Her Three Rangers: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Roma James

  We had all agreed that it worked out perfectly that she was the spitting image of me. Not knowing which man was her biological father had been a blessing, since it truly felt like Emily was part of all of us, like she had been sent down as a blessing for all four of us to cherish.

  And even though I couldn’t legally marry all three of them, it felt like God, the spirits, the universe approved of our little family. Because at the end of the day, that’s what we were.

  A family.

  Three bikers, a baby, a wise old woman, and me.

  And maybe, someday soon, Mr. Olsen, too.

  Not traditional or normal by anyone’s standard, but that was okay. None of us cared much for other people’s standards anyway.

  “What are you thinking about?” Ty asked, leaning in for another kiss before brushing a loose strand of hair from my eyes.

  “She’s got that look,” Jaeger said, nodding at me from across the room as he cradled Emily in his arms. “That dreamy smile that means she’s probably thinking of me.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “You think you know me so well…”

  I could feel Cody’s presence behind me even before his strong arms wrapped around my waist. “We do,” he whispered into my ear before bowing his head and kissing the side of my neck. “We know every part of you.”

  “Including that look,” Ty said. “The one Jaeger pretty much nailed. A beautiful, dreamy smile.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, trying and failing not to smile as I held up my hands in a mock surrender. “I’m clearly going to have to work on my poker face with you guys.”

  I looked around at them all again and could feel that same goofy grin spreading across my face.

  Jaeger was right about that smile—it meant I was thinking about him.

  Or Cody.

  Or Ty.

  And lately, that smile had been because of Emily, too.

  “I was thinking about all of us,” I said, finally confessing. “About how I’m the luckiest woman I know, and how lucky Emily will be to have three fathers who love her more than anything in the world. That smile is because my heart is full.”

  “We love you, Grace,” Ty said, his eyes suspiciously bright with emotion. “You’ve been a gift from God to the three of us.”

  “Sometimes I think back to what our lives were like before we met you,” Cody said. “And I almost can’t even remember, because it feels like… like I never really started living until I started loving you.”

  “That’s because we weren’t living,” Jaeger said. “We were just existing—and we weren’t even doing that very well. I don’t even like to think about where I’d be now or what I’d be doing if we hadn’t met you, Grace. You saved us.”

  I shook my head and dashed at my cheeks as I looked around at all of them—my strong, wonderful men. “No,” I said, finally, my voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t save you. We saved each other. And I’m thankful every day that you’re all in my life. The three of you make everything better.”

  And it was true.

  But not just better.

  They made life worth living.

  They made it complete.

  THE END

  Excerpts From Crave and The Pin-Up Girl

  CRAVE

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  (excerpt)

  Harlow

  I shifted in my pinching heels, as if moving my weight around was somehow going to lessen the pain of wearing them. It didn’t, of course, but it did remind me of how unbearably tight this red sheath dress was.

  “Seriously, Liza, I can’t breathe,” I said, self-consciously smoothing a hand over my stomach as I tried not to make eye contact with any of the other people in line. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  “You look fantastic, though.” She smiled at me. “It’ll be worth it.”

  I wasn’t so sure.

  It felt like everyone in this line was checking me out, sizing me up, and deciding—correctly—that I didn’t belong here.

  This was about as far out of my element as I had ever been. I mean, seriously… a sex club?

  What the hell was I going to do at a sex club?

  I definitely wouldn’t be getting laid. This dress was hard enough to get into. Getting back out of it? In front of strangers?

  Yeah, not happening.

  Liza really wanted to come, though, and I knew she’d been having a hard time lately. At least she could have a little fun, and I could get in a little research.

  Even if the research I usually did for my romance books wasn’t nearly this… thorough.

  Or hands-on.

  Still, if this was what she had her heart set on, I could suck it up—and suck it in—for one night. And it was always possible that I might get some inspiration for my next book, however unlikely that prospect seemed at the moment.

  Maybe I’d feel better about it once we actually got inside.

  But for now, just standing in this horribly long line in heels and a sprayed-on dress was a pain. When the ad for this dress claimed it would “take my breath away,” I didn’t think they meant literally.

  It was definitely a far cry from my usual Friday nights spent writing, snuggled in with a cup of green tea.

  Liza liked to call it boring, but I preferred to think of it as comfortable.

  As in, the opposite of what we were currently doing.

  Liza quirked an eyebrow as she looked me up and down. “You look miserable. I mean, you look really good. But I know you’d rather be at home in your sweatpants right now.”

  I snorted. “No argument there. But no pain, no gain, right? I just didn’t think I’d be on my feet this much at a club.”

  Liza laughed and hooked her arm with mine. “Yeah, screw this… we’re going to the front of this damn line.”

  “What? No!” I hissed, trying to pull away but not wanting to make any more of a spectacle of myself than I already was.

  “Yes, Harlow. I almost never get you to go out with me. And we’re both looking too damn good to waste half the night waiting outside. We’re going in.”

