Crossroads 5: Show Me What Love Is (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “I’m going to do this. I’m going to take charge of my life and stop being a doormat. I’m going to knock their socks off.”

  Chapter 1

  Chief Riley Cummings started up a pot of coffee by the counter. He liked his silly little percolator, which he had to fill it with cold tap water, add the spoonfuls of fresh ground coffee to the little pot, then sit and wait for it. He prepared his eggs and some toast and waited for the pot to brew as he looked at the high-end contraption his brother Chancellor had installed in the industrial, extra-large kitchen. A tap of a button or two, and the damn machine made the finest coffee around. That was Chancellor. He could have only the best in everything.

  He smirked as the smell of fresh-brewed coffee filtered through the air. As the sun began to rise and slowly come through the large windows overlooking the lake and woods, he couldn’t help but smile. The three of them, he, Chancellor and their brother Collin, lived out here in the large lake house at the estate on the shore of Lake Wellington. As the local chief of police, he loved everything about Wellington and all it had to offer, especially their cousin’s place, Crossroads.

  He wondered if he would get caught up in any investigations or crimes before having to call it a night and make it to the pre- Thanksgiving celebration at Crossroads. Plenty of their friends would be there, but he doubted Chancellor would make it. He had some big, ritzy business dinner to attend, and Collin rarely socialized. Riley could probably talk Collin into grabbing a beer or two, but nothing more. The man was such a loner. Just caught up in hiking and working his day-trading gig on the side, he was happier than a pig in shit. Was it him, or was he the only one not giving up on finding a woman to make their own?

  The percolator stopped, and he reached for the mug and added some coffee to it, then walked to the table to eat his breakfast and enjoy his coffee. He looked out over the lake and the wooded area, wondering where time had disappeared. He was getting older, now thirty-six and spending less and less time with his brothers and more time putzing around Wellington and the sheriff’s department because there wasn’t much else to do.

  He exhaled and then heard the footsteps coming from the long hallway that led to the bedrooms on the first floor.

  “Morning,” Collin said. Well, more like grunted.

  Riley glanced at him, noticing slicked-back, wavy hair to his shoulders and then the thick, well-trimmed beard Collin had started sporting two years ago. He trained and worked out like a maniac, did a lot of hiking, and thought-searching, but somehow, despite him never really finding a profession or career to fit into, he’d succeeded on his own day-trading. He was a whiz with business and numbers. Chancellor was always trying to get him to come work with him in the city, but that just wasn’t Collin’s style.

  “Morning, bro, what’s going on?” he asked him as Collin walked over to the percolator and poured himself a cup.

  ‘Nothing.” He took a sip of the beverage and sighed. “This is real fucking coffee.”

  Riley chuckled. “What did Chancellor try to give you, one of his fresh-brewed, top-of-the-line café lattes or something?”

  Collin scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nasty, and such a waste of money for those special imported pods. I swear if that machine goes, it’s going to cost a fortune just to get some asshole out here to fuck around with it.”

  “I think Chancellor would just order another one to be installed. He can’t be bothered.”

  Collin snorted and then walked over to the stove. He started to make his own breakfast, and Riley stared back out toward the lake. It was a gorgeous, perfect view, a multimillion-dollar view, just like the additional ten acres of lakefront land they owned, which had been in the family for generations. His parents had taken it over when they first got married and had very little money. It was one of their main investments, including in the storefront property in town on what was now Main Street. It was Chancellor who had continued with the real estate business side of the family.

  “Why are you so quiet?” Collin asked as he scooped his eggs onto a plate then waited for the toast to pop from the toaster.

  “Just relaxing before work.”

  “Bullshit. I know that look. What’s bothering you?”

