Goldie and the Three Wisconsin Bears

“I know, right,” Mitch says with a smirk.

But his eyes become a little softer when he looks down at me, still lying on the bed. “C’mon, babe. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

I’m a curvy girl. So much ass and breasts, I couldn’t do any of the top of the pole tricks the skinnier dancers at Magic Peaches were known for. But Mitch picks me up like I weigh nothing.

“Night, Saint Nic,” he says as he carries me out of the room.

“I can’t believe you won. I hate you right now, man,” Nico answers from the bed.

Mitch just laughs.

When we get back into the hallway, I notice that Jeb’s door, which was open when I first returned to Nico’s bedroom, is now closed.

Mitch must notice too.

When we get to Jeb’s door, he shifts me deeper into the cradle of his arms to knock on it and say, “Night, Jeb.”

No answer.

And for some reason, that makes Mitch laugh even harder as he carries me the rest of the way down the hall.

Chapter Nine

After Mitch sets me down in his bathroom, I’m pleasantly surprised to find all my hair products waiting for me on his bathroom counter.

“I brought them in for you after I dropped off your car at the mechanic,” Mitch says, following my gaze. “Figured you’d need them for your extensions.”

“Thank you!” I say, so grateful that I’ll be able to wash my hair while I’m here.

“No problem. You need a shower cap too? I got a few plastic ones in my hotel toiletries bag.’

I widen my eyes at him.

“What?” he asks off my quizzical look.

“Usually, guys who look like you don’t know so much about black hair?” I answer.

Mitch smirks. “Oh, I know all about weaves and braids and naturals. I dated a lot of black women in high school and at UW-Madison before I settled into my arrangement with Nico. And back during our hotel days, I usually opted for brown when it was my turn to pick the weekend entertainment.”

I’m not sure how to feel about that. Or if I even should be having feelings about that as the so-called “entertainment.”

“What?” he says again as he hands me a plastic shower cap.

I put my next question as carefully as I can. “So, black girls are like your fetish on top of sharing with your foster brothers?”

He shrugs. “Some of the guys on my team date blonds exclusively. I guess I’m the same way with hot black women. Plus, I’ve found they’re less likely to be into anything harder than weed.”

“I don’t even tolerate weed,” I admit. “I smoked it once in college, then never again because it made me talk too much.”

He reaches through the glass door to flip on the shower. “There you go then. Good thing because Jeb doesn’t like women who talk too much.”

I grimace, “No, I talk a lot. That’s why it’s too dangerous to smoke weed. I’d never shut up.”

Now he really cracks up.

And it’s my turn to say, “What?”

“That’s why Nico doesn’t smoke, too,” Mitch answers. “You two are really going to get along.”

Yeah, I’d already sensed that. It’s super easy to talk to him, like we’re old friends who just happened to meet up again yesterday. We clicked from the start. And now here I am, chatting just as easily with Mitch. The cold one I thought would be all business when we first met. That gives me a moment of disquiet.

“You good?” Mitch asks, stepping into the shower.

“I’m great,” I lie immediately. I mean, what else can I say. That sex you’re paying me fifty thousand for is amazing. Too amazing. I’m scared to death I’m going to start liking you more than I should, even though I know I’m just a stop gap while you guys search for a wife. A good woman—not a pregnant stripper on the run from her ex.

I keep my tone cheery, but his blue grey eyes scan my face. And his expression isn’t relaxed anymore. It’s back to sharp and suspicious. I swallow, silently begging him to let it go.

In the end, he says, “I’m no Nico, but I get this is probably weird for you. The three of us…that’s a lot. If you’re having problems, tell Nico, okay? He’s good at that personal stuff. It’s easy to talk to him. Even for me.”

I nod, touched that he cares enough about my feelings to delegate them to Nico. He seemed so stiff before—I mean as hot as sex with him and Nico was earlier, it was still highly protocolled. I had a feeling he’s a lot like the rows of Tesla solar panels he showed me earlier, sleek, efficient, and singularly focused. But now he’s showing me a more intimate side of himself. I like it. A little too much.

But getting too intimate with these guys outside the bedroom isn’t a good idea. Instead of thinking about how much I don’t hate this quiet moment with Mitch, I busy myself with tucking my hair under the cap. Then I let Mitch pull me into the shower with him.