Love Under Two Bad Boys

by Cara Covington

  “Yeah, why don’t we do just that?”

  They sat close, wrapped in each other’s arms. Marc Jessop knew down to his soul that now that he’d found Jeremy Bishop he wasn’t going to willingly let go of him.

  Not for anything.

  Chapter One

  Early August 2018 Lusty, Texas

  April Bixby didn’t know what kept bringing her back to Lusty, Texas. Her obligation to her late client, Amanda Featherstone, had been met. For the first couple of weeks after the culmination of that months-long case, and following the arrest of that little turd, Douglas Vance, April had been on hand to serve as a liaison between Jenny Collins—soon to be Jenny Benedict—and April’s late client’s lawyer, Rodney Mathers. And, since she had been hanging around, she’d offered to continue to fill in at Angel’s Roadhouse when she was needed. She’d explained to Angela Monroe Stone, owner of the roadhouse, that while she’d taken the job under false pretenses, she felt guilty about leaving the woman short one waitress. Angela had been delighted to keep her on, the Town Trust had been delighted to allow her to continue to lease this very nice apartment, and she, apparently, was delighted to stay. That helped with the guilt thing, so maybe that was the sole reason she was sticking around Lusty.

  My being here has nothing at all to do with those two drool-worthy men I’ve been spending time with. Right.

  April had felt guilty and, in fact, did feel guilty whenever she took a false name and went undercover in the course of doing her job. Though necessary, that part of being a private investigator had never been a comfortable fit for her. She’d been picky about the kinds of cases she’d taken on, preferring the righteous over the salacious. Not that there was anything wrong with a man or woman hiring an investigator to discover if their spouse was cheating on them. She believed, wholeheartedly, in fidelity in relationships, especially in a marriage. If a person’s faith in their life partner had been shaken, they had a right to react to that however their natures dictated.

  She just didn’t want to be the person peering through a camera lens at a couple in flagrante delicto of somebody’s marriage vows.

  Maybe that’s why you always take those stupid pseudonyms. April blinked. Her inner voice had been quiet for the last few months, although she didn’t know why. And then those words that had just whispered through her mind hit home. Huh. Maybe that was why she always did that. Maybe the part of her that didn’t suffer fools gladly figured if people were gullible enough to accept her as being the person she presented herself to be—be it Penny Lane or Nancy Drew or Grace Kelly or even, one memorable time, Amelia Earhart, then any guilt she might feel for lying about who she was could be assuaged. They’d get what they deserved for not twigging on to the truth—for being so stupid as to not know I was using a fake name.

  April shrugged. She wasn’t usually one to analyze. At least, she wasn’t one to analyze herself and certainly not in such an unkind way.

  But she often did analyze others. She figured psychology had become like a minor hobby, though she did attempt to limit that activity to trying to understand the people and situations that were germane to whatever case she was working on at the moment.

  Income-wise, April could afford to stick around this interesting town with such a suggestive name for as long as she wanted. She’d had no idea that Mrs. Featherstone had, prior to her death, set aside a completion bonus to be paid to her upon the successful discovery of that good woman’s granddaughter.

  By April’s calculations, based on the simplest of savings account interest rates currently available, she could afford to not be a PI for at least the next couple of decades.

  Of course, she wouldn’t take that long of a break. She planned to talk to Jake Kendall about investing three-quarters of her windfall for the future. The rest…well, she’d decide what to do with that in time. And she’d look for her next case—by and by.

  A knock at her apartment door pulled her out of her mental ramblings. A quick look at the time on her cell phone assured her she’d only been ruminating for a few minutes, and not the hour or so it had felt like.

  April checked the security viewer in the door then grinned. Right on time. She stepped back, unlocked, and then opened the door to her visitors.

  “Hey there, Nancy Drew, are you ready to investigate the possibilities with us?” Marc Jessop’s first words had April yearning for a fast comeback.

  “And by possibilities, of course, he means helping us in picking out our décor at this alleged warehouse space the family owns.” Jeremy’s delivery was just this side of droll.

