My Salvation: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance

by Stella Brie

Lowell’s voice is deep and strong as he reads from the action-packed book. His voice, perfect for reading to a crowd, flows over me, making me shiver a bit. As he speaks, his military experience comes through to the audience, and the action packed into every chapter becomes even more believable. His intelligence in conveying that knowledge to others is apparent as he confidently captures the audience and brings them into his world.

  After reading for about 30 minutes, he takes a few questions from the crowd. Cheryl and I finish setting up the ropes for the signing lines. He wraps up, and Cheryl provides instructions to the audience on how to pick up a signed copy of their book. If they had not pre-ordered, there were additional books for purchase available, and Lowell would be happy to sign a copy for them.

  About an hour and fifteen minutes later, Lowell signs a book for the last person in line. Looking at Cheryl, I ask her what happens next, and she explains that she and her staff will take care of putting everything back together. I ask to purchase a copy of the series, and she calls Dale over to pull them from the shelves and pack them up for me. After paying, I pick up the bag and head to the front of the store, where Lowell is looking at his book display and talking to Lisa on the phone.

  “Everything went well. Kate handled things beautifully and says to tell you thank you for all the instructions and pictures,” he is telling her as I walk up. He looks down at my bag and sees his books in it and frowns. “Lisa, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk more next week. Go get some rest.” He hangs up the phone. Still frowning, he questions me, “Why did you buy the books? I would have given you some of my copies.”

  “Just contributing to your bestseller status,” I tease him. “Seriously, I love a good book, and this series sounds exciting.”

  Shaking his head, he gives me one of his penetrating stares where he is trying to figure out my nefarious motives or angle. I roll my eyes. His eyes glint with irritation at my gesture. He takes a firm hold of my elbow and steers me outside and into the vehicle. Once he is in the driver’s seat, he starts the vehicle and turns to me.

  “Would you at least let me buy you dinner for helping out today?” he asks, exasperated.

  Laughing at his expression, I agree to dinner. “I’m starving, and dinner would be wonderful. What do you have in mind?”

  “I know a great little place that serves authentic Spanish tapas and paella,” he says as he starts the vehicle. “Does that sound good?”

  I put on my seat belt as I tell him yes.

  Lowell pulls the SUV into traffic, and about 15 minutes later we pull in front of a small brick building with a beautiful courtyard and fountain. Lowell comes around and helps me out of the vehicle, then, keeping his hand lightly on my back, walks us into the restaurant. These light touches of his are driving me crazy. Tingles linger, making me crave more.

  “Mr. Lowell, it is so good to see you,” exclaims the lady at the front desk. “We are actually quiet tonight, so we can probably seat you at your favorite table by the fireplace.”

  Lowell smiles. “That will be perfect, Maria, thank you.”

  Guiding me to the left, I notice a large fireplace with several tables around it. We sit at the one to the right of the fireplace, and Maria sets down menus in front of us.

  Looking around, I notice a lot of couples at other tables, candles lit throughout, and an overall coziness. This is a very romantic place. I squirm a bit as I think of Lev. Lowell hadn’t asked me out on a date, though. It’s just a dinner, a thank you for the event, right?

  Ignoring the romantic vibe, I turn to Lowell. “So, how good is the paella here? They seem to have several variations on the menu, but the seafood one looks the best.”

  “The owners are from Spain, and the paella is excellent,” he explains. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Mmm, I’ll have a glass of the red Sangria.” Licking my lips in anticipation of the drink, I can almost taste it. It’s so hard to find good Sangria.

  Lowell stares down at my lips for a second, then quickly looks back up. “Sounds good,” he says curtly. Shifting a bit, he puts down the menu and takes a long drink of water. When the waiter comes by, he gives him our order.

  “How did you go from the Army to writing thrillers?”

