“I hope so. I can’t take any more bad ones.”

  “I promise.” Ramsey repeated. “I’ll see you tonight?’

  He and Hunter would be the highlight of my evening. “Bright and smiling on my man’s arm,” I said.

  “My man. I’d only share with you.”

  I smiled. “Don’t I feel special.”

  “You should. You always should. And I’m serious.”

  I stumbled over his meaning. “You’re giving me permission to fall in love with my husband? So generous.” My teasing felt flat.

  “No,” Ramsey said. “Even I can’t stop something like that. I’m giving you permission to fuck my boyfriend.”

  “Did I mention how generous you are?” Despite parrying the comments, my mind was racing along the potential. Clinging to a desire I’d barely dared skim the surface of, as images teased me of being wrapped up in Hunter. Of admitting there was more of a connection to our sex. Of not having to assume he’d be gone in the morning.

  Then the reality of last night brought the fantasy crashing down around me. “Pretty sure I’ve burned that bridge. He’s asking for things from me I can’t give.”

  “That doesn’t sound familiar at all.” Sarcasm laced Ramsey’s reply. “You have your limits and he has his.”

  Was he really comparing my desire to not drop my obligations to his cavern of secrets? “But unlike me, his aren’t reasonable.”

  “Hunter will do the impossible for someone he cares about,” Ramsey said. “But he won’t watch them destroy themselves. That’s not unreasonable.”

  What happened to our angsty-light conversation? “I’m not—”

  “Have this talk with him. But I know you’ll work it out.”

  “How are you so certain?”

  “Because I love you both, and I have excellent taste in people.”

  There were so many holes in that reply, I didn’t know where to start picking it apart. I also didn’t want to. “I don’t have your confidence.”

  “So borrow some of mine.” Ramsey’s voice went muffled for a moment, as he talked to someone else, and then he was back. “I’m so sorry. I have to run. I miss you Taffy. Always when you’re not around.”

  I shouldn’t say it. The words would hurt. But holding them inside didn’t make them any less painful. “I miss you too.”

  “We’ll make this right, I promise.”

  I didn’t know if we could, but as we disconnected I needed him to be right.

  I sat on the bed for the longest time, staring at my phone. What was I supposed to do with my afternoon? If I checked in on the contractors at the shelter again, they’d probably bar me from the premises. I’d finished the month’s paperwork.

  Was it too early to get ready for the fundraiser tonight? It was a more casual event, so I didn’t have to do the whole evening gown and heels thing.

  Even though I was staying in the guest room, the bathroom was much larger than the one in my apartment. I’d been so busy, I hadn’t had a chance to try out the large tub. It would be a shame to move out and not give it a whirl at least once.

  Move out, the words soured in my gut, so I ignored them and ran a bath instead. The water was a half notch above comfortable when I dipped my hand in. Perfect. I stripped off my clothes and slipped into the water.

  The heat wrapped around me, yanking me toward serenity. Was I really fighting relaxation? Hunter’s and Ramsey’s words bounced in my head, demanding I give them attention.

  Why couldn’t I just chill for a few hours? A question that extended far beyond the walls of this room and this moment.

  I let Lyn down yesterday. Sure, it was a party, but what if it had been work? Or Luna needing something? Or a crisis with one of the kids? Not a basement flooding crisis, but the kind of crisis my sister had gone through.

  If I pushed myself to a crash, to hospitalization, I couldn’t be there for them.

  Or yourself, I swore that was Hunter’s voice in my head.

  I sank lower in the water, until my head from the nose up was the only thing not submerged. If I relaxed now, what would happen? Anything worse than if I didn’t?

  No. In fact, if something did come up, I could probably deal with it better.

  Why did admitting that feel like surrender?

  I struggled with logic versus instinct as I soaked. After the bath, I took my time stripping off the blue nail polish from two weeks ago and doing my hair. Hurrying through either meant waiting, and either could be dropped if someone called.

