Tempting Meredith (19 page)

Charlie closed his eyes, and his throat worked. When he opened them, Blaine saw guilt. “I forgot about Meredith as soon as you kissed me. How fucked up is that?”

Blaine was reasonably certain this wasn’t a case of “if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.” But he needed to be one hundred percent certain. “Depends on if you’re using her to get to me.”

Charlie’s eyes widened, and his head jerked back. “No. That’s not it.”

“I didn’t think so, but I’m not making any assumptions. I want everything on the table and up front.”

“That makes sense.”

“The three of us sit down together and discuss our expectations.”

“Okay,” Charlie said.

“So in the spirit of full disclosure, you need to know one more thing. I gave her up once. I’m not doing it again. If we do this, I won’t bow out afterward. The relationship will run its natural course, whatever that happens to be.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m good with that. But I’ll be honest, I won’t be certain until it happens.”

“And you and me?”

“That too.” He opened his mouth as if to say more then pressed his lips together.

“What?” Blaine asked.

“Should we—uh—” A red flush bled from the collar of his blue shirt up his neck and face. “Do you think we should—you know—before we do it with her?”

The question stunned Blaine.

Charlie hurriedly added, “You know. Just to be sure I’m—” He swallowed before the rest of the sentence tumbled out. “Just to be sure I’m okay with it.”

A bark of nervous laughter escaped Blaine at Charlie’s conflicted eagerness. If possible, Charlie’s blush deepened.

“It’s damned tempting,” Blaine said. “But if you don’t get her permission first, I’m afraid you’ll feel like you’re cheating on her. Hell,
I’d
feel like we’re cheating on her.”

Charlie blew out a long, relieved breath. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Oh, and Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you should send me that list.” He didn’t want to screw things up with Meredith. Not when he was so close to having everything he wanted.

“What list?”

“The Gidget list.”

Charlie grinned. “Good idea.”

Chapter Seventeen

Meredith struggled to cut the top off a pineapple. Her sister’s curious glances—okay, not glances but stares—were making the process even more difficult. Jake, on the other hand, had refused to meet her gaze since she arrived two hours ago. Something was up with both of them. She was about to ask Jake to lend his muscle to the pineapple when the knife gave way.

Today was Nikki and Jake’s annual Memorial Day cookout, and she was determined to keep her sister off her feet. So Nikki was sitting at the bar while Meredith put together side dishes and Jake prepared the hamburger patties with his special blend of spices. The party wouldn’t start for a few hours, so it was just the three of them. Her brother, Landon, and his boyfriend, Ty, would arrive soon. Nikki had arranged for the family to have a couple of hours alone before the party started.

Nikki and Jake’s house was bright and optimistic like Nikki and big and expansive like Jake. For Meredith, it was a bit much. Too cheerful, too big. It overwhelmed her sometimes, especially when it was full of people. But it suited Nikki and Jake perfectly. Amazing, since her sister and brother-in-law were such different people.

When Jake went outside to clean the grill, Nikki lowered her voice as if someone might hear her, even though they were the only two people in the house. “So, how did your vacation with Charlie go?”

It was the first chance they’d had to talk since Meredith’s trip to the ranch. That had been by design. And if she hadn’t been worried about her sister overdoing it today, Meredith would still be avoiding her and the question.

“It was nice,” she said, her noncommittal response practiced.

“That’s it? Just nice?”

Meredith sliced off several strips of the pineapple’s prickly brown skin and considered just how much information would satisfy Nikki without revealing too much. “I had a migraine.”

“I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“Yeah, but Charlie was great. I crashed, and he didn’t bother me.”

Nikki frowned. “What? He didn’t take care of you? He just left you alone to suffer?”

“Yes. Once I assured him there was nothing he could do, he left me to suffer in peace, which was
exactly
what I needed.”

Nikki’s eyes began to sparkle. Her lips curved up in a huge smile. “I knew it.”

Uh-oh. Meredith froze. What had she said?

“You like him,” Nikki said, happily smug.

