Double or Nothing: A Menage Romance (Double the Fun Book 3)

by Marie Carnay

  “Right. Like either of you actually care about me. I should have listened to Bree.”

  She smacked her lips together, thinking. At last, the words came out. “For all I know you could be s-s-serial killers or s-s-super villains or something. You’re probably just working your way through the alphabet of women.” She reached out and poked Trenton in the chest. “W is very far down the list, you know.”

  As she pulled back, she wobbled and leaned hard to the right. Hank propped her up. “Whoever Bree is, she’s wrong. We’re not interested in a fling, Willa.”

  She frowned as she swayed in place. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s the truth. Come on, let’s go.” Hank steered her out of the bathroom and down the hall. As they left the club behind them, Trenton slipped his arm beneath Willa’s on the other side.

  The pair of brothers escorted her through the casino, turning more than a few heads. Hank paid the onlookers no mind. Let them gawk. Willa needed them even if she wouldn’t admit it. He’d been right to be hard on himself. The woman deserved so much more than they’d given her so far.

  They came to a stop in front of the elevators, Willa stumbling and pulling against their arms. “I’m not a runaway child, let me go.”

  “You’re tipsy.”

  “I don’t need taking care of.”

  The elevator opened and Hank did as she asked. She wobbled into the waiting car before spinning around. “See?”

  Thank God Trenton caught her before she fell down. Hank shook his head and hit the button for the penthouse. “Let’s just get you off your feet, okay?”

  She nodded and let them lead her to their place. Trenton escorted her inside while Hank prepared the guest bed and pulled back the covers. He eased her shoes off while Trenton helped her up onto the mattress.

  She sighed as she snuggled down into the fluffy white bedding. “Bree was right.”

  Hank leaned closer so he could hear. “About what?”

  “Falling in love with two brothers is a terrible idea.”

  He glanced up at Trenton. It had to be the booze talking. But what if it wasn’t? He asked again. “You’ve fallen in love?”

  “Like Jennifer Lawrence at the Oscars.” Willa hugged the down pillow to her chest. “Mmm. These are soft. I s-s-should tip the housekeeper.” She snuggled even further down into the bed and before Hank could say another word, soft sounds of snoring wafted up from the covers.

  She’d passed out.

  He stood up and met his brother’s stare. “Did you catch that?”

  “Every word.”

  They walked out of the guest bedroom and into the kitchen. Hank poured them both a scotch. “You think she meant it?”

  “Alcohol has a way of bringing out the truth.”

  Hank drained his glass and refilled it before walking over to the wall of windows. Vegas glittered and shimmered below them, a million different colors lighting up the night. “She’s not the only one falling.”

  Trenton joined him at the window. “No, she’s not.”

  Where Hank had inherited their father’s wide shoulders and barrel chest, Trenton took after their mother’s side of the family, all lean muscle and effortless grace. He would have made an excellent spy.

  “We have to tell her who we are, Trenton. Lay our cards on the table.”

  “I thought you hated gambling.”

  Hank smiled, but not with humor. It was true, what his brother said. Their family might be casino royalty, but Hank had never had a taste for the game. It brought as much misery as it brought happiness.

  It was why he focused on the hotel operations and the restaurants and left the gaming to his brother.

  “This time, I don’t have a choice.”

  Trenton nodded. “What if she won’t admit it when she’s sober?”

  “Then we have to work harder. Put all our money on the table.”

  Trenton raised his glass. “Double or nothing?”

  Hank clinked his glass against his brother’s. “We’ll call it in the morning.”

  Chapter 14

  WILLA

  She didn’t know what woke her up first, the splitting headache or the taste of stale tequila that hadn’t stayed put in her stomach. Ugh. Willa rolled over and reached for her phone.

  Pat, pat, pat. Where is it? Her eyelids might as well have been glued shut. She pried one open enough to squint. That’s not my nightstand.

  She rubbed at her face and sat up. These definitely aren’t my hotel sheets. Oh my God. The room she’d woken up in was a million and one times nicer than her hotel room. The bed stretched on for days, the chandelier above her head shimmered in the morning light, and the dark wood furniture screamed shipped-from-Paris.

  I’m not in a weekday-rate-special anymore. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and winced. Damn, what a hangover. Her temples throbbed, her stomach heaved, and Willa had the distinct impression she’d thrown up all over someone the night before.

  Oh, no. Her hand flew to her mouth as the memories flooded back in. The woman at the bar. Tequila. Dancing… The vomit incident.

  She grabbed a pillow and smothered her face with it as she let out a scream. Hank and Trenton and the bouncer from hell. She didn’t remember much after that, but they must have taken her home.

  She was sitting in their place, gross and dirty and smelling like bad decisions. She screamed even louder into the fluffy down.

  Maybe if I just sit here long enough I’ll wake up back in my room and it will all be a bad dream. Please.

  With her eyes shut tight, Willa counted to ten before putting the pillow down. Shit. I’m still here.

  All she could think about was her big mouth and all the terrible things that could have come out of it. She had a tendency to ramble on when she drank, the unvarnished truth spilling out of her like water through a broken dam. Willa rubbed her head.

