Unconventional

by Krista Wolf

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  1 - Madison

  2 - Madison

  3 - Madison

  4 - Madison

  5 - Noah

  6 - Madison

  7 - Madison

  8 - Madison

  9 - Chase

  10 - Madison

  11 - Madison

  12 - Madison

  13 - Madison

  14 - Madison

  15 - Madison

  16 - Madison

  17 - Julian

  18 - Madison

  19 - Madison

  20 - Noah

  21 - Madison

  22 - Madison

  23 - Madison

  24 - Madison

  25 - Chase

  26 - Madison

  27 - Madison

  28 - Madison

  29 - Madison

  30 - Madison

  31 - Madison

  32 - Madison

  33 - Julian

  34 - Madison

  35 - Madison

  36 - Madison

  37 - Noah

  38 - Madison

  39 - Madison

  40 - Madison

  41 - Madison

  42 - Madison

  43 - Madison

  44 - Chase

  45 - Madison

  46 - Madison

  47 - Madison

  48 - Madison

  49 - Madison

  50 - Madison

  51 - Madison

  52 - Noah

  53 - Julian

  54 - Chase

  55 - Madison

  56 - Madison

  57 - Madison

  58 - Madison

  59 - Madison

  60 - Madison

  61 - Noah

  62 - Madison

  63 - Madison

  64 - Madison

  65 - Madison

  66 - Madison

  67 - Madison

  68 - Madison

  69 - Madison

  Epilogue

  Sharing Hannah

  About the Author

  UNCONVENTIONAL

  A Reverse

  Harem Romance

  Krista Wolf

  Copyright © 2019 Krista Wolf

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without prior consent of the author.

  Cover photography by: Wander Aguiar

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  ~ Other Books by Krista Wolf ~

  Quadruple Duty

  Quadruple Duty II - All or Nothing

  Shared

  Snowed In

  Unwrapping Holly

  Protecting Dallas

  The Arrangement

  Three Alpha Romeo

  What Happens in Vegas

  Sharing Hannah

  One

  MADISON

  “Ah, thank you…”

  I watched as his Adam’s apple did its thing, his sexy neck flexing and pulsing as the cool liquid slid down his handsome throat. He finished the entire glass at once — he always did — which made me realize the man was a lot thirstier than he ever let on.

  My God. He’s gorgeous.

  My head stonemason wiped his mouth with the back of one tattooed forearm arm before handing back the empty glass. And then suddenly, there it was. The one thing I’d been waiting on all morning, that made every day complete:

  Julian smiled at me.

  “You know this is the best lemonade in all of Scotland,” he said this time.

  “This is the only lemonade in Scotland,” I giggled. “Unless you count the fizzy yellow carbonated stuff they call lemonade here. Which of course, we both know it isn’t.”

  “Nobody counts that stuff,” Julian said with a sly wink. God, his eyes were mesmerizing. Two stormy, blue-grey orbs I could get lost in for days, if I actually had days to get lost in them.

  He turned and went back to work without another word, which was always a double-edged sword. On one hand it meant no more talking, no flirting, no anything other than the thirty seconds of interaction I looked forward to each day. On the other, it meant I got to watch him get back to work…

  Julian was every girl’s wettest dream. Six-foot three, with thick, dirty blond hair that was long on top, short on the sides. His body seemed sculpted from the same stone he lifted and mortared every day, and as a result he had muscles on top of muscles. His thick, broad shoulders tapered down into two gargantuan arms, with biceps and triceps covered in a panty-melting array of sizzling hot, black-and-grey tattoos.

  “Another?”

  Julian shook his head as he always did, and I said goodbye. He’d already turned his shirtless back, which was every bit as beautiful as his front… right on down to the two little dimples just above the line of his gloriously tight blue jeans.

  Holy. Shit.

  It was the same thought I’d had yesterday. The same thought as every day, when I delivered ice water or lemonade to the hard-working crew of Westgate Castle.

  Because yeah, that’s right. I owned a castle.

  In Scotland, for fuck’s sake.

  More accurately, I’d inherited one. Or even more accurate than that, it was a castle-in-progress. One that I needed to bring to a certain standard of renovations within a certain timeline, or I’d lose the chance to keep it.

  Talk about pressure.

  None of this was something I’d even remotely planned on doing, especially while growing up spoiled in California. Two years ago, from my cabana-striped towel on Santa Monica beach? I would have laughed my ass off at the very idea.

  And yet here I was, crossing through the inner courtyard of a fourteenth-century castle. Carrying a tray of ice-cold lemonade across flagstones that were seven centuries in the ground, to another pair of laborers hard at work refinishing the keep’s ancient stone staircase.

  “Just in time!”

  Noah wiped his brow much the same way Julian had. He pulled off his work gloves and elbowed his partner, who dropped his sledge and spun to face me with the most incredible green eyes in the universe.

