The two brothers had walked into her café one evening with guitars in hand, seeking a place to perform. And while she asked them to audition, she knew somehow that they already claimed a special place at her café.
“And if there’s not a special place for them at my café,” she mused with a grin, “Then I’ll make one.”
As she stood now in a compact, lowly lit coffee house that just barely allowed for the throng of young females that filled its smooth taupe walls, she couldn’t help but share their open admiration for the incredible masculine beauty of the performers before them.
Both men stood to an impressive height at the center of the stage, boasting muscular forms topped by chiseled faces and radiant falls of silken hair. Both of these wonders glowed with their bronzed skin and flawless, white-toothed smiles; gorgeous grins they often aimed in her direction. And both wore ultra-tight blue jeans and revealing muscle shirts that showed off their chiseled, hard muscled bodies to most impressive effect.
Yet while Chase Harrington bore locks as dark as midnight and pure crystalline eyes, his younger brother Taylor was a smooth honey blond with cocoa brown gems. Each, she figured, presented their own special image of ethereal radiance; and when they opened their mouths and strummed their guitars, the song that they released supplied the perfect soundtrack to the spectacle of their beauty.
Much to her amazement the brothers performed original songs; romantic numbers that blended folk and soul to form the basis of their lush romantic melodies.
And, as had been the case on many evenings before this one, Simone felt moved—no, compelled—to cease with her duties at the coffee shop and just listen.
She shut her eyes now as her senses were bathed in an incredible melody; one supplied by a chorus of soft, smooth masculine voices that drifted high on the air above them.
Immediately her tired body relaxed, and her senses reeled beneath the effects of a moonlight serenade, her public surroundings dissolving around her as she lost herself in a lyrical tale of true but illusive love.
Then her eyes opened to find that the brothers Harrington sang only for her; their gazes trained on her as they sent those trademark beneficent smiles in her direction—all the while singing lyrics of love and passion that seemed intended only for her.
Beaming openly in their direction, Simone giggled in spite of herself as she blew kisses in their direction; a gesture that drew a loud, derisive snort from a far corner of the room.
Simone froze, and her grin dissolved, as she recognized the harsh, rough tone of Harry Stanley, a regular at the café who nonetheless seemed highly irregular in his blatant and frequent displays of rudeness.
“While you’re standing there getting all warmed up, Simone,” the chubby, grizzled coffee enthusiast made his voice heard above the music that resounded through the walls around them, “The coffee pot in your hand is growing cold.” he paused here, adding as he rolled his eyes heavenward, “So why don’t you get your chunky butt over here and bring me some brew?”
Immediately the crowd fell silent, and all music subsided, as Simone turned to fix her rude customer with a cold, hard gaze.
“Well as it turns out, Harry,” she told him finally, tone flat and cool, “The coffee pot in my hand is growing cold—so out and out icy, in fact, that I’m sure you’ll want none of its icky cold contents. So, as a courtesy to you, I shall at this point refuse you service and bid you good evening.”
A resounding round of applause met these pointed words, an ovation that did not escape the notice of the man who’d just been asked to clear the premises.
“Go ahead, you politically correct hipsters, speak up for the fat girl because you feel sorry for her,” he scoffed, making a broad and very rude gesture down the length of Simone’s short, rubenesque form. “But you’re not about to embarrass me or drive me out of the place where I spend my good, hard earned money every evening.”
He fell silent and suddenly two tall muscular men flanked his table; males who had cleared the stage at the center of the room in lightning fast, catlike strides before confronting the heathen who insulted their hostess.
“You will apologize,” Chase demanded, balling his sturdy fists at his sides as his muscles flexed to daunting effect.
“And then you will leave,” Taylor growled with a nod, adding with a brief, meaningful look in the direction of a stalwart Simone, “Just as the lady has directed.”
Harry stared at them a moment, shaking his head from side to side as he rose from the table.
“Well from what I’ve heard about the two of you,” he said finally, adding over his shoulder as he headed for the door, “I’d better stay on your good side.”
And with these words, he was gone.
Simone grinned as the entire coffee house erupted in a second round of applause; this one reserved for the now beaming brothers who bowed low before their adoring public.
As the patrons of her establishment went back to chatting amongst themselves, Simone addressed her heroes.
“Thanks, you two,” she told them, linking her hands with theirs as she added, “Rest assured that, in addition to more than earning your artist’s stipend tonight, you’ll also get an extra special bonus for your personal protection services,” she paused here, adding with a shrug and a skittish grin, “A bonus that likely will take the form of a bagel. With cream cheese, if you’re good and fortunate. And perhaps even a choco cinnamon roll, if we have any fresh baked.”
The brothers laughed.
“Well actually, darling, as tempting as that sounds, there is another way that you can repay us,” Chase offered, adding with the appealing flash of his deep crystalline eyes, “We’d very much like you to come out with us this evening after the show.” He paused here, adding with a mysterious glance in his brother’s direction, “We know the night life of this town pretty well—and we’d love to take you out and show you a good time.”
Simone froze, just vaguely wondering if she had lost her powers of hearing and comprehension. Could it be that these two gorgeous, charming young men had just asked her out on a date—with both of them?
