mountain people ritual. First a scraggly tree, then the fur of the elusive Sasquatch, and then a ring.
Her vivid imagination kept her occupied and her griping down to a minimum until she got him to the SUV. "Now I just have to get you inside."
Getting him into the passenger seat was difficult. She was glad he wasn't awake, and that no one was around to witness all the tugging and pushing and groping she had to do to get any leverage. Or the fact that she might have given him an extra bruise or two in the process. Honestly, she could hardly believe she'd done it.
She was gasping for air by the time she was done, but at least the activity had warmed her a bit. She'd just leaned her forehead against his shoulder when he moaned again. Damn.
"We need to get you some help. Let me just lower the carjack---"
"Tree," he mumbled. "Have to get the tree."
Really? The man must have knocked whatever brains he had loose in his fall. She knew it. "I just saved your life. You can get another tree, guy. A better tree. I'll buy you one myself, with all the trimmings."
He tried to shake his head, inhaled sharply, and passed out. The rise and fall of his chest told her he was still breathing, but Connie was the nurse, not her. She had no idea how badly he was hurt, yet all he could think about was that damn tree.
Georgia hopped up and down on each leg for warmth, breathing into her cupped hands. She was a sucker. "Fine. Fine. I'll get the tree. Roux, get back in the car so you can get warm while you watch him. And if I freeze to death, you have my permission to bite him. Hard."
She followed the path his body had made in the snow, untied the tiny tree from the snowmobile and grabbed the keys from the machine while she was at it, though she doubted someone would make the effort to steal it in this weather. She headed back as quickly as her heavy limbs would allow, feeling the strangest desire to lay down in the whiteness. To make an angel while she still had the chance. To take a nap.
Why was she so tired?
The tree in her arms mocked her. All of a sudden it seemed symbolic of her fruitless quest for a happy holiday. It looked nearly as forlorn and alone as she felt. As hopelessly stubborn.
Stupid tree.
There would be a kind of poetry in it. Dying in the snow with a forlorn tree in her hand. The obituary would bring a tear to the eye. Her publisher would make sure of it.
Roux raced to her side, nudging her with the weight of her body, pushing Georgia forward. "I told you to stay in the car. You should be guarding your new boyfriend, girl. I'll get there as fast as I can." Breathing was starting to hurt. "What do you say to staying home next year? Sure it's muggy and boring, but excitement is overrated. Maybe we can rent a snow machine and those little spray cans of snow for the windows. All the fun, none of the cold. Sounds like a plan to me."
Roux whined. It sounded vaguely like the honking of a horn.
Georgia closed her eyes and saw nothing but the same bright white as when her lids were lifted. She'd only been in it for a few hours, but she was already beginning to hate the snow.
Adamant honking mixed with sudden barking rang in her ears and made her force her eyes open again. Maybe the tow truck driver had finally arrived. Surely he would help get snowmobile guy to safety. As for Georgia, as soon as she could feel her toes again she was hopping the next boat to Cozumel in honor of Connie, and following through on her promise to give up once and for all on Christmas. She'd pick another holiday to obsess over.
Maybe Groundhog Day.
If she'd thought her injured snowmobiler was huge, she knew now she had been mistaken. Perhaps he was average size for Colorado. Maybe there was something in the water here. Everything was over the top. Multiple partners. Large mountains. Large men.
Large, sexy mountain men.
Georgia saw the new specimen of testosterone gone wild arrive as she clutched a tree and stood knee deep in the snow. He was not the tow truck driver from triple A. His uniform was her first clue. A uniform that imbued him with authority as much as the unbelievable span of his shoulders, or that monster of a truck he'd arrived in, complete with flashing red and blue lights.
He'd backed up until he was in front of her SUV and then strode swiftly toward the passenger side of her rental, where snowmobile hunk seemed to be regaining consciousness. The two men were speaking as if they knew each other. And large snow patrol hunk was obviously upset with large snowmobile hunk about something.
Huh. Georgia looked down at the tree, the burlap fabric wrapped around its base. As good a hiding place as any. Was snowmobile hunk a fugitive on the run? Had he stolen the snowmobile as well as something more valuable? Was this sad tree an unwilling accomplice in a crime involving smuggling?
Her chuckle was more like a wheeze, freezing in the shockingly cold air as soon as it left her lips. She was really letting her imagination get the best of her. And it was getting harder to concentrate. She needed to get back into her car and back on the road as soon as possible.
Snow patrol hunk must have heard her, and seemed just as surprised to find Georgia as she'd been to find an unconscious man in the snow. Then, quicker than she could take another step in their direction, he was heading in her direction.
He raised his voice so she could hear him over the wind. "You shouldn't be out in this weather, ma'am, but I'm glad you were. Flynn just told me an angel saved him and went back for his tree. I imagine he was talking about you."
Georgia raised her eyebrows. Or tried to. Who knew icicles could form on flesh? "My dog found him."
He nodded, his long legs bringing him quickly to her side. When he reached her, he picked her up before she could protest and took her---not in the direction of her rental vehicle---but toward his. "And I'm thankful she did. But I doubt the dog dragged him all the way back to the road and to safety. When he missed checking in a few hours ago, I came out to find him. We told him he shouldn't go out with a storm coming, but he's always been the reckless one."
Before she knew it, she felt the hot air from the truck's heater blowing against her as he set her down in the backseat of his comfortable extended cab. She gasped at the sensation, but it stunned her out of her stupor. "Wait a minute. Thank you, but I need to get back to my car. And my dog. You can't just toss people around like this, even if you are the snow patrol."
He smiled and she was blinded once more by brilliant white. Not snow but a stunning smile, complete with disarming dimples. He had shorter hair than the other man, a darker skin tone, and warm brown eyes instead of green...but damned if he wasn't just as handsome.
"That's highway patrol, and can't might be a poor choice of words, ma'am. It's obvious that I can. And you're welcome. Just sit tight while I get Flynn and your dog so we can take you somewhere safe. She's a pretty girl, isn't she? What is she, a hound dog? Ridgeback? What's her name?"
Her teeth were chattering. Actually chattering. It sounded like castanets in her head. And parts of her skin were starting to tingle. No. Not tingle. Sting. "Cur."
He raised one dark brown eyebrow. "Her name is Cur? How unfortunate."
Georgia rolled her eyes. "Her name is Roux. She's a cur. And we were already on our way somewhere safe when we found your friend."
The man reached around her and grabbed a blanket, taking the tree and keys gently out of her hands before wrapping her up. She allowed it, she told herself, because she was distracted by his spicy scent. Not because she couldn't move her arms.
His tone was soothing. His words were not. "You were on the side of a rarely traveled road with your vehicle up on a jack in the middle of what is turning into one heck of a storm. It doesn't seem like you were on your way to anywhere other than a bad case of pneumonia or worse. Did you try to change that tire yourself?"
Try? Was he kidding or had he time traveled from the nineteen fifties to rescue snowmobile hunk? "Look, Officer Neanderthal, I appreciate your help. Really. But I managed to change the tire and save your friend all by myself. Hard as it may be to believe. Now, my engine is still running, my tire is road-worthy and all I need is for you take your buddy and---"
"Brother," he interrupted her. Shaking his head as he looked at her boots. "You are lucky I came along. Where are you from? Texas? Those boots may look good, but out here? You could lose a toe."
Georgia swallowed. Oh good lord. Wouldn't that be the perfect end to this failed experiment of a road trip? Her first time in snow and she would lose her feet. She'd be that crazy, footless writer living in the bayou with her dog and talking about the night two sexy giants ruined her future as a ballerina forever.
The officer obviously saw something resembling panic in her expression, because his own sobered and cupped her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I said you could, but you aren't going to." His grip tightened. "Besides, I know the best doctor in town. Trust me...at least enough to tell me your name."
"Georgia." She mumbled through lips that felt swollen and raw. Defrosting was no fun at all. She was stubborn, but even she wasn't confident enough to think she could drive in this condition. She needed help. "Not the state, my name. And I'm not from Texas. I'm from Louisiana. If you have cell service I can call my friend to pick me up. And please make sure Roux is okay."
He nodded. "I'll get her right now, Georgia from Louisiana. And I'll get you a phone as soon as I lug Flynn out of your car. Later you're going to have to tell me how someone your size got him in there in the first place. I'm James, in case you were wondering. Jimmy to my friends and women freezing on random roadsides."
He disappeared, his body no longer a shield between her and the open truck door. She shuddered, clutching the blanket tighter. She was freezing. And she knew enough to know that there was no way she was going to warm up until she got into a change of clothes. Hers were soaked clean through.
She heard Roux bark excitedly and smiled as the wet heap of fur jumped up onto her lap. Georgia opened her blanket and enclosed her shivering companion, cuddling her close. "Good girl," she murmured soothingly, thankful to have something other than her own discomfort to focus on. "Good girl."
The dog's presence and body heat was calming. Georgia leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Just a few minutes. She just needed a few minutes. So snow patrol hunk and snowmobile hunk were called Jimmy and Flynn. Brothers? They looked nothing alike, other than their above average sizes. Maybe they had different mothers.
Sexy half brothers. Georgia thought of Connie's friend Charli's situation and grinned. Only two men instead of three, but they would do. A girl could fantasize, couldn't she? Especially if she desperately needed to get warm.
\*\*\*
The rich voice she heard as she regained consciousness, made Georgia think of whiskey and naked fireplace make-out sessions. Whoever it belonged to was speaking in low, hushed tones beside her. "Mild hypothermia, but no injuries. She's been asleep since Jimmy brought her in, along with our knuckleheaded Flynn."
The man paused and sighed. "He'll be fine. He was dressed for the weather, at least. Just not the crash. He's bruised, has a bad headache to go with his slight concussion and a well-deserved case of guilt about your friend, Georgia, but he'll live."
Your friend? Georgia struggled to fight her way out of the warm lethargy that covered her along with several quilts and, if she wasn't mistaken, her dog. "Who---?"
A chair scraped along the floor and the whiskey voiced man spoke with a smile in his voice. "She's awake, Connie. I imagine she'll want to talk to you before she lets me near her. Hang on. Georgia?"
She opened her eyes. It was official. This whole experience had been a dream. It had to be. She was still in the SUV, alone on an isolated road and dreaming. It was the only explanation that made any sense.
That or Colorado was a popular retirement community for gorgeous immortal demi-gods.
She pushed herself up, noticing the large bed she was resting in the middle of, the warm, rustic room...was she in a cabin? She tried not to stare at the Paul Bunyan look alike standing over her, complete with flannel shirt, auburn curls, trimmed beard and piercing blue eyes. "Georgia? Do you think you're up to taking a phone call?"
Connie. He'd said Connie. She nodded, not really sure why she was blushing, and accepted the cell phone he was holding out to her. "Hello?"
"Oh my God, Georgia. You have no idea how worried I've been." Connie sounded exhausted. "When the phone died and I couldn't get you back, I panicked. I knew Doctor Williams had a brother who was a highway patrol officer in Divide, so I called. I'm so glad I called."
Georgia lifted a hand to her head as she shook it. She had an awful headache, but her friend's anxiety was tangible. "Calm down, Connie. I'm fine. At least, I think I'm fine." She glanced up in question, and the gorgeous lumberjack nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Is Doctor Williams the man who just handed me the phone?"
"Yes. He has several patients he visits at the Medical Center in Denver, and we've done a lot of fundraising together this year. You lucked out in the rescue department, I'll give you that. He's the best." Connie's sigh was watery. "He said the weather was so bad that his brother just brought you, Roux and your things to their cabin. He said you, well, that you had been out too long in the snow. That you saved his youngest brother Flynn's life."
Hunky Doctor Williams placed several pillows behind her back and Georgia leaned against them gratefully. "Roux found him while I was changing the tire. I would never have seen him otherwise."
"We should have called someone"
Georgia snorted. "I'd still be out there with a flat if I'd waited on someone else to save me. I'm surprised the officer saw my rental, the snow was so thick." She sat up and looked at the doctor again. "You didn't happen to tow that SUV back along with me did you?"
He shook his head, and she noticed how the dim light in the room added a golden tinge to his auburn hair. She bit her lip. "Darn. Connie, as soon as this dies down you may have to ask Lee's friend to break out his big truck after all. I'm not sure how else I can get to you."
A large hand covered hers and slipped the phone out of it. "Wait, we were still---"
"Connie, don't worry about it. The weather channel is saying this snowstorm is going to last a few days. You know as well as I do that no one is going anywhere for the moment." He listened to her on the other end for a moment, but shook his head. "She'll be fine here. We have plenty of supplies; we were already planning to spend the week here. All she needs is rest. So do you. Especially in your condition."
Georgia's mouth dropped open in shock. Connie was pregnant after all, and apparently this man planned to keep her in his cabin for the next few days. She didn't even know him. "Doctor, I'm fine. You said so yourself."
He sent her a stern look that for some strange reason made her blush again, and continued to speak into the phone. "We have six days until Christmas. We'll clear the roads ourselves to get her to you by then. You can call her back later, okay? Okay."
He hung up the phone and kept his gaze fixed on hers intently, as if he were studying her pupils. "Are you feeling any dizziness? Nausea? What about your vision?"
Georgia swallowed. "No. No. And it's working." Her hand reached out instinctively to pet Roux, who was sleeping peacefully beside her, once again unconcerned by their strange new predicament.
"Are all my toes still attached?"
He looked confused so she wiggled them experimentally. It felt like they were all still there. It also felt like she was in a dry pair of sweatpants and a man's t-shirt instead of her original outfit. She kept her tone conversational, though she had to admit she was starting to get a little uncomfortable. "Officer Jimmy said I could lose a toe, so I was just curious. I have a curious nature and an overactive imagination. It's a curse. Which is why I need to ask---where are my clothes, Doctor Williams?"
Now it was his turn to blush. Goodness, he was a handsome man. A little rougher in appearance and not as perfect as the other two. His nose had a small crook in it and he looked weatherworn, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. But that only made him sexier.
"Officer Jimmy, huh?" He shifted on his feet and sat back down on the chair beside the bed. "Your clothes are drying by the fireplace. And you're in my home, Georgia. You're my houseguest. You can call me Chris."
She used her other hand to tug the quilt higher against her chest. "Not to be a bad houseguest, but you being a strange man who's seen me naked? Makes me want to keep calling you Doctor Williams."
He chuckled in surprise at her words. "You definitely seem to be recovering. That's a good sign. Now Flynn won't have to live with the guilt of killing his Christmas angel, and James will stop pacing right outside the door."
Georgia wrinkled her nose and bit her lip, trying to remember his conversation with Connie. "So Jimmy and Flynn are your brothers too? You all seem so...different." Other than the hot, giant muscle man thing.
The doctor shrugged, still smiling. "We are in every way that counts."
He reached for a glass of water on the bedside table beside him and handed it to her. She must have looked confused. He lowered his voice. "It's a long, boring story."
"I like stories."
The doctor studied her a moment longer, then nodded. "Short version? We were in the same foster home when we were teenagers. Sort of made our own family after."
Georgia's heart felt like his hand had wrapped around it, squeezing gently. Foster brothers. "And you're spending Christmas together?" Alone? Where were the adoring, super model wives and the beautiful mountain children they each looked capable of creating?