  He shrugs as he thinks about it. “I was in the intelligence branch in the Army, so I was used to trying to predict a million scenarios with a limited set of variables until I had actionable intel. It’s similar to creating a story. I start out with a few variables and a lot of potential scenarios that eventually get whittled down until I can tell a cohesive but action-packed story.”

  “Well, you seem to love it, and guessing by tonight’s audience, you are very successful at it. Tell me about the first book you wrote.”

  He tells me about his first book, and all the trouble he ran into because it too closely resembled a classified scenario he had led while he was in the Army. I listen to him explain his frustration with how he had to twist the plot around to present a completely plausible but entirely unique story before they would allow him to publish it. I’m fascinated by his involvement in real life intelligence plots. As he speaks about all the details, I marvel at how his brain comes up with all the different plot points impacting the ending in a hundred different ways.

  “Lev told me you joined the Army because of him, but it sounds like it was the perfect challenging environment for you?”

  Studying me for a second, he admits that the Army called to him. “Listening to Sarge, my foster father, talk about how the Army provided him with control and direction appealed to me. My life prior to Sarge’s home was a series of unstable environments where I had little control. Joining the Army had the added benefit of also cementing my brotherhood with Lev. Discovering I was good at intelligence gave me both direction and purpose.”

  The food arrives, and we both dig in. Groaning, I thank him for introducing me to this wonderful restaurant. The paella is divine. Licking my lips, I reach out to try my Sangria and groan again.

  “Seriously, I would have come to Montana sooner if I had known there was such excellent food here.” I describe all the delicious food I’d had at Lev’s restaurant and bar, as well as the Thai place down the road from my apartment.

  Lowell watches me intently as I describe each dish. “You seem to have a lot in common with Lev,” he says as I pause. “He loves food, too. I believe you two have been dating?”

  Well, that explains tonight. Lowell knows I have been dating Lev, so this makes tonight a “thank you” for helping today, not a date. I’m glad he knows, as I don’t want to hide anything from either of them, but I’m disappointed this isn’t a date. But he also hasn’t asked me either.

  Reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, he murmurs, “This can be both a thank you and a date, can’t it? Lev knows we are out tonight. As brothers, we don’t really have secrets from each other.”

  Stunned, I stare at him for a second. I’m not sure if I should agree it’s a date, but I definitely don’t agree with them sharing personal details about me.

  “It’s fine that you two are transparent with each other, but I am not sure I want you both sharing personal details about me. What exactly is he sharing?” I’m now a little pissed at them both. “And no, I don’t believe this is a date. I like to be asked out for a date, not have it assumed that I would be fine in going along with a half-hearted attempt where I have to clarify whether it is a date or not.”

  Lowell reads the irritation and confusion in my face. He takes a second to digest my words. His eyes are bright and direct behind his black-framed glasses. “I apologize. You’re right. We’ll keep this as a ‘thank you’ dinner, but to be clear, I intend on asking you out for a date when I take you home tonight. I know you are dating Lev, and he is aware of my interest in you, too. While he has told me you have gone on a couple of dates, he has not shared intimate details with me. We both have too much integrity and respect for you to share those types of details,” he says, sounding both apolo
getic and offended at the same time.

  Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, I believe him when he says they are not sharing personal things with each other. “Thank you for the explanation. I like you, Lowell. You intrigue me with your incredible intelligence and absolute confidence. Although, sometimes you can be abrupt to the point where I question whether we will get along.” I take a deep breath. “But I am not sure I’m really the type to date several men at once. I am not even sure how that would work, especially as you two are so close.”

  “Well, I won’t speak for Lev, but for myself, I want both you and Lev to be happy. I know being with each other makes you both happy. I also know Lev would want the same for me, because we are brothers. And I want to be completely honest with you. Lev and I usually have completely distinct taste in women, so you might go out on a date with me and decide we are better off as friends. Think about it, and also take some time to talk to Lev. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Thoughts buzzing, I give him my agreement. I’m still not sure how this would work, but I need some time to think, and I hadn’t heard Lev’s opinion yet either. With that cue, we change the conversation to lighter topics and finish our dinner.

