Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 862(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“All right. Show’s over.” Wolf claps his hands and pulls me into the hall. “Back to bed, you crazy kids. Don’t make it weird.”
“You made it weird,” Leo calls after us.
Back down the stairs, we go, my hand still in his. The silence settles again, broken only by the creak of the house and the hum of appliances.
We hit the kitchen. It’s warm, glowing with soft light. He opens the fridge as if this is the most normal thing in the world.
“What was that?” I tug on my dress, unsure what to do.
“My family.” He pulls out leftovers, stacking the containers on the huge island.
“In one bed?”
“They’ve been through hell, and fourgies are their therapy. It’s how they keep it together.”
“Trauma bonding with benefits?”
“Foursome is the dreamsome. I’m not part of that.” He gestures at a door off the kitchen. “There’s a bathroom if you want to change. Do you need something to wear?”
“I have clothes.”
And questions.
So many questions.
When I don’t move, he guides me into the small guest bathroom and spins me away. Then a tug jerks me back. And another. And another.
He’s unlacing my bodice.
I clutch the material as it loosens and droops, relief flooding through me.
“Shout if you need anything.” He steps out, shutting the door behind him.
I change into a camisole and cotton pajama pants and emerge with the gown bundled in my arms.
“I’ll have that dry cleaned.” He takes it from me and hangs it in a mudroom off the kitchen.
“Throw it away.”
“You might change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
He slides a dish in front of me. Salmon, rice pilaf, and green beans with almonds. The scent of hot food sends my stomach into somersaults.
“Eat.” He makes his own plate.
“You brought me to an island full of naked people.” I lower onto a stool.
“You needed a place to stay.”
I stare at him. At the rain hitting the windows. At the firelight flickering from the other room. And I wonder, not for the first time, what the hell I got myself into.
And why I’m not in a hurry to leave.
He hands me a fork, plops down beside me, and watches me eat like I’m the most interesting part of his night.
The food is too hot, but my stomach doesn’t care. I chew slowly, unconcerned with the dense silence churning between us.
Eventually, he sets down his fork and pulls off his beanie, shaking out a luxurious mop of inky curls. While I was in the bathroom, he removed his boots, socks, and rings and washed the dark makeup from his eyes.
“Spill it, Angel Wings.” His stare draws me in.
“What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“Cute. Let’s pretend you didn’t meet the family at a full-frontal welcome party. Nothing says hello like surprise nudity.” He shudders dramatically. “Good luck un-seeing Kody’s third leg.”
“I didn’t look.” My face heats.
“Denial’s a lovely color on you. I may not be caught up on all the social norms, but I know what you saw—” he directs a finger toward the second floor “—isn’t a paint-by-numbers situation.”
Since he met me in the trigger-happy-bridezilla phase of my life, we’ve established I’m not the standard type.
“Okay. Fine.” I push away my finished plate and twist on the stool to face him. “You refer to Leo and Kody as your brothers, but they’re not?”
“We were raised in the Arctic as brothers.”
“Raised by a psychopath. The news reports said he’s dead. Who was he?”
“He was a Strakh. Monty and Kody’s brother. Leo’s father. And—”
“Your uncle.”
“Right. But we didn’t know our DNA lineage until we escaped.” A dark shadow flashes across his face. “Doesn’t matter what those tests say.”
“They’re still your brothers.”
“Yeah. Until I push them off a cliff.” He winces. “Bad joke. Delete, delete.”
“Monty wasn’t in the Arctic with you?”
“No. We didn’t meet him until we escaped. And before you ask… The men in my family aren’t fucking one another. Legally, Frankie is married to my dad. But she’s also married to Leo and Kody in every other sense of the word. They share her. Standard foursome rules apply. Guys can’t make eye contact. Guys can’t make bodily contact. High fives are acceptable.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Yeah. I’m kidding. There’s definitely contact. You know… One in the pink? Two in the stink? Please, tell me you get it so I can shut up.”
“I get it.”
“Praise Jesus.”
As I let that sink in, a million other questions bubble up. The sharing thing doesn’t faze me. Jag has always been openly bisexual with an aversion to monogamy.
The men I just met are imposing, domineering, testosterone-fueled alphas. Like Jag. Except they’re committed in a conjugal relationship with one woman.
A woman who seemed entirely too comfortable prancing around naked in front of Wolf.
“What is your relationship with Frankie?” The question is out before I can stop it.
“She’s like a sister to me. Sometimes a mother. Other times, a best friend.”