To deny it would just give her sister more ammunition. “He’s fine, but I don’t think I’ll see him again.” She’d ignored the three voice mails and two texts he’d sent her. She also hadn’t responded to the email except to thank him for the “lovely vacation” and to tell him how beautiful the ranch was. She was too confused. Yes, she liked him. A lot. She liked Blaine, too. And Blaine liked Charlie, and she was almost positive Charlie liked Blaine. But Charlie was struggling with his feelings for a man, and she was struggling with her feelings for both men. And then there was the whole secret baby issue. If she told Blaine about Cassandra and he was the father, what would happen? Her life had become a frigging soap opera.

Nikki’s eyes widened. “Why? He’s perfect for you.”

“How can you say that? You haven’t even met him.”

Her sister pressed her lips together and suddenly looked very guilty. As guilty as Jake had looked all morning. Something was going on.

“Nikki, what did you do?”

“
I
didn’t do anything.”

“Okay, what did Jake do?”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “As if my husband would get involved.”

That wasn’t an answer. Short of committing murder, Jake would do just about anything to keep Nikki happy. In fact, Meredith wasn’t a hundred percent certain that murder was out of the question. “Then how do you know he’s perfect for me?”

“You’re different.”

“How so?” She held her breath, waiting for an answer.

“I can’t put my finger on it.”

She was fishing. Had to be. “Well, when you figure it out, let me know.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” Nikki chewed on her bottom lip, which meant another uncomfortable question or observation was queued up.

Meredith began to core the pineapple. “How was your doctor’s appointment last week?”

Nikki caressed her belly. “Everything is great. Jake Junior is right where he’s supposed to be developmentally.”

“And y—”

Her sister interrupted, “I couldn’t be better. Heart, blood pressure, blood sugar, amniotic fluid. Everything is textbook.”

Meredith wanted to ask which textbook, the one for normal pregnancies or the one for high risk, but then she remembered she’d decided to be happy and supportive, not snarky and pessimistic. She forced some enthusiasm into her voice. “That’s great.”

“The nursery and his wardrobe for the entire first year are ready. Yesterday, Jake installed baby seats in both cars.”

“It’s a bit early, don’t you think? You’re not due for another two months, and you’ll probably be late.” Cassandra had gone past her due date, but Meredith didn’t say that. It wasn’t necessary. They both knew it, and from the shadow of sadness that crossed Nikki’s face, she was remembering.

“I know, but if it makes him feel more in control, I’m not going to naysay him. You know how he is.”

Jake came in and rummaged through the kitchen drawers. By the time he’d gone back outside with a lighter, tongs and oven mitts, Meredith had finished chopping the pineapple. She added it to the rest of the fruit and began tossing it.

“How was Mother’s Day?” Nikki asked delicately.

Meredith cringed, and her eyes watered. She bit her lip to conceal the quiver and quickly covered the salad and put it in the fridge, stalling in an attempt to master her emotions. Her neck cramped with the effort. She hid behind the refrigerator door. The cool air washed over her as she took a deep cleansing breath. She emerged with a bright smile. “It was fine.” She swallowed back the tears she thought she’d banished and tried for more enthusiasm. “Great. I learned how to drive an ATV, and Charlie gave me a tour of the ranch. It’s beauti—”

The doorbell interrupted her, and she was so relieved a real smile curved her lips. It had to be Landon, which meant this line of questioning was done. Because like their parents, Landon didn’t know about Cassandra. One thing Meredith and Nikki didn’t share was the way they carried their pregnancies. Cassandra had been small—five pounds, four and a half ounces. Meredith hadn’t looked pregnant until after she’d moved to Boston, three months before she was due. It had been easy to hide her thickening waist from her brother and professors and classmates. It had probably helped that no one had expected someone like Meredith to have sex, much less get pregnant.

