Double Dare: A Menage Romance

by Marie Carnay

  Bronx shook his head. “No. In a way I’m glad you waited. I don’t think I would have been ready to listen had I read them when she died.” He stepped back and let Beckett inside before shutting the door behind him.

  Beckett made his way to the living room and dumped his bag on the floor. He hadn’t shaved in days and his overgrown hair was sticking up in all directions.

  “You look like shit.”

  Becket laughed. “Yeah, you’re not looking so hot, either.”

  Bronx glanced down and his rumpled dress shirt and wrinkled pants. “You have a point.” He walked into the living room and sat down in a wingback chair. “So why are you here?”

  His brother sat down opposite him. “For starters, to apologize. I’m sorry I’ve fucked everything up for so long, Bronx. I should have been open with you from the beginning about my plans for Sarabelle and involved you in the process. It wasn’t fair to rely on your skill in investments and not include you.”

  Bronx rested his forearms on his knees. “Thank you.”

  “I should have been a better big brother, not always off on my own, being a hermit.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for that, Beckett—”

  “Let me finish.” Beckett paused and ran a hand through his hair. “I know Mom and Dad meant well dividing up the estate, but I think it’s caused problems they never intended. I don’t want to keep things separate anymore.”

  Bronx exhaled. He thought about his mother’s letters and all that their parents had done for them. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I want you to be an active participant in whatever we do with Sarabelle. If you want to develop it and turn it into a resort, fine. If that gets us working together instead of apart, I’ll do it.”

  “What about the studio?”

  A cloud crossed Beckett’s face, but he smiled it away. “I can make do without it.”

  Wow. Bronx never thought he’d see the day where his brother was willing to sacrifice even an inch for him. Now he was willing to give everything up. It wasn’t fair. “I don’t want you to give up the school, Beckett.”

  “Then we can figure out a way to do both. A development on one end and a school on the other.”

  “No. You were right all along. Sarabelle shouldn’t be developed. It should stay private. A little oasis for our family that’s just ours.” He smiled at his brother. “All this time I’ve been trying to hold onto the memories of our parents the only way I knew how—through money. If I grew the estate, if I increased our holdings, then I was honoring their legacy.”

  Bronx paused. He hadn’t put it all together until that moment. “I resented you for your ability to put it all behind you. To run off to Sarabelle and have your own life while I toiled in the city.”

  “I’m sorry, Bronx. I should have tried harder.”

  He waved his brother off. “I don’t blame you and I don’t want to ruin Sarabelle for the sake of development, either.”

  “So no school?”

  “Do you really want to invite strangers there and lose the privacy you love so much?”

  Beckett frowned. “I’ve never thought of it that way.” He hunched over, fingers laced together and arms resting on his knees as he thought it over.

  Bronx had been thinking, too. While reading his mother’s letters and talking to Beckett, he’d come up with an idea. One that would get them everything they wanted and then some. He leaned forward. “I’ve got an idea. But you’ll have to keep an open mind. Can you do that?”

  “At this point, I can do anything.”

  “Good. Because this is big. Really big.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  CHELSEA

  “I thought we’d specified the antiqued silver for the dessert spoons?”

  Chelsea sighed. “This is the antiqued silver, Mrs. Harrington. I ordered it specifically from the Italian supplier just for you.”

  The client turned the spoon over with a frown. “It seems dull.”

  Just like my life. “If you’d like us to swap it out for standard chrome, I’m sure the hotel has plenty in stock.”

  “Oh, heavens no. I guess if this is all we have, it will have to do.”

  Chelsea faked a smile as the woman walked away. God, how had she thought this would be enough out of life? Now that she’d had a taste of Sarabelle and Beckett and Bronx and the thrill of it all, regular life didn’t have the same shine.

  The Kingston brothers had ruined everything.

  “Excuse me, are you Chelsea Miller?”