  Driving home, I watch as Lowell taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he gets lost in his thoughts. As we pull into the driveway, Lowell comes around and helps me out of the vehicle. Walking me inside and up to the apartment, he stares down at me for a few seconds.

  “Well, thank you for dinner. And for sharing your world with me. You are an intriguing man, Mr. Monroe,” I tease him.

  Smiling slightly, he acknowledges the compliment. “Thank you for helping me out of a jam today. Your assistance was invaluable and helped me concentrate on the event. I appreciate it greatly. I also thank you for your company at dinner, and for our frank conversation. Most people are not as direct with me as you are, which makes me stop and examine myself and my actions more than I want. To be clear...I would love to take you on a date, a romantic date, where we can explore this interest between us. Please discuss it with Lev, and let me know if you would like to go on a date with me.” Taking my chin, he nudges my face to the side so he can kiss my cheek. Pulling back, his eyes are unreadable as he stares down at me before abruptly turning and walking out the door.

  Shutting the door, I lean on it as I think about the day. That man is so confusing. Intriguing, but confusing as hell. I am not even sure if he’s sexually attracted to me, or if I’m just another puzzle he wants to solve.

  Rubbing my temples to ease the strain, I know I need to talk to Lev, but I need time to think about whether I want to date them both. It could be a mess and really screw up their friendship. I don’t know what to do.

  CHAPTER 11

  LOWELL

  As I drive home, I break the day down into microscopic pieces and pull out each one to examine them. In some ways, we seem to flow together nicely. The event went off smoothly, with Kate jumping in to help with whatever tasks needed doing. She didn’t mind hauling books or searching out mundane items like paper or markers. Plus, she didn’t complain, and she didn’t even come near me when I was signing or talking to fans. In the past, the other women I brought to the events typically ended up bored and whiny or territorial, staking their claim in front of others.

  Dinner was fascinating. She pulled more information out of me in one dinner than Vanessa had known the whole time we were together. Not only was she an excellent listener, she was engaging and insightful. I don’t think I’ve mentioned my foster father in years, and yet I wanted to share my past with her.

  She even had the nerve to dress me down for not asking her on a date. I smirk as I think about it. I’d gotten so used to other women jumping at the chance to make a claim or statement about dating a bestselling author, it didn’t even occur to me to ask her out on a date formally. I had assumed an offer of dinner was a date, and one with all the privileges a date would entail, including a kiss at the end of the night. Maybe more. Although, I don’t get the feeling she even realizes I sexually desire her. If she lets me take her out on a date, I need to step up my game.

  When I get home, I text Lev.

  Asked Kate on a date. She’s aware we both want to date her but is not sure how to handle it. She will likely want to chat with you about it soon.

  He’s still in Helena at one of his restaurants, but he texts me back quickly.

  Understood. I like Kate, and I think she will be good for you, Lowell. But if she doesn’t want to date us both, I’m not backing away from her.

  I nod in agreement, although he can’t see it.

  I understand and agree.

  CHAPTER 12

  KATE

  The week flies by, and all I think about is dating Lowell and Lev. They both text me regularly. Lev sends me funny pics or little videos throughout the day, as if he wants to share his day with me. With Lowell, our conversations are slightly more reserved, but we chat back and forth about our favorite books and authors. I started reading his Robert Newman series, and it’s so good. We often talk about the characters and plausibility of the scenarios in the real world.

  If I date them both, I need to have a serious talk with Lev first, but it’s Wednesday before he’s available. I texted him earlier in the day to make sure he would be at the bar tonight and asked if he would have time to discuss something important. He told me to come by later, around eight o’clock, and he would have some time to talk. I decide to eat a small dinner at home first, then walk up to the bar to have a glass of wine.