  He sighed and then turned to look at Collin. He was a hard man, and didn’t have the best, most cordial personality, but he was trustworthy and his brother, and Riley loved him. He also felt badly for Collin because he’d gotten into trouble a few years back. It hadn’t been his fault, but some guy had started a fight with him and his friends one night at a bar in Portland Place, and things got out of hand. His best friend was stabbed and killed, and Collin had to fight off three men and wound up putting two in the hospital and one in his grave. He hadn’t gotten over that, even though it turned out the guys were criminals, were abusive assholes to their girlfriends and wives. That hadn’t mattered. Collin had taken a life, and that wasn’t something he’d ever thought he would have to do.

  Riley stood up and began to clear his plate. “Nothing is doing.”

  Collin stared at him a moment and then took his stuff over to the table to the same spot where Riley had sat.

  “Any plans for the weekend?” Riley asked.

  “Just doing some hiking. How about you?”

  “Well, I was hoping you might want to join me for a few beers tomorrow night at Crossroads. Chancellor has some function to go to and won’t make it.”

  “Big surprise there. He hardly ever goes to Crossroads.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s kind of a pre-Thanksgiving celebration that Doc and Stitch are throwing.”

  “Are Niko and Miles going to be there?”

  “If they don’t have to work.”

  “Maybe one beer, but that’s it. I don’t like the crowds.”

  “I know, but it’s a good place, and the guys keep it under control. No one gets too rowdy.”

  Collin gave him a look, and he appeared lost in thought. Riley realized what he’d just said. Collin had gone to plenty of bars since that incident years ago. He knew it wasn’t the bar that caused the fight but the people. Just like guns. Guns didn’t kill people. It was the one holding the guns and pulling the trigger.

  “Okay, well, I’ll touch base with you later about it. I need to head out.”

  “Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  * * * *

  Collin watched his brother leave the room, and a short time later, the sound of the door closing and then the garage doors opening told him his brother had left the house.

  Collin looked out toward the lake, seeing the glistening sunlight dance along the calm surface of the water. Pretty soon, the lake would be a sheet of ice. He could go ice fishing right down below and even ride the snowmobiles across the lake and not have to go all the way around the mountain to get to that special place he enjoyed so much.

  He loved the winters here in Wellington. The only negatives were the cold, lonely nights and when people got lost hiking in the woods and his brother and the local department needed help tracking.

  He loved the outdoors. He loved keeping to himself and living off the land, but it also gave him too much time to think, to remember the things he’d done wrong in his life, which made him have regrets and wish that things had been different. He’d lost a best friend, and he’d taken a life. It took the better part of a year to get cleared of all the charges, especially since the guy he killed was the cousin to some notorious asshole from the city. Cristano Chicatiro had threatened to seek revenge, but between Chancellor’s and Collin’s connections, never mind their parents’ connections, nothing ever came of it and all charges were dropped and removed from Collin’s file.

  He exhaled and then took a sip from his coffee cup. All of that crap was behind them. Life went on. But he couldn’t help but to feel as if he was holding Chancellor and Riley back from what they always wanted, a ménage relationship like their parents had. Getting that close to a woman, to a person other than his brothers, just wasn
’t going to happen. Not now, anyway.

  Chapter 2

  Chancellor made his way around the cocktail party. It was the same people, the same old bullshit, and the same old businessmen trying to kiss his ass so he would throw them a bone or two. He’d come here to ensure that his financial investments remained intact, and, as always, to keep an eye on potential new prospects.

  “Chancellor, so nice to see you here this evening. How are you?”

  Ross Harris, the conniving kiss-up. He had been trying to get Chancellor to invest in his company. Word was Ross had landed a set of six high-end accounts in the past year. No one knew how he did it, just that he seemed to have been struck with some creative genius when it came to advertising and thinking out of the box. Chancellor found it difficult to believe, and he didn’t trust the man one bit.

  “Ross.” He nodded. No “nice to see you too” or “how are you?” He didn’t give a shit. Ross Harris was a dick.

  “How’s business?” Ross asked, which meant that business for Ross must be doing quite well for him to bring up business.