  The damage, whatever it may be, was done. She only wished she remembered what she’d said. With a deep breath, she stood up and made her way into the bathroom. Enormous didn’t do it justice. The counter went on for days, the gray veins in the marble stretching out like fingers for the sink in the middle.

  A walk-in shower stood behind her and a soaking tub sat on it’s own in front of a window. Wow. She’d never been in a nicer bathroom. She glanced up at the mirror and stumbled back a step.

  Oh, God. Her mascara streaked down her face in a crusty mess, her hair stood up in a million directions and a giant stain snaked down the front of her shirt. She pulled it up to sniff it and recoiled.

  How had they not left her in the club?

  She stripped out of her clothes and rushed into the shower. Before she faced either Beauchamp, she needed to clean herself up and clear her head.

  TRENTON

  Willa’s slurred confession from the night before played in an endless loop in his mind. She’d fallen in love with him and his brother. Trenton swirled the last gulp of coffee around in his cup before downing it.

  Love.

  The word sat heavy in the air between him and Hank like an enormous elephant wrapped in a bow, crushing the granite counter. He shoved off the stool and stalked to the coffee pot. They needed to hash it all out before Willa woke up.

  “What if she doesn’t remember?” He asked the question without turning around. Better not to see his brother’s face when he raised the specter of doubt.

  “What if she does?”

  Hank had a point. Trenton blew on the surface of his coffee before turning to face his brother. They’d promised to tell her everything; who they were, what they did, all they owned. Only Trenton had a secret not even Hank knew.

  If his brother found out he’d been the one to buy her jewelry collection, and done it covertly no less, it wouldn’t be only Willa’s feelings Trenton had to contend with. Hank would be furious.

  Trenton still thought it had been the right move. If Willa had been trapped at the trade show these past few days, they’d never have gotten to know eac
h other so well. Most of that time was spent horizontal, sure, but they’d learned so much about each other.

  He already knew how to make her laugh and smile and moan out his name. One swipe of his tongue across her nipple sent a shiver right through her. Willa liked sex rough and soft and every way in between. And she accepted them in the bedroom, no questions asked.

  She would have to accept his gesture. It came from the heart.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin your day.”

  Trenton spun around to find Willa standing on the edge of the kitchen, the fluffy guest robe wrapped snug around her glowing skin. Her hair hung down, wet and freshly combed and her face was make-up free and gorgeous.

  “You’re beautiful this morning.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t lie just to make me feel better.”

  “He wouldn’t. But beautiful is an understatement.” Hank stepped up to her and planted a kiss on her temple. “I like seeing you this way.”

  She pressed her lips together before scanning the counter. “Is that coffee I smell?”

  Trenton smiled before filling her a mug. “How did you sleep?”

  “Like the dead.” Willa took the steaming cup and inhaled a whiff of steam. “I’m sorry I caused such a commotion last night.”

  “It wasn’t so bad. Although I wouldn’t want to be the guy you threw up all over.”

  Willa winced. “Did I really? Everything is so jumbled up in my head. I remember the tequila and the dancing but after that…” She trailed off. “I don’t even remember how I got here.”

  Trenton stared at her. She didn’t remember telling them she loved them. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

  “So all that talk about the housekeeper and the sheets, you don’t remember that?”

  Her cheeks colored before she could hide them with her mug. “No. Oh my God, what did I say? I didn’t embarrass myself, did I?”

  Hank shook his head. “No. You just went on and on that she deserved a raise for upgrading your bedding.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “Drunk Willa likes a soft bed.”

  She smiled over the edge of her cup. “Sober Willa, too. That bed is fantastic.”

  Trenton exhaled. That confirmed it. If she’d remembered any of the conversation, she couldn’t have played it off. Was it even true, he wondered. Did she really love them both?

  “How did you know where I was?” Willa’s question snapped him back to the present and he glanced at his brother.

  Now or never.

  Hank read his mind. “Security called us. When we didn’t hear from you, Trenton and I began to worry. We asked security to keep an eye on you and call us if anything came up.”

  Willa’s eyebrows knitted. “I don’t understand. Why would the casino’s security do that for you?”

  Trenton waited until she looked him in the eye. “Because we are their bosses.”

  “You’re head of security?” Her gaze ping-ponged between the two of them. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  Hank set down his own mug and stepped forward. He caught her free hand in his. “Remember the museum and what I told you about our family?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, we don’t just work in casinos. We own them. Avira is one of ours.”

  WILLA

  If the pounding in her head hadn’t been so excruciating, Willa would have been convinced she was dreaming. They owned the casino? Impossible.

  “You mean you’re the managers of the place, right? Or you run the day-to-day operations, something like that?”

  Hank squeezed her hand. “No. It’s like I said before, the Beauchamp family has had an interest in casinos in Vegas since the forties. First downtown on Fremont Street, then on the Strip. Now we’re in control of one of the biggest casino empires in the country.”

  Willa thought back to their first meeting. The gray wingtips. The freshly-pressed suit. His knowledge of fine jewelry. She’d known, at least on some level, that they were wealthy. But outright owning a casino?

