GirlMostLikelyTo

by Barbara Elsborg

  “Don’t forget to collect your receipts,” Wren said to everyone.

  Gradually, the room emptied until it was just the three of them. She checked the ovens were switched off and sidled toward the door.

  “Don’t escape,” Tomas said. “We want talk to you.”

  “I’m very busy.” She shrugged on her coat and picked up the folder and her purse.

  Tomas leaned with his back against the door. “If you run, we chase.”

  And damn if that didn’t make her panties wet. But she straightened her shoulders and glanced from him to Adam. “Okay. What do you want?” Her heart hammered so loudly, it was all she could hear.

  “We both want you,” Tomas said.

  Nope, she heard that just fine. Her knees trembled and she clamped her legs together.

  “W-what for?” But she knew. She fumbled with the buttons of her coat to hide her trembling fingers.

  Adam stepped forward. “I’m sorry I left without saying anything.”

  She nodded. “You needed to think.”

  His eyes widened. “You heard me say that?”

  “I was thinking too.”

  His face flushed. “That I was an asshole? I was. Am. Sorry.”

  “You said you didn’t think you were the man I deserved.” She twisted a button. “What changed?”

  He sighed. “Nothing. I’m still not the man you deserve, but I want to try to be.”

  “We bisexual, Wren,” Tomas whispered. “We need both worlds. Not enough to settle for man or woman.”

  She raised her head to look at Adam. “I’m not enough for you?”

  “I wish you were.” He glanced from her to Tomas and back. “I don’t mean any disrespect to Tomas. Maybe one of you is the one who could be enough for me, but my heart tells me not, that me with a single partner won’t happen, that there’s more risk of hurting that person if I try. I want you both.”

  “We need third. We need you,” Tomas said.

  There were a million reasons to say no. Well, not a million, but Wren knew no was the right answer. Maybe not right but sensible. So why was her heart shouting yes? Every cell and molecule screaming yes? Plus she wanted to be number one, not number three.

  She opened her mouth just as there was a bang on the door. Wren let out a little squeak.

  Alfred came in. “Finished, Wren?”

  “Yes, thanks.” She handed him the bunch of keys and, grabbing her purse and the folder, slipped out, Adam and Tomas on her heels.

  Maybe she deserved two gorgeous men. Maybe this was her reward for the shitty way she’d been treated by her exes.

  It won’t last, said her head.

  I don’t care, said her heart.

  At that moment she didn’t want to remember Tomas likely worked for a crook, that Adam had walked out on her. They were here now and they wanted her. She wasn’t going to hide from the way she felt any longer. As they emerged into the night, she turned to face them.

  Adam stood fidgeting, his cheeks still dusted with icing sugar, his lips pressed together, but his eyes full of eager anticipation. In less than three weeks he’d be gone. But so might she. Tomas stood motionless at his side, a slight curve to his lips, his hands in his pockets, pure devilment in his gaze.

  Wren felt the ache in her lower belly, need flaring like hunger. She could say no, walk away and that would be it. Or she could say yes and have an adventure. And okay, it might not last but she’d still have had it.

  “Going to be brave?” Tomas asked.

  “You’re not a coward if you say no,” Adam said.

  Tomas’ face fell. “Didn’t mean—”

  “I know.” Wren attempted a smile.

  There was a long pause.

  “Let’s go bowling,” Adam blurted.

  Tomas gaped at him.

  “I’d love that,” Wren said. Because she wasn’t quite ready to take the next step. Well, any step. Her feet were stuck to the pavement.

  “And after?” Tomas asked.

  “Depends who wins.” Wren managed to kick-start herself into walking toward the Merrion Center.

  Adam insisted on paying. They exchanged their footwear for nonslip bowling shoes and Tomas went to buy drinks. The guys had the same size feet. Big.

  “You okay?” Adam asked as they settled in their allotted bay.

  “Yep.” She brushed a smudge of icing sugar from his cheek and licked her fingers.

  He groaned. “Oh Christ. I’m going to have to keep my coat on now.”