  No one did.

  Hunter got home a little after five, and I was sitting on the couch with the divorce papers on the coffee table.

  He looked between them and me. “You want to do this now.”

  “Did you think I’d want to wait?”

  He shook his head. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  So. Many. Things. I doubted he wanted a dissertation. Then again, Hunter would probably listen to me spew out every single thought I’d had since I woke up. “You first.”

  “I already had a turn.” He crossed the room and stopped a few feet away, keeping the table and the paperwork between us.

  “I can’t just turn off my obligations.”

  “You don’t have to. I’d never ask that. I want you to take the first step toward making sure you’re as taken care of as everyone you’re looking out for.”

  It sounded so simple. More when he said it than when I’d made the argument with myself. “If I stop...” What? The world hadn’t ended today. I felt better rested than in weeks.

  “You’re not stopping. You’re doing a risk assessment and re-prioritizing.” Of course he had to make sense about it all.

  Was I ready for that? “I think we got off-track. This is about the—” divorce. I couldn’t say it, so I gestured to the paperwork.

  “Agreed. We can’t have one conversation without the other. Unless you’re ready to sign that paperwork.” Hunter’s confident tone wavered.

  He was holding a marriage I hadn’t wanted over my head to force me to change who I was. No. That was the wrong way to look at it, and he’d made sure to say so.

  “All right, I’ll go first.” Hunter came around the table and took the spot next to me. He cupped my face between his palms. “I don’t think I’m ready to sign the paperwork. I’m not saying I’d propose—yet—if we had a chance to do things differently, but we didn’t. What if isn’t part of the equation.”

  Each stroke of his thumb along my cheekbone sent a fissure of comfort through me. He searched my face. “I’ve always liked you,” he said. “You make Ramsey smile, but that’s not the only reason or even the main reason. You’re smart. You’re witty. You’re fun as hell to hang with. You’ve always been a good friend, and even though it meant I got Ramsey, I didn’t like when the two of you split because it meant you were gone. But you’re not competition. These last few weeks have forced me to admit I love you, Violet.”

  The words sang to my heart, and pulled a similar declaration to the surface. I opened my mouth.

  Hunter pressed a thumb to my lips. “But I also won’t watch you destroy yourself, because you think it’s helpful to others.” He let me go.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hunter loved me.

  But he wanted to change me.

  No. He wanted to help me. If I let myself trip over the last few weeks, which I had to do to process this, I could see how bad things were. That this wasn’t the beginning of a downward slope, I’d been plummeting toward the bottom of a ravine of taking on way too much before the boiler failed at the shelter.

  I also saw Hunter, a bright spot of sanity and warmth in the midst of it all. Ramsey was there too. Just out of reach. I wanted more of both when I looked back, and when I looked forward.

  “I love you, too.” It was so much easier to say that than I expected. My heart fluttered just as much speaking the words as it did hearing them. “And I’m scared of making this change you’re talking about, but I’m terrified of staying on the path I’m on.”

  Hunter brushed his lips over mine. “I’m here for you. Everything I said stands.”

  “And Ramsey?” It was an unformed question. It could mean a million things to either of us. “Technically he and I are still broken up.”

  “He didn’t tell me what he’s doing in Vegas, but he promised it would fix things. I trust him. Can we go back to us?”

  We could. Now that I knew I wasn’t trading one guy for another. “Yes.”

  Hunter’s kiss was so tender, it was heartbreaking. Or the opposite. Was heartmending a thing? I was making it thing, because the cracks in mine were sealing and vanishing.

  His feathered kisses along my lips and face and neck stole my breath. I didn’t know what to do besides grip his shirt in both fists and hold on tight.

  Kisses blended into more. Tentative touches up my stomach, under my shirt. Groping through my bra and teasing my nipples as I stroked his erection through his slacks. It was a drawn out make-out session that put any I’d been a part of when I was younger to shame. This wasn’t desperate pawing, it was a methodical build-up of pleasure.