  “You saved us again,” Chase grinned.

  They took two glasses from the tray, downed them, then took two more. It was always the same with them as well. Right down to my appreciation of their shirtless, sweat-covered bodies… and my anticipation of their two radiant smiles.

  “What happened to the electricians?” asked Noah, in the thickest of all New York accents.

  “They finished up,” I lied, my eyes crawling over every chiseled ridge of his washboard stomach. “For now, anyway.”

  “And the groundskeeper?” added Chase. “I haven’t seen him since the week before last. And that little guy who was with him…” He snapped his fingers a few times to help remember. “David. That was his name. Or maybe Damien, or—”

  “Darius,” I said. “His name was Darius.”

  Noah squinted back at me. “Was?”

  “Apparently they had another job lined up,” I recovered quickly. “They might be back though… depending on if they finish by the end of summer.”

  I couldn’t tell whether or not they believed me. I wouldn’t have believed me.

  “Well, better get someone to repair the road in front of the gates,” said Noah. He pulled four big fingers through his thick mop of blond hair. “It floods every single time it rains.”

  He smiled at me before returning to work, and for one beautiful moment his starfire eyes lingered on mine. I thought about what it would be like to crush my mouth against those perfect, tantalizing lips. Or how it migh
t feel to press my face against that hard, quivering abdomen…

  Then he was heaving his hammer high overhead, and smashing away another piece of history.

  “Hey.”

  I turned and Chase was there, his two emerald orbs rendering me instantly helpless. He had the jawline of a Greek god, and cheekbones to match. One masculine hand scratching at a dark patch of super-hot stubble was the only thing that broke me from my trance.

  “Things are getting a little thin around here, no?”

  I couldn’t look away. Two big arms rested on the mighty sledge, propped up tall between his legs.

  “T—Thin?”

  “Yeah,” he smiled. “Used to be a full crew. Lots of work going on. Lately though, seems like we’re… dwindling.”

  The scent of him was driving me wild. Sweat, steel, leather… and something else. Something so manly it was making my knees weak.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I smiled back, trying not to overdo it. “Temporary lull. Ebbs and flows.”

  Without thinking, I reached out and laid a hand on his deeply-tanned shoulder. It felt like touching a marble statue.

  Oh my God…

  I saw those amazing eyes dip down my body. They took their time coming back up, stopping at more than a few places along the way.

  “Ebbs and flows,” Chase grinned, before twisting away.

  Two

  MADISON

  “I’m sorry, but you’re overextended. There’s nothing more we can do.”

  The loan officer’s words echoed in my mind as I drove slowly home from the third and final bank. I was officially out of options. Down to the very last of my savings.

  And I wasn’t anywhere near able to pass the inspections required for historical status.

  Glumly the reality of my situation began to sink in. I’d miss the deadlines, and lose the property rights. They’d go straight back up for auction again, only this time, they’d be purchased by people with far more resources than me.

  Hey, look. It’s not your fault.

  It wasn’t, really. No one could’ve predicted my uncle’s illness. He got sick so suddenly, and faded so fast. And it was so sad, too. So cold and lonely, trying to care for him all by myself.

  And when he was finally gone… somehow care for the castle, too.

  Even with the money he left behind, it wasn’t nearly enough to finish the project. It would be several years of backbreaking work, down the drain. My uncle’s last great love, ultimately unfinished. His final legacy, lost.

  And certainly not for a lack of trying.

  Maybe you could check with another bank. Or maybe—

  It was really no use arguing with myself. Trying to figure out a way to somehow keep the payment schedule and finish renovating the property as per the government-issued requirements. That was the hard part, really. I could fight off bill collectors or I could fight off inspectors, but definitely not both.

  It was just over two years ago that I’d left California for the promise of something new. To not only see and travel Europe, but to live in a castle while doing it! My uncle Travis had sent me the most breathtaking photos. Everything looked so good, so incredibly amazing…

  I’d absolutely adored him since childhood, and so had my older sisters. Every time he stopped in town, our one and only uncle had taken us on a different grand adventure. Rock climbing. Indoor skydiving. Crazy things my mother would never have done with us, even if my father hadn’t been ripped from our lives so long ago.

  And now, just like his brother, uncle Travis was gone too.

  It would’ve been so easy to leave. To get on the next plane and fly back to California, and forget any of this ever existed. No one would stop me. No one would blame me…

  But for once, I wanted to take a stand. To actually accomplish something significant in my young adult life, rather than continue to avoid the burden of responsibility.

  Besides, my uncle had begged me to finish what he’d started. In some of his final words to me, right up until his dying breath… he’d made me swear that one last promise.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered into the silence of my tiny car. “I really tried.”

  Another vehicle passed going the opposite direction and I instinctively flinched. No matter how long I lived here, I’d never get used to driving on the left side of the road.

