Double Mountain Trouble: A MFM Menage Romance

by Katerina Cole

My head rolled back, and I tried to steady my breathing, begging my body to calm the swells deep in my belly. It had to last longer. I wanted him like this all night.

  “No,” he whispered. “Look at me.” It was a demand.

  My eyes fluttered open, and I witnessed pure and total desire in his gaze as he buried himself in me hard and strong. With his arms wrapped around my waist, I snaked my hands against his neck and held on for dear life while I came fiercely in his grasp, wave after wave. Our eyes locked as he squeezed me tighter in his embrace and let the release bring us to our knees.

  “Oh my God, Chelsea.” He breathed heavily in my ear. We draped across the floor, unable to move, a tangled web of bodies entwined.

  I exhaled, running my fingers through his hair. My body had never felt so exquisite—damp, warm, tender in the spots he had touched. His—I felt like I was his. I always did after we had sex.

  He kissed my shoulder and struggled to prop himself up. “Feel better? Did that clear your head?”

  “Is that what that was about? You did it to distract me?”

  He chuckled.

  “And I just thought you were excited about the sleepover.” I giggled at him. He looked cute like this—his face flushed, his body relaxed.

  He reached over my head and snagged a piece of paper off the table. He held it out to me.

  “What’s this?” It was dark. I could barely make out the words.

  “In honor of hanging out for five weeks, I wrote something for you. It came to me all of a sudden.” He smiled, showing his white teeth.

  I couldn’t believe it. He had never shown me any of his writing even though I had begged for weeks to read a chapter from his book. I held the page forward, catching the crack of light from the window.

  It would be easier if

  You didn’t taste so sweet

  If kissing you didn’t make me whole

  My world wouldn’t be right if we didn’t meet

  It’s like you looked at me and stole

  My breath, my heart, and I’m in deep

  It would be easier if

  I didn’t crave your lips

  If your warmth in my bed

  Didn’t take me on a summer trip

  This is something I’ve never said

  But, baby, you saved me

  “So? What do you think?” He was on one elbow, waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t know how to respond. What do you say when everything you’ve wanted to hear is written on a piece of paper? It was beautiful, simple, and perfect.

  “I love it. I think it’s amazing.” I reached toward him, crushing his lips against mine. If he never said it out loud, it was ok. I knew he loved me. It was all in the words. “But I didn’t get anything for you. Was I supposed to?”

  Jake laughed. I didn’t know what he thought was so funny. “No, darlin’, not at all. Lying here with you on the floor is all I need.”

  “Good.” I crawled toward him, hovering over his chest. “But I think I know something you might like.” I kissed his neck. “Think you’re up for it?” My teeth grazed against his collarbone.

  I loved the smile on his lips.

  “Baby, I’m up for anything you have planned.” He settled onto the floor, and I did my best to show him that the past five weeks were the hottest, most amazing weeks of my life.

  Thirty-One

  Ben

  I groaned at the sound of the crickets. First my phone and then Chelsea’s chirped with the morning alarm. It was dark, and I heard the rain pelting the aluminum roof. A man couldn’t possibly get out of bed with that perfect symphony tapping overhead.

  A low rumble of thunder echoed, and she snuggled under my arm, radiating warmth against my bare chest. I pulled her against me. There was no way we were going into work at five thirty. I fished for the phones and silenced them, powering each one off. To hell with Hayden Davis if he had a problem with it.

  Other than the hurricane, we never slept in together. Today was an exception. The store could take care of itself. I wanted to hide under the covers all morning with Chelsea and listen to the rainfall. I needed this.I needed her in my arms.

  “I’m going to be in so much trouble. I can’t believe you turned our phones off.” Chelsea bent next to the bed to collect the lacy lingerie set I had peeled off her body last night.

  “Do you ever call in sick? Have I ever called in sick?” I teased. I could tell she was annoyed, but I didn’t regret it for one second.

  “That’s not the point.” She turned for the bathroom. “My father probably used to like you. Now, you’re done.” She closed the door behind her, and I laughed.