  Hunter pressed his lips to the hollow below my ear. “Do you remember what I said about fucking you?”

  “That you like it?”

  “Such an understatement. Memories of being buried inside you and wrapped around you haunt my dreams.”

  I flushed at the strength in his words. “You’re so poetic,” I said.

  “You expected anything else? I’m torn between spending the night devouring you, and the fact that we have someplace to be. If I ask you to join me in the shower, will it ruin your hair?”

  I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed ask me instead if I care. “I’d love to join you in the shower.”

  Hunter led me into the master suite bathroom, which made the one in my room look tiny. The large walk-in shower only took up a small corner of the room, and there was plenty of space for two behind the glass. He turned on the water, and we stripped off our clothes.

  He tested the water a few times before finally tugging me under the stream with him, and sliding the door shut to close us off from the rest of the world. He pressed his chest to my back to kiss along my shoulders and neck while he glided his hands up my stomach to cup my breasts.

  “You’ve raised the bar on foreplay.” My teasing was breathy. Each new touch was fresh and tantalizing.

  “You deserve that and more.”

  As the water sluiced over us, Hunter glided his hands along my every curve, teasing and caressing until I was slick from the build-up.

  He slipped his fingers between my legs, teasing my pussy, then hooked his hand under my knee to plant my foot on the seat in the corner. Yeah, he had a built-in seat in his shower.

  I leaned forward as he dragged the head of his cock along my ass cheek, and then my slit. He penetrated me with a long groan that sent a shiver of delight through me. He didn’t move inside me, though.

  The water stopped striking my skin, and a moment later, he was holding the shower head between my legs. “Tell me when I hit the right spot,” he said.

  I guided the pulsating water into place, and a shudder ran through me as the steady stream hit my clit.

  “Hold this in place.” Hunter handed me the shower nozzle. He gripped my hips, and then he was pounding inside me. Hard. Fast. Digging his fingers into my water-slicked skin.

  The combination of sensations built fast, after the slow path we’d taken to get here, and my body tensed in anticipation. Every muscle coiled, waiting for release. Needing it.

  And then orgasm crashed around me, from my core, from Hunter’s frantic pace. From everywhere. I clenched around his cock, lost in the pleasure, and milking him.

  “Fuck, Violet.” He squeezed me harder. The pounding reached frenetic, even as I let the shower nozzle fall away. Hunter spilled inside me, his groan loud and intoxicating when he came.

  As he slowed to a stop, neither of us moved for several moments. Water struck our shins. He pressed his lips into my shoulder and pulled me back into him.

  “You’re incredible in so many ways, Violet.”

  I leaned more weight against him. “I could say the same to you. Don’t take this wrong, but you’re officially my favorite mistake.”

  “I love it.” He laughed.

  We took our time soaping up and rinsing each other clean. It was hard to move quickly when every other touch was followed up with a kiss. We finally managed to step out of the shower, and get ready for the evening.

  The drive there passed in a haze of me thinking about how amazing this was. I almost managed to ignore the nagging voice reminding me I needed this with Ramsey, too, to feel complete. Did that make me greedy? I didn’t care. I wanted them both anyway.

  Tonight’s fundraiser was in another convention room, in another hotel. The only thing that distinguished most of these from each other was the color of the tablecloths. Pink this time—a perfect match to my flush every time I thought about Hunter.

  I clung to him from the moment we arrived. We looked like the perfect, loving couple. It came naturally to have him whispering in my ear. To laugh at his comments. To exchange little kisses. Tonight it was because of this fresh commitment we had, but even before, it felt right to be close to him. To fall into this role.

  It took more than an hour for both us and Ramsey to be free enough to approach each other. As the three of us headed toward a less crowded part of the room, Debbie joined Ramsey.

  If she pulled him away for hours again, I’d be so furious. I didn’t care whether or not I had the right to be.