Despite Dylan’s equipment malfunction, she hadn’t expected it either because she’d been on the pill. She’d been a couple of months along and had been dealing with nausea and vomiting for weeks before she’d gone to the doctor—not her GYN but her family practice doctor. She’d been shocked then embarrassed then terrified when she’d received her “diagnosis.” And then all those emotions had muddled together, coloring every decision she’d made. Only her core convictions had remained, which was why she hadn’t had an abortion. She didn’t believe in an afterlife or reincarnation or second chances, so she’d gone through with the pregnancy. But keeping her baby, raising her? She’d been too young. Her brain might have been light years ahead of most people, but emotionally she’d been at the bottom of her class.

Every day, she questioned that decision, wondered if she could have raised Cassandra alone.

Nikki maneuvered her body from the bar stool and waddled to the front door. Meredith hoped for her sister’s sake that Jake Junior wasn’t late. In fact, a few days early would be a nice gift. Being that pregnant in Austin in the summer was just cruel.

When the party was in full swing, Nikki shooed her out of the kitchen. There wasn’t anything left to do there, but Meredith wasn’t in the mood to socialize. She wandered through the living room and out to the back porch, searching for her brother. He hated these get-togethers. At least she could help him through it. She found a spot on a bench next to Landon and sat beside him. He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.

After a while, she noticed something odd. Her brother wasn’t talking much. That wasn’t the odd part, given his loathing for parties. Today, though, contentment radiated from him. She’d never seen him so relaxed and happy, not in a group of people this large. If she was honest, she had to admit she’d never seen him this happy period.

Despite the fact that he was spending more time in Austin because Ty lived here, they hadn’t gotten together since April, a few weeks after he and Ty had come out. And wow—just wow—the change was incredible.

A light touch on her shoulder and Nikki’s smooth cheek next to hers distracted her.

“Hope,” Nikki whispered. “That’s what’s different.”

“Landon?” Meredith murmured, thinking her sister had noticed the change, too. Of course, she had. Nikki saw all, knew all. She was like Charlie that way.

“No,” her sister said, her voice still low. “You.”

Chapter Eighteen

The steering wheel’s smooth leather slid through Meredith’s hand as she turned onto her street. She was singing along with Fergie about leaving and not crying. When she belted out the chorus,
big girls don’t cry
, Meredith almost believed it, almost convinced herself that she would never cry again. The late dinner of leftover pancakes she was anticipating—Charlie’s recipe—would help with that. Carbs were the emotional cure-all. A DVR’d episode of
Doctor Who
would complete the evening.

Those plans dissipated into the balmy summer night when she spotted the pickup parked in front of her house. Charlie’s pickup. She’d recognize it anywhere.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. But judging by the leap her heart made, she was. Or maybe that wasn’t surprise as much as excitement. Anticipation.

As she eased her foot from the accelerator, she peered into the truck’s cab but didn’t see Charlie inside. She glanced at her porch and saw not one, but two silhouettes sitting on the top step just outside the illumination of the porch light.

He’d brought Blaine with him. Not that she could make out either man’s face. But she was certain, one hundred percent. Okay, maybe ninety-nine point nine percent.

Hands shaking, she turned into the driveway. From the corner of her eyes, she saw both men stand. Her heart pounded and her breathing quickened to shallow pants that were already leaving her light-headed.

She sat with her hands dampening the steering wheel, the engine still running.

The robotic female voice of her Bluetooth interrupted Fergie. “Call from Charlie Connor.”

She punched the answer button. “Hi. Um, why are you calling from my porch?”

“I was afraid you didn’t recognize us. I didn’t want to scare you,” he explained.

Both men were crossing the lawn toward her car, Charlie’s phone to his ear. She ended the call, shut down the engine and took a deep breath, hoping to still her trembling hands. It didn’t help. When she fumbled for the door handle, Charlie was already there, opening the door. Blaine was a couple of feet behind him.

Charlie helped her out and, still holding her hand, tugged her toward him and kissed her. It was short, undemanding, but his scent surrounded her, and that brief familiar taste left her wanting more. Unfortunately, she didn’t just want more sex. If he would wrap his arms around her, hold her, let her bury her face in his chest and hang on for dear life, everything would be okay. More than okay. Damn near sublime.