  Around seven forty-five, I walk over to The Black and Gold. Entering, I head immediately to my usual seat at the bar and text Lev that I’m here. Courtney is behind the bar and strolls over to speak to me.

  “Well, hello, Dr. Michaels. Lev’s slammed tonight. Why don’t you come back another time?” she drawls.

  “Hello, Courtney. I’d like a Malbec, please,” I simply order, ignoring her words completely. She stares at me angrily for a second, then strides over and grabs a wine glass. Pouring the Malbec, she brings it back and slams it down on the bar, spilling a few drops. “Thank you,” I murmur.

  Taking a sip, I lean back in my chair, silent, as I feel that is the best way to deal with her tantrums. I don’t know if Lev is dating her, too, and I refuse to get in a catfight over a man. Although, given her attitude, I’m bringing this up with Lev tonight. I will not come to the bar if I have to see the other woman all the time. It may be hypocritical of me, since I’m here to talk to him about dating Lowell, but I can’t stand the thought of him dating someone else, especially someone like Courtney. How do I tell him that and then ask to date Lowell?

  Tapping the bar in thought, I jump when an arm slides around my shoulders. Turning to the right, I see Lev smiling at me.

  “Hello, sweetheart. Why don’t you grab your wine and come with me?”

  Once I have the wine in one hand, he takes the other and pulls me out of my chair. Grabbing my coat and purse, he strides towards the stairs in the back. I didn’t even know this place had an upstairs. I follow him up the steps, and as we get to the top, I see a door with “ROOF” labeled on it. Opening the door, he flips a switch so we won’t get locked out, and we step out on the roof.

  Looking around, I notice a full bar, little gas fire pits, and tables everywhere. Lev reaches to the right, and soft white string lights turn on over our heads.

  “This is incredible.” I smile as I turn in circles. I love rooftop bars. “I am definitely coming here this summer.”

  Wrapping my coat around me, he brings me over to a lounge area and turns on the small gas fireplace. It’s not cold out, as it is the end of April, but it’s still chilly. With the fire, though, it’s perfect.

  Taking a drink of my wine for a little courage, I set it down and turn to Lev. He reaches out and pulls my hand into his lap. Rubbing it with his thumb, he waits for me to lead the discussion.

  “I want to talk to you about a few things, and I’m not sure how to start this conversation, s
o I will probably blunder through it. Lowell asked me out on a date, and I’d like to go out with him.”

  I sort of rush it all out at once, but then I pause to let him digest it. His face is serious, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Even though Lev might know about Lowell’s interest, he doesn’t know I had decided I wanted to go out with him.

  I continue. “Lowell said you guys already spoke about it and it would be fine for us to date, but I want to hear what you think about it. Truly think about it. I like you, Lev, probably more than I should, since I’m not even sure if I’m capable of more, but you are my priority, not Lowell.”

  Stopping, I wait for him to respond. “Lowell and I don’t have any secrets. While we may not share everything in our lives, especially personal moments, we don’t hide things from each other. We’ve talked, and I’m good with you dating us both as long as it’s what you want, too. It’s not a competition. Lowell and I are brothers. I know how happy you make me, and I want him to be as happy as I am. I appreciate you coming to me first before telling Lowell. That means a lot that you would make me your priority. As to your last statement, I’m not sure why you think you aren’t capable of more, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m not in any hurry,” he says quietly as he raises my hand to give it a kiss.

  “How would this work?” I ask. “I just don’t understand how you can be fine with it.” Anxiety races through me as I tackle the subject of Lev dating Courtney. “I can’t stand the thought of you possibly dating Courtney. I know you and I are not exclusive, but seeing her with you kind of eats me up inside. I’m not even sure I want to come to the bar when she’s here, because I don’t want to see you with her or anyone else. How are you not jealous at the thought of my dating Lowell?”

  “Whoa. First, I’m not dating Courtney. Who told you we were dating? Did she say that to you?” he asks angrily.