"It's an old tradition we've recently started up again. This cabin has a lot of good memories. I built it when I was nineteen, the summer before I went to college. We added to it a little bit more over the years, when we could. It always feels like home. You know?" His smile held a trace of sadness that didn't fit his words.
She instantly felt pathetically sorry for herself. Home. She vaguely remembered what that felt like. Before her father died. Before she'd lost Grandpa Bale. Her flesh and blood sister hadn't invited her to a holiday in years, her mother barely knew Christmas existed, but these men were spending theirs together. It was a tradition. She took a sip of water. Then another. "I'm sorry, then. For messing up your plans."
He covered her hand as she handed the glass back to him and she felt it like a jolt of electricity through her body. "You saved Flynn's life. You don't have anything to be sorry for."
For once, Georgia was at a loss for words. Words were her trade, her armor, but not a one was coming to mind. Nothing to break the suddenly charged silence. Or to acknowledge the fact that neither of them was releasing the glass. That he was still touching her.
All she could think about was how blue his eyes were. How kind.
"How fares our patient? I see she's finally awake. That has to be a good sign."
Officer Jimmy. Georgia hand dropped from the glass and she glanced up, inwardly drooling. He looked even better out of uniform. His hair was cut short in an almost military fashion, and his white thermal shirt clung to his muscles in a way that almost seemed obscene. Sexual.
Was excessive arousal to every man she saw a side affect of mild hypothermia?
Her handsome doctor sighed and looked over his shoulder. "She's good, James. No frostbite and no permanent damage. You got to her right on time. How's Flynn doing?"
Officer Jimmy smirked. "Definitely going stir crazy already. Said he wanted to see his angel. He's refusing to stay in bed unless he can."
"She's going to be here until the weather improves. He's got plenty of time."
The other man held out his hands helplessly. "Don't tell me, Chris, tell him. He's acting strange, even by Flynn standards. He hasn't even asked about the snowmobile. You know, the speed machine he saved up his pennies for all year? I'm not sure what's gotten into him."
Both men looked directly at her. Oh dear, Georgia pushed her hair behind her ears self-consciously. It didn't take a genius to catch their not-so-subtle hint. They thought Flynn was acting strangely because of her.
Ridiculous. He'd seen her for all of five seconds before slipping back into an unconscious stupor. He did have a head wound. Maybe that explained it.
Georgia caught the mischievous sparkle in the officer's eyes and realized he was enjoying her discomfort. "He won't relax until he sees his angel?" She made a clicking sound with her tongue and Roux instantly sat up, her tongue lolling out expectantly. "Roux, go check on snowmobile guy."
She noticed the men watch as Roux tilted her head, digesting the information, then lope obediently off the bed, past Jimmy and out of the room in search of the man she'd rescued.
Georgia crossed her arms and felt a genuine smile lift her lips for the first time since her flat tire. "She is the angel he's been talking about after all. All I saved was one little tree."
Their doubtful expressions were priceless.
Two days. The wind had been whining for nearly two days before the storm had passed. And now, instead of making her way to her friend's house, Georgia was outside the cabin of the three sexy hunks, playing in the snow that she'd vowed to hate for all eternity.
It was a much-needed outlet. They'd been driving her crazy during their confinement. For more reasons than she could count, and only one that really mattered.
Sex. More precisely, her growing desire for it.
Where was the reclusive grump who penned witty prose but turned up her nose at flagrant flirting? She'd been replaced by a woman she was sure Grandpa Bale would call a trollop. Harlot. Hussy. If only in her dirty little mind.
With every hour her envy for that Charli woman grew. Three gorgeous men hanging on her every word, laughing at her jokes and taking care of her as if she were something precious? It was addictive.
They weren't perfect by any means, these "sort of" brothers. They loved to argue with each other, one-up each other just like any other family she supposed. Though Georgia sensed something just beneath the surface. Something sharper. More painful. All was not brotherly love and sunshine in Doc Williams' cabin. In fact, she'd discovered they'd only renewed this holiday tradition a few years ago. Before that they'd lost touch with each other. Why, she didn't know.
But when things got too tense, Georgia realized she could always distract them. Make them look at her. Flynn watched her as if she were an angel. Jimmy, as if she were a game he really wanted to play. Or a puzzle he was trying to figure out. Chris studied her as if he saw her in a way no one else ever had. And he liked what he saw. They all did.
When she'd studied her face in the mirror that morning, she'd wondered at that. It wouldn't exactly launch a thousand ships. Her chin was a bit too pointy. Her lips full but uneven. Her eyes just an average hazel. She had what her mother called a beauty mark above the right corner of her upper lip.
It was a mark that had been stared at more in the last twenty-four hours alone than it had been in all her thirty-three years.
She shook her head as she watched them each attempting to make the better snowman. For her. They were three beautiful examples of the male species. All of them healthy and normal...and snowbound with nothing and no one to occupy their time but her. Of course she had their undivided attention. And as usual, when given the opportunity, her imagination took the wheel.
She'd never had fantasies so vivid as they'd been the last few nights. Or quite so crowded.
She looked down at herself. Beneath the borrowed snowsuit that hid every curve of her body she was wearing their clothes. They'd brought her bags home along with her, but the men had apparently decided that none of the winter clothing she'd bought for her trip to the mountains would do. Instead she'd spent the last two days in giant pants held up with belts and oversized sweaters donated by each of them.
The strangest part was that instead of making her feel clumpy and unattractive, wearing their clothing made her feel feminine. Sexy. Protected. She could smell them on her all the time now. Their scents. All male. It was almost like torture.
She really needed to get out of here before she jumped one of them over their cozy family breakfast table and embarrassed herself. She made a face and lifted a ball of snow into her gloved hand, staring at it. Unfortunately she was, according to them, well and truly stuck.
The plows would go for the main roads first, so it would be a few more days before power starting coming back on in the cities. Before she could get to her rental and to Connie's house.
The idea of staying longer wasn't unappealing. In fact, it was so appealing it scared her.
These men were trouble.
She walked over to the area they'd cleared for her to sit on. It looked like an oversized tractor tire. She climbed up and settled on top of it just as the man with piercing blue eyes and a beard she wanted to feel scraping along her skin came her way. "Are you too cold, Georgia? Do you need to go inside?"
She shook her head, unable to hide her wide smile. "And miss the creation of my very own snow army? I don't think so, Doc." He didn't seem convinced. "You know you don't have to take care of me anymore. I'm not your patient." She wiggled her be-gloved fingers and pointed down at her borrowed boots. "See? I have all my fingers and toes."
"If you aren't my patient anymore, why do you keep calling me Doc?"
Georgia shrugged. "Habit?" Distance? A way to keep herself from getting used to his kindness, and stem the strong desire to climb him like a tree and never come down again. "Do you want me to stop?"
Chris smiled. "I suppose its better than Officer Jimmy or Snowmobile. It does make me feel a bit like one of the seven dwarves."
Georgia bit her lip to stem her laughter. "Yes, but the best one. Doc was always my favorite."
Her breath stopped when she saw a change come over his expression. "Your favorite?"
When had he gotten so close? He was standing right in front of her, so close the clouds of cool air created by their breaths mingled. Combined. What she should be asking herself is why wasn't she getting up and moving away, but she knew the answer to that already. She was only human after all. And she wanted to be kissed.
He was leaning in close when an icy explosion blasted his neck, its chilly spray decorating her cheek and dripping from her eyelashes. A snowball?
Georgia leaned over to see Flynn standing a few feet away from them, looking innocent as he knelt beside Roux to give her a good scratch. She glared. Her dog was a traitor. Since they'd arrived she'd hardly left Flynn's side.
Flynn winked. "Aren't you glad Roux and I convinced you to come out and play today? Come on, admit it."
Chris growled and wiped the snow off his neck. "You should still be taking it easy, Flynn."
Jimmy looked over from his ridiculous snow self-portrait, complete with an old highway patrol hat, and chuckled. "When have you ever known him to do that, Chris? Besides, he's a sucker for Roux's big brown eyes. The poor dog hasn't been able to run anything but circles around him for days."
"You and my dog have been getting pretty chummy lately, Snowmobile." Georgia tried to sound playful, though she was a little disappointed that her dog had been getting more affection than she was. How silly was it to be jealous of her dog? "I know she's irresistible but I'm still taking her with me when I go, so you shouldn't get too attached."
Flynn tilted his head. "She's not gone yet. We still have time before we have to drop you two off at the orgy palace."
"The orgy palace?" Georgia was blushing again, and not from the cold.
"Flynn, that's enough."
Flynn walked up to them, his dark wavy hair poking out of his ski cap, and patted Chris's back. "You never stop worrying, do you, bro? Never stop giving orders. It's cute in an old mannish kind of way. You should be worrying about the fact that both Jimmy and I are nearly done with our snowmen and you aren't. It looks sort of sad and tiny next to ours. And headless."
"I'm three years older than you not thirty," Chris grumbled, tugging Georgia's cap lower over her ears before turning and heading back to his creation. "And mine isn't overcompensating size-wise. It's the one that will last."
Flynn sat down beside her and lowered his voice as Georgia watched Chris walk away. "He's sensitive about being the oldest. Especially since Jimmy has decided to compete against him this year."
"Compete?"
"Doctor Williams is the strongman champion of Divide. He pretends he only does it to fundraise for the children's wing of the Medical Center, but Jimmy thinks it's more than that." Georgia felt his warm breath on her cheek and shivered. "Which is why he's signed up for next year's games. Thankfully, he waited until I was around so we could both enjoy the old man's response to a little healthy competition."
Georgia watched Jimmy and Chris, their bodies strong and distracting as they bent to scoop up the snow around them. "I was wondering why you were all so huge."
Flynn patted her knee...then left his hand there. "I come by it naturally. And I have no interest in rolling tires around mountainsides or tossing axes. I'm more into speed myself. Which is why I teach skiing and snowboarding, among other things."
"Adrenaline junky?" Georgia snorted and glanced at him sideways. "I never would have guessed."
"Have I said thank you for saving my life, Georgia?"
"Only a few dozen times since I've been here. And I keep telling you---"
"It was Roux, I know," he interrupted. "It's just, well I've never experienced a Christmas miracle before. It's hard to get used to. Especially when it comes in such a beautiful package. A package I really want to unwrap."
Georgia looked up at him in shock. "You do like to go fast."
Roux , distracted by Chris tossing a snowball at Jimmy's snowman, ran over to investigate. Flynn chuckled, watching her. "I do. Wasting time is pointless, especially when I'm not sure how long it will take the others to stake the claim I know they both want to." He shrugged. "And I know you like them, but I know you like me too."
Flynn stared at her with his lovely green eyes. "I want you. I have from the first moment I saw you, concussion notwithstanding. Life is too short to pretend I don't."
Georgia was having that moment. That moment when disbelief and shock warred with arousal and, well, shock, and combined to elicit a single, intense reaction based entirely on self-preservation. Flight. "I---I think I should go back inside after all. I'll make cocoa. Yes. Cocoa sounds good right now."
She hopped off the tire and walked as swiftly as her giant boots would let her, whistling for her dog before opening the door and disappearing inside.
That did not just happen. She'd had another fantasy. Only this time, she wasn't waking up in Chris's bed alone. She looked down at Roux. "What are we going to do now?"
\*\*\*
"Are you trying to spoil us? Not that I mind, of course. Just curious."
Georgia jerked in surprise, hot soapy water splashing on the front of her sweater. Her sweater. She'd come inside, showered and changed into her own clothes before heading into the kitchen to cook for her hosts.
She'd hardly spoken all night.
"Jimmy, you startled me. I was finishing up these dishes. Did you want more coffee?"
The tall officer walked over to the sink, grabbing an extra dishtowel and holding out his hand. "I'll dry. I insist."
She handed him a plate and studied the next as if it were the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. "I'm so glad I got trapped in a house with its own generator. I can't imagine riding out that kind of storm without hot water and power, let alone cooking my Grandpa's famous Bayou Stew."
"Georgia."
His tone was concerned. Determined. She turned her head to meet his gaze and he frowned. "What did Flynn say?"
She tried to shrug, handing him another plate to dry. "Nothing. But speaking of Flynn, I was curious. He called Connie's house the orgy palace. Any particular reason?"
Jimmy appeared startled, then one side of his mouth quirked up. "I think you know, don't you?"
"I do," she muttered, not liking the idea of people talking about her friend behind her back, whatever the reason. "I didn't realize everyone in the state did too."
Jimmy sucked in his lower lip thoughtfully and Georgia tried not to salivate. He had full, sensual lips. Not that she'd been staring. He shook his head. "Not everyone in the state, no. But you just happened to be, trapped, as you put it, in the home of some people who do. We know about Simon and Charli and the others as well."
Georgia knew her mouth had fallen open. "You do?"
"Sure," he nodded. "Three of them co-own the best sporting goods store in Denver, and Connie works with Chris at the hospital. Plus, being an officer of the law has its perks. It's not like they go out of the way to hide it."
Why did this question feel so important? "And what do you think about it?"
"That it's an orgy palace." He laughed when her shoulders drooped. "Aw hell, I'm just kidding, Georgia. I think people deserve to find happiness wherever and however they can. As long as they aren't speeding on my stretch of road, more power to them. From what I've seen, they are genuinely in love with each other. How can that be wrong?"
Now it was Georgia's turn to smile. "That was very non-Neanderthal of you, Officer Jimmy."
His brown eyes sparkled. "Impressed?"
"Terribly."
He took the last plate from her hand, set it down and turned her toward him. "Then maybe you can tell me why you haven't looked any of us in the eye since you went inside."
She felt her cheeks heat. "I just think we've overstayed our welcome, Roux and I. You should be able to have your traditional Christmas together; I should be at Connie's. You've all been so kind, but you hardly know me. You shouldn't spend the holidays with people you hardly know."
A dark expression crossed Jimmy's features. "I spent every Christmas until I was seventeen with people I hardly knew. Or people I didn't want to know. So I could agree with you on principle, I suppose. Though I thought we were all getting to know each other pretty damn well."
He was staring at her mouth. "You, for example, know all of the words to every Christmas movie we've watched since you've been here. Don't deny it, I was watching your lips move. So you love Christmas but pretend you don't. You haven't mentioned your family, other than your grandfather, and you're going to a friend's house in another state to celebrate, so I'm guessing either they are gone or you don't get along with them." He pulled her closer. "You look impossibly mussed and adorable in the mornings, but you shouldn't be approached until you've had a second cup of coffee. You are, quite possibly, one of the sexiest, sassiest women I've met in my life---so much so that I don't even mind the nicknames and teasing, or all this family togetherness, as long as you're here."
First Flynn and now this? "Wow." A part of her was ready to melt into a puddle at his feet, but she didn't trust it. She'd known she was flirting with them, all of them, a little bit. Enjoying their attention. But two of them in one day, three if she counted that powerful moment with Chris when she thought he was going to kiss her. It was just too surreal. "Are you sure you don't want another coffee?"
Jimmy's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure. I'm also sure I'm not letting you out of this kitchen until I do this."
Georgia felt her feet leave the ground and her bottom hit the counter an instant before his mouth was on hers. His hot, hard stomach pressed between her thighs as he kissed her with a skill that had her shutting her eyes to stop the room from spinning.