  She sipped her coffee before responding. “I thought only fat cat billionaires owned casinos.”

  Hank glanced at his brother before turning back to her with a shrug. “I wouldn’t call either one of us fat, personally.”

  Her eyebrows peaked. “You’re joking.”

  “About being fat?” Trenton gave himself the once over. “Most definitely.”

  If she’d had something in her hand other than a porcelain mug, she’d have thrown it at his head. “You know what I mean.”

  He walked over, the brown of his eyes warm and full of depth. “We never joke about money. It’s a Beauchamp thing.”

  Wow. She’d met a few high-level executives when she’d pitched her jewelry lines to a national department store, but a billionaire? Not even close. Turns out she’d been shacking up with a pair of them for the better part of a week.

  Willa snickered behind her coffee cup.

  “Something funny?”

  “That saying really is true: even billionaires put their pants on one leg at a time.”

  Hank set his cup down and walked over to join his brother. “Promise you won’t tell anyone? We wouldn’t want the secret to get out.”

  “What, that you’re billionaires?”

  “No, that we’re human.” Hank reached for her mug with a gleam in his eyes. “And right now, I’d love to show you just how much.”

  Willa bit her lower lip, working it back and forth. Falling into bed with them would be so easy. But before she did, Willa needed to know the truth.

  She’d gathered they were wealthy. But billionaires? How did she know it wasn’t all just a game to them? A week-long fling they could forget about as soon as ordinary, average Willa with a one-bedroom apartment in a transitional part of town went home?

  Memories of the woman she’d met at the bar filled her head along with all the nasty things she’d said. “You could have a different girl here every night. Models, actresses. Why me?”

  Trenton reached out and tucked a still-wet clump of her hair behind her ear. She resisted the temptation to lean into his fingers. “We’re tired of throwaway relationships, Willa. We want the real thing.”

  Hank interrupted. “We want a woman who sees us for who we are and not our bank account.”

  She thought about the brunette waving her empty right hand around and how she only wanted to sleep with them for money. It made sense. She wanted to believe them. “Is that why you didn’t tell me you own the casino?”

  “Yes.”

  “You should have been honest with me from the start. I don’t like being lied to.” She thought about Mark and all his secrets. How he’d presented one face to her while they were dating, but as soon as she moved in, he changed. Gone was the fun guy who’d go out with her friends and drink wine instead of beer. In his place was a jerk who cared more about what his girlfriend wore and how she styled her hair than her feelings.

  Before she’d moved in with him, he’d told her how much he loved her jewelry. Six months later, it was a hobby she needed to quit so she could get a real job. He didn’t care about her, he cared about his image.

  “Would it have changed your impression of us?”

  The question startled her back into the present. “What do you mean?”

  “Would you be standing here, right now, in our apartment if you’d known from the beginning who we were?”

  Willa stared at Hank, a confluence of emotions and thoughts warring in her head. Part of her wanted to say, absolutely, she’d never judge them because they were successful. But part of her knew it was a lie.

  If he’d told her from the beginning they owned Avira and paraded her around, waving at all the gold and crystal, employees and gamblers, she’d have run so fast her heels would have sounded like gunshots on the marble.

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Then I’m glad you didn’t know. I hated keeping it from you, Willa, but I wanted you to get to know me. To get to know both of us
as Hank and Trenton and not the billionaire jerks people assume we must be.”

  Willa nodded. When he put it like that, it made sense.

  Trenton caught her attention with a grin. “Now that you know, how about we do something crazy?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, it’s expensive.”

  “Obscenely. But don’t worry, it’ll be fun.”

  Chapter 15

  TRENTON

  “You really don’t have to do this.” Willa’s protest barely carried through the dressing room door.

  “Of course we don’t have to. We want to.” Trenton sat back on the curved banquette, sipping his champagne and thoroughly enjoying himself. It was nice to spoil a woman. Especially one who didn’t ask for anything.

  His brother sat next to him, legs splayed open, forearms resting on his thighs, a scowl on his face.

  Trenton leaned toward him. “Relax. You know what they say, make a nasty face long enough, it might freeze that way.”

  Hank snorted. “You don’t think this is a little over the top?”

  “No. It’s way, way over the top. Think the Stratosphere. I always liked the view from up there.”

  Trenton couldn’t hide it; he enjoyed getting under his older brother’s skin once in a while. When they were kids, he’d go out of his way to egg him on just so they could fight. Hank had one hell of a left hook.

  He rubbed his jaw as he thought about one particular fight over a girl when they were teenagers. Had he known then what sharing a woman could do both for their relationship and his sex life, he’d have found other ways to goad Hank.

  “Could I have another?” Trenton held up his empty glass and the attendant hurried over. A pixie of a thing, she couldn’t have been more than nineteen. He smiled at her. “Dress shopping makes you thirsty.”

  “Knock it off.”

  Trenton smiled and ignored Hank to sip the champagne, bubbles cascading down his throat as his brother glared at him. The stare would have made an employee piss his pants, but Trenton only laughed. “Come on. Live a little. This is good for all of us.”