  She dropped hers on a chair with a laugh, putting her purse and the folder beneath. Adam sat at the desk in front of the automatic scoring system and tapped in their names. Wren glanced at the lanes on either side. Two older, intense-looking men played on their left and a noisy mixed group bowled on the right. One of the women got a strike and jumped up and down to cheers and hoots of excitement.

  Wren turned to check for Tomas and Adam came up behind her. His hand settled on her hip, his thumb caressing, and heat shot all the way through her clothes. He moved closer until she could feel his erect cock pressing against her through the gap in his coat, and her sex responded with a spasm of recognition. She swiveled in his arms and he kissed her gently, holding her waist as he licked his way into her mouth. The kiss was gentle but persuasive and he teased with his tongue, let it flirt with hers. A surge of cream wet her panties. The kiss grew stronger, Adam’s grip tighter and her control began to slip. She wanted him naked, her naked, Tomas—

  “Starting without me?”

  They sprang apart. Tomas came forward, a smile on his face, carrying a tray with several bottles of beer and bowls of fries. He held out a Corona to Wren.

  “Thanks.” She wrapped her fingers around the bottle but Tomas didn’t let go.

  He tugged her closer. “Do I get kiss too?”

  Wren didn’t get chance to answer. As she opened her mouth, he moved in, his tongue invading as his free hand moved around her back to pull her tightly to him. She felt Adam tug the bottle from between them, heard him laugh, and then Tomas was groaning into her mouth, his tongue sliding back and forth repeatedly as if it was fucking her. His cock was as hard and insistent as Adam’s. Tomas slid his hands up her back, threaded his fingers in her hair and held her head, kept her exactly where he wanted her. She clung to his coat, her heart struggling to maintain an even beat, struggling to stay in the same place in her chest. She wondered if it was trying to run away in terror or leap out to kiss his.

  Just when she thought she’d either suffocate or dissolve into a puddle, Tomas let her go. She stood wobbling, looking from one to the other, registered the slight air of smug satisfaction and grinned.

  “Are either of you going to take your coats off?”

  “Not at the moment,” Adam said. “Damn that was hot.”

  Wren took a long slug of beer, aware the guys hadn’t taken their gazes off her, and then put the bottle down and bent over the rack of balls, her butt facing them. She ran both hands over the smooth surfaces of an orange and a blue ball.

  “Mmm, can’t decide which I like best,” she said and wriggled her backside.

  She picked up the blue one and hugged it, stuck her fingers in the holes, took them out again, slid them in again and heard choked groans from the guys.

  “Let’s try the other.” She picked up the orange ball and stroked it before she put her fingers in. “Bit tight. Too tight? Not sure. Might be too heavy. Not keen on orange.”

  Tomas lifted the ball from her and put it down. “Enough.”

  “But I like playing with balls.” She could hardly believe it was her speaking.

  Adam pushed a pink one into her arms. “Try that. It’s the lightest. You bowl first.”

  Wren pushed her fingers into the holes and stood in front of the foul line. She concentrated hard, ignoring the bangs and cracks from the lanes on either side, and lowered the arm holding the ball. As she swung it back, she stepped forward expecting the ball to fly, but it didn’t come out of her hand.
Instead, she was the one who flew. Unbalanced, she staggered, one of her feet landed in the oily lane and she went down hard.

  “Ouch.”

  Adam and Tomas were on her in an instant, cradling her, helping her to her feet, their eyes full of concern.

  “God, that was my fault. Are you okay?” Adam asked.

  Tomas took the ball from her and Wren brushed herself down. “I’m fine.” Another bruise to add to her bruises.

  “Check fingers fit next ball,” Tomas said.

  “Good idea. I don’t like balls slipping out of my grip.” She couldn’t hold back her snigger.

  “You are going to be in so much trouble later,” Adam whispered.

  She went to try out a different color but could hear the guys talking behind her.

  “Do you need to keep that up?” Adam said.

  Keep what up?