  She glanced up and tried to erase the frown. The woman standing in front of her seemed vaguely familiar, but Chelsea couldn’t place her. She met so many people in her job. “Yes. Can I help you?”

  “I’m Jess Woodson.” She held out her hand.

  Chelsea shook it and tried to place her. “I’m sorry, this is terrible of me, but how do I know you?”

  Jess laughed. “You don’t, not really. But, oh hell. I’m terrible at these things.” She leaned closer. “Is it okay to get sloshed at a women’s tea? If I don’t get a drink soon I might just sneak out the back.”

  Chelsea laughed. “It’s totally okay. Just don’t spill any on Ms. Harrington’s shoes. I think they cost more than most cars.”

  “Good to know. If you’re not too busy, I thought you might want to chat. I’m Gage and Holt’s fiancée, you know, the MacIntosh brothers?”

  Oh my God. Now it all made sense. She’d met her at the MacIntosh Fund event. Jess had seen the whole bidding debacle go down. Damn. She probably thought they had something in common now.

  Too bad, Chelsea liked her. “I’d love to, but maybe another time. I’m kind of busy.”

  Jess’s brow knitted. “Aren’t you dating Bronx and Beckett?”

  Chelsea focused on the party. “Not anymore.”

  “Oh.” Jess scratched her head. “Really? That’s not what…”

  She trailed off and Chelsea glanced at her again. “Is something going on?”

  “Um, no. I must be mistaken.” Jess smiled at her, but Chelsea could see she was still confused. “If you ever want to talk, just call the MacIntosh Hotel. I’m staying there while I’m in New York.”

  Chelsea nodded, but couldn’t shake the feeling something was going on. “Thanks.” She watched the only other woman in New York who could relate to her love life walk away with a frown on her face.

  Former love life. She needed to remember that.

  Three hours later, Chelsea nursed a vodka tonic at the hotel bar. It had been a typical luncheon for charity. A gaggle of ladies who lunched in the city and who wrote checks for charity like Chelsea wrote checks for rent.

  A few weeks ago, and it would have been fine. Fun, even. Now the whole thing just depressed her. She took another sip and tried to forget the way Beckett’s hands felt on her skin and the way Bronx’s lips melted into hers.

  The vodka didn’t help. She pushed the drink away.

  “Not to your liking? I’m sure the bartender would make another.”

  Chelsea turned. “Bronx. What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for your event to finish. Those women sure know how to drag out a lunch.”

  “Hello, Chelsea.”

  She spun around on the barstool. “Beckett?” Oh no. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, originally we’d planned on interrupting your event and telling the whole room how in love with you we are.”

  Chelsea paled. “But?”

  “But we figured it would go straight over their heads. And besides, we’re not here to cause a scene.”

  “You’re not?”

  Beckett shook his head. “No. We’re here to apologize.”

  Chelsea swallowed. They didn’t have anything to apologize for. She’s the one who should be apologizing. She never should have led them on. “I don’t think—”

  Beckett held up a hand. “Just hear us out, okay?”

  She frowned. What good will it do? Beckett still lived on Sa
rabelle, Bronx lived in New York and neither one of them would ever change. “I don’t think talking will—”

  “Just be quiet and listen, Chelsea. Please.” Bronx slid onto the barstool next to her.

  He looked so tired. A few days worth of beard shadowed his jaw and his shirt hadn’t been ironed or pressed. When was the last time he slept? Chelsea exhaled. The least she could do was listen. “Okay. I will.”

  Beckett spoke up. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Chelsea. I should have told you I owned Sarabelle from the beginning.”

  “And I shouldn’t have stayed silent. I should have spoken up right away.”

  “But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t tell you the truth.”

  Chelsea frowned. “You are?”

  Beckett nodded. “If we had, then we wouldn’t have gotten to know you, like you, fall in love with you.”

  Chelsea swallowed.

  “And we wouldn’t have been forced to confront all the animosity that’s built up between us through the years.”