  She dragged me forward before I could even think of a response. And really, she was right. We did look too good for all this waiting around.

  Not to mention that she and I both knew that I’d topple over in these heels if I tried to resist too much.

  There were plenty of grumbles as we began to pass people up. One guy even yelled, “Hey, no cutting!”

  Their collective annoyance made me blush bright red, but Liza either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Judging from the easy smile on her face as she tossed her hair, she wasn’t bothered at all.

  That didn’t surprise me, though. That was Liza.

  She was adventurous, blunt, and didn’t give a single shit about anyone else’s opinion of her.

  I, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. I loved her, but I wanted to hide in a hole when she got like this.

  We reached the front of the line, and Liza worked her magic. She had a way with men and as soon as she nibbled at her lip and smiled at the bouncer, I knew he was wrapped around her finger.

  He grinned back at her. “Name?” he asked.

  “Liza and Harlow,” she said in a tone that could only be described as flirty.

  He jotted our names down and then unhooked the red velvet rope that was chained between two metal poles at the front of the line.

  “Go on in, ladies,” he said. “Have fun.”

  “Oh, we plan on it,” Liza replied, tossing him a wink as we walked inside.

  I could only marvel at her nerve. I was secretly praying we’d get sent to the back of the line, but I should have known that Liza wouldn’t let things like lines or rules or dirty looks from other people slow her down.

  Once we were actually inside, I wasn’t sure if I felt better or worse about the whole situation.

  In some ways, it was like being in any other club—pulsing music and flashing neon lights that didn’t do much to
illuminate the dark corners of the room. But even though it wasn’t as intimidating—or as sexy—as what I had imagined, there was still a certain vibe that made it unlike any other place I’d been before.

  The music was a little too loud.

  The corners a little too dark.

  The large dance floor—complete with a shimmering disco ball—was mostly empty. Instead, there were shadowy forms draped across the black leather couches that lined the room.

  I tilted my head upward to find a balcony and could vaguely see images of half-naked people making out against the walls and lounging on more dark couches, their bodies entangled in one another.

  “So, what do you think?” Eliza had to practically shout to be heard.

  “I think it’s time for me to go home to my computer,” I yelled back.

  “Hell, no! Come on, let’s go see what’s going on upstairs!” She grabbed my arm and began to drag me forward again.

  My heart pounded at the thought of going up there, where people might actually be having sex right in front of me. My anxiety kept me from moving, and just as I expected the first time Liza tried to drag me somewhere tonight, I stumbled a bit in my heels. But I didn’t fall completely, thank God.

  “Maybe we could start with something a little more, um… t-tame?” I fumbled over the words as I tried to keep my balance. “Can we just… go sit at the bar area or something?”

  Liza rolled her eyes. “Harlow, you’re here for research, remember? How are you going to do research if you don’t go check out what this club is actually like? We can go to any club in town and just sit at a bar.”

  That didn’t sound like such a bad thing to me.

  She sighed as I still resisted going upstairs. “Okay, fine. Maybe a drink will loosen you up,” she huffed, changing course to head toward the bar area.

  I didn’t plan on drinking, though. I had every intention of walking up to that bar and ordering myself a nice cold glass of water.

  I wasn’t trying to rain on Liza’s parade. The only reason I was out here at all was to support her and have some fun. But this was just not my scene at all.

  And now that we were actually inside, it was a lot more difficult to fool myself into thinking I’d be able to do any real research. I mean, seriously… the last thing I was thinking of at the moment was my writing.

  We walked over to the bar area, and it was impossible not to notice that every single person we passed seemed to stop what they were doing to watch us walk by. My dress and my shoes felt tighter than ever as those feelings of insecurity I’d had outside in the line returned with full force.

  I collapsed onto one of the couches once we finally reached the bar area. At least sitting down, I could blend in a little easier. Or I liked to imagine I could.

  The black leather felt cold against my bare thighs, and it made a shiver go up my spine when I considered the fact that people might have… y’know…right on this very couch.

  I did my best to focus on other things—anything else, really—as a cheery cocktail waitress walked over to us. She was wearing a button-down white blouse and a black miniskirt that barely covered her ass. I looked down at her black heels and tried to imagine how the hell she could actually work while walking in those things.

  “What can I get for you girls?” she asked, perfectly balancing the tray in her hands.

  “I’ll just have a water with lemon, please,” I told her with a timid smile. I’d pretend it was actually hot tea with lemon, and that instead of sitting on these leather couches, I was curled up in my bed at home.

  Liza scoffed, of course. I knew she would. But I was hoping she’d let it go.

  “No, no, no. We didn’t come to the bar for water,” she said emphatically.

  “Liza, come on…” I mumbled, but she ignored me.

  She smiled up sweetly at the waitress. “Yeah, can we actually get two mojitos instead? Forget the water entirely.”

  The waitress nodded without giving me a second glance. “Perfect, I’ll be right back with that,” she said, before turning around and dropping off drinks to a man and a woman on the next couch over.