  “Well, now, Mr. Jessop, Mr. Bishop, as soon as y’all get a clue you can spare, I’ll be happy to investigate with you.” She grinned, and Marc just shook his head.

  Jeremy sighed. “I don’t think that was either of your best efforts, the two of you. Should we have coffee before we head out? That might help stimulate your creative faculties.” Jeremy treated her to a raised eyebrow appraisal. The fact that he made such a good straight man was a joke of the cosmos that was not lost on any of them.

  “I’m good. Let’s plan on coffee after—at Lusty Appetites.” April’s rinsed coffee mug sat in the dish drainer, a mute witness that she’d finished her morning cup.

  “I don’t know that we’ll have time,” Marc said. “I know how the family does these things. I think we’re going to be kept busy most of the day.” Marc met her gaze and gave her a wink. A wink that Jeremy couldn’t see because Marc had entered her apartment first and Jeremy was still at his right shoulder, filling the doorframe. “But, since you’re going to help us, why don’t we treat you to supper at Kelsey’s restaurant, at, oh, I don’t know, say sevenish tonight?”

  April caught sight of Jeremy’s expression as she looked at Marc. He seemed interested, as in the three of them. Jeremy may be in serious need of that clue I mentioned. In the next instant, she understood what Marc had just said.

  She knew he had been telling Jeremy that they were cool, the two of them together here in Lusty, and that no one was going to give them a hard time because of their sexual preferences. Both men were bi-sexual and were also currently lovers. Just imagining the two of them together turned April on, fiercely.

  Marc knows the only way Jeremy is going to get it is if he’s shown. She knew that was why they were only now moving into their own place. They’d spent the last few weeks with Adam, James, and Pamela Jessop—Marc’s parents. April thought that Marc had wanted to share his parents, especially his fathers, with his lover. She’d also witnessed Pamela Jessop treating Jeremy just like another son.

  Jeremy, apparently, needed more. And since April had plenty of clues, she had a pretty good idea what would be waiting for them at Lusty Appetites tonight at, oh, say, sevenish.

  “Supper at Kelsey’s restaurant sounds good,” she said. “Hey, do you think there might be a coffee pot in that warehouse? A Keurig?”

  “I’ve been assured there is.” Marc looked at Jeremy who was shaking his head. “You have to have faith, love,” Marc said to him.

  “I believe in you…and in Nancy, here. And my sister, most of the time. That’s lots of faith.”

  “Aw, Jeremy. I’m touched.” April grinned at him.

  “Just slightly, but I like you anyway.”

  April laughed. Jeremy Bishop didn’t share his keen sense of humor with them all that often—which was why he generally fell into the role of straight man. But she’d had plenty of evidence that he possessed one. She hoped to see more of it in the future.

  “All right, then. I’ll grab a few coffee pods, and we can be on our way.” She also took a moment to put some sugar and powdered coffee whitener into little baggies and brought those along, too.

  April had never acquired a taste for black coffee.

  “And if there isn’t everything under the sun at this magical warehouse that we can use, then we’ll head into Waco and buy everything new.” Jeremy nodded. “We can both afford to furnish our own house.”

  You’d t
hink that Jeremy was from Missouri instead of Indiana. Since Marc was just smiling, she decided not to be offended, either. She understood and guessed that Marc did, too, that it wasn’t a case of Jeremy not believing his lover. She would be very surprised if Marc had ever given him cause to doubt his word.

  What Jeremy had a hard time trusting was anyone, or anything else. Except her, apparently. April could certainly understand Jeremy’s reticence in this case. Marc hadn’t, by his own admission, been to Lusty in more than a decade.

  Ten years is a long time, and things can change.

  April locked the door behind her and headed for the parking lot and her BMW Cabriolet. Marc’s Tesla Roadster and Jeremy’s Harley Davidson motorcycle were both likely still parked in Marc’s parents’ garage at the moment.

