“You’re a famous artist and making bank right now on your art. You don’t have to worry about things like that. And I do okay myself. I mean, those two PhDs of mine had better be useful for something.”
A strange look crossed Lincoln’s face, and Ethan frowned.
“What? What did I say?”
“Nothing. Just weird to think that I make money off something that I usually like to do.”
“Usually?”
Lincoln shook his head, grabbing the water bottle back and taking a big swig. “No worries. Just temperamental artist stuff and all that. I’m figuring it out.”
“Okay. If you’re sure. But if you ever want to talk it out. I’m here.”
Lincoln gave him a small smile, and Ethan swallowed hard. He loved it when Lincoln smiled. He really needed to go on a date. Because this was getting ridiculous.
“You hate art.”
Ethan’s eyes widened, a little hurt—and worried—that Lincoln thought that. “I do not. I love your art. I might not understand everyone else’s, but I get yours. At least, as much as I can.”
“I will always be grateful that you try. Speaking of, there’s that show that Damien wants me to go to. You’re going to be my date, right?”
Ethan winced. “I hate Damien.” He hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but it wasn’t like he kept that particular feeling to himself.
“I know. You tell me often. But he’s my agent, and he’s really damn good at what he does.”
“No, you’re really damn good. Damien just uses you to get what he wants.”
“We’re not having this fight again.”
Ethan held up his hands and shook his head. “You’re right. Sorry. I’ll be your date. Unless work runs late.”
Lincoln narrowed his eyes.
“Okay, okay, work won’t run late.” Probably. He would get out of it, and he’d write the show on every single calendar he had, both electronic and paper, so he remembered.
“I’ll see if Bristol or Madison wants to go as backup in case you forget,” Lincoln said, but Ethan could hear the curtness to his words.
“No, I’ll be there. It’s already on the main calendar, and I’ll put it everywhere else. I’ve got you. Trust me.”
“I do, I promise.”
“Okay, then. Now, what about that crawler?”
“You can have the crawler.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to have yogurt, something healthy.”
“No, I was thinking of a Boston cream-filled. With the chocolate on top. Sounds amazing.”
Ethan closed his eyes and did his best not to groan. And no, it wasn’t because he was currently being a pervert and thinking of his best friend licking cream off his lips as he bit down. No, that was not what was going through his mind. However, he did want sugar now. And calories. And, when he had time, a date. Because he really needed to stop thinking about Lincoln that way. It hadn’t been this bad before, but as soon as his brother Liam had started dating Arden and then got engaged? Things had gotten a little weird. Everybody was talking about marriage and babies and settling down. And Ethan wanted that. He really did. Didn’t matter that he felt as if he didn’t have time for it these days. He wanted that.
But he didn’t know who he wanted it with. Because it couldn’t be with Lincoln. That wasn’t what Lincoln wanted. Meaning, Ethan needed to figure out what he wanted for himself.
And he just wasn’t good at that.
But he wanted happiness, desired that happily ever after. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to get married.
They turned the corner, and once again, Ethan tripped over his feet.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Lincoln asked.
“You mean the fact that I see a woman in a very gorgeous wedding dress currently sitting on a bench in the middle of a park, drinking from what looks to possibly be a bottle of wine out of a paper bag?”
Lincoln nodded.
“Oh. Good. Because I’m seeing that, too.”
And the fact that Ethan had seen it right after thinking about marriage and babies? No, he wasn’t going to overthink that. But, hell. This would be interesting.
“And either nobody has noticed that she’s here, or they’re all doing their best to not pay too much attention and give her space.” Ethan looked over at Lincoln as he spoke, nodding.
“We should make sure she’s okay,” Lincoln said, even as Ethan kept nodding.
“I mean…it looks like we have a runaway bride on our hands.”
“I can’t believe how much you love that movie.”
“Julia Roberts and Richard Gere coming together again? It was perfection.”
“No, it really wasn’t. But at least she wasn’t a hooker this time.”
“I don’t understand what your beef is with Julia Roberts’ movies,” Ethan said as they walked towards the bride on the bench.
“I love most of her movies. But I’m just not a fan of her as a hooker or a bride on the run.”
“Maybe not say that so loudly as we’re about to go talk with a bride,” Ethan mumbled out of the side of his mouth.
“You’re right. This is a completely different situation. And there’s no Richard Gere here to save her.”
“No, just us. Right?” Ethan asked, winking.
“You really need to get away from your desk more.” Lincoln mumbled the words, but Ethan smiled even as they walked up to the woman.
And, dear God, she was breathtaking. Sharp cheekbones and lush lips. Shoulder-length, auburn hair that had been pulled back on one side in curls, and she wore a crown—tiara?—rather than a veil. She had on a strapless dress that tucked in at the waist and had a billowing skirt that looked way out of place in the park. However, they were on the least used side of the park because there weren’t as many good running trails, and the children’s playground equipment was on the other side, so, not many people walked past her.
Thankfully.
“Hey, you doing okay?” Ethan asked, trying to sound casual, as if they weren’t just walking up to a bride drinking wine out of a paper bag.
