“I learned a long time ago I’d have to live with those decisions. I just don’t feel like Amber should have to have my past tarnish her future.” I looked around the backyard, feeling confident we made the right decision.
Lea took my hand and squeezed. “She’s going to love it.”
“I hope so. I just want her to be happy,” I looked over my shoulder at the three boys working diligently to make everything perfect for our friend, “like I am.”
The pre-wedding dinner, thank god, ran smoothly. After too much dessert and too many drinks, I gave Ginger the key to my apartment. She wanted to follow tradition, staying away from Amber for the night. I was happy to give her some space and just settle in at Oliver’s.
Back at his house, buzzed on drinks and the relief of pulling off a last-minute venue change, I kicked off my shoes and changed out of my dress. I pulled on an oversized Allendale baseball shirt and walked downstairs, where I could hear the boys on the patio. As much as we needed time to reconnect as a group, they were life-long friends and needed time to be together. It was sweet how much they loved one another. Sexy. Their commitment to one another was the foundation of our relationship.
It was why we worked then and why we may have a shot at the future.
Barefoot, I stepped out on the back patio, getting an eyeful of my men. I still called them boys but that was nothing but habit. They were men, in size, strength, and emotion. That fact gave me a little thrill, one that slowly inched up my spine. I watched them for a minute, relaxed and lounging on the comfortable furniture. They shared inside jokes, laughing off the stress of the day. They were sexy in their disheveled clothing; ties tossed aside, shirts casually unbuttoned and rolled at the sleeves. Jackson’s blue button-down made his eyes bright even in the shaded room, and Anderson sat with his legs sprawled in front of him, hands supporting the back of his neck. Oliver looked more at ease than I’d seen him in months, the corners of his eyes crinkled with laugh lines. My stomach twisted at the sight of them, their camaraderie and closeness.
Things had shifted for us in the last twenty-four hours. Hayden’s absence was noted, painful, but some of that subsided when I looked at how Anderson had easily joined back in the group.
He must have sensed my gaze, because his focus shifted across the patio.
“Hey,” he said, and suddenly all of their eyes were on me, taking in my bare legs and the shirt that claimed them all.
“Hi.” I walked across the stone floor, feeling Jackson’s gaze sweep over my bare legs. “I think I’m headed to bed.”
“Good idea, it’s been a long day.” Oliver was the closest and he laid a hand on the back of my thigh. “Tomorrow will be just as long.”
He tugged me down on his lap and I succumbed, stretching my legs across the space where Jackson took them in his hands. I relaxed and said, “Amber’s mom is going full mother-of-the-bride with hair, makeup, nails…the whole process.”
“At least you get a day off the makeup, right? Lea’s coming to help?”
“She is, although I’m probably going to do Amber’s anyway.”
Oliver’s hand was on my hip, the baseball shirt bunched up. I felt his fingertips on my skin and Jackson rubbed my feet. I sighed, leaning back into Oliver, fitting perfectly into his chest. From the wicker armchair across from us, Anderson observed quietly.
Jackson’s eyes flicked to his friend, a little smile on his lips. He leaned forward, bending my leg and kissing the cap of my knee. He made his way to my mouth, kissing me slowly while Oliver held me in his arms, stroking my legs with his fingertips. Jackson’s lips tasted like chocolate icing, tinged with bourbon, and I licked his tongue seductively, intentionally, to catch Anderson’s attention. Something we most certainly had.
“Good night, babe,” Jackson said, not pushing it further. This was about giving Anderson a taste of what to expect. He stood and let his fingers drift across my leg, fist bumping both his friends on the way out.
Oliver placed his own goodnight kisses down my neck, including sucking slow along my collarbone.
“You want eggs or pancakes in the morning?” he asked.
“Eggs. Pancakes will make me bloated and I’ll never fit in that dress.”
“Not true, but whatever you want.”
I snuggled into his chest and he ran a hand up and down my back, exposing my panties to Anderson, who I noticed shifted uneasily in his seat. Nerves? Arousal? I wasn’t sure. His jaw was locked tight and his eyes carried a cool glint. Oliver lifted me off his lap, placing me on the seat next to him, making sure his hands touched as many parts of my body in the process. Staking his claim, no doubt, even while sharing.
“Love you,” he whispered, just for me to hear. I said it back just as quietly.
And then Anderson and I were alone, sitting across from one another. My body hummed from the gentle touches of the other men, my heart raced out of fear for what Anderson would do or say.
His green eyes blazed in the shadowy patio, only lit by torches near the door. The smooth skin of his chest peeked out of his unbuttoned shirt. I’d missed him terribly—physically and emotionally—and the few feet separating us felt like miles.
“Was that—” I started, wanting to know if he was okay with the actions between me, Oliver and Jackson.
“That was fine,” he replied gruffly.
“It was?” I straightened up; his eyes fell to my legs.
He didn’t move, prolongin