Read What She Needs: Cape May, Book 3 Online
Authors: Anne Rainey
Tags: #Red Hots!, #Contemporary Romance
Gage chuckled. “Thanks.” He took the empty seat to the left of Summer. “You ladies looked like you were pretty deep in conversation. Did I interrupt something important?”
We were talking about tying Con to the bed.
Tory’s face heated. “Er, just girl talk,” she answered.
Gage shrugged and turned his gaze toward Summer. “You know, baby, Valentine’s Day is right around the corner. And it’s our first.”
Summer smiled and Tory found herself smiling right along with her. “I know. I’ve already bought your present.”
Gage leaned across the table and whispered, “Does it involve lace and satin?”
Summer placed her palm against his cheek. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Gage took hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm before releasing her and sitting back. “I’m looking forward to it.” He looked at their half-empty plates and added, “Looks like I missed lunch. Sorry. Time got away from me.”
Summer waved a hand in the air. “It’s fine. It gave me a chance to catch up with Tory.”
“In that case, do you mind if I head over to the mall?”
15
Anne Rainey
Tory watched Summer’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Depends,” she said.
Gage’s face split into a grin. “On?”
“What are you buying at the mall?”
Gage picked up Summer’s unused butter knife and started twirling it around. “Uh-uh. If you aren’t telling, then neither am I.”
“Not even a little hint?”
Tory took another sip of her soda and watched the display, feeling a little like a voyeur.
“Give me one and I’ll give you one,” Gage growled. “It’s only fair, baby.”
“Okay. My gift involves…leather.”
Gage dropped the knife. “Leather?”
Summer and Tory both laughed. “Yep,” Summer replied. “Now you.”
Gage stood and stepped near Summer. He leaned close and whispered something into her ear. Tory was dying to know what. He straightened and sent a wink toward Tory before striding out of the restaurant.
Summer merely sat, motionless. After several seconds drifted by with no sound coming from her friend, it became more than Tory could take. “Okay, spill it, woman. What’d he say?”
“I, he…wow.”
Tory reached across the table and smacked her stupefied friend on the arm. “You are killing me here!”
“He said my gift involves a lock and key.” Summer’s face turned such a deep shade of red Tory thought she’d have to call for help.
Tory’s mind spun with possibilities, and there was only one logical conclusion. “Whoa. He totally bought you handcuffs, didn’t he?”
“Either that or a jewelry box. And trust me, Gage isn’t the jewelry box type of guy.” A grin slowly spread across her face. “Handcuffs will go quite nicely with the leather bustier I bought today.”
“Sexy, intelligent and adventurous. I’d say he’s a keeper, Summer.”
Summer laughed so loud several other customers turned and stared. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
16
After Tory had left for her shopping trip, Con had thought to get a few things done from his home office. Two pathetic hours later and he hadn’t done anything more than stare out in space. He sat back in his chair and watched the numbers on the computer screen. Stocks were up. He should be thrilled. Instead he was miserable. The image of seeing Devon wrapped around Tory earlier that morning still ate at him.
Damned if he could figure out why. He’d gone into this relationship with his eyes wide-open, hadn’t he?
Devon and Con both loved Tory. They’d shared women in the past and it’d been great. The best part, Tory was more than happy to be shared. So why was he suddenly fantasizing about kicking Devon out of the happy little picture?
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Con looked up from his desk to see Devon striding into the room. By the looks of him, he was good and pissed. Damn. Con had known this was coming and he’d dreaded it. “If you’re here to bitch at me, then get to it. I’m busy.”
Devon crossed the room until he stood on the other side of the desk, fists clenched at his sides. “Bitch at you? You upset Tory, Con. You booked Cancun without talking to me. And unless I’m mistaken, you looked ready to land a fist in my face this morning when you came out of the bathroom. So, I repeat, what the hell is wrong?”
Con scrubbed his hands over his face. He was frustrated with Devon and pissed at himself for being a complete ass. The hell of it was, Devon had it right. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dev.”
