“Good thing, because I already married her.” Nash grinned.
“I still can’t believe that. This is all so crazy.” I crawled off their laps, ready for a shower.
I wanted—so much—to believe things could just be this easy. That I could follow this good feeling straight into my future. Live with two men. Stay in West Springs. Teach kindergarten.
Could it be that easy? Did people fall in love from a glance across a room? Was there really such a thing as love at first sight? Times two?
It seemed too good to be true. I had a niggling sense there was something off. Something strange. They’d shared infertility and their bodies and their feelings, but there were things they hadn’t told me. Something I didn’t understand. Cord had pretty much admitted there was more to the picture than he’d explained.
Because it didn’t make sense that two strangers would come together with sudden and total willingness to share me. Me!
For life. Yes, it was my fault we’d gotten married, but it had been a lie. Like pretending to date someone. A fake fiancé, like in those romance stories. The marriage could be annulled, but no one could doubt we’d faked what we’d just done.
My phone buzzed from the kitchen, and I scurried in there to pick it up. I wasn’t embarrassed being naked in front of Cord and Nash, but I wasn’t interested in being seen through his big kitchen windows, so I dashed back into the bedroom. Cord was sitting on the edge of the bed. Nash hadn’t moved. I glanced down at the screen. Fourteen messages from Chester.
Ugh. My dad must have given him the number. Great.
A thread of anxiety twisted in my gut. What if Nash and Cord knew about my inheritance, too? What if the reason they’d agreed so quickly to share me was because they’d made an arrangement to split it?
No.
I was the one who’d claimed I was married to Nash. That hadn’t been his idea, and neither of them had expected Chester to appear. I didn’t get the sense either cared about the money. Neither one had even asked about it. Cord had said they had enough to take care of me, but I didn’t want to become that trophy wife. I could have been that back in California.
Still, I needed to be careful. I believed there was another piece to this puzzle and until I knew what it was, I probably needed to guard my heart. Because dealing with Chester was one thing. I didn’t love him. But these two rugged, sexy cowboys? It seemed I did.
16
NASH
“What’s the matter, beautiful?” I asked.
She was staring at her phone, and whatever she saw wasn’t making her happy. That was fucking wrong.
No way was anything from the outside world ruining this time. After what we just did, she should be tucked in our arms or passed out. Since she was neither—
“Chester,” she muttered.
Fuck. Killing him was becoming a more likely scenario because the dumbass didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. While I understood his obsession with Rachel—I was gone for her, too—she didn’t want him. She’d made it clear, more than once.
A guy who didn’t take no for an answer was an asshole. A dangerous one. While Chester was a weak little weasel, he was bigger and stronger than Rachel. Had anger fueling him too. Good thing she had two shifter males to protect her now.
Cord grabbed his jeans from the floor and tugged them on. “He called?”
“And texted,” she replied, taking a deep breath. I didn’t miss the way her tits rose and fell. “A lot.”
Fuck.
I climbed from the bed and grabbed her phone. When she looked up at me with wide eyes, I realized my mistake and held it up. “Sorry. Can I see what he sent?”
She nodded and I scrolled through the texts, then moved to her voicemail and hit Play on the first one.
“You’re being rebellious. I understand. I had a little wild streak after college too. You’ll come to your senses soon enough.”
Cord raised a brow, and I knew we were thinking the same thing about Chester’s message. Would Rachel come to her senses and change her mind about us?
Gibson had told us—ordered us—to mark her and claim her. We were working to win her over to the idea of an ‘us.’ Did that make us like her ex?
I stabbed the Play button for the second voicemail.
“We’re not done, Rachel. I don’t give a shit if you’re married to that fucking country yahoo. You’re mine, and that’s never going to change.”
Cord popped to his feet. I growled and gripped the cell so hard, I felt it crack. He snatched it from my hand.
“I think that’s enough of those,” he said, being the sane one.
I glanced at Rachel, who’d gone pale. No matter my feelings about the fucker, she came first. She didn’t need me to be an overbearing asshole. She already had one of those in her life.