An Indecent Proposition

by Stephanie Julian

  Leaning forward, he kissed her, gratified that her lips clung when he pulled back after a few seconds. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Don’t plan to.” She yawned again. “Don’t be gone long.”

  “Yes, your highness.”

  Her eyes closed but he saw her nose wrinkle before she smiled. “Damn right.”

  He rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom then raided Erik’s walk-in closet for sweats.

  The bedroom was warm but he knew the rest of the house would be ball-shriveling cold. Erik’s idea of a comfortable temperature was miles apart from his.

  Before he left the room, he turned to find them asleep again. Erik had Jules’ head tucked beneath his chin, the rest of them covered by the bedding.

  He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the hall.

  * * * * *

  Jules had fallen back to sleep but Erik didn’t let himself.

  He’d gotten good at forcing his body to shut down no matter what was going on. It’d become a safety mechanism, taught to him by a former SEAL who’d been a therapist at the rehab hospital where he’d spent the better part of two years.

  Jimmy Cochran had lost an eye and a foot in Afghanistan and was one tough bastard who hadn’t let him slide. Along with Keegan, who’d kept Erik involved with the business in every way possible during those early, blurry months of recovery, operations and rehab, Jimmy was the second person Erik felt he owed his life.

  Neither Jimmy nor Keegan had let him wallow in his misery too long. They’d poked, they’d prodded, they’d pissed him off until he’d finally done as much as he thought he could do. And then they pushed him farther.

  When had he hit the wall that’d stopped his forward momentum?

  Probably when he’d left the rehab hospital that last time six months ago. After he’d said no more operations.

  Which was right about the time Keegan had started looking like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

  And yeah, that was partially his fault. Okay, mostly his fault. He’d returned to work full time but his concentration had been divided.

  Before the accident, he’d had two things on his mind: building the business and getting laid. He’d never had a problem with either. He’d been twenty-seven, their firm had gone from decent to holy-shit-we’re-rich and they’d had more money than they knew what to do with.

  And the women… God damn. Whoever, whenever, wherever. He’d never had a problem getting laid but with the money they were making, women literally slipped their numbers into his pockets anywhere from business events to bars.

  And then he’d met Anne Corcoran a few months before the explosion and he’d thought maybe, just maybe, she’d been the one.

  Smart, sexy and career-minded. A woman who knew what she wanted and went after it. Which had been him. Keegan had never entered into the equation because Anne had expressed no interested in him and Keegan hadn’t been remotely interested in her.

  And then… Boom.

  He’d gone from immense possibilities to nothing but pain.

  Anne had stuck around a month or so but he hadn’t blamed her when she finally told him she couldn’t take it anymore. Which had been a blessing because he couldn’t look at her anymore.

  She’d reminded him of everything he’d lost.

  The very few times he’d ventured into society after the explosion had shown him, in no uncertain terms, how different his life was going to be from there on out.

  Which was why he’d thrown himself into finding out who’d rigged the explosion.

  He had no doubt someone had sabotaged the lab. There were just too many coincidences, too many pieces that didn’t fit. He didn’t want to believe it was someone who worked for them but all signs pointed to it being an inside job. And that would devastate Keegan.

  Keegan didn’t want to believe the accident had been rigged, didn’t want to think someone hated them enough to want to hurt them.

  Erik didn’t think it had anything to do with hate. No, he was pretty damn sure it had everything to do with money. Contracts they were getting that older, more established companies were not.

  Erik didn’t think the plan had been to hurt him or Keegan. He was pretty sure the explosion was supposed to go off at night when no one was around. It’d only been dumb luck that he’d still been in the lab finishing something Keegan had started.

  Which was why Keegan still carried that enormous mountain of guilt on his back. And why he’d agreed to Erik’s scheme to get this woman in their bed.

  Well, that had worked out pretty damn well because here she was.

  Yeah, so now what?

  Probably should’ve given that some more thought.

  Three-way sex didn’t need much planning.

  A three-way relationship? That needed a fucking twenty-page manual. And neither he nor Keegan wrote their own instruction manuals. They had people to do that for them.

  Jules had been right. They’d never had a relationship with any of the women they’d double-teamed. Probably because they hadn’t known how to work it.

  They were going to have to figure it out and fast because neither one of them was giving her up.

  She accepted him, scars and all, and he had a serious jones for her, to the point where he couldn’t stop thinking about her, day and night.

  And though he probably wouldn’t admit it, Keegan had fallen pretty damn hard. Hell, he’d practically fucked her in public. And for Keegan, that was like declaring his eternal love.

  The guy didn’t do casual. And he didn’t do PDA lightly. Though he’d never admitted it, Erik thought there was something in Keegan’s past that made showing affection equal to crying like a girl if someone hurt his feelings.

  They’d never talked about it. Hell, lately they didn’t talk about anything that didn’t relate to the business…or wasn’t about Jules.

  Below in his kitchen, he heard Keegan banging around, opening drawers and cabinets, probably cursing him because he didn’t have the high-end toys Keegan did in his. Erik’s kitchen was nothing like Keegan’s, all shiny and stainless and spotless.