Stupid.
You felt the same way about Dylan.
Look what that got you.
And she had the feeling her relationship with Charlie was about to take a turn in that direction. Otherwise, why would Blaine be with him? She untangled her hand from his and smoothed her skirt. “Hi, Blaine.”

They followed her into the house. Huggins met them at the door and after introductions, Blaine and Charlie gave Huggins the attention she expected as the queen of the house.

Meredith placed her purse and keys on the secretary. “Have a seat. I’m going to have a glass of wine.” Forget pancakes. She didn’t think she could swallow them, much less keep them down. “Would y’all like something to drink? Beer, wine, a soda?”

“Beer’s great,” Charlie said.

“Yeah, great,” Blaine echoed.

So she wasn’t the only one who needed alcohol for the coming conversation. They settled in the living room, her in one chair, Blaine across from her in the other and Charlie on the couch between them.

Charlie took a long, deep draw on the beer before saying, “You’re probably wondering why we’re here.”

“No, not really.” She knew why they were here. Charlie had made his decision about the ménage. Since he’d brought Blaine with him, she suspected his answer was
yes
.

Charlie’s brows drew together. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. Of course not. Why?”

“You wouldn’t answer my messages.”

She placed her wine glass on the table and slipped off her suit jacket. “It’s been a busy couple of weeks. The WoSTEM camp starts on Monday. I’ve been dealing with last-minute stuff.”

“That’s the science camp for teenage girls, right?” Blaine asked.

“I guess Charlie told you about it.”

“Nah. I checked you out on the internet.”

“I thought maybe you were avoiding me,” Charlie said.

She widened her eyes and parted her lips as if the idea had never occurred to her. “I would never do that,” she said in her best southern drawl.

Charlie shook his head and grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

No fooling him. Not that she’d been trying to. “Seriously, I needed some time to think, to figure some stuff out.”

“About us?”

“Yes.”

“I did, too.” His grin faltered, and his neck pinkened. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal.”

His chagrin baffled her. He could talk dirty to her with his boss—his friend—watching and listening. But a discussion about the three of them together discomfited him.

She glanced at Blaine. His hands clasped the brown bottle between his knees. The expression on his lean face was a mixture of hopeful and worried.

“You really want to do this again?” she asked him skeptically.

He nodded. “This would be different.”

“How?” She sipped her wine, waiting for the answer. Could they see her heart pounding against her silk shirt?

They glanced at each other then back at her.

Blaine cleared his throat. “I should probably answer that.”

She leaned back and crossed her legs, trying to appear nonchalant instead of conflicted.

“This time I’m telling you up front that it’s about more than you. You’re beautiful, smart, sexy. I like you. A lot. I fell a little bit in love with you that night. And seeing you again didn’t change that. But as you’ve guessed, I love Charlie. More than a friend should.”

She squirmed at the image that popped into her head. Both men naked, their bodies pressed together, kissing from their lips to their toes. Those muscular thighs bumping as they rubbed their long, swollen cocks against each other. Their broad chests glistening. The play of their biceps, her own private gun show as they touched, stroked, caressed all of that masculine skin. Oh God, and then Charlie spinning Blaine away from him and bending him over the bed before he—

“Meredith?” Blaine’s voice interrupted the fantasy.

She blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

Charlie chuckled. “She’s drooling.”

Meredith snapped her mouth shut before straightening her shoulders and replying, “I am not.”

“That’s a good thing,” Charlie said, his color almost restored to normal. “But there are other conditions before we go there.”

“And I’m waiting to hear them.” Granted, talking about expectations before anything happened was wise. But it was kinda hard to focus when she wanted to take them upstairs and get on with it.

“You understand that it’s about more than you?” Blaine asked.

“Like last time,” she said.

“Huh-uh.” Blaine jerked his head at Charlie. “This time we don’t need you as an excuse to be together.”

“Really?” She wasn’t convinced of that. Blaine didn’t need her. But Charlie was a different story.

