by Edie Sommers
Saying Yes…
Cassie:
My next-door neighbors, hotter than hell Jack and quietly luscious Andy, have a parade of women coming by, but they fire up the grill for hotdogs with me. I'd take one of them in a heartbeat, if they'd ever ask. Or both—a girl can dream.
What did I ever do to wind up in the friend zone?
Now the guys want to change that. They want me to date both of them and decide which one I want to keep. Easy enough, right?
There’s a slight problem. They’re twins, and choosing one might mean losing the other as a friend.
And I love them both.
Jack:
Cassie caught my eye the day she moved in next door. She’s funny, sweet, and sexy, the kind of woman you can take bowling one day and dancing the next. There’s only one thing keeping me from pursuing more than friendship with her—my brother wants her too.
Andy:
Even with the flu Cassie manages to be gorgeous, and it’s sheer torture to live next to her, see her day after day, and resist taking her into my arms and kissing her senseless. We read the same books, and although I’m not much of a talker, somehow she breaks through my defenses. I’ve never met anyone I wanted more. Jack and I finally realize that we risk losing her if we don’t tell her how we feel, and leave the decision up to her which one of us she wants.
Would it be possible for her to want us both?
Saying Yes
Edie Sommers
Copyright
Warning: this book contains adult language and themes, including graphic descriptions of sexual acts that some may find offensive. It is intended for mature readers only, of legal age to possess such material in their area. This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, events, and locations are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author and publisher.
Saying Yes © Edie Sommers 2018
Cover Art by Cosmic Letterz
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Rocky Ridge Books
PO Box 6922
Broomfield, CO 80021
1
God, but I hurt. Arms, legs, head, nose. Especially my poor, stuffy nose.
Collapsing back onto my lumpy old couch didn’t make me feel better, and only drove home the real reason Aunt Sheila gave me the spring-infested nightmare and bought a new one.
And I thought I was her favorite niece.
Shivers raced over my skin. Oh goodie, here we went again, time to grab the blanket I’d kicked off five minutes ago when I’d gotten too hot.
C’mon, Cassie, you can do this! Taking a deep breath, I lunged, grasped the corner of the blanket and pulled.
Ah, warm again.
For five minutes. Who’d turned up the heat? I tossed the blanket off.
I lay on the couch from Hell, suffering from what might be slow death—or the flu. Wisps of long brown hair clung to the pillow creases on my cheek.
A pile of books lay on the floor by the couch, covers embellished with spaceships and planets, police badges, thumbprints, or magnifying glasses, and me too unfocused to comprehend a single word.
The strains of Stairway to Heaven sounded from the direction of the kitchen. Crap! Had I left my cell phone in there?
First line of song, second line of song. No use trying to answer. By the time I got there the caller would have hung up—or retired. Instead, I merely enjoyed the music for however long it lasted.
My vantage point gave me a good view of the yard. Yay! More snow! Not. Piled cold white stuff meant Mom wouldn’t be driving down to check on me. Magoo wasn’t going to be a lick of help—that furry tripping hazard wanted kitty kibbles twice a day, but would he lift a paw to bring tissues or tea? Hah. My other possible chance at saving likely hid in her apartment, working from home while waiting for the spring thaw.
My snow-hating bestie had likely been the one to call.
Again the phone rang. Placing one hand on the couch, I groaned and tried to rise. Nope. Not happening. When were the meds the doctor gave me going to kick in?
Whooshing from outside called my attention to the front picture window. A bundled-up neighbor wielded a snow blower with expert aim at the driveway of our shared duplex.
Andy? Or Jack? Hard to tell with the knit hat, down-filled jacket, and a scarf hiding most of his face. The man in all black worked with practiced grace.
The figure waved a gloved hand.
I tried to wave, but my arm weighed a ton. If I ever found out which of my dozen sick coworkers gave me this bug, I’d… I’d…
No idea. What kind of bodily harm wouldn’t be against company policy?
My ancient screen door rattled against the doorframe with the force of a knock. Who could possibly be here? No extra cars sat in the driveway.
“Cassie?”
A hot flash and cold chills competed for dominance. Andy. Which meant the pile of winter gear in the front yard must be Jack.
If I didn’t answer would he go back to his house? No, don’t leave!
What to do? How many times had I fantasized about Andy, Jack, or both in my house for something other than a friendly dinner or movie binge? God, they were gorgeous. And sweet. And funny. Of course, in my fantasies I’d have flawless hair and makeup and wouldn’t be dressed in the oversized Mickie Mouse T-shirt I’d raided from my brother’s closet the last time I visited Mom and Dad. At least I had shorts on and not just panties.
If I crawled, could I make it to the door before he got away?
He knocked again. “Cassie? Are you okay?”
“No,” I tried to croak, unable to get the words out.
After another short wait and knock, his footsteps retreated. No! Come back!
Please!
Not nearly as bundled up as his brother, Andy trudged out into the snow dressed in jeans and a sweater, head bare. He crossed his arms and tucked his gloveless hands under his armpits. Silence fell as the snow blower stopped.