  His was utilitarian, more country farmhouse than high-tech. Considering he had a housekeeper who made most of his meals, he didn’t really need more than a microwave, a fridge and a stove.

  Erik angled up on one elbow to stare down at Jules. Utter relaxation made her look years younger than twenty-two. Too young to have taken on so much of her mother’s debt. Then again, her father, according to Carol, had been a rare bastard who’d left them high and dry.

  If he ever met Jules’ dad, the guy wouldn’t leave in one piece.

  Erik wanted the opportunity to get to know her. He didn’t want her to have to worry about work or money.

  Yeah, and how are you going to manage that when Keegan wants the same thing?

  They’d figure something out. He and Keegan always did. Hell, they’d managed to create a multi-million dollar company from nothing and not argue about the little shit. They saved those arguments for the big stuff, the projects they worked on. And those arguments always got worked out.

  They’d work this out too.

  * * * * *

  Why the fuck weren’t all the dry ingredients in the same damn cabinet?

  Yeah, it was a stupid ass thing to be pissed off about but, Christ almighty, why the fuck was the flour in with the canned goods and the sugar in the cabinet with the dishes?

  And did Erik not own a non-stick frying pan?

  Fuck.

  Well, he had seen a cookie sheet somewhere so scones it was. Grabbing the ingredients from their various and unorganized spots, he dug into his memory for his grandmother’s recipe.

  The simple routine of measuring and mixing and kneading helped him regain his stability. He’d been shaken when he’d left the bedroom.

  He still hadn’t figured out why exactly.

  While the scones baked, he started the coffee machine, willing it to go faster. He needed at l
east a gallon this morning if he was going to be at all sociable.

  He didn’t want to fuck this up for Erik. Didn’t want to give Jules any excuse to leave.

  Grimacing, he grabbed a cup out of the cup, wanting to be ready the second the pot filled.

  Alright, so maybe he didn’t want to fuck this up for himself, either.

  But how the hell were they going to work this? Wouldn’t either he or Erik eventually be a third wheel? Did they take turns being a third wheel?

  Maybe it’d be best if he did what he’d planned all along and stepped out of the picture.

  Erik needed her—

  No, that wasn’t giving Erik enough credit. The guy had come through a major ordeal without losing his sanity or his strength. Yeah, he’d basically become a recluse but everyone had issues, right?

  But just because he’d gone through hell and back, did that mean Erik should automatically get dibs on everything?

  “Christ, you sound like a two-year-old,” he muttered as he finally poured himself a cup of steaming caffeine. “She’s not a toy.”

  She had her own mind and, if she wanted to date both of them, or even just have sex with both of them, that was her choice.

  Right?

  So did they make up a schedule and put their initials on the dates they wanted to take her out or did they just skip the whole dating thing—

  Wait, they’d already done that.

  He shoved a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. Christ, they’d fucked this up but good.

  So how the hell did they get it back on track?

  The timer dinged and he glared at it. He needed more time to think, damn it.

  But his avoidance delay was over.

  Time to be a grownup.

  * * * * *

  The first thing Jules noticed was the smell of warm pastry. Then fresh coffee.

  Her stomach grumbled loudly just as she realized she wasn’t in her own bed. There was a warm, naked body behind her and one gorgeous guy setting a tray on the table beside the bed.

  “You missed your calling, man. You should’ve been a chef.”

  Erik’s voice was pitched low enough that it wouldn’t have woken her, if she’d still been asleep.

  “That smells amazing.”

  Opening her eyes, she shifted onto her back so she could look up at Keegan, who was reaching for one of the three mugs on the tray.

  Surprisingly, he met her gaze head-on. “My grandmother’s scones recipe. She was an amazing cook.”

  “Maybe you could teach me that one. I’m always looking for good recipes.”

  “Sure.” Keegan nodded as he reached for Erik’s t-shirt that she’d been wearing last night and handed it to her. “If you’d like.”

  Pulling the shirt over her head, she released her hair from the neckline and threw it over her shoulder. Usually she braided it before bed but last night…she hadn’t thought about it. Ugh. She didn’t want to think about how it looked now.

  “Here, lean forward.”

  Erik piled pillows behind her so she could sit upright before he slid from the bed. Her gaze automatically went to his naked backside. While scars marred his skin, it couldn’t hide the fact that the man was all lean muscle beneath. After he’d pulled on his boxers, he sat back on the bed next to her and reached for the mug Keegan held out.

  The next few minutes were quiet as they drank coffee and ate amazingly good scones.

  And totally avoided any and all conversation.

  She tried not to let the silence get to her, tried to pretend like sharing breakfast in the morning after sharing a bed all night with two guys was normal.

  But it wasn’t. At least not for her.

  After two scones and a cup of coffee, she’d had enough. And it didn’t seem like either of the men were going to start the conversation.

  “So now what?”

  Neither of them looked surprised by her question and neither pretended not to understand what she meant.