The woman looked up at them, and Ethan sucked in a breath. Ethan noticed that Lincoln stiffened right beside him.
Her eyes.
Jesus Christ, her eyes. They were this deep blue that looked as if they could be contacts, but Ethan knew they weren’t. He could tell they went with her perfectly proportioned face and bitable lips.
She looked stunning, even with the mascara trails down her cheeks.
“Oh, hi.”
His dick went hard at her voice, and he cursed under his breath.
Down, boy. This is so not the time.
Hadn’t been the time with Lincoln, and sure as hell wasn’t the time with her.
“Do you need help?” Lincoln asked. Then he bent down to one knee, and Ethan did the same. They looked as if they were proposing to her now, but hovering probably wasn’t the best thing either.
She looked between them and shook her head. “I’m fine. Just enjoying the day.”
“You look like you had other plans for the day,” Ethan put in.
Her lips quirked up into a smile, and then her eyes watered. Ethan wanted to hit himself.
“Can we get you anything? Coffee?” Lincoln asked.
She looked down at the bag she held, and then tossed it and the bottle into the trashcan right next to her bench. “I really have nowhere else to be. So, coffee sounds great. You’re not murderers or serial killers, are you? Because I’ve watched enough Criminal Minds that I know, sometimes, serial killers work in pairs. But, usually, it’s just by themselves. And I also know that if they do work together, there’s normally a dominant and a submissive within the pair.” She shut her mouth, and Ethan just shook his head.
“You would really get along with my brother, Aaron. He loves Criminal Minds.”
“I don’t know if I love it. It tends to keep me up at night. Anyway, I really should go home.”
“Come on, let’s get you some co
ffee. Make sure you’re okay. But first, my name’s Lincoln. And this is Ethan. You look like you’ve had a tough day.”
The woman gave them a watery smile before standing up, and they followed suit. “I’m Holland. Today was supposed to be my wedding day.”
“We got that much,” Ethan muttered, and Lincoln elbowed him in the gut.
“I mean the dress isn’t really that great for just a Thursday afternoon out.” She sighed. “I could use that coffee. And I really hope you guys aren’t serial killers.”
“Well, I’m not,” Ethan said and then gestured over at Lincoln. “Can’t promise the same for him.”
Holland’s eyes widened, and Lincoln muttered something that Ethan probably didn’t want to hear.
“I’m not a serial killer either. Though, of course, that’s the first thing a serial killer would say. Anyway, we can go have coffee now right outside of that café. We don’t even have to go in. I promise. You’re safe with us.”
Even as Lincoln said the words, they warmed Ethan, and he knew that even if he wasn’t there, she would be safe with his best friend. Because Lincoln was the person you went to when things got bad. And from the way Holland was standing there, looking lost in her big wedding dress, he knew things had gotten bad.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Ethan knew, right then, that no thoughts of him wanting his best friend, or things with work, or even the fact that he was getting out of shape mattered.
This bride needed them, and he was a Montgomery. Lincoln was pretty much a Montgomery, as well. And that’s what Montgomerys did. They helped.
Even if their libidos happened to get in the way.
Chapter 2
Holland Yeaton had lived through bad days before in her life. Plenty of them. So many bad days interspersed with the good ones, it was actually a little scary. But normal.
The fact that this day was probably the worst of her life felt like a dramatic understatement.
But as she sat across from two of the most incredibly attractive men she had ever met in her life while sitting at an outdoor café as people stared at her, she figured that maybe she wasn’t overreacting.
After all, she was wearing her insanely and annoyingly expensive wedding dress, the one that she loved but hadn’t thought she should get. In her mind, a wedding was only supposed to be one day, and she had wanted to have a life with her spouse—now, her ex.
She had wanted more than just that single day. She wanted years, decades.
At least, in theory. Just because she and Dustin had had problems before the wedding day didn’t mean they always would have had problems. It just meant they’d have had things to work on right out of the gate. And that should have been fine.
Because all couples had things to worry about.
But despite not thinking it was important, she had been coerced by her sister and mother into purchasing this far too expensive dress. The one they’d said looked spectacular on her in a high-couture sort of way but made her feel like a lacy cupcake.
She had wanted a simple ceremony, a simple dress, and a lifetime of happiness and love with Dustin.
None of that had happened.
Instead, she sat across from two strangers. Men who had come up to her to make sure she was okay when everyone else had walked by. Onlookers had gawked and likely wondered if she, in her stupid wedding dress, was for a photoshoot or perhaps some form of farce or TV show.
It was none of those.
It was her life. And maybe this is what she deserved.
After all, she had tried for happiness and had been left wanting.
Why not add humiliation and a little drunkenness to that?
“Would you like another cup of coffee?” Lincoln asked. Holland looked up, her eyes widening as she stared at the sexy man in front of her.
The fact that she kept calling them sexy and attractive in her head just meant that maybe she’d had a little too much wine—which, yes, she’d been drinking out of a paper bag.