“Don’t give me the same bullshit you fed Tory this morning. I know you. You were jealous when you saw the two of us together on the bed. What I want to know is, why?”
Con stared back at his friend, his best friend. They’d been through some serious shit together. They’d both grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but they’d worked their asses off and it’d paid off. They were successful and in love. What could be better?
To have Tory all for myself.
No, that wasn’t right. What Devon and Con had with Tory was good. It was whole. Wasn’t it?
Shoving that nagging question aside, Con said, “You’re right. I was jealous. I’ll deal with it.”
Devon frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Will you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks as if you’d be as happy as a fucking clam if I were out of the picture.” Devon planted his hands on the desk and leaned close. “I love Tory as much as you. I’m not letting her go.”
Anne Rainey
For a moment, Con was too shocked to speak. He could count on one hand the amount of times Devon had gotten up in his face about something. Hell, the man was always so friggin’ calm it bordered on annoying. “Christ, relax, will you? I never asked you to do anything. It was just a momentary lapse. I’m over it.”
Devon pushed away from the desk and took two steps backward. “You’re over it, huh? Then you won’t mind if I surprise Tory with a trip to Aruba for Valentine’s Day?”
Every muscle in Con’s body tensed. “What did you say?”
“The three of us in Aruba. I’m thinking of booking the trip today. In fact, maybe you should go ahead and cancel the trip to Cancun. Or go alone. Take your pick.”
Con shot to his feet and moved around the desk, a red haze of anger flooding his brain. “I already told you and Tory this morning. The flight is booked. The room is reserved. We’re going to Cancun.”
“And I told you it wasn’t your call alone to make. Tory isn’t yours. She’s ours. Get that through your thick skull.”
“So, what, now we’re going to make her choose between your trip and mine? That’s juvenile, damn it!”
“All I know is that I’m damn tired of seeing that look on your face when it comes to her.”
Con threw up his hands and shouted, “What look?”
“You want her for yourself. It’s so obvious it’s not even funny.”
Jesus, he really was transparent. “I never said that,” he hedged.
Devon pointed a finger at him. “You want me away from her,” he ground out. “Admit it, God damn you!”
Fury had Con speaking without thinking. “Fine! I want her for myself! I see you with her and my blood boils. I see her touching you and it makes me want to hit something. Are you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”
Devon shook his head. “No, Con, I’m not happy.”
Con cursed. He’d seen that look on his friend’s face only once before. They’d been nineteen, working dead-end jobs and trying to make ends meet. Con had come home to their shit apartment in a bad mood one night. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what had set it off. He’d taken it out on Devon, though. The final straw had been when Con had punched him in the face. He’d broken Devon’s nose. Devon had looked hurt—and not just physically.
“Look, man, I’m sorry,” Con muttered. “I’ll get my shit together, I promise.”
Devon didn’t look convinced. “You know this can’t work if we’re not both in it one hundred percent, right?”
Con shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. He was wrecking everything. Con Walker, always the screw-up. “I know, I know.”
18
What She Needs
“So, maybe we should do like we did at Christmas.”
Con stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“We leave the decision to Tory.”
“You really want her to choose between us? That’s not fair to Tory, and you know it.”
Devon shook his head and looked down at the floor. Con found himself holding his breath. When Devon’s gaze came back up to meet his, he could swear his eyes were a little too bright, a little too watery.
“I’m not trying to get all sappy here.”
“But?”
“I care about you. Like a brother. That will never change.”
“Same here, Dev.” Con stepped forward, a sense of foreboding skating down his spine. Devon put up a hand in warning, effectively stopping Con in his tracks.
“I know you, Con. You aren’t going to get over this.” Con started to argue, but Devon rode right over him. “You want Tory and you want me gone. I can’t walk away. I can’t give her up—not unless it’s what she wants.”
How had things gone from great to shit so damn fast? This was a new record for him. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Then we need to figure out a way to make this work. For all of us.”
