Triplets Make Five

“Then we’ll have to go back to talking about you doing this job with him. Is that what you’d rather talk about?”

I groaned. “Do I really have to do it?”

“You don’t have to,” he replied, “but I sure would appreciate it. I would be your slave for life.”

“Ooo, goody!”

“Come on, Vic,” he chided. “you already said you would. What could possibly go wrong?”

I harrumphed. “You have no idea. With Brady around, anything could go wrong.”

“There you go again.”

“I do have other things to do besides running your errands, you know. You and Mandy aren’t the only people with jobs.”

“Brady has the highest stress job of any of us, and he jumped at the chance to help with the band.”

“I’ll bet he did,” I grumbled.

“Please. Pretty please with sugar on top. Do it for me because you love me so much.”

“Oh, you’re impossible. All right. I’m writing you into my schedule, so that should show you how much you mean to me.”

“Thanks. You’re the best. I gotta go now. See you on Sunday.”

I hung up, but I couldn’t stop staring at the calendar. Two whole months since I saw Brady at that engagement party. Two whole months since we did it. Two whole months since my world turned upside down. Two whole months since I....

I froze. Then I turned back a page to last month and another page to the month before. There was the engagement party marked in a big highlighter heart on my calendar. There, in the week before, five tiny ink crosses marked the days of that month, that fateful month two months ago, when I had my last period.

Shit. I didn’t have to look a second time at the other pages in between. I already knew what they meant. I hadn’t had a period since that day?

?since that day I nailed Brady in the closet at my uncle’s house.

I tossed the calendar under my desk, so I wouldn’t have to look at it anymore. It didn’t mean anything anyway. So, I was late. So, what? The stress of planning somebody else’s wedding and the tension of meeting Brady again must have made me late. No big deal. Nothing to panic about.

That last time at his place after the tasting sure was nice, though. I spent the night with him, just the way he wanted me to. Don’t get me wrong. I wanted to, too, and we had a nice long talk about things the next morning before he took me home. We agreed to keep it casual, even though we both acknowledged we couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other. With Charlie getting married, there was no sense getting mixed up in anything serious.

What could possibly go wrong, I asked? I could get pregnant. That’s what could go wrong. We were both too hot for each other ever to think about birth control. I hadn’t seen the hottest lover of my life in seven years. We both got swept up in the heat of the moment. Who thinks about birth control at a time like that?

Not us, apparently. Apparently, birth control was the last thing on either of our minds the other times, too, because no one mentioned it. Every time Charlie or Mandy couldn’t make it and asked us to work together to do some wedding-related task, it always turned into a free-for-all—an unprotected free-for-all.

Now here I was, two months later without a period. What would happen if I really got pregnant? Getting pregnant would be one thing. Getting pregnant with Brady Townsend? That would be another thing altogether.

Heaven knew he could pay for it. I found that out over the last several weeks of seeing him. He had more money than God. I didn’t even want to think about how he got it, but I had already known. He was razor sharp when it came to business. I heard him on the phone with his agent and his team a few times. Man, I wouldn’t want to cross swords with that guy over a lucrative commercial contract. Just being in the same room with him during those phone calls made my palms sweat. No wonder he got what he wanted. Anybody who was anybody caved at his feet and did exactly what he wanted, and I did the same thing.

I remembered last time. Charlie asked us to meet Sam and Helena, Mandy’s maid of honor, to finalize plans for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. The two parties were supposed to be separate, even though everybody was driving to Vegas together and staying at the same hotel. Of course, Charlie and Mandy couldn’t know anything about it, so they delegated Brady and me as their designated representatives.

After Sam and Helena left and Brady escorted me to his car to take me home, he just started the motor when he got a call. I didn’t understand half of what he said, but when he hung up, he glanced over and saw me staring at him. “What?”

I shuddered. “Is it always like that?”

“Always like what?”

“Always like you cracking the whip and making them sit up and beg.”

He leaned across the seat. “I’ll crack the whip and make you sit up and beg if you don’t behave yourself.”

I felt my core get hot as the inside of my thighs got wet. Everything was a sexual invitation to him. He knew he could make me crawl at his feet with the snap of his fingers. He knew he could order me to my knees, and the harder that glint in his eye flashed, the more turned on and complacent I would be.