Charlie answered. “It’s true.”

She could press him. But talk was cheap. He’d say what he believed. And what he believed wasn’t necessarily the truth. Unless... “Have you already—?” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

Charlie looked guilty. “A kiss. That’s all. I didn’t cheat on you.”

Wow. She was stunned. A kiss? That was a huge step for him. “Okay. What else?”

“It won’t be a one-time thing,” Charlie said.

“I have feelings for both of you,” Blaine added. “I won’t just fuck you and leave it at that. I want to see where this takes us. All three of us.”

Meredith absorbed his words. A car passed the house, its lights flashing behind the plantation shutters. The air conditioner cycled on, a low hum. The refrigerated air blew across her face but didn’t cool the heat building inside her.

“Are you okay with that?” Charlie asked.

The temptation was impossible to resist. The three of them together. Both men fucking her. Everything they’d done so far had been blazing hot. The three of them together would probably set the room on fire.

And if it didn’t work out, didn’t last, there would be no baby this time. No lingering reminder. No heartrending souvenir.

“Is that everything?” she asked.

Charlie spoke matter-of-factly. “Those are our conditions and expectations. We need to know yours.”

Don’t leave me when we’re done.
But they couldn’t guarantee that. She was still hiding Cassandra from them. That secret could change everything, especially with Blaine. “I can’t think of anything. Well, condoms, of course.”

Both men nodded.

“Okay then.” She stood. She could feel a sheen of sweat dampening her skin. The silk blouse clung to her. This was really going to happen. She’d had her doubts. Charlie could’ve balked at being with a man or at letting another man touch her. And no one would blame Blaine for not wanting to get involved in what could be another messy threesome. “Toys are upstairs. Shall we play?”

Both men jumped to their feet.

She started for the stairs off the dining room but didn’t hear footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Not only had Charlie and Blaine not followed her, but they looked as if they had bad news.

Charlie stammered, “I—uh—We wanted to give you time to think about it.”

“Another difference from last time,” Blaine added. “No pressure. This is your decision.”

“I’ve made my decision.” She definitely wanted this. Both men caressing her, each other. Skin on skin on skin. She craved it. “Time isn’t going to change it.”

“It could,” Blaine said. “Either way, it won’t hurt to wait.”

“After camp is done, let us know,” Charlie said.

Two and a half weeks? Maybe they weren’t as into this as she’d believed. Maybe they weren’t sure. Was Charlie still hesitant about the man-on-man action? If so, he needed the incentive to explore that relationship without her. He needed to be certain.
She
needed him to be certain.

“If that’s the case, then I have another condition.” Not wanting to miss Charlie’s reaction, she watched him carefully. “I don’t want
you
to wait. I want the two of you to—” How to put this?
Fuck
sounded so crass for what they’d be doing. Odd. She’d never had a problem with that word before.
Make love
didn’t sound right either because she didn’t know if Charlie was there yet. Clearly, Blaine was. “Before I make my decision, I want—no, I need the two of you to be together.”

Charlie’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. His skin flushed. He glanced uncertainly at Blaine.

“As in sex?” Blaine asked.

“Yes.”

“Now?” Charlie asked, disbelief choking the word.

Oh, she liked that idea. Liked it a lot. Plus, it might give her some clarity about her place between them. But she suspected Charlie would be too self-conscious his first time with a man, especially with her watching. “No. You can wait until you return to the ranch. Seduce each other with candles and wine or whatever it is men like. Beer and baseball, maybe?”

“That sounds reasonable,” Blaine said.

She almost rolled her eyes. Reason? Really? This wasn’t about reason. It was about sex and emotion: add the two together, and you sure as hell didn’t get reason. But she didn’t argue. “Okay. When it’s done, let me know if you’re still interested in a ménage.”

“Not
a
ménage,” Blaine countered. “
This
ménage.”

Leave it to a lawyer to nitpick determiners. Didn’t matter that he no longer practiced or that he’d read her usage correctly.

“Right,” she said. “
This
ménage.”