  I thought back to how happy and full of pride my uncle was, when I’d first arrived in Scotland. He’d practically stolen the property at a public auction, at a price very close to the sum total of his entire life’s savings. But Westgate Castle came with a stipulation as well. That a place of such historic significance could only be kept by someone willing to restore it to its original state — and keep it that way.

  This meant that all renovations needed to be checked and rechecked, by some very specific inspectors, on a very specific timeline. Inside, we could do just about whatever we wanted. But on the outside? Every cracked brick and piece of crumbling stone needed to be mortared back in its proper place.

  I pulled through the gates well after dark, and rolled to a stop in the old courtyard. Not even Julian or Noah’s trucks were still here. They almost always stayed late, along with Chase, who happened to live with Noah.

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t been running out of money for a while now. One by one I’d let the crew go, until only these three men remained. I told myself I’d kept them because they were transplanted Americans, and I could relate to that. That they reminded me of home. But I’d also kept them for another reason, one I was reluctant to admit even to myself, and only then in the dead of night while I stared restlessly up at my painted ceiling:

  I’d kept them because they were hot.

  More than once, on nights like this, I’d imagined asking them in for a drink. I’d even stocked my fridge with four different beers, in anticipation of my success. In my mind’s eye I pictured approaching Julian, just before he wrapped up for the day. Or asking Noah and Chase in for a cold one, as they packed up their work truck.

  But I’d never done it. I’d always chickened out.

  And now…

  Now I was scraping the bottom of the barrel, and there was nothing else to be had. Virtually nothing left in my uncle’s depleted account, and my own balance long since negative. In other words, I was at the end of my rope.

  A warm rain began to fall as I pushed through the great oaken doors of the keep and bolted them securely behind me. I wondered how many people had done the same. How many hundreds of men and women, over dozens of generations, had locked themselves in here, away from the rest of the world.

  I looked around as I always did, before heaving a sigh. It was definitely good to be home.

  When it came to the interior of Westgate Castle, my uncle had spared no expense. He’d modernized the ancient rooms and soaring chambers, installing full gas, electric, and plumbing. The rooms were all cozy and warm and beautifully-furnished. There was even high-speed wi-fi, to confuse the fuck out of whatever ghosts still happened to be lurking here.

  Maybe he’d spent too much of his budget in here, but by the time we realized that it was too late. There was no turning back. He was already sick, and all we could do was look forward.

  “I miss you,” I called skyward, into the shadows of the vaulted ceiling. If my poor dead uncle heard me, he didn’t respond. “I wish you were here.”

  I climbed to the second floor, then the third, where I stripped myself bare as I entered the updated bathroom. I took a luxuriously hot shower, letting the heated water soak into my body. Inhaling the steam as the stress of the day melted away, before slipping into my nightclothes and climbing into bed.

  My body was exhausted, but my mind still raced. For an hour or more I let it run wild, flitting to every random thought or problem or desire that popped into my head. My dwindling bank account. My looming inspections.

  My three gorgeous laborers…

  Over and over, my thoughts circled back to them. Julian’s tattooed arms, coiling
and flexing. Noah’s incredible abs, glistening in the sun. I could see Chase’s green eyes, his lady-killer smile…

  After an hour or so I got up and crossed the room, my feet padding silently over the smooth wooden floor. The rain had stopped. Blue moonlight bled in through my favorite window, looking out over the vast, unworked fields of the castle estate.

  For a minute I stood looking at nothing, letting my eyes drift lazily over the moonlit horizon. Then, all of a sudden, I drew back with a gasp.

  There was a figure standing out there.

  My heart began pounding wildly. Whoever it was, man or woman, they stood close to the tree line. All the way back at the very edge of the field, waiting... lurking...

  Maybe even right now, staring up at me.

  A cold chill ran through me as I took two shaky steps back. I wanted to flee and hide. To climb behind one of the heavy curtains, or crawl back into my bed.

  But I had to know.

  Very slowly, I worked up just enough courage to look again. I expected to see the person standing out there, all silent and sinister. Or even worse, find out that he or she had moved significantly closer, while my back was turned.

  But when I looked, the figure was gone.

  Was it ever really there?

  I didn’t know. I was tired, exhausted, bleary-eyed. And now I was spooking myself over nothing.

  Maybe.

  Either way, I added another comforter before jumping back into bed. It might make the night hotter and a little more restless, but I felt safer that way.

  Three

  MADISON

  It took nearly an hour just to work up the nerve to face him. When I finally did, I approached him rapidly, nervously. Stomping over a little too hastily, to keep myself from chickening out and doing an about-face.

  “Julian…”

  I caught the big stonemason in the middle carrying two huge blocks. His arms and chest were flexed deliciously tight. The veins in his neck were standing out, just beneath his rugged, stubbled jaw.