The brothers spoke, gesturing wildly toward the house. Andy nodded and headed back my way.
The snow blower restarted, whirring its heart out. Nothing. Andy wasn’t coming back. I sighed and flopped down on my back.
Just in time to need the blanket.
Footsteps approached my door again. More knocking. “Cassie? Cassie, can you hear me?”
“Yes!” I screamed as loudly as I could, resulting in a hoarse whisper.
“Look, Cassie, Jack said he saw you, and you’re not answering. I’m coming in, okay? I just want to check on you.” Had I left the door unlocked? If not, as my landlord, Andy had a key. The knob turned and the door opened.
My flashy heart keyring hung from the doorknob, key still stuck in the lock. Oh.
One of the world’s sexiest neighbors rushed to the couch. “Oh, my God, girl. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I attempted.
Andy stared down at the pile of blankets and tangled hair I’d become, eyes going wide, and scowled. “Not that I’m calling you a liar or anything…”
I coughed. “You shouldn’t be here. I have the flu. I don’t want you to get sick.” Andy. Here. In my living room. And me sending him away. Wrong on so many levels.
Andy patted his upper arm through his soft-looking blue sweater. “I got a flu shot. So did Jack.”
“Those things don’t always work.” I should
know. I’d rolled my sleeve up too.
“I’ll take my chances.” He rested a hand on the back of the couch and peered down at me. “Did you go to the doctor?”
I nodded at the coffee table, full of doctor-visit evidence. The same doctor who’d given me the traitorous shot that worked for others, but not me. Not this year.
Andy nodded, did a doubletake, and picked up the cup of tea I’d wasted the last of my strength reserves to make. “This is cold. Want me to warm it up? Or better yet, make you some more.”
“You don’t have to do that.” One of my fantasy men playing nurse. I’d postpone the happy dance until I felt better. Right then I nearly died of shame.
“Look, Cassie, you’re sick. You need to stay hydrated. When was the last time you ate?”
Ate? Food? My stomach rolled. “This morning. I think. What day is it?”
“Tuesday.”
“Then yesterday.” If a small bag of potato chips and a half pack of Saltines counted.
He shook his head, tutting. “You need better than that.” A lightning bolt in a blue sweater flew through the living room and out of the house.
Minutes passed. Another knock sounded before Andy crept back into the room, bearing a loaded tray. He placed his burden on the coffee table and handed me a steaming cup. I sniffed, but nothing defeated the barrier of my stuffed-up nose.
“What is this?”
“It’s spiced tea. My grandmother used to give it to me and Jack when we were sick.”
Though I couldn’t taste much, the warmth felt so good on my painful throat. I released a contented sigh.
Andy let out a soft chuckle. “I thought you might like that.”
“What’s in it?” My voice came out ten times softer than my normal tones and sounded like I’d gotten a mouthful of gravel stuck in my throat. In other circumstances, the husky come hither tone might be considered sexy.
Might being the operative word.
“Tang, several spices, instant lemon tea. When I’m really sick, I toss in a shot of Rock and Rye.” My fantasy nurse winked.
“And that cures you?” I sipped the drink. I’d have to remember to get the recipe.
“Drink enough Rock and Rye and you won’t care if you’re sick.”
I shivered. Andy picked up my blanket off the floor, frowned, and darted out of the house again, returning a few minutes later with the softest looking throw I’d ever seen. He tucked plush warmth around me.
For one moment, with his hands on me, even with a throw separating us, I nearly didn’t mind feeling like I’d been run over.
I rolled grateful eyes up at him. If I was Magoo I’d be purring. Speaking of… I raised my head. Magoo’s black tail stuck out from under the throw. Spoiled kitty. He didn’t make much of a nurse, but my furry companion hadn’t left my side since I’d taken up residence on the couch.
Or rather, my feet. One convulsion too many kept him away from the sneeze machine of my head.
“I tossed this in the dryer for a minute or two.” Andy turned back to the coffee table and lifted the lid on a small pot. “This should be cool enough by now.” Crouching down on the floor, he dipped a spoon into the pot and lifted a spoonful of soup to my lips.
Embarrassment warred with necessity. I opened my mouth and accepted the offering. Oh, wow. Chicken noodle. I hadn’t even realized I was hungry. Lifting my hand to take the spoon and feed myself seemed like a solid plan. The execution failed.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked when my hand dropped midway of the spoon.
“It’s okay.” He began feeding me again.
“You don’t have to feed me,” I protested, even while opening my mouth wide for another bite.
He gave me an indulgent smile. “No, I don’t have to. Now eat.”
Even on an empty stomach, I only managed about half the soup. “Thank you.”
Andy could sit in my living room floor, smile at me forever, and I’d be one happy woman. “You’re welcome. Now, do you need any of your medicine?” He nodded toward the multiple bottles and blister packs lined up like Rockettes on the coffee table.
“The first one.” I nodded in the general direction of a short, squat pharmacy bottle, full of something guaranteed to make me sleep.