  Bronx reached for her hand. “Because of you, we’re finally acting like brothers again. We’re not at odds for the first time in years, Chelsea. And we have you to thank.”

  She didn’t understand. “Why me?”

  “If we hadn’t both fallen for you, we’d never have worked out our differences.”

  Chelsea’s head swam. “So you’re telling me you’re not going to fight anymore?”

  Beckett smiled. “I can’t guarantee that. We are brothers.”

  “But the old wounds are just that, old. They’ll heal. And we have you to thank.”

  Chelsea pulled her hand out of Bronx’s grasp. “You’re welcome. But if that’s all you came to say, I should—”

  “It’s not.” Beckett stood up and came to stand beside Bronx. “We wanted to tell you we’re going forward with the art school.”

  A pang of sadness rocketed through Chelsea. “That’s wonderful. Sarabelle is a beautiful place for a school.”

  “It won’t be on Sarabelle.”

  “It won’t?”

  “No.” It was Bronx’s turn to smile. “It’s going to be right here in New York City. We’ve already purchased the space. The MacIntoshes are helping develop it.”

  So that’s why Jess sought her out. One of the MacIntosh bothers must have mentioned it. Chelsea nodded. “So what about Sarabelle?”

  “It stays our own private island. A place to run away to whenever we want.”

  She turned to Beckett. “And you’re okay with a school here? I thought you hated New York.”

  Beckett shrugged. “It’s growing on me. And the woman I’m madly in love with lives here, so I’ve got a reason to move.”

  Chelsea bit her lip. “What woman?”

  Beckett grinned, dimples and all. “You, silly. I love you Chelsea, and I want to be a part of your life. If that means moving to New York and sharing you with Bronx, I can do that. I’ll take as much or as little as you’re willing to give.”

  She turned to Bronx. “You don’t mind him living in New York?”

  “Nope. Not when it means I get to see more of you. I love you, too, Chelsea. I have since the minute I kissed you on Sarabelle’s beach all those days ago. Say you’ll forgive us. Say you’ll give us another chance.”

  Chelsea inhaled. The Kingston brothers loved her. They’d found a way to get over their differences for her. Hell, they’d uprooted their lives and sacrificed and worked out a whole plan just in case she might take them back.

  “I don’t know. I—”

  “You took a chance coming to Sarabelle because you said you needed a change. That you needed to take some risks in your life and be daring, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t have to fly over the ocean to be daring anymore. You can take a chance right here, right now. With us.” Bronx reached for her hand and she gave it.

  Beckett took the other. “We love you, Chelsea, and we’ll spend the rest of our lives showing you just how much. But you have to make the choice. It’s your call.” He squeezed her fingers. “Will you try this crazy relationship with us?”

  Chelsea thought about Liz and the conversation they’d had that night of the charity auction. The night when her whole life changed. If she hadn’t taken a chance on the Kingston brothers then, she’d have missed out on an adventure of a lifetime.

  She wouldn’t have paddleboarded out into the ocean or climbed a mountain to catch a glimpse of a waterfall. Or swam in the bright blue waters of a private lagoon.

  If she hadn’t said yes to Sarabelle, she’d never have known what it was like to fall in love twice. To fill her heart to bursting with love for not one, but two men.

  Two brothers who found a way to give her everything she never knew she needed. “No more lies?”

  Both men answered. “Never.”

  Chelsea smiled. “I love you too, both of you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  BRONX

  “Like I said, it’s not much.” Chelsea unlocked the door to her apartment and ushered Bronx and his brother inside.

  When she’d said she lived above a comic book shop, Bronx had assumed she meant one of those new mixed-use developments in steel and glass with businesses on the bottom and loft-style apartments on top.

  Not a tiny little walk-up with a busted front door and a barely enough room to turn around. He squeezed in past Beckett and found himself enveloped by Chelsea. The whole place smelled like her. Vanilla and watermelon and a hint of spice.