His lips felt as good as they'd looked. Taste as delicious as she'd imagined they would. Her hands slid up the thick ropes of muscle on his arms and shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt for balance as he gripped her hips.
It was so easy to imagine him taking her. Right here, with his brothers in the other room, wondering where they were. He could drag her body to the edge of the counter, pull down her loose fitting pants and unzip his jeans.
He was so strong he'd have no problem lifting and lowering her onto his cock. Was it as big as the rest of him? She may not know for sure but in her mind it was. And God, was it a tight fit. He would bend his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, and then she would notice that they weren't alone. That Chris and Flynn were watching her. Wanting their turn. Wanting her.
She came back to reality as her body shuddered with the first signs of her impending orgasm. Just from kissing Jimmy. And the blanks her imagination was desperate to fill in. She tore her mouth from his. "Stop."
He was as lost in the moment as she was. "Hell, Georgia. Don't ask me---"
She leaned back, pressing against his shoulders with her hands. "Please."
His jaw dark with arousal and his lips pursed, he nodded and took a step away from her. Georgia looked down. Oh lord, it was as big as the rest of him. The fit of his jeans was leaving nothing to her imagination.
"I'm sorry, Jimmy, I---" What? I can't go on kissing you while I'm thinking about two other men joining in? I can't be as bold and fearless as they all seemed to be? Luckily she didn't have to finish her sentence.
Chris walked in and froze in the doorway. "Everything okay in here?"
Jimmy didn't turn to greet the new arrival. "Fine, Chris. Is it time?"
Time for what? Chris's expression was closed in a way she'd never seen it before. Did he know what they were doing? How could he not? Her lips felt swollen, her cheeks scraped...and she was sitting on the kitchen counter.
Chris ran a hand through his hair. "It's time. Georgia, we're trimming the tree you saved. I thought you might want to join us."
"Sure, okay." There was something going on, something beneath the obvious embarrassment and tension she was feeling. All she knew was that she couldn't refuse. It felt important.
Trimming the tree. Flynn's tree. Maybe it would help her forget what she'd just let herself do. What she wanted to keep doing.
Maybe it would help her forget the look in Chris's eyes when he'd walked in on them just now.
The last thing she wanted was to cause conflict between them because of her misplaced, multiple attractions. Bad holiday karma? Yep. Still there.
Georgia cradled her wine as she sat on the couch in front of the fire. This was the den, the heart of the five-bedroom cabin. Chris had built this room first, he'd told her, after purchasing the small patch of land with his savings from working the two jobs he'd always made sure he had from the time he was fourteen.
It was a big room. Vaulted ceilings adorned with large wooden beams, a fireplace with a knotted, rustic mantle that seemed sadly empty. A home should be filled with pictures of family vacations and birthdays. It shouldn't be lived in only on weekends or holidays. It should always be loud with the sound of laughter and life.
Instead the three men were silent as they brought out that small Charlie Brown Christmas tree from Flynn's room. She'd wondered where it had been. They didn't bring out boxes of colored balls or strings of lights to decorate it. She didn't even see any popcorn to be threaded. What were they planning to trim the tree with?
Flynn looked over at her for a moment before turning back to the tree. The playful man, who couldn't be more than a year or two older than her, seemed suddenly ancient and achingly sad.
"Let's get this over with, Chris," Jimmy snarled softly. He poured four small shot glasses of tequila from a bottle she hadn't noticed until that moment. The fourth glass wasn't handed to her. She sat up straighter, alert, watching them all closely.
Chris nodded. "Agreed." He glanced at Georgia almost apologetically. "We made a promise a few years ago, that we'd do this, on this night, every year."
"Do what?" She was speaking in hushed tones right along with them, as if the cabin had become a cathedral. As if someone were listening in.
Flynn answered. "We remember. And we decorate the saddest, ugliest little dwarf tree we can find. The one no one else would pick to take home if you paid them. The one that, without us, would be alone."
Her eyes welled up at the lost, ragged sound in Flynn's voice, and she knew. It had something to do with their time in foster care. She tried to smile. "Lucky tree."
Flynn smiled back and Chris gave her a look of approval. "Nicholas always thought so. He would insist, even when we could afford better, that we got a tree that would remind us that we were different. That we would look after that tree the way we looked after each other. I think it was because none of us were ever adopted."
Nicholas? Jimmy noticed her confusion, the way he'd noticed everything else. "Nicholas is the reason we made the promise. He was our brother too."
Was. It was clear from his tone that they'd lost him. "When?"
"Three years this past May." Flynn looked down at the tree as if remembering. "He joined the Marines about ten years ago now. Kept volunteering for new tours. He always said that serving his country, being a part of something greater than himself, was the second best decision he'd ever made."
Georgia wanted to put her arms around him. Comfort him. "What was the first?"
Flynn's voice was raspy with emotion. "Leaving with us to come to Colorado. Making our own family."
Jimmy put his hand on Flynn's shoulder, and Chris stood up to stare into the fire, hands in his pockets. "I always wondered if I did the right thing, taking the rest of you with me. I was nineteen, already out of the house when Flynn, the youngest, turned sixteen. The courts considered that old enough to decide where you want to live. Nick was the one who gave me the idea to come here. He carried that damn postcard with a picture of the snow-covered Colorado Rockies in his pocket for as long as I knew him. His good luck charm."
Georgia was crying now. How could she not? They were breaking her heart. She tried to imagine what her life would have been like if she'd never known Grandpa Bale. If she'd never known her family, as distant as they were. Despite her usual abilities...she couldn't. Or she didn't want to.
"Read it already." Jimmy was fiddling with the full shot glass, obviously waiting, obviously impatient.
Chris pulled a folded letter out of his pocket. "Our yearly note from Nick. We have two to read for every year we lived here together. One when we trim our unwanted Christmas tree, and one on Christmas morning, along with his present to us." He glanced at Flynn. "He had one of his friends in the corps promise to bring the packages and instructions to our younger brother if he...if he didn't make it home."
He opened the sealed envelope and cleared his throat. Georgia watched the fire cast shadows over his body, his handsome face, and she felt like she could see the weight he was carrying. Like she knew this Chris, knew all of them, better than she imagined someone could after so short a time.
He began to read. "Hey guys, it's me again. Year three. I remember our third Christmas in the cabin like it was yesterday. Chris was hardly home, working full time and going to college. He still managed to scrape enough money together between us to make it a wonderful Christmas. Even tried to cook a goose, since we'd finally gotten around to seeing A Christmas Carol. We all agreed we would stick with turkey or ham after the fire in the kitchen."
Flynn laughed quietly at the memory. Even Chris smiled at that before continuing.
"Jimmy decided he wanted to be a police officer that year. No one was surprised. Flynn had decided he wanted to do whatever Jimmy was doing. Again, no one was surprised. And me? I think that was the year I realized we were really a family. We fought, but we stayed together. We struggled, but we worked through it."
Chris's whiskey voice was rough. "I wish I knew what happened with us. I know one of you said we all needed to grow up. That our family wasn't meant to last forever. "
Georgia noticed Jimmy look down uncomfortably. Did he feel guilty?
"But that year? That year we were a family. That year Jimmy helped me work on my old mustang. The one that came without doors or brakes? That year Flynn taught me how to ski after he'd spent all morning teaching tourists; slowing down for me again and again, when I knew all he wanted to do was fly. And it was that year that Chris told me he was proud of me for getting the scholarship to DU. Proud. Of me. You'll never know how much it meant to me to make you proud.
"Is Jimmy crying like a girl yet? Probably not. I'll stop talking so he can have that shot...hopefully one of you has brought home a special girl to share it with. None of you should be alone. Always your brother, Nicholas."
Georgia saw Flynn stand over the Christmas tree and reach into his pocket, pulling out a pocket watch on a gold chain. He hung it on one of the sturdiest branches, then took the glass Jimmy handed him and raised it before tipping back his head and swallowing the tequila.
Jimmy took out an old, dented tin sheriff's star and placed it on the tree, cradled between several branches. He toasted the others and took his shot.
Georgia looked at Chris and found him staring, not at his brothers, but her. She didn't hide her tears or wipe them off her cheeks. Nicholas deserved them. He sounded like a hero. One who believed in Christmas miracles as much as she used to.
Chris was the first to look away, placing a keychain that obviously belonged to an old mustang onto the lowest branch of the tree. He hesitated, closing his eyes for a moment before downing his shot as well.
She set down her wine glass and stood, hardly aware of what she was doing. She reached up, under her curls and unclasped the necklace she hadn't taken off in over ten years. The heart-shaped locket that held an image of her and Grandpa Bale on her fifth birthday.
Maybe she should have asked them if it was okay, if it would be too intrusive, but none of them stopped her. The three men watched her place her locket on their tree. A silver locket that glittered like tinsel in the fire's light.
It looked right there, somehow.
A large, warm hand took hers and placed the fourth shot glass in it, wrapping her fingers around it gently. She looked down at the tequila and thought about the man who had written that letter. The man who had the power, in death, to bring a family that had been broken back together again in his name. At least for Christmas.
To Nicholas.
She drank.
The tequila burned down her throat and she gasped, feeling the heat in her limbs almost instantly. She coughed and placed a hand on her chest. So that's how straight tequila tasted. She was more of a frozen margarita girl. Still, it was powerful stuff.
She looked up to find Jimmy and Flynn grinning at her reaction. Jimmy lifted the bottle. "Nick was a lightweight too. But he said the second shot always went down easier."
Was that a dare? Georgia lifted her chin, embracing the lighter mood he offered. She lifted the tiny glass. "I hope he was right."
A few hours later, Georgia decided he had been. The second went down easier. The third was a breeze. Before she could have a fourth she remembered she'd brought a bottle of peppermint schnapps for Connie's famous eggnog in her bag. Unfortunately, she told Flynn about it, so he decided to mix her up one of his special cocktails.
While he and Jimmy were in the kitchen arguing over ingredients, she walked around the living room. She knew she was weaving more than walking, but it felt nice. She wasn't drunk. She was very, very tipsy, but she wasn't drunk. She never drank to excess. In fact, one of her ex-boyfriends had broken up with her because he said she, "didn't know how to party". Lord, she knew how to pick 'em.
Now, of course she'd found the perfect man. Only he was broken up into three, very large delectable pieces. She felt for them, for the pain and loss that she'd recognized in them. And she envied them because they had each other. Though that obviously wasn't always the case.
She traced her finger along the bookshelf, silently reading off the titles in her head. Medical textbooks, science fiction and cooking recipes lined the top shelf. She was just checking out the second row when someone touched her shoulder.
"Thank you, Georgia."
Chris. She turned and smiled. "For what?"
He grimaced. "For helping us trim the tree. For being kind. For distracting Flynn. This time of year is usually hardest on him."
"What a fibber you are." She covered her mouth at his shocked expression. "Oops. I'm sorry. Did I say that out loud?"
His eyebrow lifted. "Are you upset that you called me a liar or that you used a word like fibber?"
"I am a writer, I can use any word I want. I can also make up new ones. Like fibasity. Which I have decided means the audacity of fibbing." Georgia giggled through her fingers. "I probably shouldn't have whatever they're making in the kitchen."
"Probably not," he agreed, moving closer. "And I probably shouldn't still want to kiss you, not after seeing you with James."
Her voice rose up a surprised octave. "But you do?"
He nodded grimly. "I do. Why did you call me a liar?"
What had they been talking about? Georgia searched her memory until a light bulb weakly flared. "The time of year...it's hardest on you. A healer faced with something he couldn't fix. The caretaker who always has to be strong. Stand apart. Be the oldest." He flinched and she raised her hand to his face, loving the way his beard felt against her fingers. "And in case you were wondering, I probably shouldn't still want to kiss you after kissing Jimmy."
Jimmy's voice startled them both. "But she does."
Chris turned around, keeping Georgia behind him. "James, I know what this looks like---"
"Me too," Jimmy quirked his lips. "It looks like our traditionally morbid tree trimming party has taken a turn for the interesting. Flynn, get in here. You're missing all the fun."
Georgia frowned at him. "Why aren't you upset? Was I such a bad kisser?" Oh heaven, had she just said that? She needed to never drink again. Ever.
Flynn arrived in time to watch Jimmy walk over to the couch and sit back lazily, as if he hadn't a care in the world. But Georgia could see the intensity in his eyes. "On the contrary. Chris, I can tell you from experience, she is the best damn kisser this side of the hemisphere. Once you taste her, you can't think of anything else. You won't want to stop."
Had she passed out? Was she dreaming? Why was that idea comforting? Why was it okay to do what she really wanted to in a dream but not in reality? Maybe it was the drinks talking, but Georgia wasn't sure anymore. She sent a wobbly smile to Jimmy. "Thank you."
Flynn glared at all of them. "Damn it, I staked a claim. Wasn't that our old rule? We like the same girl, whoever stakes a claim first gets her and the others back off."
Georgia put her hands on her hips. "If you talk about me like a mining venture again you won't like my reaction. No one can stake a claim on me. And I am not a competition to be won with snowmen or strongman trophies. I make up my own mind. I decide who I want."
Jimmy took a sip of something that looked cool and frothy...and pink. Of course, in his hands, even a girly drink looked incredibly masculine. "But you can't, can you, Georgia? That's why you stopped me from taking our kiss further in the kitchen. That's why you disappeared inside the house this afternoon. You can't decide."
"God, you're good. Seriously, how do you do that?" Georgia was too tipsy to be anything other than impressed by his observations.
Chris let out a soft laugh behind her. "He read a lot of detective novels in his youth."
Flynn nodded, still looking confused, but willing to play along. "He's also watched Sherlock Holmes about a hundred times."
Jimmy made a face. "People-watching is one thing Georgia and I have in common. She watches the three of us the way I watch a potential car thief. Either she's doing research for a new story, or she wants us."
"Us," Flynn clarified. "Orgy palace-style us? Or metaphorically speaking?"
Chris came back into her line of vision again, placing her chin between his fingers so he could look her in the eye. "Is James right? Is that something you think about? Something you want?"
Georgia was sobering up faster than she'd like. She couldn't tell him the truth. They'd think she was beyond perverse. Sure, they weren't technically flesh and blood brothers, but still. "You can have fantasies and not have them come true. It happens to me all the time. It's my vivid imagination. I know that's not the way real life works."
Chris smiled enigmatically. "It isn't? You and I both know of several examples that say you're wrong."
"Wait, Chris, you're going along with this? James is just trying to mess with our heads." Flynn's voice was shocked. But not angry. Not averse.
Jimmy looked up at the tall dark haired Flynn and shook his head. "No messing with anything, Flynn. Just observing. I think we should do as she says. Leave it up to her." He turned back to Georgia. "Do you want to kiss Chris?"
How could she lie? She couldn't. Not tonight. "Yes."
He smiled encouragingly. "And would you like to kiss Flynn?"
She nodded, swallowing hard.
"Can we watch?"
He was the devil sent to tempt her. She should have known from the moment she'd seen him striding her way through the snow. And now it was too late.
"Yes."
She took a breath and, before she could lose her nerve, grabbed the fabric of Chris's shirt and tugged him closer to her. He was so tall she had to stand on tiptoe while he ducked his head just to reach him.
She hesitated, her lips hovering beneath his. "Can I kiss you, Doc?"