  The men walked anywhere they wanted to go around town generally. When it was the three of them going out together she either met them there or they went in her four-seater convertible.

  None of us has a family-friendly vehicle.

  April shoved that inappropriate thought right into the dustiest corner in the attic of her mind. She covered the damn thing with an old rug, just to make certain it was out of sight. She was not going to think about Marc and Jeremy and family friendly anything.

  Marc got right into the back seat, leaving the shotgun position for Jeremy. The day was sunny and hot, but April lowered the top and donned her ball cap and sunglasses rather than keep that top in place and crank up the A/C.

  Marc tended to be a little claustrophobic when the top was locked down in place if he wasn’t driving. She’d been about to offer him the keys, but was happy to drive. She adjusted her mirror and gave her guys a quick look. No doubt about it, her car was small.

  She hoped in time Marc would be able to tell her why he tensed under certain circumstances. She turned toward Jeremy and offered him a grin. They were off on an adventure together, the three of them, even if it was just to have a gander at a warehouse chock-full of “stuff.”

  I’m one up on the two of them because I have heard of this place. She recalled how Jenny related the story of Parker and Dale moving with her into their never-before-seen house on an otherwise peaceful Saturday afternoon. Three hours start to finish and the parade of family helping had been, in Jenny’s words, endless.

  “Which way, Mr. Jessop?” She met his gaze in the rearview mirror. She’d heard about the place but had no idea where it was.

  “Do you know where the airfield is and how to get there?”

  “I do.” She passed it every time she headed to Angel’s Roadhouse.

  “Take a left instead of a right at the stop sign, and you’ll see it in under two minutes, or so I’ve been told.”

  It didn’t take long to get to where they were going. There was no signage, no indication that they were in the right place—except of course for the number of pickup trucks in the parking lot and the number of Jessop, Benedict, and Kendall cousins hanging around, coffee cups in hand, watching them approach.

  “I wonder what’s happening?” Jeremy asked.

  April pulled her car into a parking space that didn’t have two big pickup trucks abutting it.

  Marc snorted. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

  Jeremy opened the door, got out, and then held the front seat so that Marc could escape the small vehicle.

  “I thought it was a reasonable question, Marc.”

  April grinned when she saw Ari Benedict make a beeline toward her stepbrother.

  “There you are! Wait until you see this place! I love any chance I get to go through it. They get new stuff in all the time!”

  April guessed she couldn’t blame Marc for feeling a little smug. She wasn’t privy to all that had happened to Jeremy, either. But whatever it was—just like Marc’s claustrophobia—it would be worked out, or it wouldn’t. The way she saw it, stuff happened to everyone—things they would either get over, or not.

  Either way, she planned on making sure she was close by to help in any way she could if those specters from the past began to rise up and attack her guys.

  Her latest thought echoed in her mind. Huh. So much for my self-assurances that these two men weren’t the reason I’m sticking around Lusty, Texas.

  She knew in her heart they really were, and she guessed she’d just have to get used to that idea. It didn’t look like something she was going to get over anytime soon—if ever.

  She and Marc followed behind Jeremy and Ari, who’d wrapped her arm around Jeremy’s and was determined to lead the way.

  “I think you should look at the beds, first. There are all different styles, frame and support wise. There are also a lot of newly manufactured mattresses still in stretch-wrap. And, of course, lots of sheets and duvets are in stock, too, for every size.”

  “What, no pillows?” Jeremy’s question floated back on the air to them.

  Marc chuckled softly. He reached down and picked up April’s hand. Then he met her gaze. “Any objections, Nancy Drew?”

  “Not as long as I get to hold Jeremy’s hand, too.” She tilted her head slightly.

  He grinned at her. “That was actually the plan. But Ari kind of intercepted that play.”

  They wended their way through a warehouse that could have belonged to any of the big box store companies.

  “It’s a lot larger than the barn used to be,” Marc said. “That was the first version of this, just before I left.” His words were quiet, just for her. They finally caught up with Jeremy because that man had simply stopped walking and was, instead, staring at the few bedframes on display. Three of them were set up—one a king size and then two other sizes that had specialized names.