  “Might be someone listening,” Tomas muttered.

  Adam gave an exasperated sigh.

  What?

  Wren carried a much heavier purple ball over to the foul line. As she tried to pull her arm back, she dropped it mid-swing. It crept over the line and began to slowly roll down the lane.

  “Have you actually done this before?” Adam asked through his laughter.

  She pretended to glare. Tomas sat on the bench, holding his bottle of beer against his mouth, though she suspected he was trying to disguise that he was also laughing.

  “I haven’t found the perfect ball yet. That one didn’t feel quite right. I need lots of ball handling to find what I like best.”

  Tomas stood up and stared over her shoulder, his eyes widening. He nodded to the lane. “Look.”

  She turned to see her ball still trundling toward the pins, smack in the center of the lane.

  “Oooh. Come on, come on,” she yelled.

  She clenched her fists as the first pin fell and then the others followed.

  “Yessss,” she hissed in delight and thrust up her palms for high fives.

  “Fluke,” Tomas said as he smacked his palm against hers.

  “Skill,” she corrected. “My ball handling skills are second to none.”

  Oh God, what am I saying?

  “You know you have something to prove now,” Adam said. “Can you juggle with four balls?”

  Her knees wobbled and she slumped onto the seat.

  Adam smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll teach you.”

  The guys took off their coats and started to bowl. Of course they were good. They played to win. But the longer they played, the more reassured she became. They were competitive, but not aggressively so. They teased each other, praised each other and her. The more they joked and fooled around, the more comfortable Wren grew in their company.

  By the time they were halfway through, she’d tried out every color and thrown most of them into the gutter, either within feet of the foul line or the ball veered into the side channel just before it reached the pins. She’d tried using both hands, swapping hands, throwing hard, throwing soft, shoving, tossing—which had caused both guys to suck in an audible breath as the ball crashed onto the lane—but it made no difference.

  “I suck,” she said.

  Adam and Tomas froze, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. That hadn’t been deliberate but—what the hell.

  “Really badly,” she muttered.

  “I doubt that,” Adam whispered.

  “No, I suck, suck, suck, suck, suck.”

  “You little minx.” Adam gave a low growl as he brushed past her on his way to the line.

  Tomas couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun like this without it involving sex. Though to be fair, he was thinking about sex. He was turned-on watching them, turned-on listening to them. Touching wasn’t advisable. He wished he could talk to Wren without this damn accent but he couldn’t take the risk. Maybe in the privacy of his apartment or Adam’s? But then he’d have to explain why he was in her conversation class. One slip of the tongue from her could land them in serious trouble.

  Adam won the first game, and he won the second. Though they’d planned to let Wren win the third, she was so hopeless, they gave up and Adam beat him. Just. Tomas surprised himself by not minding. Well, not too much.

  When they emerged into the chilly evening, the three of them eyed each other warily.

  “Well?” Tomas eventually asked.

  Wren put down her purse and folder, reached out and slid her hand into his. His heart jumped. She tugged Adam’s hand from his pocket and held it but said nothing.

  “Wren,” Adam said. “What do you want to do, sweetheart?”

  Her first word was incomprehensible. She coughed and tried again. “I want you to show me what else you’re good at.”

  Tomas gulped. “Come to my apartment?”

  She nodded.

  When she let his hand go to pick up her purse, Tomas took the file and tucked it under his arm. Wren slung her purse on her shoulder and held their hands as they hurried through the city, seemingly unconcerned about walking like that with two guys. Tomas’ dick ached. It had been up and down like a damn yo-yo the entire evening. Just as he thought he’d mentally wrestled it back under control, he’d look at Adam’s tight ass or catch sight of Wren’s lovely smile and blood raced south like an Olympic sprinter. It was of some comfort that glances at Adam’s crotch revealed the same problem. Thank God it wasn’t bright in the bowling alley.

  As they neared the station, Tomas’ phone vibrated in his inside pocket. He let go of Wren. “I catch up.”