His pupils were dilated and his cheeks were flushed with arousal. He wanted this, she knew. Wanted to kiss her. Somehow she knew that the only reason he held back was out of love and loyalty to his brothers.
That only made her want to kiss him more.
She didn't give him a chance to answer, straining her neck upwards and kissing his bearded chin, his neck. The divinely scented spot behind his ear.
He placed his hands on her hips and held her back, mischief sparkling in his brilliant azure eyes. "If I said no, you'd only call me a fibber again."
And then he kissed her. Right in front of Jimmy and Flynn.
At that moment, Georgia was aware that she would never be the same again. And that she might be okay with that.
She discovered some things she hadn't expected within moments of that first kiss. Doc Williams had been hiding his light under a bushel. He was always so restrained, so quietly kind, she'd imagined his kiss would make her feel warm. Like coming home. And it did, but it was so much more than that.
She was on fire. She had no idea he would kiss with such a passionate ferocity. That she would feel the bite of his teeth on her lower lip. That his beard scraping against her, almost roughly, would only add to her desire. As his sensual, industrious tongue sparred and tangled with her own, showing no mercy, she had to admit it. Chris was on hell of a kisser.
His hands slid down her back until he reached the curve of her ass. He squeezed as he lifted her off her toes, as he pressed her against his hardening arousal.
Had she understated his kissing abilities a moment ago? He was perfect.
Georgia also realized something about herself that she'd never known. The lonely hermit who had spent her life out of the spotlight, despite constant requests from her publisher to do book signings or speaking engagements, loved being watched. Maybe it was just them. Just tonight. But knowing Jimmy and Flynn were both watching as Chris destroyed her, as he made filthy, dirty love to her mouth, was a fantasy come true.
It made her feel powerful. And it made her want more.
Chris nipped at her chin, leaving her lips with obvious difficulty. His blue eyes were dark; sparking with a fire she'd only seen glimpses of before. He lowered her to her feet but didn't remove his hands from her body. "James was right, Georgia. I almost couldn't stop. You're so beautiful."
Looking into his eyes, she felt beautiful. She rubbed his biceps and shoulders as she fought to catch her breath. "Ditto, Doc."
Chris chuckled, but his hands tightened on her ass reflexively, subtly rocking her against his erection. "Are you sure you know what's happening? That you haven't had too much to drink? We can still stop. It might kill me, but we can still stop. I don't want anyone to have regrets."
Her heart skipped at his words. He was a good man. A truly decent and honorable man. Where had he---where had they been hiding all her life? "Still being the caretaker?" She grinned up at him, licking her lips. "No regrets. What about you?"
Georgia turned in Chris's arms to study the two other men in the room. Jimmy was leaning forward on the couch, his expression predatory, as though he could pounce at any moment. Flynn, who'd seemed the one with the most reservations, was watching her hungrily, all hesitation apparently gone.
Still, she had to ask. The tequila must have well and truly loosened her tongue. Of course, Chris had helped. "I've wondered about it a lot lately. Haven't you? Having friends who share---a woman or a man---has to make you think about it." She narrowed her gaze on Flynn, who shifted a little uncomfortably on the balls of his feet and a spark of jealousy surprised her. "Some of you may not have to wonder."
Georgia squeezed Chris' hand and then headed in Flynn's direction. She heard Jimmy's surprised exclamation. "You? The one who is always joking about the orgy palace? I just thought you were a prude."
"He's not." Georgia was sure now. "He was jealous. He's experienced it and he wants to again, don't you, Flynn?"
Flynn's jerky nod as she reached him made her hesitate. "Did you care about her? Them? You don't have to do th---"
Flynn slid both his hands in her thick curls and tugged her head back. "I care about you, Georgia. I told you I wanted you. When you ran away, I thought it was because you didn't want me back."
He didn't wait for her response. With her neck arched, Flynn kissed lips already sensitive from Chris's onslaught. He worshipped her with his lips, nibbling and sucking, stroking her teeth and the roof of her mouth with his tongue.
Georgia felt like no part of her had been left unexplored. She was open. Visible and bare in a way she'd never been before. Flynn had sought out speed in his life, with cars, on mountains, on snowmobiles. But with her, he was taking his time. Methodically driving her insane.
Her thighs were shaking, her body aware of every sensation, every touch, every breeze. The intensity of the moment. Of being shared by these men who she'd believed were too beautiful to be real. It was almost too much to take in.
She leaned into his hands, her own clenching at her stomach, desperately wanting to slide between her legs. She needed release. She needed Chris to pump against her. To press her sex against Jimmy's hard stomach. To feel Flynn's cock sliding into her sex. She moaned in distress and pulled away.
"Georgia, honey, you're shaking." Jimmy came up beside them, patting the shell-shocked Flynn's back and reaching out to grab Georgia's clenched hands. "What is it you need?"
"She needs us," Chris answered for her, coming up behind her to lift her into his arms and take her to the couch. He sat down and pulled her across his lap, stroking her heated skin. "She needs release, don't you Georgia?"
She hesitated. She could stop this anytime, she knew. Because she knew them. Knew they wouldn't hold it against her. Wouldn't force her. Days of close quarters, of smelling them on her and dreaming about them, had taken its toll. Now, kissing them, reacting to each of their touches so strongly...it threw her. Was she a harlot after all? Did it matter?
For once, Jimmy wasn't arguing with Chris. "You're right. She needs to come. Flynn, help Chris get her out of those clothes while I get supplies."
Supplies? Georgia wondered hazily as she sat on Chris's lap and he rocked her ass against his cock. Condoms? Handcuffs? Rope? Her mind raced with possibilities.
She sensed Flynn come up beside them moments before her arms were raised in the air and her shirt came off over her head. She glanced down at her bra. It was simple ivory lace covering what she'd always considered to be average breasts. Not too big and not too small. Though if she went by Chris's pleased expression she might have thought they were Playboy-worthy.
Flynn undid the hooks and the bra hung loosely on her shoulders. Chris smiled. "This will be the second time I've seen you naked."
Georgia blushed. "Is it time for another examination, Doctor?"
His jaw clenched, nostril flaring with surprised arousal. Georgia smiled. Oh, he'd had that fantasy, had he? She would have to remember that. "Let's hope this time you're a bit more...thorough."
Flynn pressed his jean-clad erection against her; sliding his hands down her shoulders to push her bra down her arms. He cupped one of her breasts. "Beautiful." He pinched her nipple between his finger and thumb and gently squeezed. "So beautiful. I can't wait to try them. Let him taste them while we get you out of the rest of your clothes."
Blue eyes flared with desire as Chris complied, for once allowing his younger brother's to lead. He leaned forward to take one of her nipples in his mouth and Georgia groaned. "I had a fantasy that started just like this. Okay, maybe more than one."
Flynn had reached around to unbutton her pants and, along with Chris, they lifted her hips to remove them, leaving her in nothing but her special holiday underwear. Red silk, edged with black, the sides decorated with tiny satin ribbons.
Jimmy growled from the edge of the couch. "Keep those on her. She may be the best Christmas present we've ever gotten, guys. Let's take our time unwrapping her."
"Oh, damn." Why did she feel like she could come from his words alone? She didn't want them to wait. She could still feel Chris sucking one of her nipples hard against the roof of his mouth, Flynn had knelt beside the couch, ready to pay homage to her other breast.
Jimmy pulled off his shirt, revealing the dark bronze skin, chest lightly sprinkled with hair...and all those muscles. He licked his lips. "Well, maybe we can take a little peek."
He stepped over the side of the couch and knelt between her legs. The heat from Chris's erection pulsed against her silk covered cheeks as Jimmy lowered himself down. He spread her legs apart and caressed her through the damp fabric with the backs of his fingers. "Fuck, she is so wet, aren't you Georgia? Was this a part of your fantasies? All of our mouths on your body? Tasting you? Taking you in?"
"Yes," she gasped. "Oh, yes."
Her hands reached up to grasp Chris and Flynn's heads, holding them to her breasts as she rocked against Chris's lap, against Jimmy's hand. So good. It felt so good. This was crazy, but there was no way she wanted to stop. Not when she was this close.
Jimmy's voice was deep with his own need. "Then let's make that fantasy come true." He bent his head, his fingers pushing the silk to the side, only to replace it with the soft caress of his lips. His tongue.
He groaned low and loud. "Fucking perfect. Your taste..." And then he was no longer using his mouth to talk.
Georgia cried out at the first thrust of his tongue. She couldn't describe it. Too many sensations. Mouths and hands and tongues, biting and sucking and licking and fucking her. Flynn and Chris were caressing her back, her belly. One hand slid down to press against her clit as Jimmy added two fingers inside her. Stretching her, filling her. Drinking her in.
Her hips were rocking harder now, demanding more. Deeper. Faster. Jimmy used his broad shoulders to spread her legs wider, one finger slipping through her liquid arousal before gliding lower, beneath her panties, along the seam of her ass.
She let out a shocked gasp when he pushed one finger against her there. The place she'd never imagined letting anyone touch. He circled it, pressed, and she felt lightening arc through her body. Was it because it was forbidden? Why did that feel so damn good?
He lifted his mouth. "Let me in, Georgia. Let me show you. Get you ready. Just imagine it. We all know what a good imagination you have. Imagine one of us behind you, one of us in front. Both inside you. Filling you up so completely you don't know where you start and we begin."
Flynn and Chris were both moaning against her breasts. They were imagining it too. Fucking her. Loving her. Taking her together. "Oh, hell."
"No," Jimmy corrected her. "Heaven." And then he was kissing her again, biting the lips of her sex with just enough force to sting, only adding to her arousal. How did they know? How did they all know exactly how she wanted to be touched when she hadn't known herself?
She felt that finger again, pressing for entrance. She breathed out and tried to relax, only to feel her whole body arch uncontrollably when he pushed inside. "It feels... Oh, Jimmy, it feels..."
So much. He was stretching her, bringing every cell, every nerve in her body to life. Too much.
"She's tight," Jimmy pressed his forehead against her thigh. "You're going to have to go slow Flynn, if you don't want to hurt her. Think you can handle that?"
Flynn lifted his mouth from her breast and stared at Jimmy for a long, tense moment. "Yeah. I think I can."
What was happening? Her snow patrol hunk had suddenly become dominant. And Flynn seemed perfectly content to follow his commands. Jimmy thrust and curled two fingers deep inside her, his other still stretching her from behind, as if he were showing her an example of the power he now held over her.
How could she argue when she couldn't think? How could she say no when he was giving her exactly what she wanted?
His strokes grew faster, and Chris lifted his mouth from her breast, taking her mouth the way Jimmy was taking her sex. Devouring her.
Her whole body shuddered hard between them as she came. Jimmy moaned and pressed his mouth deeper, as if loving the richer taste of her orgasm. A hum of pleasure and anticipation vibrating from Chris's lips to her own, as if he were imagining taking her there. Having his turn.
Before she knew what was happening, Georgia was being lifted into Flynn's arms. She felt his smooth skin against her own and wrapped her arms around his neck. When she looked up at him, her body still quaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm, his emerald eyes burned.
She had to know. "Was it two women?"
A pulse ticked at his temple. "No. It was when I still worked for the lodge, before I started teaching on my own. A guest and her fiancé. I taught her to ski and she invited me back to her suite to warm up."
She bit her lower lip. "Did you like it? Sharing?"
Georgia could hear Chris and Jimmy swiftly stripping behind her; her body was already tingling in response to what she knew was coming. But suddenly this seemed incredibly important. Flynn seemed important. As vulnerable as he was aroused.
He held her tighter, his grip nearly bruising in its intensity. "Too much. I thought it would be fun. Experiencing something new. Life was too short. I thought, so why not?" He inhaled slowly. "The idea of giving that to you, that kind of total pleasure? To watch as it completely takes you over...I think it will ruin me for anyone else. That nothing else will be good enough."
She sifted her hands through his thick dark hair and pulled his head down so she could bite his chin. Then she looked into his eyes and smiled. "I was just thinking the same thing."
And she was. This would always be her fantasy. Her memory. If they stopped now it would still have been the best sexual experience of her life. Nothing could top the desire she felt for them, the care they were taking with her.
Nothing.
"Set her down, Flynn." The now familiar whiskey voice made her shiver. Chris.
Flynn obeyed, dropping her legs and letting her slide slowly down his body. She felt the heat and length of his cock against her hip, her stomach, her breasts. She wasn't sure when her feet hit the floor, because she was so focused on the other sensations.
Chris put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him. She felt her eyes widen as she took him in. Doctor Williams was the sexiest redheaded giant she had ever seen. With a smattering of auburn curls, his chest was wide and beautifully sculpted. His waist was narrow, highlighting a body that was made entirely of muscle.
How was he able to treat patients without being accosted by every red-blooded nurse who passed his way?
Her gaze lowered and froze. He was big everywhere. Like Jimmy. Only wider. Thicker. Her mouth watered, her thighs clenched, and just like that, she was needy again. Aching for more.
Chris took his cock in hand and studied her. "I'm calling dibs."
His words forced a surprised laugh from her throat. "What?"
Chris's tone was playful, but his eyes were heated as they glided up and down her body. "Flynn was the first to tell you he wanted you. Jimmy was the first to kiss your lips. To taste your sweetness." He glanced over her shoulder. "I want her too much to wait."
Flynn chuckled. "Told you he was competitive, Georgia."
She turned to see Jimmy staring at him through his long, dark eyelashes. "Not this time, Flynn. Just as needy as the rest of us."
He nodded and Chris took that as his cue, pulling her into his arms and kissing her senseless. He was so big. Once again she was lifted off her feet. It was a sensation she was beginning to love.
She lifted her mouth when they landed back on the large mountain-man sized sofa, Chris lying flat on his back and her on top of him. She was still wearing her damp, slightly twisted red silk panties.
She heard the sound of foil being torn, felt his large hand slide between their bodies. Was he trembling? She raised her head, only to be captured in his deep blue gaze. This was more than just a tipsy experiment. The power of the desire she could see there would have buckled her knees if she were standing.
"Georgia, I..." He closed his eyes and his big body shuddered as she covered his hand with her own, helping him roll the condom down his rigid erection. "I knew you would be a difficult patient."
She tsked playfully. "I'm just trying to help, Doctor. Now, would you like to practice your bedside manner on me, or should we continue?"
He growled, gripping her hips as he guided her to his thick erection. A male hand tugged her panties so far to the side that she heard a small tear, but she didn't care. It was suddenly the sexiest thing in the world to her, the little sign that they didn't want to unwrap their present. Not completely. Not yet.
She felt the head of his cock slip through her wet arousal and she clenched her muscles in anticipation. With his first shallow thrust Georgia began to shiver, her body trying to stretch to accommodate him. She whimpered. "Chris."
His fingers tightened their grip on her hips. "Now she says my name, " he muttered. His voice guttural. "I'm already on the edge, baby. Already...yes, take me. You can take me."
Jimmy's lips caressed her neck, his hands stroking her back. Then Flynn's hands. All of them watching, needing to touch her as she lowered herself onto Chris's thick cock. "Oh God."
She reached out with one hand balanced on the couch, the other reached behind her to stroke a male hip. Jimmy. He hissed. "That's right, Georgia. Let him inside. Show us exactly what you want, exactly what you fantasized about."
