The Wayward Sister (The Wayward Sons 5)

Adrian: I was a little distracted this morning.

Distracted was an understatement. He’d joined me in the shower and by the time he left I was in a complete and utter post-sex fog. By the time we’d both made each other a shuddering mess, my brain as well as my body was made of jelly. I had no problem believing he’d forgotten his key.

I walk out of the bedroom and down the hall. I catch a glimpse of him out the window in the front door. I smile and lean back against the way, still typing.

Sierra: I don’t know. I’m a little busy.

The little dots bubble at the bottom of the screen, telling me he’s replying. My heart flip flops when he replies.

Adrian: I brought pizza.

Sierra: Pizza? I’m listening…

Adrian: Yes, and I know you could use some help painting the room…

Sierra: You’re offering to help?

Adrian: Well, Holden is.

I push off the wall and head to the door, turning the bolt. The two men I’d welcomed in my home, and into my bed, stand outside, holding pizza and beer.

“You didn’t mention the beer,” I say, taking the box of pizza. The scent hits my nose and my mouth starts to water.

I put them straight to work; painting, eating pizza, and drinking beer at the same time. Multi-tasking is something I learned at the Wayward Sun.

With full bellies and the music cranked up, the squeaking rollers and the sound of tape ripping into strips signals our progress. We make our way around the room and I find myself in the corner, can of paint at my feet, walls finished on either side. I look around and see Holden and Adrian, both making their way toward me. Adrian is up on a ladder, reaching over my head to get the final section, just under the trim.

“Oh shit,” he says, just before a cool drop of paint lands on my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

I reach up to catch it before it rolls down my face. Holden lunges toward me, holding a cloth.

“I’ve got it,” he says, one hand cupping the back of my neck, and wiping off the paint. I hear Adrian come down off the creaky ladder and he stands behind me.

“Got it?”

“Yeah,” Holden says, inches away. Close enough for me to smell his warm, soapy scent.

His eyes flick over my shoulder and then back to mine. He leans in and kisses me. I kiss him back. It’s the first time we’ve done that in front of Adrian.

I look over and see approval on Adrian’s face.

Every nerve in my body twinges with anticipation. I’m not sure what’s going on here, if this was planned, or just a coincidence. My body wants to know, as evidenced by my stomach fluttering nervously; a bundle of twitchy, excited, panicked nerves.

There’s a moment of tension, pulled taut like a tight rope. Holden reaches forward and wipes my forehead again. “I’m going to go clean this up.”

I exhale as he leaves the room, my eyes glued to his broad shoulders. I haven’t forgotten Adrian is still behind me and when he slips an arm around my waist it’s like my whole body is about to combust.

“You look like you may have a panic attack,” he says, kissing the shell of my ear.

“I do?” I ask, knowing it’s the truth. “I know this is what I wanted, both of you, but together…”

“If it’s too much, we can forget it. Forever. Or put it on pause. H and I talked about it on the drive home, it’s something we’re comfortable with, if you are.”

“To be honest, I feel like I’m leaving one person out—an important person. If we do this and without a conversation with Smith, is he going to be pissed?”

“What if I told you we had a conversation with him.”

My body warms, from the conversation and his closeness. “Did you?”