  Ari was on Jeremy’s right. Cord joined them, slipped his arm around his wife, and distracted her by kissing her.

  Jeremy looked at Marc and then April. His gaze wandered down to their joined hands. His smile, slow and sweet, eased April’s worry. Jeremy took her right hand in his.

  “Red, you get a ten yard penalty for interference,” Cord said.

  “What? What did I…oh.” Ari sent April an apologetic look. April smiled and shrugged in response.

  Some of the cousins close by chuckled. April hadn’t realized others were paying attention or that they had any idea what was going on. April suddenly got a huge clue herself, and she managed to do something she hadn’t done in a long time.

  She blushed.

  “All right, lover, I’m convinced,” Jeremy said. “So, Penny Lane, which bed frame strikes your fancy?”

  “You want my opinion on which bed you should get for your bedroom?” She might have a clue, but she needed to verify that little sucker.

  Two pairs of eyes looked at her with almost identical levels of lust. They edged subtly closer, and Jeremey said, “Yes, we very much do. Unless, of course, you don’t want to have an opinion.”

  That’s good enough for me, in the midst of this listening-too-close crowd. “Why don’t we start out as we mean to go and pick it together?”

  “I like that word, ‘together,’” Jeremy said.

  “April?” Marc waited until she looked at him. Cousins moved back, a little, and gave them some space—sort of. “Just so you know, Jessop-sized beds come in two size classifications—for three adults and for four. We’re getting the former. We won’t ever need the larger size.”

  She looked from Marc to Jeremy. She understood fully, right then and there, that this was something the men had discussed and agreed upon and had had every intention of saying to her once they got here. Clearly, they didn’t worry about the fact that there were a lot of people potentially within earshot.

  I guess I was never really fooling anyone, not even myself. Would they be able to give her equal time, when the two of them had been together already for several years? That was an issue they’d need to discuss. Looking at them now, she was pretty certain their answer when she asked them would be “yes”. That’s something for us to discuss when we’re alone. For this moment she turne
d her attention back to Marc’s statement. “That’s very good to know. And just so you know, I think three—when it’s us three—is the perfect number.”

  Marc nodded. His thumb brushed the back of her hand, a tiny little massage of tenderness. “We couldn’t agree more.”

  Chapter Two

  Lusty sure as hell had grown since he’d been here last.

  Marc Jessop stood inside a restaurant that hadn’t been here ten years ago, looking out at a lot of people who hadn’t been here ten years ago. Those people were clapping and smiling and welcoming him—to a home that hadn’t, damn it, stayed exactly as it had been, waiting for him to return.

  That’s a silly thought for a man who adamantly denies he has silly thoughts. Marc set aside his unusual mental meanderings.

  He waited beside his lover, Jeremy Bishop, standing close, watching as the man took in his surroundings. Though the location and some of the people were new to him, the sentiment certainly wasn’t, and that was the most important thing. The heart of Lusty hadn’t changed. And the heart of Lusty had opened itself to them.

  They’d just stepped into Lusty Appetites to rousing cheers and applause. On Jeremy’s other side stood April Bixby—woman about town, private investigator, and assumer of lame aliases. And, he and Jeremy both hoped, their soon-to-be-lover and the third member of their triad.

  April’s responses to the both of them—him and Jeremy—had been more than encouraging over the last few weeks. But it hadn’t been until that very morning, as they’d been standing inside that warehouse, that they’d known for certain she was as attracted to them as they were to her.

  It wasn’t all just sexual attraction, either. They hadn’t let her look at their deepest, darkest secrets yet, but he knew she sensed they had them. Her willingness to wait—and the way she was watching Jeremy right now—told him where her heart lay.

  “If I’d ever called myself Mary Poppins, I might, in this circumstance and in this very good British accent say, ‘close your mouth Jeremy, we are not a fish.’ But I haven’t, so I won’t.”