  Liza flashed me a look of annoyance.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You seriously thought you were going to get away with a water? Come on, Harlow. Why is it so hard to get you to just come out and enjoy yourself? You act like it might actually be physically painful to have a good time.”

  “It is physically painful,” I argued, pointedly glancing down at my pinched feet. “This just isn’t how I enjoy myself. You know that.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’d rather be home with your books. I get it. But you’re not going to find a man if you’re stuck at home every weekend typing away at your computer.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t realize that finding me a guy was on the agenda tonight. I thought we were here for you.”

  “Well, when was the last time you’ve even been on a date?” she asked.

  I wasn’t even sure how to answer that. It had definitely been… a while.

  “It doesn’t matter because I’ve got no interest in dating right now,” I told her. “I’m busy. I’ve got plenty of work and… and other things to keep myself occupied.”

  “Like reading. Writing. More reading.” The sarcasm in her tone was impossible to miss.

  “Yes, exactly. All of those things. It’s my job. And it really is what I want to do.” I didn’t need to necessarily admit that reading and writing seemed to take up all my free time lately. But even if that wasn’t the case, I didn’t want to bring a man into my life who would take away from my focus.

  “Seriously, Harlow, you’re going to have to live a little. Life is about more than just work.”

  I might have agreed with her, in theory. But right now, my work was my life and I saw no reason to add a man to it. “I’m happy just the way things are,” I told her.

  She looked at me skeptically. “Are you? Or are you just trying to avoid getting hurt again?”

  I shifted uncomfortably on the dark couch. I knew what she was talking about, of course. Things hadn’t gone so well in my last relationship.

  I couldn’t say she was wrong, really. My last relationship had been difficult. Had it turned me off from seeking a new one?

  Yeah, maybe.

  Probably.

  And not only because it failed miserably, but also because… it hadn’t ever really been that great. I was a hard woman to please—that was what my last relationship had taught me.

  Maybe it was the writer in me that made me so difficult to satisfy. I spent most of my days stuck in my head, writing these steamy romance stories with amazing heroines and Prince Charming heroes. No man ever seemed to live up to the characters in my imagination. No man had even come close, really.

  “I’m never going to find a guy I truly like, Liza,” I said, puffing out a short breath. “There’s really no point in debating it—especially not here.”

  “Fine, fine,” she shrugged, pretending not to care even though I knew for sure she could happily go on arguing for hours if I’d let her. “If you want to hole up in your apartment with your books and your imaginary characters, far be it from me to stop you.”

  “Great. Perfect. Glad that’s settled.” My reply was curt. It was a friendly annoyance, though. She knew I loved her, and even though I didn’t love her prying, it was actually nice to have a friend who cared this deeply about me.

  She may have been totally misguided about my life and which direction I wanted it to go, but at least she cared. I needed someone who cared, even if they were going to give me advice that didn’t really align with the things I wanted in life.

  “You know I’m only trying to help,” she said, giving me The Look that showed she was getting ready for round two.

  “I know, I know. And I love you for that. But seriously, keep your nosy ass out of my love life. I’m perfectly content to imagine other peoples’ love lives on paper,” I responded, hoping that answer would be forc
eful enough to shut down this conversation completely.

  “Well, you’re good at that. For someone who wants zero romance in their life, you are great at writing about it.”

  I had to smile at that. I loved when anyone complimented my ability to write. It was the thing that I was most proud of. I doubted a lot of my other life skills, especially the ones that involved socializing.

  Or wearing dresses. Or damned high heels.

  But I never doubted my ability to tell a story. I’d been doing it since I was a young child, and I had become quite good at it.

  Our cocktail waitress came back with the mojitos. She handed me the ice-cold glass garnished with mint.

  “Thank you.” I smiled at her.

  “Of course. Let me know if you ladies need anything else.”

  Liza grinned at me, holding her glass up. “Here’s to finally getting you to go out with me! And to research, of course.”

  “Right. Cheers.” I clinked my glass against hers and sighed.

  I was glad she was happy… but it was going to go be a long night.

  THE PIN-UP GIRL

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  (excerpt)

  I held a sleek glass of scotch, neat, as I always preferred to drink it. The refreshing amber liquid seared through my veins, consuming me with a relaxing, wavy sensation.

  As an Air Force military pilot, I didn’t endorse heavy drinking, but all bets were off when I was on vacation with my friends.

  I gripped the iron railing of our hotel room’s balcony, glancing out at the little courtyard beside the parking lot. We had a meager view of the ocean, but it was still there, nonetheless. A tiny slice of aqua blue sea was glistening just off in the distance.

  A couple wheeling a stroller with a snack-toting toddler walked through the courtyard, and a dog owner threw a yellow Frisbee to his enthusiastic golden retriever. For the moment, life was good.

  “What are you doing out here, man?” Caleb approached me from behind, smacking my shoulder.