  “Good, and you? Any new endeavors?” He took a sip from his glass of wine. At least the Promenade had an extensive list of top-of-the-line wines and other beverages to his tasting, or this might have been a truly wasted night. He felt bored with this conversation, bored with the whole business thing right now. He was in a mood, and surprisingly, Crossroads was calling his name. He never was in the mood to go there. He wondered why.

  “Ah, actually, I would love for you to meet my assistant,” he said, looking past Chancellor’s shoulder. Chancellor had to stop his eyes from rolling in boredom. He really didn’t like Ross one bit.

  But as he turned to see whom Ross was waving over, he felt the shot to his chest, and it was instant. My God, who in the world is this?

  “Bethany, meet Chancellor Cummings. Chancellor, this is Bethany Rigallo, my personal assistant.” Ross gave Bethany the once-over and nearly licked his lips. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous and her body, the way her champagne-colored dress hugged her shapely figure like a glove, had Chancellor nearly wiping his own lips.

  “Oh, Mr. Cummings. So nice to make your acquaintance.” She reached her hand out to shake his. He, of course, brought her hand to his lips as he bowed and kissed the top. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Rigallo.”

  He saw her cheeks turned a light shade of red, and she shyly looked away. His dick hardened beneath his tux, and that rarely happened to him. He slowly released her hand and then smiled softly.

  “Oh, excuse me one moment. Bethany, meet me by the martini bar in a few. I think I see a few people who would like to discuss our new project, okay?”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll be there.” She then watched her boss walk away. Chancellor was a bit taken aback by the way she called her boss “sir” and then followed him with her eyes, but she wasn’t infatuated with the man. It appeared as if she was throwing daggers at his back, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Can I get you a drink, Bethany?” he asked her.

  “No, thank you.” She fidgeted with her hands and looked a little uneasy. She was petite compared to him, despite the very high-heeled shoes she wore.

  “Your dress is lovely and quite unique. I noticed you immediately when you entered the room.” He took a sip from his wine. He held her gaze over the rim of the glass, and she smirked.

  “Hmm, so you have eyes in the back of your head, then, huh?” she countered, challenging his flirtatious comment.

  “So you saw me first and watched, waited for me to turn around so you could get a closer look?” he replied. He licked his lower lip and held her gaze, then let his eyes roam over the cleavage of her dress.

  “I have eyes everywhere, especially when I see something I like and am interested in.”

  She swallowed hard, giving away her inexperience, and that just added to her appeal.

  “You’re brothers with Chief Riley Cummings, right?” she asked and then looked away from him as if she were bored with his flirtatious tactics. Her appeal went up another notch.

  “You know Riley?” he asked.

  “I know who he is, but he’s good friends with some of my closest friends.”

  “And who are your closest friends?”

  “Suzette and Lacey. I believe Lacey bought one of your storefronts in Wellington with the help of one of her boyfriends, Stone.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I’ve been to a few of their gatherings. How come I’ve never seen you before?” he asked.

  “It must be the dress,” she teased, and he smiled, giving a little chuckle.

  “No way. With eyes like yours, I would never forget,” he told her, holding her gaze. They were so very green and stood out against her lovely, perfect complexion. Even her skin was flawless, and her breasts creamy and full in the tight bodice of the dress. She was effective. It was the only way he could describe her right now in thought.

  “I’m always working so I don’t always attend their parties.”

  “What a shame, but I guess it wasn’t meant for us to meet then.”

  She chuckled and gave him a sideways glance, as if saying he was so full of shit. He squinted at her.

  “I doubt that.” She turned as someone called out her name. She looked, and sure enough it was Ross Harris, along with Treck Bonds, a scumbag litigation lawyer who had a hobby of messing around with women, tying them up, torturing them, and making them sign legal contracts against their will to protect his reputation. They couldn’t report the abuse or the violence he bestowed upon them. Even if they tried, he knew people and the charges always disappeared, but rarely did the women complain, he paid them so much. He was scum, as was anyone associated with the fuckhead.