  He stopped walking and brought the phone to his ear.

  “Good evening,” Julia said. “Orange service department. You have a complaint?”

  “I need top up phone. Twenty-two pounds.”

  “Can you talk?”

  “Probably okay, but on street.”

  “Can I talk to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Adam Kesey. Thirty years old. Boy wonder. Owner of Mirofax, the antifraud company. IT whiz. First class honors from Oxford University. Bit of a bastard to work for apparently. No criminal record. Around seventieth in the Times Rich List. Currently on vacation. Looks fine.”

  Yep, he did look fine. But way out of Tomas’ league. A millionaire? Fuck. He’d heard the comment about more than one home and car and still not got it.

  “You there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wren Monroe. Twenty-five. No priors. She reported the theft of eighteen thousand pounds by her boyfriend a few months ago. He emptied her bank account and maxed out her credit card.”

  “Shit.”

  “He’s skipped abroad. There’s no active case against him. Well, wasn’t.”

  “Meaning?” Tomas kept his eye on Wren and Adam walking ahead, holding hands, heads together.

  “She’s Chief Constable Joe Ellis’ adopted daughter.”

  Tomas’ world came crashing down along with his jaw.

  “So no problem with either of them,” Julia said.

  “Right. Thanks.” Tomas ended the call and shoved the phone back in his inside pocket.

  Julia was his immediate boss but above her loomed Joe Ellis, and if he found out Tomas had fucked his daughter, particularly with another guy, there was no need to worry about danger from Marco. Joe Ellis would string him up by the balls.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tomas caught up with Adam and Wren underneath the railway bridge. He had an excuse all ready in his head. The phone call had been from his boss. Marco needed him. Now. Sorry, but he couldn’t get out of it.

  He saw Wren’s happy, excited face and lost the plot.

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips. “Missed you.”

  His hand moved without permission from his brain, snaking around her waist to pull her close. The scent of her made him hard. Maybe her father wouldn’t find out. Wren was hardly going to tell him she was having sex with two guys. Adam could be the visible one. Tomas would hide. He was an undercover expert. Preferably under the covers of her bed
.

  “You okay?” Adam gave him a curious look.

  The guy was too bloody sharp. “Yeah, fine.”

  Tomas slung his arm over Wren’s shoulder as they walked the last few hundred yards to Dock Street. Why hadn’t Adam told him he owned the company he worked for? He hadn’t even said it was to do with fraud. He was hiding who he was just as much as Tomas.

  Oh shit, not really.

  He chewed the inside of his cheek. Maybe they ought to make it clear to Wren before they started that this likely wouldn’t last beyond a few months. Adam might manage a few journeys to Leeds from London, but a busy guy like him, a rich guy like him wouldn’t be interested in long-term, no matter what he said. In any case, Tomas had spent months cultivating a relationship with Marco. The asshole had made noises about sending him on the next collection. Tomas couldn’t compromise that.

  He handed Wren her folder, took out his key and unlocked the gate, and then the door to the building. Wren had chattered ten to the dozen all the way here and now she’d fallen silent. She was no longer holding their hands and seemed smaller, as if she’d shrunk into herself.

  In the lift, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor. Adam looked at him and raised his eyebrows. Tomas shrugged. He suspected Wren’s chatter was a defense mechanism, that her flirting wasn’t borne of any real experience. She wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

  Tomas opened up his apartment and gestured them inside. When he closed the door, Wren clutched her purse and folder like a shield, as though she expected them to jump on her. He took off his coat and tossed it aside. Neither Adam nor Wren moved.

  “One thing,” Wren said. “Something that scares me and I don’t want you to mess around teasing me about it because I’ll really freak out. I don’t like having my face covered. So no pillow on my face, no towel, no sheet, no backside, okay?”

  They nodded.

  Adam took a deep breath. “There’s no decision to be made here, angel. No point from now when you can’t tell us no. No line we’ll cross without your consent. That goes for us too.” He glanced at Tomas. “I don’t want your fist up my ass.”