He opened the top, poured a pill into his hand and fed it to me. Reaching for the tray again, he lifted a plastic tumbler and brought it to my mouth. Sweet, cool water flowed over my tongue. I closed my eyes and enjoyed.
He picked up a book off the floor and held it to his nose. One of the murder mysteries. “Hey! You’re reading this series too? I’m up to number seven.”
“I’m on eight,” I said. Mr. Perfect read? Cool! Though I couldn’t picture his brother reading anything without cars on the cover.
I’d been too preoccupied to notice the rest of what he’d brought until now. “Jack and I have to get to work. Do you need anything before we go?”
For you to stay? “No, I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? Being part owner has its privileges. I don’t have to go in.”
What? Take off work for me? He and his brother had a business to run. “No, really. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“I would in a flat minute.” The eagerness plastered on his face showed the truth of his words.
I barely held back a “Really? Sure!” Instead I managed to be somewhat noble. “I’ll be okay.”
He placed something on the floor beside me and brought a tube up to my mouth. What the…
He held up the end. I went cross eyed until he pulled back. “You’re weak but need to drink. Lifting a glass might be hard right now. This came out of my hiking backpack.” He held up a full plastic bag and showed the tube again. “Here’s the bite tube. Get thirsty, just bite and use this as a straw.”
I tried. Hey, it worked, rewarding me with a mouthful of cool water.
Andy gently pushed the hair out of my eyes with a fingertip. “I’ll stop by at lunchtime to check on you.” He glanced around. “I called earlier, but you didn’t answer. Where’s your cell phone?”
“Kitchen,” I mumbled, suddenly very, very tired.
He traipsed into my kitchen. Magoo followed him, meowing and catching up to strop around his ankles. Andy knelt and scratched the cat behind the ear. “You need feeding too, boy?” Magoo headbutted his hand. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Andy sneezed. Lord, let him not catch my flu.
Cabinets opened and closed, followed by the pop of a can top. Andy returned alone, clutching my phone. He held it up to his nose, then tucked it in beside me. “You have a full charge. If you need me, you call, okay?”
I fell asleep before he’d closed the door.
Andy lay spooned against my back, arm wrapped around me and lips against my neck. I moaned. His hardness pressed against my butt. One push back and…
“You awake, sugar?”
What? My eyes flew open. Alone on the couch, darn it. What woke me from such a lovely dream?
“Hi there!”
“Eeek!” I flinched, staring up at a sheer vision. My cheeks grew hot, and from more than fever. If Jack only knew the dream I’d just had of his brother…
“Hi yourself,” I managed. I’d have palmed my face if I’d had the energy. Smooth, Cassie, really smooth.
The scent of burgers and fries hit my nose. Hey! I could smell again.
“I brought you a couple of grease bombs and a soda.” Jack shrugged. “Andy said we needed to bring you lunch.”
“And he made you do it.” How embarrassing, this hunk of man having to leave work and come play babysitter to me.
“No. I volunteered.” The grin on his face missed innocent by a country mile. “In fact, he might have managed to unlock the store room by now.” Jack’s phone chimed. He made way too much of a show of digging the device out of his skin-tight jeans and glancing at the screen. His grin widened. “Yup. He’s out. Says he’s gonna rip me a new asshole when I get back to work.” The neighbor with a reputation for being a h
andful didn’t appear apologetic in the least.
Ah, the eyerolls I’d seen from Andy at his brother’s antics.
Wait! “You fought over who would bring me lunch?”
His forehead crinkled. “Well, yeah.”
Explained why I felt better. I’d died and gone to heaven.
Six-feet or so of Southern charmer hunkered down and hip checked me over on the couch. Before I could struggle into a sitting position, he dropped the bag and drink he’d been holding onto the coffee table, barely missing my own personal pharmacy, lifted me with one hand, and arranged pillows behind me with the other.
Oh, hold me forever!
He didn’t, darn the luck.
Instead, Jack poked a straw into the drink and held it to my lips. Soda! Yum. Probably not the best thing for a flu victim, but I wasn’t about to say a thing.
Jack sat the drink down, pulled a wrapped lump from the bag, and peeled back the paper to reveal a hamburger. “Here. Eat.”
I ate, despite how badly the mere act of chewing wore me out. I managed half the burger and three fries. “Thanks,” I said.
Plenty of floor, plenty of couch, and yet Magoo had to walk up my body to sniff the air. Jack offered the fluffy little moocher a French fry. Magoo sniffed and hopped off the couch, tail in the air.
“Don’t mention it. Need anything else?” Jack asked. If I’d been healthier, his sultry purr would have me sliding off the couch.
I stared at the broad perfection of his chest, how his firm pecs strained the front of his “Getsinger Motors” sweatshirt, my mind flashing images of many, many things I needed.
None of them repeatable to a man I stood no chance of getting them from. And out of the realm of possibility until I got better.
He sat so close, his thigh pressed against mine. Though he didn’t quite match Andy’s bedside manner, Jack took care of me in his own way.
He’d brought me food, right? I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around him locking his brother in a storeroom.