  Instinctively, Chancellor took her arm.

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  She looked at him, mouth gaping open and eyes wide in surprise at his move and how he touched her so. She’d felt the connection, the instant, deep power of the attraction. It was pretty obvious as they locked gazes and didn’t say a word.

  “I don’t need an escort. I’m certain you have plenty of women looking be escorted by you tonight,” she countered.

  He gave her a sly smirk. “Your friends are good friends with my brother and some of the best guys I know. There’s no way I’m sending you over to the wolves, dressed like this and looking so incredible.”

  “Wolves?” she asked, choosing to lower her eyes and not even question the attraction or his control. He found her shyness very attractive, and it was definitely not an act.

  “Wolves are an understatement. They’re bad men, Bethany. Take my words of advice and stay guarded.”

  Chancellor watched as all three men smiled and ate up Bethany with their eyes. They each went to reach for her at once, and it made him pull her closer in jealousy, which he wasn’t quite used to.

  “Such a pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. Ross has told me so much about you.”

  “Ah, I doubt he has told you some of my best parts, Miss Rigallo.” Treck Bonds took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed the top.

  “We’ve heard how you have assisted Ross in preparing this new campaign he came up with. It sounds quite genius.” Donald Lawson took her hand and shook it hello, and let his eyes roam over Bethany’s breasts.

  Chancellor pressed his hand against her side, and she turned to look at him, appearing a bit shocked by his possessive hold as she tried moving away from his hand. He gave her a wink, and she turned away from him. She felt so good, so sexy this close. He could feel her curves and hipbone beneath his palm, and also a strength in her that told him she must work out. Her arms were toned in the strapless dress, her shoulders pulled back and sexy as damn hell. He’d love to kiss her skin and explore her further. Maybe if he played his cards right, he would be lucky enough to take Bethany home with him tonight.

  As he listened to the men talk, he got the gist of the business they were discussing. He’d heard about the new campaign,
but it appeared to be one of six separate ones that would bring in a lot of money to Ross’s enterprise. A waiter came over with a set of champagne glasses, and two other men joined the conversation. Chancellor knew them all, and didn’t care for their business tactics, but he was a firm believer in keeping your friends close and your enemies even closer. Not that he sweated any of these men, but he knew for a fact that businessmen Treck Bonds dealt with included men who’d killed to get to the top and what they were after. In fact, he wondered if Treck was still in cahoots with Cristano Chicatiro, a wise-guy business crook with ties to the drug lords and anything financially rewarding and illegal.

  “So how did you come up with the idea, Ross? I mean, it was really interesting,” William Shay said as he smiled at Bethany and looked at her like an object, like he had every right to stare at her breasts while he licked his lips and probably thought naughty thoughts about her. He had no respect for women.

  Their demeaning attitudes and condescending tones were really too much to handle. They weren’t even treating her like a business associate, and for some reason, Chancellor had the feeling that Treck was already deciding on whether she could be his next victim. Not that he knew what type of woman Bethany was, but if she were anything like her friends, then she had class and was not into sexual favors for money and moving up the corporate ladder that way. He was about to excuse himself from this stupid conversation, but then Bethany shocked the hell out of him when she spoke.

  Ross turned to Bethany. “Why don’t I let Bethany explain?”

  Bethany looked a little shell-shocked, but then she took a sip from her glass of wine and held Ross’s gaze.

  “And what exactly would you like me to explain to them? I mean, perhaps the long hours I spent coming up with the ideas on my own, the countless hours creating the actual design as I presented my creative ideas to you in hopes of being allowed to advance on this project and lead? Or maybe you would like me to explain to these fine gentleman how you’ve taken credit for all of my creative ideas, the last half-dozen projects, and haven’t given me one ounce of credit. Maybe they would find that interesting, sir,” she said in an angry but firm tone.