  Then again, neither of them had anything to say either. Erik took another swallow of coffee, his gaze shifting from Keegan then back to her. Keegan kept his gaze on her.

  “I guess that depends,” Keegan finally said. “What do you want to happen now?”

  That was the half-million dollar question, now, wasn’t it?

  “When I took the money that night…I didn’t think I’d ever see either of you again. I mean, why would I? We had sex, you gave me money and I left. A simple transaction—”

  “There was nothing simple about that night.” Keegan’s tone held an edge of frustration she totally understood. “I—We never intended—”

  “Yes, we did,” Erik cut in. “Admit it, Keegan. You knew from the moment you saw her you wanted more than a one-night stand. So did I. And the minute you realized that, you went into martyr mode. You sacrificed your feelings for mine.”

  Now Keegan looked directly at Erik, a frown settling on his features. “What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t sacrifice anything. Christ, tonight I practically hunted her down like a stalker.”

  “I know. And then you dragged your sorry ass home and almost drank yourself into a coma because you want her so badly and you think you shouldn’t because I want her. And poor Erik, he needs all the help he can get, right? I’m so fucking scarred and pathetic that no woman would want to be seen with me. But wait, here’s this beautiful woman who doesn’t seem to mind that he’s damaged. So what if I can’t think when I’m around her, I’ll let him have her.”

  Jules had to make a conscious effort to close her mouth. It’d been hanging open in shock.

  Erik wasn’t pulling any punches and Keegan looked like he was about to keel over if he took too many more.

  They’d argued about some of this last night, before they’d been derailed by sex. Again.

  And Keegan just seemed to take it. She wanted to stand up for him, wanted him to stand up for himself. To challenge Erik like he had last night. She understood why Erik was pissed about the way Keegan treated him. Erik didn’t want to be broken anymore but Keegan kept the illusion alive.

  It was a vicious cycle.

  Did she really want to be caught in the middle of this drama? Was it worth it?

  “Do you really want to fight over her like a pair of dogs with a bone?” Keegan finally answered Erik’s accusation, his voice a barely audible snarl. “Because that’s what this is beginning to look like.”

  “Stop it. Right now. No more.”

  Once again, they turned toward her, mouths closed.

  Erik had a haughty look on his face, one that suited him, and Keegan’s determination showed in the rigid line of his lips.

  “Is it always like this between you?’

  They exchanged a look that didn’t include her at all. Neither of them answered. They just turned back to her, still silent.

  Not letting her in.

  She shook her head. “If you can’t even answer that simple question , how can we move forward?”

  Erik’s gaze narrowed. “So you’re saying you’re willing to try?”

  It was her turn to pause, to think carefully about what she wanted to say.

  Did she really want to do this considering the conservative area they lived in and that people already had judged her to be a slut? Then again, what was one more black mark on an already soiled record?

  Do you really want to give them up? Or are you ready to pull on your big girl panties and go after what you want?

  “Yes, I’m willing to try. Are you?”

  Both men glanced at each other and she wondered if they’d thought she’d never agree and that would be the way out.

  Then Keegan said, “Dinner tonight. Seven o’clock. We’ll pick you up.”

  She hesitated for a millisecond before her chin lifted.

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “And you’re going out with two men? Not just one man who’s bringing another along as a friend?”

 
“Yes. Two men. They’re friends, they own a business together and they both want to take me out.”

  Jules’ mom gave her “the look,” the one Jules recognized from her childhood.

  She’d seen it thousands of times as a teenager as she’d smashed through boundaries, convinced she knew what she was doing, and gave a (sometimes) implicit middle finger to whoever told her she couldn’t do something.

  Amazingly, her mom still spoke to her, still loved her.

  “And you’re going where?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “And what do they do for a living?”

  Tricky, tricky. Her mom was no fool. She knew this had something to do with their debt being paid off and Jules wondered, for about the millionth time, if she should just come clean.

  Slipping simple gold hoops through her ears, Jules glanced at her mom in the mirror.

  With her dark brows raised and her arms crossed over her chest, she looked pretty much the same as she had when Jules was a teenager, not buying her excuses for why she was late getting home.

  Her mom knew there was a hell of a lot more going on than just a date.

  “They run an electronics company.”

  She didn’t plan to add that they ran a multi-million dollar electronics company.

  Slipping her feet into red pumps, she turned to check her reflection in the long mirror in her bedroom, the walls still sporting the black and purple paint she’d christened them with in her senior year of high school. Actually, she still loved the color combination. “I’ll have my cell. Don’t worry.”

  Her mom gave her the “other look,” which basically meant “Yeah, right.” Another expression Jules was familiar with.

  Her mom worried about everything and had since Jules had been born, apparently. Not that she didn’t have good cause to worry. Her husband had been cheating on her. That lump in her breast had been malignant. And Jules had slept with two men to get the money to pay off their debt.

  Turning to face her mom, Jules leaned in for a hug, so happy to feel the strength in her mom’s arms as she returned the hug. For a couple of years, Sara Carter had barely been able to lift her arms.