His words had her rocking against Chris, feeling her muscles instinctively tighten and release around him as her arousal grew. Jimmy stepped closer and her fingers slid across his hip and onto his erection. She closed her hand around him and tightened. Yes. Oh, yes, she'd fantasized about this.
"You're turn, Flynn." Jimmy's rough comment made Georgia still the motion of her hips.
Chris groaned. "Don't stop, baby. Please. It feels too good."
It did. She could hardly imagine it feeling better. The idea was a little overwhelming. Frightening.
Intriguing.
Flynn's hand on her back grew firm. "Lean forward, Georgia. That's right. Kiss him. Kiss him and feel what I'm going to do to you. Let go."
She leaned forward, pressing her chest against Chris's massive torso and burying her face in his neck. The movement changed the angle of his thrusts just enough to make them both moan in pleasure.
Warm liquid slid across her bottom and into the seam between her cheeks. She felt Flynn's fingers massaging the rounded curve of her ass, her thighs. The liquid started to tingle. "What is that?"
"Peppermint flavored lube," Flynn muttered. "It was a gag gift from a fellow instructor. Had no idea I'd be using it any time soon. But now that I am, I'm going to have to have a taste."
That was the only warning Georgia got. Then she was shouting with shocked laughter and need as Flynn lowered his head and began to lick her skin as if she were his very own candy cane.
Flynn had a talented tongue. He licked his way between the sensitive skin of her upper thigh and the curve of her behind, making her giggle while he let out sounds of enjoyment. Everywhere his tongue touched, the heat and tingling sensations of the peppermint oil increased.
"Whatever you're doing, she loves it," Chris had his jaw clenched tight. "She's squeezing my cock in a death grip. Fuck. Don't stop, Georgia."
More oil, more licking. Georgia was losing herself to it, lifting her bottom higher in the air before lowering it against Chris's hips. And then Flynn stopped her with his hands a little lower than Chris's.
He stretched his fingers wide on her cheeks, spreading them to reveal her most intimate, untouched skin to his gaze. Someone---it had to be Jimmy, but Georgia couldn't look---dropped more oil in the newly revealed space, and Flynn lowered his head.
He was licking her...there.
"What are you...oh, oh---Oh!" Georgia screamed. Another orgasm. Another flash of lightning and heat. Flynn had pushed his tongue inside her, just as Chris had thrust and she was lost and shaking against them.
"I had no idea you were such a dirty bastard, Flynn. Or that Georgia here would love it quite so much." Jimmy came around so she could see him and smiled tightly. "You've got a bad girl streak in there don't you?"
Georgia, still panting, ran her hands through her hair with trembling fingers as she stared at his tempting body. "I didn't think so."
Chris released her hip and reached up to cup one breast in his hand. "That's what makes it so hard to resist. You didn't even know it was there." He thrust upward and groaned hoarsely. "I don't know how much longer I can last, Flynn."
Flynn's voice was just as raw. "That makes two of us."
"Three." She muttered.
"Four," Jimmy corrected, stroking his shaft as he watched the three of them entwined on the couch.
His image blurred as Flynn spread her cheeks again, this time pressing the head of his condom covered erection against her. "Fuck."
"Yes," Flynn panted. "That is the plan."
"I can't believe we're doing this. I can't believe we're doing this." She was repeating the same sentence over and over under her breath, her body quaking like a stray leaf in a storm.
Chris snared her gaze with his own. His face was flushed with restraint, his eyes nearly black now. "If you want us to stop, we can. We won't do anything you don't want us to do."
She tried to laugh but it came out as a choked sound. "That's the problem. I want you to do everything. I've just never...it's so..."
He smiled and reached up to caress her face, pushing her hair behind her ear almost tenderly. "Just breathe, Georgia. We'll take care of you."
Her heart skipped. How did he do that? She took a deep breath, glancing over her shoulder to see Flynn, his teeth gritted as he restrained himself from going further. Held back. For her.
Her own smile grew, still wavery, but real. "Vroom, vroom, Snowmobile. I'm ready when you are."
Male laughter filled the room and delight sparkled in Flynn's green gaze, his lips still shining from the peppermint lube. "You are my kind of angel," he sighed. "I knew I was right."
Her smile turned to a gasp as he began to push passed the tight muscles of her ass, slowly, but powerfully. His shout mingled with hers and Chris's when he made it through. Deep. So deep. With both of them inside her. Moving. Filling. She felt like she would fly apart. Like they were all that was holding her to the earth.
It was painful and beautiful. Perfectly imperfect and too much of not enough. It was indescribable.
"Sonofafuckingbitch," Chris swore, his hands curling into fists, his hips thrusting almost helplessly upward. "Tight. So tight and hot, Georgia you feel so fucking good."
Watching the sweet, kind hunk of a man lose control made Georgia, despite her own sensation overload, feel powerful. Feminine. He was desperate to come. Waiting for her, for them, to join him.
The pain eased and Flynn began to rock against her, moving a little deeper with each stroke. Her neck arched and through the haze she saw Jimmy. He was aroused. Watching her as he stroked himself, matching their rhythm.
She licked her lips, staring at his erection. She was drowning in desire, spinning with it. But her fantasy wasn't complete.
Not without him.
He must have read her expression. He came closer, until he was standing a breath away. Georgia leaned forward and opened her mouth around his cock, closing her eyes at the dark, sinful taste.
Chris bit at her breasts, his thrusts more powerful as he lost himself in the moment. Flynn was saying her name over and over again, like a prayer for restraint as he picked up his rhythm. Jimmy had his hand in her hair, guiding her mouth as his hips thrust gently inside.
Her heartbeat raced in her ears and lights flickered behind her eyes like fireworks. She felt them everywhere. This moment was hers. Theirs. All of them connected. All of them grasping desperately for the pleasure that was just out of reach.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she couldn't help it. It was too much. Too amazing. Beyond all of her fantasies. Chris reached between them again, and she felt his callused fingers pressing against her clit in a way that had her keening against Jimmy's erection, and tightening her sex, making both men shout.
She heard Flynn join them as she tasted the salty rich flavor of Jimmy's orgasm on her tongue. Chris arched so strongly off the couch that he lifted them all up with him, calling out Georgia's name as he found his release.
Flynn's forehead pressed against her shoulder. "Angel face," he whispered, kissing her softly.
Jimmy stepped back and caressed her hair. She couldn't seem to control her limbs. Every inch of her was quivering. As if she'd run a marathon. As if she'd swum the ocean.
As if she'd just had multiple orgasms while three men pleasured her.
She'd collapsed on Chris, but he didn't seem to mind. Her eyes were closed, her lashes damp, and her mind was racing. What would happen now? Would they look at her differently? Would they send her away?
How would she ever recover from something this earth-shattering? This perfect.
She felt Flynn leave her and clung to Chris for a moment, not wanting this to end, before pushing herself up and feeling his body separate from hers. Was it strange, the sudden empty ache inside her? She'd just had the best sex of her life.
She wanted it again. Impossible, she knew. She was exhausted. Rattled. But she didn't think she'd ever been so whole.
Georgia had known all along she was different from other people. A little crazy. She talked to herself, she lived in her imagination...but now her insanity was complete.
Or there really was something in the water.
Chris sat up and put his arm around her. "Georgia? Baby are you okay?"
"Ask me later." Her laugh was watery. Shaky. She wiped her cheeks and pulled her knees up self-consciously. "Where did everyone go?"
Jimmy and Flynn reappeared, with a pitcher of Flynn's peppermint flavored concoction and some towels. Flynn's smile was wicked. "Time for a drink."
Georgia was confused, but definitely in need of a new infusion of liquid courage. "Are we out of clean glasses?"
Those green eyes let her know she was in trouble. "Who needs glasses, angel face? We have you."
\*\*\*
Georgia stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Who was this woman? Her wet hair curled in wild loose ringlets around her head, her cheeks and neck were red with evidence of passionate kisses and razor burn. She had swollen lips and eyes that sparkled in a way she'd never witnessed before.
Was this who they saw when they looked at her?
When they'd come in with Flynn's Peppermint Snowstorm---in honor of how they met, he'd said---she was certain things would get awkward. She hadn't had to worry for long.
Chris, catching the other men's gazes, had quickly scooped her up and carried her to the fireplace. They'd laid her down in front of it and proceeded to pour the chilly concoction on particularly sensitive parts of her body, lapping it up until she was crying out with pleasure. She had no idea how long it lasted, she only knew that it was the most selfless lovemaking session she'd ever experienced. They took nothing. They were completely focused on her.
The water in the sink was still running, she realized with a start. She'd come in to take a shower at their suggestion. They were giving her a moment to collect herself, she knew. Pampering her, while Flynn took Roux out for a walk and put her back in the bedroom, and Jimmy and Chris cleaned up the mess they'd made in front of the fire.
Her skin was sensitive. Everywhere the shower had hit her, everywhere she'd brushed her soap-covered hand had caused a jolt. It was like every nerve ending had been turned on, but someone had forgotten to switch her off.
And the way she ached. In places she never had before. She smiled and turned off the water. It was a feeling she knew she could easily get used to.
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask what you're doing in here."
Georgia jumped, giggling when she saw Jimmy's reflecting in the mirror. He was wearing a patrol hat, a towel, and nothing else. "Officer Jimmy," she batted her eyelashes. "I had no idea the snow patrol was on duty."
He grinned and pulled the hat off his head, running his hand through his hair almost bashfully. "Just wanted to make sure you hadn't gotten lost."
He wanted to make sure she wasn't hiding again. That she didn't regret what they'd just done.
Why was it she could read them all so well? She'd never been like this with anyone. This aware. This in tune. "I wasn't lost, but there's no way you could be sure I wasn't up to something."
His brow furrowed and she winked, fiddling with the fabric of the loosely tucked in towel wrapped around her body. "Not unless you search me."
His eyes darkened with understanding, and he licked his lips. "My searches are known for being thorough."
Georgia dropped her towel, knowing he could see everything. "I have nothing to hide, Officer."
He dropped his hat. He took a step toward her, hesitating as he looked over his shoulder before closing the door to the bathroom. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, ma'am. Put your hands on the counter and spread your legs. Slowly now. Don't make any sudden moves."
Her arousal was already dampening her thighs. Just hearing him speaking in that tone. Knowing she had to submit to him. That she wanted to. Loving that, just like Chris had his secret fantasies about playing Doctor, Jimmy had the same desire to play Sexy Cop. Which was a good thing, because ever since she'd had him in her mouth, she'd been wondering what he would feel like inside her.
She bent over, spreading her legs and placing her hands on the bathroom counter for balance. Then she wiggled her bottom expectantly.
Jimmy groaned. "I could bring you in for being a tease, sweet Georgia. After what we just did in there, I'm wired too tightly for you to play with me."
"But I want to play, Officer." She bit her lip. "Aren't you going to frisk me?"
He came up behind her, ripping his towel off his hips and letting it drop beside hers. That's when she felt it. Hot and hard and long against her back. He definitely wanted to play.
He cupped her softly hanging breasts. "You are a bad girl, Georgia. You know how I know? Because every time I close my eyes now all I can see is you sucking my cock. How greedy you were. God, it was a beautiful thing to watch. But I still wanted more."
She watched as one hand left her breast and slid around behind her, caressing the curve of her ass. "I wanted to be in here." His hand continued to roam until it slipped between her legs, feeling the wet heat there. "I wanted to be in here."
He pressed his lips to her temple. Leaning over her and covering her hands with his. "Even after I'd come, I wanted to get inside you. It doesn't make any sense."
She knew the feeling. She pressed her bottom against him, spreading her legs farther apart. "Come inside," she whispered, watching Jimmy's big body shudder at her words.
He lifted one hand and reached to open the drawer beside her hip. He rummaged through it, stopping to say, "Thank you" before pulling out a condom.
Georgia bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Yes. Again. How could she want more already? They'd created a monster. "Please, Jimmy. Hurry."
He swore, his usual calm command suddenly seeming to desert him. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and met her gaze in the reflection. "You are hell on my control, Georgia."
He pulled her back against him with his hand while his hips thrust hard against her. She cried out, then covered her mouth with her hands, her elbows the only things holding her body off the counter.
Jimmy bent over to whisper in her ear as he continued his slow, long, powerful strokes. "That's right." His words were short bursts of air, matching his thrusts. "You don't want them to hear. You want me to fuck you. Just like this. Hard. Deep. Don't you, bad girl?"
She nodded, loving the way he controlled her body. Loving the roughness.
He smiled. "Jesus, they're right. You are fucking perfect, aren't you? You love this." He slung his hips against her so hard the counter rattled and she saw dark spots in front of her eyes. She did love it. Heaven help her, she seemed to love whatever they did to her.
Her sex clenched around him as she felt the first waves of her climax. Her body was primed now. Ready for pleasure. Jimmy swore. "I wanted this to last longer."
His hips rocked against her, faster now as she moaned and buried her face in her hands. So good. He felt so good.
"Georgia, fuck Georgia---" he let out a short shout before burying his face in her hair, trying to muffle his sounds of ecstasy as he came inside her.
When he lifted his head she looked up, both of them seeing similarly stunned expressions in the mirror. Georgia wasn't sure if she could stand up again. Or how many more orgasms she could have in one night before dying from endorphins.
This much of a good thing didn't happen to Georgia Bale. Especially not in time for her birthday. Not for Christmas.
She was the first to look away, bending down to reach for her towel.
"Georgia, I---"
The knock on the door was loud and obnoxious. "We know you're in there." Flynn shouted jokingly through the door. "No fair having fun without us. You should consider that some of us are younger and have more stamina."
Chris's voice was easily heard behind him. "And some of us our older and have more finely crafted skills."
Jimmy snorted and spoke to the door. "Some of us are police officers and have more guns. We'll be out in a minute." He turned her around, looking for...something. "You okay?"
No. She was pretty sure she was something far more extreme than okay. Okay implied average. Fine. Mediocre. Sane. Normal. Not imagining she could be anything more to these men than a snowbound fling. Not dreaming something like this could last beyond a drunken night or the need for human contact.
No. She was definitely not okay.
"I'm fine."
For a writer, she was also a fairly bad liar.
She woke up slowly, feeling as if every part of her body had been beautifully abused. A small smile curved her lips. So it hadn't been a dream. Her headache was a small price to pay for such an unbelievable night. She hoped her three hosts felt the same. She wasn't sure what she would do if they didn't. If they had regrets.
She frowned.
"I liked it better when you were smiling."
Georgia opened one eye sleepily. Chris. He was smiling. That was a good sign, right? "Good morning."
He shrugged, setting the book he'd been reading on his lap. "Or afternoon."
She sat up too quickly, wishing her head had come with her. She reached for it, aching temples and all. "Afternoon? I'm so sorry. Did Roux---?"
"She's fine. In fact, I think it's safe to say we all have bad cases of puppy love." He lowered his lids, pursing his lips as if holding something back. "She's one smart dog, isn't she? Flynn wants to teach her how to ski."
She suddenly saw an image of her poor dog flying down a hill strapped to snow skis; her black muzzle peeled back is an expression of terror, her eyes wide. "Over my dead body. What are you doing?"
He'd been sitting by the window in her bedroom, reading. Chris's smile was endearing. "Would you believe I was worried about you? We were a little hard on you last night, and you'd just recovered from the ordeal that brought you here." He shrugged. "You're also kind of beautiful when you sleep."