  It didn’t look like she was saying anything to him, but his flat expression spoke volumes given he’d been smiling and laughing all night.

  “I need to speak with the three of you,” Debbie said as soon as Hunter and I were within hearing range. “It’s not a request.”

  Bossy much?

  Ramsey gave a terse nod. “All right.”

  Did he know what was going on? This wasn’t his surprise was it? If so, it was off to a shitty start.

  We followed Debbie down the hallway, to an empty conference room. She flipped on a switch, which illuminated just enough space to make things eerie, and closed the door behind us.

  “What?” Ramsey asked sharply.

  Debbie was focused on me, with a disgust in her gaze that made my skin crawl. “I can’t believe you’re a part of this,” she said. “This marriage is a scam, and that’s the least horrible thing about what’s going on here. It’s bad enough that Ramsey is hiding that he’s fucking another man. But you? Absolutely disgusting that you’d demean yourself to hide their secret, given who you are. Do the kids at that shelter know?”

  “Excuse me?” I could match disgust with anger, and then raise the ante to fury. “Did you—”

  Ramsey settled a hand on my arm, and silenced me with a look.

  “My personal life is none of your fucking business.” His voice was hard.

  “It is if you want to win this race, and the next one.” Debbie stepped closer until she was in Ramsey’s face. “This is the kind of bullshit behavior that makes losers, and I will not work for someone who’s not interested in being the best.”

  Ramsey’s expression went flat. “I see.” His voice was stony. I’d rarely seen him like this—so furious he’d bottled the rage to use for later. “You’re right, Debbie.” There was no intonation in his voice. He was half a step from being a computerized voice. “I’ll handle things tonight, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

  Debbie blinked several times—was she surprised or something else? “Okay. I’ll prepare a press re—”

  “You won’t do anything. We’ll talk in the morning means we’ll talk in the morning, and in the meantime, you’ll keep all of your employment agreements in mind.” Ramsey opened the door. “I assume you can find your own way back to the event.”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  So that was what it took to shut up Debbie.

  As she left, Hunter let out a long puff of air. “Wow.”

  Ramsey’s chuckle was strained. “I’m done for the night. Think anyone would notice if we cut out early?”

  “It’s not your event,” Hunter said. “No one will care.”

  “Are you sure she won’t talk tonight?” How was I the only one worried about things falling apart if we walked away?

  Ramsey nodded. “If she does, every Miller lawyer in the universe will be riding her ass. But worse, no one will let her work their campaign again. The exposing us threat is a bluff.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’ve been watching this game play out far longer than I care for. Meet back at your place?” Ramsey looked between us.

  Because it was our place. Hunter’s and mine. The drive home would have been tense, if Hunter hadn’t settled his hand on mine every chance he got.

  Ramsey was already inside when we arrived. I wasn’t surprised he had a key, but I did wonder how he got here so much sooner than we did. Hard to shave even a few minutes off a fifteen minute drive.

  The instant Hunter closed the door, Ramsey crossed the room in a few long strides, grabbed a fistful of Hunter’s shirt, and yanked him close, crushing their mouths together. They radiated desire and adoration.

  I’d never watched anything hotter.

  They broke apart with a duet of groans, but didn’t move away from each other. Ramsey slid his hand to the back of Hunter’s head, holding the two of them together. “I can’t keep this up,” Ramsey growled. “Two weeks is too long. There’s no way I can stay away from you for nine months.”

  “Same.” Hunter’s reply was a bittersweet blend of need and sadness.

  I should feel like an intruder right now. An interloper in an otherwise beautiful connection, but instead I was grateful to be a part of it. This didn’t make me doubt what I had with either of them, and it reminded me they trusted me enough to let me be a part of it.

  Still, it left my lips lonely and reminded me that Ramsey and I had a massive unresolved issue that kept us from having that.

  Ramsey trailed his fingers forward to Hunter’s jaw, brushing over his lips before finally dropping the touch and turning to me.

 

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