“Criminy,” she said aloud, adding with a blasted weak attempt at a casual laugh, “Listen, you guys don’t have to thank me for this gig. And you don’t have to try to cheer me up; believe me, flagrant public humiliation is just part and parcel of just about any customer service job, mine included….”
“You mistake our motivation, dear lady,” Taylor interrupted emphasizing his words with the sexy flip of his soft, honey blond hair. “We are not trying to thank you, though we certainly do owe you many thanks for this incredible gig. And we certainly do not pity the strong, intelligent woman who impresses us every evening with her spirit and attitude,” he paused here, adding as he probed her with a penetrating gaze, “It is these very qualities, in fact, that make us like and admire you more each day. And we’d very much like to spend some time with you, to get to know you better.”
Simone gaped.
“Get to know me better—as in hanging out?” she asked, passing sure that whoever was currently hosting the perennial television favorite Candid Camera would jump out from behind a conveniently placed potted plant and call her bluff at any given moment.
Chase pursed his full, moist lips to sexy effect as he replied, “Forgive us, but that sounds a bit too cozy and informal for what we have in mind.”
“Indeed,” Taylor agreed immediately, adding with a sexy grin that sent chills down her spine. “We’d prefer think of this little get together as something they call a date.”
Simone had heard enough.
“OK, on the off chance that you’re serious—which I highly doubt—allow me to remind you that there are two of you and one of me. That is not the usual male to female quotient that one sees as part and parcel of a standard dating experience,” she pointed out with a smirk, adding in a lower, more serious tone, “Also, and as you are well aware, I already have a boyfriend. And that would be Aaron, my co-owner h
ere at Cool Beans.”
Chase shook his head.
“Yes, we meet Aaron often around here,” he admitted, adding as he exchanged chagrined looks with his suddenly silent brother, “We’re sorry to say that he does not often treat us with the same degree of kindness and respect as you do.” He paused here, adding with an intense look in her direction, “We also have noticed that he seldom respects the very special young lady in his life. That is why, my lady, we have absolutely no qualms with asking you out for the evening.”
Taylor nodded.
“Well that,” he purred, adding as he arched his feathered eyebrows to sensual effect, “And as it happens, Simone, my brother and I are complete and total sluts. If we meet a woman that sparks our interest, we just go after her—regardless of whatever personal connections she may have at that time.”
Simone let loose with a low nervous laugh; one that just barely covered the lightning bolt of arousal that coursed wild through every inch of her being; making her heart pound and her pulse race as she considered the shocking, seductive words of the beautiful gentlemen before her.
“If you don’t want this to happen, Simone, then please forget that we issued the invitation. And forgive us if we have caused offense,” Chase told her, tone soft and sultry. “Yet if you want to take a chance, to live dangerously for one night, then we promise to show you the time of your life—a night during which no fantasy will go unfulfilled, no desire unsatisfied.”
Taylor nodded.
“We promise to be worth the risk,” he agreed, adding in a sultry whisper, “We’d love to show you the sexiest, most romantic night of your life.”
Simone said nothing for a moment, just drew a long breath as her being was seized in a wave of pure erotic pleasure; one that sharpened her senses as she stared into the wide, gorgeous eyes of the men who seduced her with such blatant advances.
They stared back at her with narrow eyed gazes that seemed unnerving in their intensity; ensnaring and hypnotizing her as a wave of bare, hard desire seized her hard—filling her mind with unbidden fantasies that teased and tempted her.
Finally and with a deep, sustaining breath, she tore her gaze from theirs and shook her head.
“As much as I’d love to go out with you, Gents, and as much as all of my gal pals will question my sanity for saying no, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to do just that,” she advised them, adding as she bit her lip, “I’ve made a firm commitment, to my business and my man, and I have to honor it.”
Exchanging regretful looks Chase and Taylor nonetheless nodded as they moved toward her in a bold advance.
“Let us know if you change your mind,” Chase whispered, joining his brother in gracing her cheeks with warm, sweet kisses.
Simone grinned in spite of herself as both of her friends pressed her flushed face with their soft, moist lips; their mouths rubbing in soft, massaging motions against her skin as the tips of their tongues flicked daringly forward—grazing their cheeks as they added a sinful dimension that nearly made her regret her rejection of them.
“OK, so I do regret it,” she mused in silence, wrapping her arms around their massive muscled shoulders as their lips continued to stroke her cheeks.
“Then don’t say no,” Taylor whispered in her ear, his long, wet tongue flicking her earlobe as he added, “Just say yes to us. Then relax and enjoy what comes next.”
Simone froze.
“Did you just read my mind?” she said aloud, brows furrowed in a show of shock.
“Yes,” the brothers answered in unison, drawing back to grace her with mysterious smiles as each fixed a muscular arm around her buxom waist.
Simone’s eyes flew wide as she stepped gently but firmly away from them; flashing an uneasy smile in their direction as she reached for her nearby coffee pot.