  “I’ll take full responsibility. Ok?” I called to her through the flimsy door. The sink was running. I wasn’t sure she could hear me.

  She slid the door open. “What are you going to say? That I stayed over here last night? Uh-uh. No way.” She closed the door. “You do not understand.”

  I strolled to the hall and leaned against the opposite wall so I didn’t have to speak as loudly. “You don’t think he knows about us? Come on, Chelsea. We’re adults. We can do whatever we want. Who cares what your dad thinks?”

  The water stopped and the door moved to the side. She clutched her toothbrush firmly in her hand. “I care. I don’t want him to think I’m anything like him.” Her eyes hit the floor, and I recognized the look when she was trying to push tears away.

  I had never considered she would connect our relationship to her father’s affair. It wasn’t bad; it didn’t hurt people. Was it because we weren’t married? Sure, we were in a conservative part of the South, but Chelsea wasn’t close-minded. She had been to a liberal arts college, had relationships, slept with other guys—as much as I hated to think about that part.

  I tried to gauge where all of this was coming from. “You know what we have isn’t in any way like some secret affair, right? We can be together, go out. There are no other people. There is nothing wrong with what is happening between us.”

  She put her toothbrush back in the holder and turned to face me. “I didn’t mean for that to sound like it did. Of course, I don’t think there is anything wrong about us. I love being with you. I loved last night.” She smiled. “But my parents have preached waiting for sex until marriage since the day my mother gave the birds and the bees talk. As far as they know, I’m as virginally white as it comes. I’ve never let them think otherwise. When he finds out, my father is going to think of me the same way I think of him. Like I’ve done something bad.” She paused. “And he’s going to hate you for corrupting me.”

  I arched my eyebrow. If we weren’t in the middle of such a serious discussion, I would throw out a joke about how there was no way I was the corruptor in this scenario, but that was better left alone.

  “Then, that’s his own damn fault for not knowing what’s right and wrong.” I reached for her waist. “Because, this is about damn near perfect.” I kissed her lips, tasting the fresh mint on her mouth. “Don’t let him make you feel guilty about us.”

  “I don’t have one ounce of guilt about you. This has been the best summer of my life.” I loved when her blue eyes lit up like this. “But part of me still doesn’t want to disappoint them. Is that stupid?”

  “It’s not stupid at all.” At twenty-eight, I was still doing things to get my dad’s attention. Hoping the next movie would elicit some kind of praise or compliment. Where my mother was concerned, I didn’t want to embarrass her or cause her any pain. It wasn’t stupid. Chelsea loved her parents, faults, sins, and all. It wasn’t something you outgrew.

  “But, at some point, they have to recognize you as an adult. And you can’t feel guilty about it.” I kissed her on the forehead before walking to the bedroom. My extra towels were in a drawer at the end of the bed.

  “That’s easy for you to say. Your father isn’t having an affair and getting ready to find out you’re sleeping with the clerk you hired.” Her eyes closed and she leaned against the door. “This day is going to be
a freakin’ disaster.”

  “Did you already forget about your call this afternoon? It can’t be a bad day.” I grabbed one red and one white towel.

  “How can I forget that? I woke up thinking about Austin.”

  I was glad she was so excited about the call. Blue Steel Records was owned by one of the wide receivers I played with in college. Brandon was a good guy; he would watch out for her.

  I threw a towel at her. “Here.”

  She tilted her head to side. “What’s this?”

  “Get in the shower. Now.” I stood, towering over her.

  “Oh no. There’s no way we’ll both fit. You can barely get in there.” Her head shook.

  “Darlin’, we will fit.” I turned the knob on the hot water side. “But we only have seven minutes for me to wash all these problems away for you, so stop arguing with me and get in.” My eyes darted to the stream of water sputtering behind her. For a second, I thought she might not take me up on my offer. I considered lifting her up and putting her under the water, but before I could act on it, she tugged the tank top off her chest, shimmied out of something silky and blue, and stepped into the shower.