She saw the aspirin and water by her bed and smiled. "Thank you, Doc. This is just what I needed. Other than the teensiest of hangovers, I'm fine."
"I'm glad. I was just thinking of making you a late breakfast. What would you like?"
She glanced at the worn out, dog-eared paperback and gestured toward it. "What are you reading? Is it another science fiction novel? Are you the one who reads those?"
He laughed. "Usually, but not this time. I'm rereading last year's gift from Nicholas, to tell you the truth. It's about a southern girl and her grandfather. Nick loved it. This was actually his copy, which is why it looks so abused. The girl in the story kind of reminds me of you."
Thankful that she was wearing a t-shirt, she pushed back the covers and got off the bed, walking toward him with a sudden, wary heaviness in her heart.
Chris was still talking. "He said this was the first book ever written by the author, and in his opinion the best. That it was like someone poured their whole heart out into this one book, so that there wasn't enough left for the others.
She had a heart. She knew because it felt like a fist was squeezing it to death. "What's it called?"
"Grandpa Bale's Southern Tales. It was written by a G.V. Bale, so maybe it was about a family member---"
She grabbed it out of his hand. "How did you know? I don't even have a headshot in those books."
The look in Chris's blue eyes was genuine shock. "What?"
Even if she did believe he didn't know what she was talking about, there were too many coincidences these last few days to be believed. "This is my book that I wrote about my grandfather. I'm G.V. Bale. Georgia Virginia Bale."
A voice in the doorway had her turning in her tracks. Flynn. "You're kidding me. I thought G.V. Bale was a man. You actually wrote Southern Tales? I can't believe it."
Georgia was in shock. "You read it too?"
Flynn frowned, insulted. "Of course I read it. We all did. It was our Christmas present from Nick. "
"Unbelievable." Georgia wasn't sure why she was so upset. Or why all these new doubts were swirling around in her mind. In the whole state of Colorado, she rescues and is rescued by three men who know Connie, know about her relationships, and offer Georgia a blissful night of her dreams. And to top it all off their dead brother had sent them her book for Christmas? She was expecting a hidden camera at any moment.
"Where's my phone?" She rummaged through her bag, ignoring the two silent men and muttering to herself. There'd been no signal for the last few days, but the storm was over now. "I'm going to get Connie to tell me the truth. Did she tell you about me? Who I was? Was that why you were all so damn..." Perfect?
"What, Georgia?" For the first time since they'd met, Chris sounded angry. He stopped her from searching and turned her around to face him. "You told us you were a writer. We took you at your word that you weren't hiding anything from us, because we didn't hide anything from you. What is going on in that head of yours? Do you think we do this all the time? That we share our family traditions, ourselves with every tourist that passes through?"
She flinched. No, she didn't. But it was Christmas. And she and Christmas had a steady track record of awful. Secretary flasher had only wanted to impress his co-workers with his published girlfriend. He'd admitted it himself. It's not like it hadn't happened before.
Chris let her go and shook his head. "You couldn't have written that book, Georgia. That book is all about love and trust, family and magic. It was why Nick loved it. You don't seem to believe in any of that."
He walked out of the room, leaving Flynn standing in the doorway and her in the middle of the room, her book at her feet. She felt like she'd just been run through with a kitchen knife.
"He didn't mean it, Georgia. He's just hurt. He was already worried you'd wake up this morning saying last night was a mistake. Worried we'd pushed you too far. Maybe that because we all wanted you, we'd all lose you."
She looked over her shoulder in time to see Flynn lean his head against the doorframe and sigh. "Was it a mistake, Georgia? Are you sorry?"
"I'm not sorry." She wasn't. She couldn't bring herself to regret last night. It had been magical. "But he's right too. I'm not the same person who wrote that book."
That person wouldn't push love away. Wouldn't respond to kindness with mistrust. She would have remembered the lessons her grandfather had taught her. To embrace life, because it was short. To embrace love where you found it, because it was rare and precious.
Flynn pushed her hair behind her ear and dipped his head to meet her gaze. "I can see her in you, angel face. I think you're more like her than you know."
They heard a loud roar shake through the cabin, startling both of them. Flynn turned and headed to the den to look out the window. "Hell, that son of a bitch just flattened our snowmen."
She watched him grab his jacket without any further explanation, joining his brothers outside.
Georgia grabbed the nearest pair of pants from her bag, hopping into them on her way to the door. She'd just gotten them zipped when the door opened again, the blast of cold air making her shiver.
She couldn't believe her eyes. "Connie?"
She soon found herself smothered, face first into Connie's more-bountiful-than-she-remembered breasts. "Only you would get marooned in a mountain cabin this far away from civilization your first trip ever out of the state of Louisiana. When you see what I had to ride in to come and get you, you'll make me one of your Grandpa's famous chocolate pecan pies as soon as we get home."
Georgia wrapped her arms around herself as Connie guided her outside to see what a machine that looked like an armored tank from the future, a snowplow and an escalator made babies. "What is that thing?"
A dark haired man with a charming smile jumped out of the driver's seat. "A snowcat. Owner at the lodge loaned it to me. His road's been cleared," he glanced at the men who had gathered around their fallen creations. "Sorry about the snowmen. I didn't see them until it was too late. At least I bring good news. Your road should be cleared by tomorrow."
Georgia bit her lip as the three men continued to stare at Simon, obviously making him feel awkward. He lifted his eyebrows in confusion. "Okay, guys, I know I raised the prices a little this year, but I do have a growing family to feed. Besides, it's sports equipment. It's supposed to be expensive." His gaze landed on Georgia's with something akin to relief. "You must be Georgia. I'm Simon. Connie has been worried sick about you. Literally, if you ask Lee about it. She couldn't wait another day."
Was it bad timing or good? Was her holiday karma still going strong?
Chris turned and walked toward her. No. Toward Connie. "I told you she was fine, Connie. The last thing any of us want is for you to worry for no reason."
Connie did something that, in Georgia's memory, was very un-Connie-like. She started crying. "I know," she sobbed. "I'm a nurse, I understand logically that it's just hormones. But Georgia hasn't had a Christmas since her grandfather died where she wasn't a---"
"Connie," Georgia interrupted, avoiding Chris's penetrating blue eyes. "I'm glad you're here. I'm fine. They've been gracious hosts. More than gracious. So stop worrying."
Connie hugged her again. "I'm scaring you aren't I?"
"A little." Georgia looked at her frazzled friend and chuckled. "But isn't this how all pregnant women act?"
Her friend's jaw dropped. "You can tell? I'm not that far along." She looked down at herself and started sniffling again. "It's my breasts, isn't it? Lori Ann said she couldn't really notice the difference, but I could barely get that seatbelt across them this morning."
She comforted her friend, acknowledging with a silent nod of thanks when Flynn brought out her jacket and placed it over her shoulders.
Simon was talking to Jimmy. "Good thing you took your vacation time this week. Some of your buddies spent the last few days snowed in at the station. You can imagine what a fun slumber party that was."
Jimmy shook his head. "I'll be hearing about it for months to come I'm sure. I should check on them. Make sure they aren't planning any shootouts."
Georgia patted Connie's hand. "I'm just going to go get our things, then we can get you back home where it's warm."
She heard Jimmy's sound of disagreement but kept walking. This was already going to be difficult. Now it would be difficult in front of a friend with matchmaking tendencies and wild hormone fluctuations, as well as a stranger.
It was no surprise when she turned around, her bag over her shoulder, to find the three men right behind her. Jimmy got to her first. "You're going? Just like that?"
Georgia didn't know what to say. "She drove here in a wildebeest of a vehicle, a day before your road would be cleared. Pregnant. Who knows how she'd react if I didn't go."
Jimmy opened his mouth to argue, but Chris shot him down. "She's right, James. Connie is too early in her pregnancy to be this worked up. And she did come to spend Christmas with her...not us."
Jimmy turned to Flynn. "What about you? Are you fine with this?"
Flynn glanced at Chris, then Georgia. "We knew she would be leaving us, Jimmy. And Chris is right. We don't want to be responsible for turning a pregnant woman gray."
Georgia's vision blurred with tears. This was crazy. They were all reacting to the timing. That was all. Last night had been intensely intimate. It was bound to spill over into the next day. "Thank you all. For the snowmen. For bringing me here. For everything."
She quickly kissed Chris and Flynn on the cheek, but Jimmy grabbed her arm. "What the hell is going on? What did I miss?"
"I missed it." She tugged away from his touch regretfully. "I have to go."
She walked out to find Roux poking her head out of Flynn's bedroom. The snowcat, it seemed, had scared her. "Come on, girl. Time to take a ride."
Her tail started wagging. She loved riding in the car. Roux had no idea yet that she was leaving her new best friends for good. That she'd never see them again. She'd be brokenhearted when she figured it out.
Georgia's eyes were caught by a glimmer of silver. Her locket on that raggedy tree. Her throat closed. It was a gift from one of the most wonderful men she'd ever known, but she just couldn't take it with her.
Nicholas deserved it far more than she did.
\*\*\*
She wasn't sure she would ever be able to face Simon again. Georgia sighed as she rolled out the pie dough with a bit more enthusiasm than she needed to. Not that she had any choice in the matter, since he and the rest of his quartet were coming over for dinner tonight.
Christmas Eve.
After they'd gotten on the road and headed out to the ski lodge, Connie's hormones had calmed enough for her to realize something was very wrong with Georgia. It didn't take much for the entire story to spill out into the air for Connie...and Simon to hear.
When she got to the part about her book, her reaction, Connie tried to be understanding, but it was plain to see she was just as confused as Chris had been.
Georgia had known she'd overreacted. That she hadn't needed bad holiday karma to hurt three men who had been nothing but wonderful and kind and generous with her. She'd done the job just fine on her own.
Grandpa Bale would be ashamed to discover that his holiday happy granddaughter had become a Grinch.
She tossed more flour on the damp dough, peeling it off the rolling pin with absent-minded skill as she thought about him. And them. And the book.
If she had taken a moment she might have marveled at the synchronicity of it all. The tree. Their brother. Her book. In fact, someone without her grinchy blinders might call it fate.
She shook her head. Wishful thinking. She hadn't been good enough for that stocking stuffer if you combined all her years on the planet. Who had? Three men just for her? Women everywhere would lead mass protests. Her name would be vilified. They would refuse to have sex with another man again unless she shared the wealth, and a national emergency would be declared.
"I think she's daydreaming again," Lori Ann spoke from the doorway. "That dough hasn't got a chance."
Connie's laughter had her wanting to bury her face in the flour and hide. "She's eccentric. Most writers are. She's either been daydreaming or baking the last few days. Unless she's daydreaming while eating what she's baked. She saves me pieces, so I don't complain."
"Sorry, guys." Watching the happy threesome make baby plans wasn't doing much to lift her spirits. She loved her friend, and she was truly happy for her. But she couldn't stop thinking about the look of disappointment in Chris's eyes. Their sadness when they read the letter from their brother.
Peppermint Schnapps.
"You should talk to Charli." Connie squeezed her from behind, kissing her shoulder affectionately. "If you're wondering how one woman can have a happy ever after kind of relationship with three men, she knows better than anyone."
Georgia shook her head. "It's an entirely different situation. They were all best friends from childhood. They knew each other. Trusted each other. Had matching sets of familiar looking luggage. We just had a few days. One night. Plus they're brothers."
"Foster brothers, honey, that's a really important distinction." Lori Ann smirked, leaning on the counter beside her. "You think that friendship makes it easier? In Charli's mind, it only made things harder. Taking a chance on ruining something vital for something that might not work out."
Connie nodded. "Exactly. And I'm sure I've told you this, but she didn't even realize that they had feelings for her until we pointed it out. You're welcome, Charli. And yes, she still owes us one. I'm thinking babysitting. Lots of babysitting." She tugged one of Georgia's curls and smiled. "Or you could always look at us. I know, it's weird for some people, but we are blissfully happy together. And we didn't grow up together like Charli and Company. The point is, if you find something or someone that makes you happy, how can it be wrong?"
Jimmy had said something almost exactly like that about them. Come to think of it, it reminded her of something Grandpa Bale would say. Had said. It's how he'd always explained marrying her grandmother, even though interracial relationships had been frowned upon back then. Because he'd known, the instant he saw her. And that kind of feeling---even the chance at that kind of a feeling---was worth changing your life for.
Only a coward would run before at least giving it a chance.
She wouldn't be surprised if a frying pan appeared out of thin air and whomped her on the top of her head. "I have to go."
"What?" Lori Ann and Connie spoke in unison.
"Last minute shopping. I'm sorry about the kitchen. I'll be back as soon as I can. Oh, is it okay if Roux stays here?"
She was already on her way out the door before Connie could answer. "Yes, of course but...oh hell."
"Recalculating...Recalculating..."
"You have got to be kidding me, lady." She was driving down a recently cleared road that seemed precarious at best, her face and hands still covered in flour, and the GPS decided, yet again, that it wanted to send her off on a wild goose chase. Or off a cliff.
And she'd been relieved when Lee and Simon had brought back her rental car.
Maybe she should turn around. The weather report said clear skies, but it would be dark soon. She hadn't even brought her gloves. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got there anyway.
"Don't be a coward, Georgia. You were brave enough to call Connie and tell her what you were planning. You couldn't tell her to her face of course, but still, you did it. Now you just have to not crash and die on a hillside before your next Christmas."
She missed her dog. Roux not only made her feel safe, but she was the perfect excuse when people accused her of talking to herself.
Connie had been wonderful. She'd cried a little bit, taken over by the romance of the moment. In the end she believed Georgia was making the right decision. At the very least, she owed them an apology. A conversation. Georgia didn't want to be another person who just left them behind with no explanation. They deserved better.
There was a sharp curve, then the road split off in two directions. The GPS was still recalculating, and Georgia wanted to cry. She pulled over instead. Maybe the thirty miles between here and their cabin was the Bermuda Triangle of Colorado. Maybe an alien mother ship, bored while waiting for the battle on Earth, was screwing with her for laughs.
Maybe the GPS lady was a sign of the coming apocalypse.
She took a deep breath and reminded herself that imagination had a time and place. This was neither. "Let's just give the evil piece of technology a few more minutes, then I'll make Connie put Lee on the phone. He's good with directions."
Here she was again. On the side of the road, with snow all around her and no car in sight. Had it only been six days? One week away from home and it seemed like everything had changed.
Jimmy, Chris and Flynn had changed her. Had reminded her about family, when she had literally written the book on it. Southern Tales had been more than a retelling of Grandpa Bale's best stories; it had been what she'd learned growing up with him. It had been about the kind of person she wanted to be, and how she knew she could do it, because she would never be alone. He would always be there.
And then he wasn't, and Georgia felt betrayed. It had taken her years to figure it out...it had taken three men, three days to show her.
She saw movement in the distance. Something or someone walking toward her from the road that veered off to the left. It was coming closer. And it was big.
Sasquatch?
She grabbed her cell phone, ready to take a picture just in case, when she recognized the auburn beard and heavy flannel jacket. "Chris?"
What was he doing so far from the cabin on foot? She honked her horn once and flashed her lights. He paused, then started jogging in her direction. She put her hand up to her hair. It was a sloppy mass of curls in a loose knot. But there was nothing to do about it now. Maybe he'd be so grateful for the SUV's heater that he wouldn't notice what a mess she was.