“Now this stuff is REALLY cold. If Harry was here, he’d have a massive coronary,” she quipped, adding as she made a vague gesture in the direction of the stage, “If you’d like to, Gentlemen, please feel free to go ahead and finish your set. Then feel free to clear your gear, collect your tips and grab some coffee and treats before you go. I think that I smell a fresh batch of cinnamon buns baking from the kitchen—feel free to chow down.”
With this incredibly awkward sendoff she waved in their direction, promptly heading off to the aforementioned kitchen to check on the aforementioned cinnamon buns.
Chapter Two
With swift, crisp steps she traipsed over the basic, clean lined wooden floorboards that lined her café; soon passing through a classic pair of white swinging doors to access the small but busy kitchen that formed the cornerstone of her café operations.
Immediately she was greeted with the warm, succulent scents of cocoa, chocolate, and the before mentioned cinnamon, along with something much cooler that arrived in the form of a stiff, stern café co-owner—one who she also called the man in her life.
A short, chubby man with an evident bald spot and a perpetual scowl, Aaron greeted her girlfriend with an evident frown that seemed particularly deep and pronounced—even for him.
“I just got off the phone with Harry Stanley. He called me from his car phone, as he was speeding as far away from here as possible,” he told her, adding as he arched his eyebrows, “I have to tell you, Simone, that I am absolutely furious.”
Simone nodded.
“I know, baby, and I am too,” she told him, adding with a broad gesture, “Can you believe that that jerk would fat shame me in front of the entire café? I say that we ban him from the premises.”
Aaron shook his head.
“Quite the contrary, love,” he spat out this last word like it was venom, “I have offered Harry free—and, may I add, hot—coffee for three months—that is, if he’s nice enough to come back.” He paused here, adding as he scowled outright in her direction, “It’s you I’d like to ban from the premises right now.”
Simone gasped.
“What in the blazes are you talking about?” she asked him, planting her hands on her hips as she added, “How could you, my boyfriend of all people, possibly take his side?”
Aaron sighed.
“Before I’m your boyfriend, Simone, I have to be a businessman first,” he informed her, adding as he seared her with a cold, condemning look, “Harry told me about how you were standing stock still in the middle of our establishment, drooling over your beefcake musician friends instead of serving our guests—something that I myself have noticed you doing, by the way.”
Simone rolled her eyes.
“So I just happened to bring in an incredible entertainment act that has doubled our customer base here at Cool Beans. Plus we’re selling more coffee than ever—believe you me, after the ladies see a Harrington brothers show, they are in great need of some good strong brew, among other things,” she snorted, adding more seriously, “So what if I took just a moment to watch and enjoy their show?”
Aaron shook his head.
“When you’re on the job, your attention should be on our guests,” he countered, “Not on the Michael Bolton Twins.”
Simone nodded.
“Perhaps you have a point,” she acknowledged, all the while continuing to meet his hard, stern gaze with one of our own, “Even so, there is no way you can justify the way he verbally abused and publically humiliated me. That much, Aaron, you have to admit.”
She froze as Aaron met her words with a loud, derisive snort.
“Maybe you should admit, Simone, that you should lay off sampling our cookies and cupcakes and stick to our new line of bottled waters and low cal coffees,” he told her, adding with a vigorous nod, “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about guys telling you the truth, even if it is right in the middle of our café.”
Simone looked at him a long moment, finally meeting his insulting words with a short, sharp nod.
“As the co-owner of this café, I have to say that I am shocked by your insensitivity and lack of professionalism,” she told him, adding with her chin li
fted high, “As your girlfriend, I have just come to the conclusion that you are a complete and irrefutable douche bag. And since I can’t break up with you as a co-worker—not yet, anyway—I will at this point proceed to dump you,” she announced this last part proudly, and in full view of at least five of their employees, “even it is right in the middle of the kitchen of our café.”
With this she stripped away the confining apron that covered her street clothes—which today took the form of a sleek lavender hued cashmere sweater and a black velvet skirt—and tossed it flat on the counter before them; piercing her now ex-boyfriend with a harsh, condemning glare as she turned for the door.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” Aaron thundered, his pudgy cheeks flushing bright red as he watched her departure with disbelieving eyes.
Simone smirked.
“Where am I going?” she repeated, adding with the smooth toss of her long dark hair, “Well if you really must know it, my dear; I’m going on a big ol’ date with the Michael Bolton twins.”
She could have sworn that she heard the spirited cheers of several female co-workers as she departed the kitchen—just in time to see the alleged Michael Bolton Twins walk out the front door.
“Wait up!” she called out, running for the door.
Chapter Three
Soon Simone found herself in the back seat of the Harrington brothers’ jet-black jeep; happily squished in the midst of their guitars, microphones and speakers as Chase and Taylor snagged the driver and passenger seats.
“You won’t regret coming with us, my darling,” Chase told her over his shoulder, slipping his key in the ignition before hitting the winding, palm lined avenue that fronted Cool Beans.
Flat out refusing to divulge their final destination to an excited Simone, the brothers soon stopped at a wine and cheese shop on the edge of town; coming away with a full, rich assortment of cheeses that ranged from brie to cheddar, in addition to a shiny gold hued magnum of sparkling champagne.
ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) Page 77