  “Damn, girl,” I muttered, bracing myself against the wall. Maybe she thought I did all these things to make her feel better, to erase her doubts and fears, but she didn’t know that making her smile turned my world right side up.

  “Mr. Owen, sir. I’m really sorry Chelsea and I weren’t here to help Bertie open the store this morning.” I folded my hands behind my back and waited for the store owner to give it to me. I was prepared.

  Hayden stayed seated in the cramped office. “Son, I have brought you into my business. Cindy and I had you over for dinner.” He cleared his throat. “And I’m having a real hard time right now listening to this.”

  I realized this wasn’t the most comfortable conversation between two men. If I ever had a daughter, I knew I would be the kind of dad who eagle-eyed any boy who stepped within ten feet of her. Regardless of the situation with Eileen Meeks, I did feel for the guy sitting behind the desk. This was damn awkward.

  “I know. I know. And I appreciate everything, sir. I did not intend to keep Chelsea from work. It won’t happen again.”

  “Fell asleep watching a movie and you both forgot to charge your phones?” the father asked skeptically.

  We both knew that wasn’t the entire story, but I was sticking to it. We could all pretend that’s what happened and maybe the consequences for Chelsea wouldn’t be so bad. I had volunteered to face the firing squad to spare her the embarrassment.

  “Yes, sir. It was irresponsible on my part.” I hoped we could drop the details, and Hayden would let me get back to the kayaks and snorkel sets.

  “All right, let’s just leave it at that.” He cleared his throat. “If it happens again, you won’t get a warning.”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir. Understood. It won’t.” I turned for the door, anxious to end the conversation. I’d had knock-down, drag-out arguments with directors that were easier to deal with than the tension in this office. I closed the door behind me and strolled out to the docks.

  A grandfather was teaching his grandson how to pin fish at the edge of the pier. The clouds had dispersed, and there were patches of sunlight peeping through.

  I chuckled as I took my station in the rental stand. I hadn’t felt that much like a teenager since I was one. It was downright hilarious that I had almost gotten an ass-chewing from an overprotective father. Now that was a headline Celebrity Watch should run: World’s Most Eligible Bachelor Sent to Time Out. I flipped through the checklist on the clipboard and counted how many pieces of equipment were out on the water.

  Thirty-Two

  Chelsea

  “Wish me luck.” I clutched my phone in my right hand, and waited for Jake to say something calming.

  “Good luck, pretty girl.” He winked. “Just remember, don’t agree to anything until they send over a copy of the contract and we read through it. I don’t want them to take advantage of you because it’s your first deal.”

  He wouldn’t open up about his book contract, but he spoke with such passion, I could only assume he had a bad experience with contracts. The advice was good. I needed it. No reason to jump into anything before I had time to think through the offer.

  “I’m so nervous.” My knees might actually knock together I was shaking so much.

  He held me by the shoulders. “They already love your music. You are the ones with all the cards here.”

  “Right. Right.” I bit my bottom lip. Jake’s eyes drifted over my shoulder.

  “Hey, what’s going on at The Carribe Inn?” He pointed toward the hotel across the street.

  I pivoted on my heels and caught a glimpse of a large group climbing the stairs of the historic building. It looked like there were photographers following the party into the lobby.

  “I have no idea. But Bertie would know. She knows everything.” I turned back, needing reassurance from his eyes. They were always so soothing when I got worked up.

  He patted me on the backside, followed by a tight squeeze. “Go get ‘em. It’s four.” He spun me out of the rental entrance. It would be silly to ask him to make the call with me, but part of me wanted him close by.

  This was more nerve-wracking than my first day of classes at Carolina when I didn’t know a single soul, or the last day of grad school when my future became a black hole of uncertainty.

  I forced a smile as I walked to the parking lot. Wasn’t there a saying about smiling on the phone? I couldn’t think of it, but knew it mattered. It was stuffy inside my car. I turned the AC to high, hoping it would cool quickly. There was no privacy in the store, and after my late-morning stunt, there wasn’t any way I could take off early. A call in the seclusion of my car was the best I could work out.