She hadn’t really thought through what else to do outside of drinking her worries away in a public place because she had nowhere else to go.
She’d only had her small purse with her, not even all of her credit cards, so she hadn’t been able to find a hotel. Plus, that would’ve just been weird. She hadn’t been able to go home either, because that’s where Dustin lived. And she couldn’t even go to her parents’, because her mom and dad were furious with her.
After all, walking out on your wedding while still wearing the damn dress probably wasn’t the best thing to do when your parents were already mad at you for a thousand other things. Stuff that seemed like nothing but was inconceivable in their minds.
But as she looked at Lincoln, Holland tried to push that out of her head and just be…okay. She likely already seemed a little insane to them. She didn’t want to add to that. She just wanted to be normal. But normal wasn’t sitting alone in a wedding dress in a park, drinking wine out of a paper bag.
At least, not anybody else’s normal. Maybe it was hers now.
Snapping herself out of her thoughts, she focused on the man in front of her again. Lincoln had longish, dark hair that curled right above his collar, a strong jawline, piercing eyes, and very sensual lips.
Not that she was looking. That was the wine. All the booze.
And on that thought…
“I’d love another cup of coffee,” she mumbled.
Lincoln smiled softly. It reached his eyes, the expression full of compassion rather than judgment, and she counted that as a win. He raised his hand.
The waitress quickly scurried over, and Holland didn’t blame her for the extra hustle. After all, the woman wasn’t the only person gawking at the two men—Holland was right there with her.
“Could we have another round of coffees? Thank you,” Lincoln said, smiling at the waitress.
“And extra cream.” Ethan gestured towards the empty creamer container between them. “I use an exorbitant amount of creamer in my coffee. And it seems I’m not alone,” Ethan added, smiling over at Holland.
Holland could feel the heat on her cheeks as her blush spread, but that was fine. So she liked a little coffee with her cream and sugar. Sue her.
But Ethan seemed to like his coffee the same way, even if Lincoln only added a dash of cream to his.
And the fact that she currently cared way too much about how they took their coffee just told her that the wine was still in her system. She was focusing on everything that didn’t matter so she didn’t have to focus on the huge, glaring, obvious elephant in the room. Also known as the wedding-dress thing—and what had led up to it.
“Thank you,” she said after the waitress had walked away, and Holland could speak to the guys alone. Not that she was sure she really wanted to talk with them. She was actually a little worried about what they might say. Were they just nice guys offering her a cup of coffee? Or were things about to get weird? She knew she probably shouldn’t have just gone off with two strangers, but she had a good feeling about them. And if this was her end via serial killer, well, it served her right. After all, she’d had a really bad day.
“So, do you want to tell us what’s up?” Ethan asked.
Holland just grinned and looked down at her empty coffee cup.
Lincoln closed his eyes and groaned. “Ethan,” he grumbled. “Seriously?”
“What? I’m just saying.”
Holland blew out a breath, wanting the awkwardness to be over. She wanted everything to be over so she could get to the next step and figure things out.
“My name is Holland, as you know.”
“Hi,” Lincoln said, his smile still in place.
“I own a boutique…and I was supposed to get married today. But, as you can see, it didn’t happen.”
“Well, I actually didn’t know if it happened or not,” Ethan said. “For all I knew, you got married and then ran off. Not that you did. Maybe I should just shut up. You’re right, Lincoln, I do tend to spou
t off nonsense.”
The waitress came back and handed out their drinks, still staring at the two guys while ignoring Holland altogether. It was only her quick reflexes to move her hand out of the way right at the last moment that stopped her from getting burned with hot coffee. The waitress walked off without even a “sorry,” and Holland just shook her head. Well, the guys were pretty attractive, but that was a little ridiculous.
Ethan quickly handed over napkins while Lincoln grabbed her hand and looked it over.
“You okay?” Lincoln asked. “Did she get you?”
Holland looked down and shook herself mentally. Just because these guys were being sweeter to her than anyone had been in a long time, didn’t mean she had to continue down this line of conversation. Or even stay here. This wasn’t smart. She really needed to go home—or find a home—and figure out what to do next.
“I’m fine.” Holland pulled her hand away, and gratefully took a napkin from Ethan to finish cleaning up the mess.
Ethan helped her clean. “No harm, no foul. Messes happens all the time. But are you really okay?”
“I’m fine,” she repeated.
“Okay,” Lincoln said, looking into her eyes. “If you say so.”
She wasn’t fine. But…whatever. She was all right when it came to the coffee and the spill, and that’s all that mattered at the moment.
“How about you guys tell me what you do?” she said, trying for small talk so she didn’t have to actually answer their question. Namely, telling them why she was in her wedding dress and had been drinking in the middle of a park.
The guys looked at each other before seeming to have some sort of silent conversation she wasn’t a part of. Were they…together? Maybe. They seemed to be at least best friends. But the thought of the two of them together? Hottest thing ever.
Not that she was actually going to think about that. Her brain was already too full as it was.
Sated in Ink Page 2