Con had racked his brain trying to think of some way to get over his growing possessiveness toward Tory—and he’d come up blank. “Got any suggestions? Because I’m fresh out of ideas here.”
Devon quirked a brow. “Actually, I do have a suggestion.”
For the first time in weeks, Con felt a spark of hope. “I’m all ears. Spill.”
“Not yet.”
“What the hell do you mean,
not yet
?” Con cursed under his breath. “My life is spinning out of control and you want to play twenty questions?”
“I’ll tell you and Tory at the same time. She should be kept in the loop here. We can’t make decisions like this without her.”
“Christ. Just give me a clue here. I’m drowning.”
“No, you can wait and hear my idea when Tory gets home. But, I can tell you that I’m not going to book the trip to Aruba.”
When Devon turned to leave, Con had the sinking feeling he’d lost something. Something he might never get back. “Devon,” Con called out.
Without turning around, Devon asked, “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Devon mumbled. Without another word, he left.
19
Anne Rainey
Con wasn’t sure how long he stood in the middle of the room, staring at the empty doorway. When he heard the front door open and close, it pulled him out of his misery. He crossed the room and sat in the brown leather couch adjacent to the desk. Was he really going to have to choose between the woman he loved and his best friend? No. Devon had figured something out. Whatever it was it would be a solution that would benefit all three of them. Devon was good at fixing things. Con was good at fucking up.
When they’d hatched their little plan to finally make Tory their own, it’d seemed so perfect. They’d both wanted her. Both knew, even then, that they were in love with her. At first it’d been bliss. Making love to her, sharing their nights wrapped around her. Waking up with her nestled between them. Even her snoring made him smile. There had been a few bumps in the road, but nothing big, nothing life-altering.
He wasn’t even sure when the first spark of jealousy had appeared. Not that it mattered, because it was a full-on blaze now. The only question left unanswered: Could he really choose between the love of his life and his best friend?
20
Tory sat on the couch in the living room, staring at the two men in her life, unable to fully grasp what Devon was saying. “Let me get this straight. You want us to set up a sex schedule?” How had things gotten so wonky? All she’d done was go shopping, for crying out loud!
Con chuckled, but Tory noticed the dark look Devon sent him shut him up pretty quick. Devon sat on the couch next to her. Only a few feet of space separated them. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt.
Sexy, and so close she could smell his aftershave. Spicy and all male. That was her Devon, ever the enticement.
“I know it sounds…”
When Devon stalled out, Tory happily filled in the blank. “Unromantic?” she offered. “Weird?
Downright screwy?
“No pun intended,” Con mumbled under his breath.
Devon slammed a palm against his jean-covered thigh and ground out, “You are not fucking helping here, Con.”
He merely shrugged. “Sorry, dude, but I thought you had some big plan. This isn’t much of a plan.”
Con stood across the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Dang, the man was hot. Tory would never get tired of looking at him. His midnight black hair was all messy, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Con did that whenever he was worried or agitated about something. Since it was Saturday, he hadn’t bothered to put anything on over his black boxers. No shirt, barefoot and looking good enough to eat. Tory tamped down the urge to go to him, take him in her arms and kiss the smirk right off his gorgeous face.
“It’s more than you had, isn’t it?” Devon said, instantly piquing Tory’s curiosity.
“Yeah,” Con muttered, staring at the ceiling. “It’s a hell of a lot more than what I had.”
“Exactly. So, maybe you can help me out here a little.”
Tory had heard enough. “I want to know right now what the two of you are up to.” A horrible thought struck. “Does this have anything to do with this morning?”
Con moved away from the wall. With each step closer, his frown grew fiercer. “Not just this morning.”
Anne Rainey
Tory’s stomach knotted. “What’s wrong, Con? Talk to me.”
Please, please let it be jealousy.
Anything would be preferable to him getting tired of her. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing either man.
Devon scooted closer and threw his arm over the back of the couch. “It would seem that Con isn’t real keen on seeing you intimate with me. It’s eating at him.”