He came around the passenger's side and opened the door. "Georgia? What are you doing out here alone?"
She gestured him inside and he sat down, his body twisted so he could face her. Was that worry for her in his eyes, or shock at seeing her again? "I could ask you the same thing."
He shook his head, looking completely bemused. "My truck broke down, which it never does, and I forgot to charge my cell phone so I couldn't call anyone."
"So you decided to walk?"
Chris nodded. "I have a patient who lives less than a mile down that road, and I was going to use her phone to call James. See if I could borrow his car."
Georgia nervously wiped flecks of flour off her hands. "Where are you so determined to go on Christmas Eve? I mean, it's none of my business, but I could take you if you need a ride."
He sighed. "Georgia why were you on the side of the road again?"
She bit her lip. "Aliens?"
"Try again."
She might as well try the truth. "I was trying to get to the cabin and my GPS went all crazy and got me lost." Again.
He took off his gloves and placed his large hand on hers, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Why were you coming to the cabin?"
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I'd rather wait and get the awkward over all at once with all three of you so---"
"Georgia?"
She made a sound of frustration. "Because I'm sorry for what I said that morning. I've just been a wreck since Grandpa Bale died, but I didn't know it. And I thought Christmas hated me, and that what I felt for you was just a big setup for something horrible to happen and I was scared." She took a gasping breath, realizing that she'd been talking so fast that he probably hadn't understood a word.
Was he smiling? "I was coming to see you and bring you back for Christmas. I was willing to bribe Connie by pulling some strings to make sure she got the midwife she wanted..." He paused and took a deep, steadying breath, proving he was just as anxious as she was. "I'm sorry for what I said that morning, too. I overreacted."
"I did too. Why now? Why Christmas Eve?"
"Your book. We all read it again, as well as the dedication. He died right before it was published, didn't he? Your grandfather?" She nodded and he squeezed her hand. "We'd just finished when Jimmy noticed you'd left your locket on the tree. And since none of us could stop thinking about you anyway, I knew I needed to bring you back. At least, I needed to talk to you."
She was thinking about how hard it was to resist his beautiful blue eyes when he smirked. "Georgia, baby? Why do you have flour all over your face?"
"I bake when I'm sexually frustrated."
He let out a surprised bark of laughter and she pulled her hand from his, feigning insult. "It's true. And let's just say Connie is set on chocolate pies until her child is born. It's a wonder I'm not the size of a house after all these years, but then," she licked her lower lip, "I never actually knew enough about what I was missing to be too frustrated about it."
Until now. It was left unspoken but she knew Chris understood.
One moment they were staring at each other, all the longing of the past few days in their eyes---the next he had pulled her across the console to straddle his lap, his mouth on hers.
Finally, she thought. She kissed him like she hadn't seen him in years. And it felt like that. A homecoming. A reunion. A frantic reconciliation.
Chris tugged her shirt up and caressed her back with his hands while his tongue tangled with hers. She could feel the heat of his erection through their jeans, and she didn't want to wait. She couldn't.
She reached down and felt for the lever on the side of the seat. When she pulled it, the passenger seat went flat, and she was on top of him. His grip tightened and he held her above him as though she were a child playing airplane. "What?"
He growled. "Not this time."
Somehow he managed to slip her beneath him on the chair, until he was the one hovering above her. She gasped. "Oh."
"Exactly," Chris muttered. "Last time I was out of control, in every possible way. I didn't get to touch you, to take you the way I wanted to. The way I'd fantasized."
He held himself up by his powerful, thick thighs and undid her pants, tugging them, along with her green silk panties, down to gather around her knees. Georgia inhaled sharply. "You fantasized about taking me in a rental car?"
He laughed leaning his forehead against hers while she helped him unbuckle his belt. "I fantasized about taking you on my own terms. The location was negotiable."
She slipped her hands inside his jeans and wrapped her fingers around his erection. Now it was his turn to gasp. "Fuck, I've missed you, Georgia. Missed reading while you slept. Missed your silly nicknames. Missed your lips."
He kissed her again and Georgia melted. "I missed you too, Doc."
Chris smiled against her mouth before disappearing. He backed his hips out of reach of her touch and bent her legs up to her chest. "Oomph. Chris, what are you doing? Oh."
For a big man he was very flexible. And creative. Georgia pulled his cap off his head and sunk her fingers in his beautiful hair, pressing him closer. He kissed and licked and nipped every inch of her sensitive flesh before filling her with his tongue. Again and again, deep and so clever that Georgia was raising her hips, desperate for more. Lost to his rhythm.
"Chris. Oh, yes, Chris like that. Don't stop." She called out his name as the first rush of pleasure washed over her, and he moaned.
"I need to---baby, I need to---" He swore and struggled to reach his back pocket in the narrow space. He pulled out a condom. She tried to tease him as she shook from her receding orgasm, but she was just too happy to care.
He made a pained face as he slid it on. "I wasn't expecting anything, but when it comes to you it's always best to be prepared."
"Doc the boy scout."
His look was wicked. "Hardly."
When he kissed her, the taste of herself on his tongue was distracting. Decadent. And then he was inside her. Stretching her. In this position he could fill her completely. Deeper than she'd ever experienced. In every possible meaning of the word. And she knew most of them.
The windows fogged as their breathing grew harder. Their moans filling the once pristine SUV. Chris's slow and deep rhythm changed to something more dangerous. Something swifter. And Georgia wanted to move to it.
"I think I like this position," she panted. "Now I understand why yoga is so popular."
Chris laughed and swore and moaned all at the same time. "I'm obviously not doing a good enough job at distracting you. Let's see what we can do about that."
He rose up with his elbows on either side of her head and looked into her eyes with a smile. "Hang on to something."
Georgia screamed his name. Yes. Oh, God, yes, this was what she wanted. Hard and fast and deep as he could go. He pressed his pelvis against her clit, again and again until she thought she might pass out before she came.
She saw fireworks behind her eyes and then fire and lightning arced through her body as she heard Chris join her, falling with her. Coming with her. And it was in that moment that she realized it wasn't the drinks. It wasn't the night. It was them. It was Chris and Jimmy and Flynn. This feeling wasn't a fluke.
In fact, it was even stronger than it had been before.
Chris lifted his head, his chest heaving and kissed her forehead. Her cheeks. Her lips. "We should get dressed and get back to the cabin."
A familiar voice echoed through the radio speakers. "Yes, you should, it's too cold outside for necking."
"Connie?" Georgia squeaked.
"Yes, dear. And while you're at it, maybe you should unhook your cell phone if you plan on rolling around in the car like two teenagers who don't have actual homes to go to." She paused. "Oh, shit, I'm already starting to sound like my mother. Merry Christmas, Georgia. And God bless us, every perverted one."
The dial tone droned around them as they stared at each other in embarrassed silence.
Georgia started laughing.
Chris sighed and moved to open the door, so they could straighten themselves out. "I had no idea cars could call people. Technology should have its limits."
Georgia glared at the GPS. "You said it."
\*\*\*
She didn't think she'd ever enjoyed a Christmas Eve more. When Chris had driven up in her car, both Jimmy and Flynn had come out smiling. They'd hugged her as if she hadn't left so abruptly, though Jimmy did notice that she was a bit more mussed than she should have been for a one-hour car ride.
She'd apologized right away, and they accepted. In fact, Flynn had informed her with a secretive smile, they were counting on Chris to return with her. When they opened the door to the cabin she found out why.
Mistletoe. Mistletoe was everywhere. Hanging from every inch of the wooden rafters, tucked into the bookshelves. Hovering over the door. Jimmy had shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable before saying, "We'd ask you to dance, but not a damn one of us ever learned how."
It was her favorite story. Her grandparents at the Christmas dance. The mistletoe. They'd done that for her? She knew there was only one response to a gesture that incredibly romantic.
She spent the night teaching them to dance.
The lessons were interspersed with long bouts of another physical activity that each man excelled at. And when she'd woken up to more kisses, all blamed on the mistletoe of course, she decided that Christmas was hers again. Her birthday. Her miracle. Her favorite day of the year.
The men had made her breakfast and then, unable to wait, they'd shown her what they'd each bought Roux for Christmas. Three grown men who'd never had a puppy. Roux was going to be spoiled rotten.
So was she.
"I think it's time to open our Christmas present from Nicholas." Flynn was wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a smile, holding a small square box in his hand.
Georgia sat between Jimmy and Chris as Flynn opened the package. On top of the tissue paper was another envelope. His second letter of the year. She leaned her head on Jimmy's shoulder and placed her hand on Chris's thigh, knowing this was still rough on them.
Flynn started to recite the letter. "Merry Christmas, guys. I hope you had a good week together. That you talked. That you finally started making plans to build that indoor swimming pool we talked about, or the movie room. Most of all I hope that you all liked last year's present."
Georgia noticed Chris frown and look her way, unsure. She squeezed his leg to reassure him as Flynn continued. "The reason I hope you liked it, apart from the fact that it's a great book, is that in a not so roundabout way, this year's present relates. You know most of my life story. Heck, you are most of my life story. You know I was given up in the hospital where I was born. That I grew up in the system. You know that not long before I came to live with you and my last set of foster parents, I lived in a home that was worse than the one we left behind."
Georgia wished she could hug the man writing the letter, the little boys they had all been. She didn't know how they did this each year, but if they did, then she would. For them.
"What I never told you was that there was one time, one day, when I gave up. When I was going to run away, and I didn't care where I went or what happened to me. I was in Oklahoma at the time, and I found my way to the train station. I wasn't sure how I was going to afford a ticket, but I'd always wanted to see a train up close, so I went. I sat down next to this older man who was humming to himself and writing a letter. He saw that I was crying and he started talking to me. There was something so kind about him, Chris. You reminded me of him a lot through the years. Steady and good. So I told him everything. He listened to every word, and then he started telling me the most amazing story."
Georgia smiled. She could picture the scene clearly in her mind. A young boy lost in a train station. A kind old man who told stories. It all somehow sounded very familiar.
"We must have talked for hours. He said he was returning home after visiting a friend, but he'd come to the station early, because he liked meeting new people. He talked about his granddaughter, how pretty she was. How smart. That she'd been born on Christmas Day, just like I was."
Georgia gasped and lifted her head, all her instincts on alert. She was born on Christmas day, just as the sun came up, and named after two famous Christmas characters. Christmas had belonged to her, though for a while she'd stopped believing it. Now...Flynn frowned and stopped speaking in concern but she shook her head and urged him to continue.
"In that moment I wished I were her. That I had someone who loved me that much. As it got closer to his time to leave, I knew I had to go back and face my dragons. If I ran, I'd hurt myself and the other kids still in the house would suffer. I had to report the foster parents and protect the others. It was only years later that I realized his story had helped me make that decision. And it was the right one, since it brought me to the three of you."
Flynn stopped again, shaking his head. "He said it was bad, but I had no idea."
"But he went back in," Jimmy smiled fondly. "That was Nick. He never gave up."
"Must have been one hell of a story," Chris murmured.
Flynn nodded and lifted the letter once more. "Before the old man left, he opened his bag and rummaged through it, as if looking for something to write on. I noticed a stack of postcards, the one on top was of the most beautiful mountains I'd ever seen, topped with snow.
He said he had lots of friends that sent him blank postcards with pictures of far off places so he could create his stories. He also told me that Colorado was his favorite postcard, but I could have it, because he could see I was a mountains kind of guy. He wrote his address on it and scribbled a note, and told me that if I ever needed help, or a friend, I could write and he would be there. My present to you this year is my lucky postcard, and that secret. I don't know why I never told you about him. I guess I thought of him as my guardian angel. I didn't want to share him with anyone."
Georgia wiped the tears from her eyes. She was sure now, but she still needed to hold it in her hand. "May I see the postcard, Flynn?"
He handed it to her as he finished the letter. "You're probably all wondering how this relates to the book. Well, I finally started writing him again a year before I joined the Marines. He said he remembered me, remembered that postcard. He also told me his granddaughter was still pretty, still smart, but now she was going to be a famous author. He was so proud of her. So proud that she named the book after him. I bought it as soon as it came out, and wrote to him to tell him about it. That's when I found out he'd died. I always thought I'd see him again. It occurred to me then, that as long as I read his story, in a way he'd still be around. So I've read a little bit every night from that day to this. And I still feel like he's looking out for me. Just like I'll always be looking out for you. That's why I'm giving you this card now. So you'll always know I'm nearby. That's what family is about, right? Being there? See you next year. Love, Your Brother Nicholas."
They all looked at her, but Georgia couldn't speak. She knew she wore the same expression of incredulity that they did. Even as she held the postcard in her hand, she couldn't quite believe it.
The address was Grandpa Bale's. It was the PO Box that he'd used to keep in touch with all his pen pals. When he was in the hospital, Georgia would go there faithfully every other day to bring him new letters from distant friends. He loved getting them.
"Georgia? Honey, how?" Jimmy ran his hands over his face and stood up, trying to take it all in. The way they all were.
Chris's blue eyes were wide, like a child's the first time they come down the stairs Christmas morning. He shook his head, gazing at her in wonder. "Happy Birthday, Georgia."
She cupped one hand over her mouth as she laughed through a fresh wave of tears. When was the last time someone had said that to her on Christmas morning? And had it ever sounded so perfect?
"What did he write?" Everyone looked blankly at Flynn. "Grandpa Bale. What did he write to Nicholas on that postcard?"
"Just three lines." She read the words aloud. Words she'd known by heart most of her life, but she'd never understood the meaning of until now. "Things will get better. You can do anything. You are never alone."
Was it Georgia's imagination that made her believe that her guardian angel and theirs had reunited and decided to do a little matchmaking? Or that somehow, someway, they were always supposed to meet?
Maybe. Maybe not. But as her mountain men came closer to wrap their big arms around her, all of them awestruck by this day, Georgia was sure of one thing.
It wasn't something in the water. It was so much more. And even though she wasn't sure what the road ahead had in store for the four of them, what she felt with them and for them, was worth fighting for.
She looked up at the mistletoe and smiled through her tears.
So worth it.
R.G. Alexander (aka Rachel Grace) is a bestselling author who has written over 20+ books in the erotic paranormal, contemporary and sci-fi/fantasy genres for multiple epublishers and Berkley Heat.
She has lived all over the United States, studied archaeology and mythology, been a nurse and a vocalist, and now? A writer who dreams of vampires, witches and airship battles, and feels lucky everyday that she gets to share her stories with her readers. She is happily married to a talented chef who is her best friend, her research assistant, and the love of her life.
To Contact The Author:
Keep reading for an excerpt from the first book in this series.
Three For Me?
By R. G. Alexander
"And do you, Lee Ronald Barrow, Connie Lynn MacIntosh and Lori Annette Shelton, take each other to be husband and wives? Will you honor and keep one another, forsaking all others, for as long as the three of you shall live?"
"I do."
"I do."
"Me three."
Charli snorted at Lori Ann's response, and the small, quiet gathering began to chuckle. Including the notary public who was performing the intimate beach wedding. Lee quelled her with a look over his silver-framed glasses and she lowered her head apologetically while the ceremony continued.