  He inhaled and closed his eyes. God, how he’d missed her. If it meant getting a chance to breathe her in, he’d live in the back of a van or camp on the edge of the Hudson in a tent. Anything to be near her.

  Trade in all those billions and the flashy apartment and clothes. Someone else could have them. Bronx just wanted her.

  “It’s not that bad is it?”

  Her voice startled him. She’d caught him. “No. It’s not that.” Bronx glanced at her cozy couch and chair made for reading. The wall of books and soft rug. But the view. Wow. The building didn’t look like much from the outside, but that right there was worth it.

  The single oversized casement window had an unobstructed view of the sunset. Just like his apartment across the city. And Chelsea hadn’t paid millions to get it. He smiled. They were more alike than he realized. “You have a beautiful view.”

  “Thank you. I know the building’s kind of gross, but every night I get to look at that. It’s worth it.”

  Beckett walked up and wrapped his arms around her middle. “You can watch the sun set whenever you want on Sarabelle, too.”

  Chelsea smiled. “You’re really okay with opening an art studio here in the city?”

  “I am.”

  She turned to Bronx. “And you’re okay with spending more time on Sarabelle when you want to get away?”

  “Yep.”

  With a smile, Chelsea reached for his hand. He let her tug him closer. “Good. Because I want to go back, just the three of us.”

  “Whenever you want to, say the word and we’ll go. It’s only a three-hour trip.”

  “But in the meantime,” Beckett leaned over and planted a kiss on her temple, “I want you to help get the art school off the ground. You have so much talent, Chelsea, and you’re an expert at events.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Bronx brushed the hair off her face and smiled. “He’s saying I’ll manage the acquisition of the space and work with Gage and Holt to get it off the ground. Beckett will handle the studio space and hiring teachers. And you’ll take us from an idea to a fully-booked school.”

  “You want me to help you?”

  “Of course.” Bronx nuzzled her ear. God, he loved her. “And whenever you’re ready, you can be a student, too.”

  CHELSEA

  Chelsea smiled, full to bursting with a newfound sense of happiness and love. Liz was right. Taking chances led to the best new discoveries. Now she knew what she wanted in life, and it wa
sn’t endless parties and event coordinating for someone else’s business.

  It was Bronx and Beckett and the future they had created out of thin air. She’d help Beckett make his dream of an art school a reality, get a chance to explore her passion for sculpting, and bring the Kingston brothers closer together.

  Chelsea couldn’t ask for anything more.

  Beckett nuzzled her cheek and she grinned. Maybe one more thing. Without another word, she turned to Beckett and kissed him. They could talk about their plans all they wanted in the morning.

  But the next few hours were all theirs. Preferably trying to fall out of her bed.

  She broke away from Beckett and motioned toward the hall. “I’ll warn you, it’s a tight squeeze in my bedroom.”

  Bronx wrapped his hands around her waist and kissed the spot behind her ear. “We don’t need a bed.”

  Oh. As Beckett stepped up to her, Bronx spun her around in his grasp. “I thought I’d never get to kiss you again.”

  “You did?”

  “Mm-hmm. And then meeting you at the hotel, hoping you would give us another chance…” He stroked his thumb across her lower lip. “When you said yes, I wanted to pick you up, set you on the bar, and take you right there, in front of everyone.”

  Chelsea shuddered. “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  Beckett voice filled her ear. “He’s not the only one. I almost booked us a room just so we didn’t have to wait. But this is better.”

  With a roll of his shoulders, Bronx shed his jacket. Love fierce and needy blazed in his brown eyes. As she stared at Bronx, his brother’s hands slid up her sides and around her front to cup her breasts. She moaned.

  So overwhelming and wonderful.

  Chelsea’s lips opened and Bronx seized her mouth, his tongue swiping across her own. He tasted of liquor and pent-up desire as he raked his tongue over her teeth. She wanted to drown in it. Drown in his power and strength and love and wake up reborn.