  The number for Blue Steel was in my back pocket. I pulled out the email, read the numbers aloud, and tapped the digits into my phone.

  “Blue Steel Records. How may I direct your call?” a woman answered.

  “Hi, this is Chelsea Davis. I have a conference call with Brandon Edwards.” My stomach flipped with butterflies. This was actually happening.

  “Yes, it looks like you’re on the call schedule. Hold please.”

  I didn’t know if I was breathing in or out. My chest was so tight, it might have forgotten what it was supposed to do.

  “Chelsea! Great to have you on the line.” A booming voice sounded in my ear. “This is Brandon.”

  “Mr. Edwards, thank you so much. I couldn’t believe it when I got your email yesterday.” I hoped I sounded like a professional.

  “Call me Brandon.”

  “Ok. Brandon.” This time I had a genuine smile. I couldn’t help but think parts of his words reminded me of Jake’s accent. They were both from Texas.

  “Let’s talk a minute. Looks like we have three songs of yours, and I have an artist in mind who could cut them.”

  My heart stopped. “Really?” I thought we were going to discuss them taking the songs on and shopping around for someone to record or demo. It never occurred to me there would be someone lined up already.

  “Have you ever heard of Quinn Jansen?”

  “Oh my God!” I covered my mouth. All the prepping in the world couldn’t contain my excitement. It sputtered out. Ever since Quinn had made a few YouTube videos that went viral overnight, people were clamoring for anything she could produce. This was unreal.

  “So, I take that as a yes?” Brandon chuckled a deep, warm laugh on the other end.

  “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise. Yes, that is a yes. I know who she is.” I noticed that the crowd from The Inn had gathered again. They were crossing the street.

  “Good. I think she’ll be the perfect fit for your songs. You’re both young and have that vibe that people really want right now.”

  Why were there people taking pictures? The crowd was distracting. Great, they were headed into the store. I would have to wrap the c
all up quickly, and get back inside before Bertie ratted me out. I could only barter for so much time away from the register.

  “Chelsea, you there?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m here.” I shifted in my seat, turning from the scene in front of the store. “I am absolutely blown away. Quinn Jansen is amazing. I think she’d be perfect for my songs. I just can’t believe she’d want to record something of mine.” Quinn was known for her indie roots, but this seemed too good to be true.

  “Why wouldn’t she? She’s friends with Ben too.”

  I didn’t want to sound like any more of a rookie than I already had, but I didn’t know who Ben was. Maybe a producer.

  “When Ben’s agent called and said he wanted us to take a look at your material, it was a no brainer. Ben and I go way back. Played football together in college, but I’m sure he’s mentioned that to you.”

  I shook my head. “Mr.—” I corrected myself, “Brandon. I don’t know a Ben.” This was embarrassing. He was probably an important and influential music maker, and I had to admit to the head of Blue Steel Records I had never heard of him.

  “Ben Baldwin? Tall guy? Makes all the ladies swoon? He’s got a Texas accent—likes cold beer? You don’t know the movie star, Ben Baldwin?”

  I slumped into the seat, my body stiff with fear. Or was it shock? Whatever it was, it made me shake and my stomach spasm. This didn’t make sense. Brandon Edwards could not possibly be telling me that I knew Ben Baldwin. That wasn’t possible. The tall, heart-melting Texan I knew was named Jake.

  “I-I don’t know.” It was the best I could muster considering the panic gripping me.

  “Listen, Chelsea. I have another call coming in. I hate to cut this short, but I’ll have my assistant email over the contracts. Take a few days, look everything over, and then we can set up a time to talk again. Sound good?”

  I nodded, forgetting he needed audibles on the phone.

  “Tell Ben I said howdy, and I’m looking forward to grabbing a beer with him when he gets back from vacation. Son of a bitch has been gone all summer.”