This was a little surreal. It was weird enough that Lee was marrying both his long-time girlfriends. Well, technically only Connie, though they'd both signed a pre-nup that included Lori Ann. But to make matters worse, he'd asked Charli to be the best man. Her. Not Eric or Rafael, not even Simon. No. Out of all his childhood friends, Lee chose his only female buddy for the job.
She glanced at her fellow groomsmen through her lashes. Even in Hawaiian-print shorts, sleeveless tuxedo jackets and bow ties, the height of fashion for the Key West wedding elite, they were a stunning group of men.
Her men.
They'd been best friends for as long as she could remember---since the sixth grade. Protecting one another from school bullies and distant parents, celebrating successes and commiserating over heartbreaks. Always together.
Lee had been the last one to join their motley crew...and the first one to leave it. She sighed. Oh they would still hang out, and it wasn't as if Connie and Lori Ann weren't wonderful, but it wouldn't be the same.
This was the beginning of the end. Pretty soon the others would catch the settling-down bug. They were all sexy, successful men in their prime. They wouldn't be single long. And then Charli would be alone. No more camping trips, no more Thursday night couch-potato parties. Not for her.
Was she a horrible person to think that? To selfishly worry about herself instead of wishing them well? Probably. But damn it, she hated change.
"Wake up, Chuck." Simon nudged her, and she looked up, blushing at the expectant stares aimed her way.
"Oh!" She slipped her fingers into the too small shorts she'd stupidly allowed the boys to purchase for her, pulling out the three engraved rings. "Sorry."
Connie giggled, and Lee just rolled his eyes, smiling as he took the rings from Charli's clammy hands. She saw the awkward, gangly youth from her childhood in that smile, and her eye's misted as he spoke his vows. Simple, honest and with just enough humor to be perfectly Lee.
"Let the love that these three have found with one another be nurtured and supported by all who stand witness here today. Love is a rare gift. It comes in many packages and forms, each one unique...each one a blessing."
First Connie, then Lori Ann, were given a thorough and passionate kiss by their new husband. Charli's eyebrows touched her hairline when the two women wrapped their arms around each other and, without any hesitation, pressed their lips together softly, tenderly.
Rafael, always the one with the fewest inhibitions, let out a loud wolf whistle. "I think I speak for every man here when I say, amen to that."
Charli leaned around Simon to whack Raf in the stomach. "Way to ruin a moment, Mr. Romance."
"Hey, I'm romantic. Ask anyone."
"Don't you mean ask everyone?" Charli heard Eric's low mutter, and her brow crinkled with worry.
He'd had such a hard time when Rafael admitted his bisexuality to the group. Eric and Raf had been inseparable before then. Now, even though it was five years since his drunken announcement, things still weren't the same between them. And that pot had been stirred by Connie and Lori Ann's obvious affection for one another.
Did she mention she hated change?
"Thank you all for coming. Now let's get to the boat before they leave without us. Next stop, Cozumel!" Connie did a little dance in the sand, both the brides turning to throw their bouquets at the small crowd of family and friends.
Lori Ann's was caught by Lee's Aunt Kelly, the only member of his family to RSVP. She'd told them that black sheep had to stick together, but Charli was grateful that Lee had her to lean on. They all leaned on her. Including Charli, who'd lived under her roof from the time she was fifteen until she graduated from high school. Everyone needed an Aunt Kelly.
She was grinning at the fifty-three-year-old beauty, who was holding up her prize and whooping as though she'd won the lottery, when she saw a missile of orchids and lavender flying her way.
Charli's hands came up with the instincts of a seasoned catcher, saving her face from certain flowery doom. She looked down at the dainty design. Hell.
"Nice catch."
"That's why she's the best man."
"Guess you're next, Chuck."
Charli glared at them all in turn, saving her meanest look for Simon, who just raised his eyebrow and smirked. He drove her crazy, for too many reasons to count. Not the least of which was his persistence in taking her already-masculine name, and butching it up.
Connie squealed and Charli glanced up to see Lee heft her and Lori Ann over each shoulder, carrying them easily up the sandy incline to the Conch Train, the tourist tram that would take them back to the cruise ship.
"Wait, you guys, I promised Lee I'd get a picture of the four of you in those great outfits. Scrunch in together."
Three pairs of strong male hands pulled her close at Kelly's command, right in the middle. She closed her eyes at their heat. God, they smelled good. All of them. She was sick from breakfast. That must be what it was. Why she had this sudden desire to rub up against them. Heck, maybe weddings screwed with her hormones. Reminded her that she was a girl.
"Wait, Aunt Kelly. We need one more. Take it off guys." Rafael waggled his eyebrows at Charli, unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket and shirt with all the flair of a table dancer.
"Oh. I'm so hot. You're turning me on." Her monotone delivery set all of them guffawing, and she smiled. This was how it should be. All light and fun and none of them having any idea what she was really thinking. Sad, but being friends with a group of horny hunks made you keep some things to yourself.
They all turned toward her with their arms spread and Charli nearly fell over laughing. "Oh my God. When did you get those?"
Simon, Eric and Raf grinned at her delight. They were all sporting red T-shirts covered in gold and orange flames. The black lettering was bold and unmistakable. Her eyes blurred again, this time with tears of mirth.
Charli's Devils.
Lee's aunt snapped the picture. "Priceless."
Yes, Charli thought. They were.
"I'm so glad I brought an extra one along. I knew you'd look this sexy in a bikini."
"I can't believe they're real. I'd kill for a pair like that."
Charli was going to kill Lee. Shouldn't he be in his honeymoon suite, doing insanely kinky things with his new brides? Instead, he and the other guys had disappeared, leaving her alone with Lori Ann and Connie. They'd talked her into a little sun bathing by the pool. And apparently, her faded blue one-piece wasn't allowed to the party.
She adjusted the narrow triangles that she was sure barely covered her nipples. Connie had a nice figure, but the bikini top was too small. The bane of Charli's existence had always been her breasts. No matter how compact or sporty the rest of her body was from a lifetime of playing with the boys, her breasts never shrank a single cup size. "Porn breasts" Lee had called them once. Before Simon and Eric had socked him in the jaw.
"Oh relax, Charli. Just lay back, enjoy our complimentary wedding margaritas and tell us all about Lee when he was a randy teen." Connie's laughter was infectious, and soon enough, whether it was from the alcohol or the company, Charli found herself relaxing. And sharing stories.
"You---you mean he actually thought his...that it was...?"
"I swear. And he was too afraid the doctor would tell his mother, so Simon and I had to drive him to the next town while Eric and Raf covered for him with that ridiculous fish story."
Lori Ann spurted out her margarita, and the three girls wailed in renewed humor as they toweled her off. "You'd think that thing was made of gold the way men go on about it."
Connie's smile was sly. "Well, Lee's is certainly worth its weight in gold. The things he can do...mmmmmm."
"Lalalala. TMI, people. Friend and business partner over here. I don't need to know anything about what he can do with any of his bits and pieces."
Lori Ann tilted her head at Charli. "Come on, girl. What are you, made of stone? You've been surrounded by four of the finest men on the planet. When Lee first introduced me to your group I almost climaxed before dessert. And you not only work with Simon, but you spend most of your free time connected to all three at their hips. Tell me you haven't fantasized about one or more of them in all the time you've known them, and I'll tell you I have some ex-girlfriends you might be interested in."
Charli choked on her drink. It was hard to get used to female gossip. She'd never been good at it. The curse of being a tomboy. Give her a fishing rod or a mountain to climb, but please God, save her from the conversations in the ladies' room. "Of course I know they're gorgeous. I'm the one all their wannabe girlfriends chum up to in order to get me to put in a good word. But we've been friends forever. And some things are more important than my sex life, or lack thereof."
Connie frowned. "See, that's what I don't get. You're every man's wet dream. You love football, you have the body of a pole dancer, no offense, and you co-own a chain of fantastically popular sporting-goods stores. How are you still single?"
Charli snorted. "Ever had older brothers?" Both girls shook their heads. "Well I have four. Four very overprotective, irritating, but good-intentioned brothers. To be fair, Lee's never really jumped on that bandwagon. But there hasn't been a man yet who can get through the tests."
"Tests?" both girls spoke in unison. Lori Ann filled Charli's glass with more frozen margarita.
She nodded. "They have a system. Eric goes for the brains. He grills them, tests them, tries to trip them up. If they get through a conversation with him, Raf takes over. He's so over the top, you never know if he's going to humiliate them or hit on them, or both. If the man is determined enough to survive that encounter, the heavy hitter is called in."
Connie placed the back of her hand on her forehead, pretending to swoon. "Simon. That is one tall, dark and handsome hunk of man."
Charli rolled her eyes, though she secretly agreed. "Yeah, he's a legend in his own mind. Mister Universe scares the pants out of any suitors left standing and, poof, no sex life for Charli."
Lori Ann shook her head as if to clear it from its margarita fog. "So wait a second. You're saying that your quote, unquote friends scare all your dates away? That would seriously piss me off. Why do you let them anywhere near a prospective boyfriend? Sounds like your safest bet would be to avoid introducing them altogether."
"I could never do that." Charli's tone was adamant. "I mean, it drives me crazy, but on the other hand, why would I want someone who can't handle the guys? They're my best friends. Simon, Eric, Raf, they are my family. Lee too. Hands down, I'd choose them every time."
Connie held up her hand. "I may be drunk and giddy with newly married bliss, but I have a theory." She weaved a bit in her lounger before pointing at Charli. "You love them."
"Of course I love them."
"No, no. You love them."
Charli sat up straighter. "Don't be ridiculous. We're practically related."
Lori Ann shook her head. "Not even a little related. I'm a nurse, I know these things. And love them or not, you definitely want them. All three of them."
This was ridiculous. "Three? If we're being delusional why not add Lee to my fantasy list?"
"You don't want Lee. Trust me, we'd have been able to tell. No, with him you're right. You love him like a brother, and he feels the same about you. But it's more than obvious that the rest of you have...tension."
Charli was squirming in her chair. Men were so much simpler. They didn't pick up subtle hints, or notice things you didn't want them to notice. Not usually. And if they did they were too much of a guy to bother you by mentioning it. "Tension?"
Connie fanned herself. "Oh yeah. If you could only see the looks you get when your back is turned. Lava hot, girlfriend."
"Who looks at me?"
"They all do, Charli. Simon, Eric, Rafael. As far as they're concerned there are no other women when you're around. Much to the chagrin of the female population of Denver."
"See? Now I know you're lying. They've brought dates to our get-togethers. I've seen them pick up girls in bars. Hell, we have each other's house keys. And let me tell you, from the amount of women and men I've seen passing through the revolving doors they call bedrooms, none of them are suffering."
Lori Ann popped a strawberry into her mouth, chewing and swallowing before she spoke. "Have you seen any of that recently? Cause we've been with Lee for about two years now, and the only woman we've seen them with, apart from us, is you. Rafael, for all his bluster, hasn't brought anyone around either. Think about it."
She thought about it. They were right. The guys hadn't brought many dates around recently. And Lord knew they hadn't let a man within ten feet of her. Maybe they were just burnt out on dating. Maybe they'd gotten into a rut. Who knew? Whatever the case, the girls were wrong. It had nothing to do with her.
But were they right about her own feelings? She thought of the brooding Simon, his protectiveness, his fiery blue eyes. Shy Eric, the English professor with the looks of a blond Adonis, and a wit and intellect that always amazed her. And Rafael. Raf. His olive skin and dark eyes made her drool, but it was his sense of humor and irreverence that she loved. He always made her laugh.
Oh brother. She was in trouble.
"Look, I know you mean well, and you may be right. Any woman who's known them for more than five minutes develops a crush on at least one of them. So I'm human. But that doesn't mean anything is going to happen." She shrugged. "I'm not like you, I'm not really good at...sharing. No doubt a flaw on my end, but there you go."
Connie came to sit beside her, throwing a friendly arm over her shoulders. "Love comes in many packages. I wrote that myself. However you find it, if it makes you as happy as we are, then it's the right one for you."
Charli closed her eyes on a groan. "If I could find a package that wrapped them all up into one guy I'd be happy. Together they'd make the perfect man."
"Now there's a fantasy." The three women toasted the thought, giggling.
"Care to share the joke?"
Now it was Charli's turn to spill her drink. Icy strawberry margarita soaked her fingers and covered her thighs. "Damn it."
"Oops. We'll go get some napkins." Connie and Lori Ann jumped up faster than was wise considering how much they'd been drinking, and disappeared in a wobbly mass of giggling female.
"Wow. You're a mess, Chuck."
"Thank you, Simon. I don't know what I'd do without you to point these things out to me. Are you going to help or just mock from afar?"
Simon chuckled, pulling off his T-shirt and using it to wipe her thighs. God, he was gorgeous. "Help, of course. You think the girls are happy? Lee is feeling no pain. Everybody and their brother has bought him a round to celebrate. If people really liked him they would buy him a few rounds of coffee, otherwise his wedding night will be a hazy memory of porcelain-god worshipping and pain."
Charli nodded, licking the cool sticky liquid off her fingers. "It's true."
"What's true?"
Charli looked down, noticing that Simon was still rubbing her legs with his cotton shirt. Rubbing in a slow, circular caress that was kind of turning her on. Kind of? She snorted. Who was she fooling? "That you shouldn't drink on your wedding night."
"Uh-huh. Need any help with that?"
"With what?" Charli caught his gaze. He was looking at her fingers still dripping with margarita. Before she had a chance to refuse, Simon reached out to grip her wrist, pulling it toward his mouth.
Oh. My. God. Charli didn't move, barely breathed as he slipped her fingers one by one into his mouth. And sucked. She pressed her thighs together, unwilling heat filling her belly, her sex. A small whimper escaped her throat, and Simon's eyes darkened.
A loud screech, followed by several splashes from the nearby pool caused Charli to jerk her hand back. "Thanks, Simon." Her laugh sounded forced, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She took his T-shirt and finished wiping herself off before handing it back to him. "I think I've had a little too much to drink myself. Connie and Lori Ann are a bad influence."
Simon stood, his expression affable as ever, unless she looked in his eyes. They were telling a different story. "Well, that's why this floating party boat was such a good idea. No need to worry about having too much fun, Chuck. This time you won't have to be the designated driver. Even though, you know me, I'd rather be camping."
"I hear ya." Thank heavens they were back on familiar ground. "Hey, make sure you tell the boys not to have too much fun tonight. I need all of you at your best tomorrow."
"That's right. The shore excursion in Cozumel."
Charli nodded, rubbing her hands together. The Race Fantastique. Apart from the wedding, it was what had convinced her to hand the business over to the supervisors and come on this cruise. It was just like the television show, a scavenger hunt on speed. It would take brains and charm and stamina. And she had the perfect men for the job. "We're going to win that race. We're an unbeatable team."
"Yes. We are. I'll fill them in."
Simon turned to walk away, his shirt balled up in his fists, and Charli groaned. What the hell was that? Other than one of the sexiest things that had ever happened to her. And how sad and pathetic was that truth? Very. Maybe when she got home from this vacation, she would rethink running a man through the friend gauntlet. She needed something, and it damn sure wasn't a friendly peck on the cheek. Or finger sucking. Though that was nice.
Charli needed a man. One man. If she said that to herself enough times, she might start to believe it.
Three For Me?
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