Page 7 of The Gift that Keeps On Giving

They grumble at each other, frowning, as if trying to decide who is being given the better opportunity. While they’re distracted, I take the chance to remind myself of the ultimate goal. Dean and Cameron need to walk away from this three-day experiment as friends. Or their wives are not going to pay me. Which would be bad.

Because if they don’t pay me, I will have to close the doors on Sip and Flip.

All of my carefully laid out dreams will be dashed and I’ll have to start from scratch.

In other words, I need to do whatever is in my power to give these men the satisfaction I denied them six years ago, thus giving them no reason to resent one another. It must be said, however, that there are far greater hardships than being handed the chance to explore my physical wants with two big, powerful men.

Dean with his 6’4” athletic build, impeccably honed at the gym. His light tawny eyes and expensively styled light brown hair. A jaw that could break a cinderblock.

Cameron is more like a sleek animal, all unruly black hair and soulful green eyes, his body cut and sinewy from metalworking his sculptures. A modern blacksmith.

Both are looking at me like they’re one second away from snapping. Taking me down onto the sand and ripping my dress off with their teeth.

“Don’t be like this, men,” I say, kissing Dean on the chin, before turning to Cameron and kissing him in the exact same spot. “We only have three days. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

“I’d enjoy it a lot more if he wasn’t here,” Cameron blusters.

“Likewise, buddy,” Dean returns with a phony smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get her out of here for a while. Away from you. Before you try anything weird with her and I have to kill you with my bare hands.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dean,” Cameron growls, reaching over my shoulder to poke his former friend in the shoulder. “Like I said, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, either. But whatever it is, let’s think about putting it behind us.” I rub circles onto both of their chests, giving them my broadest smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Don’t you remember all those Shakespearean grudges we studied together? I’ll remind you, they all ended in tragedy.”

“I remember every single thing you taught me, baby,” Dean says, reaching beneath my dress to tease my panty line. “And every minute I got to spend with you.”

“Me too,” Cameron says through his teeth, tugging me back in his direction. “But obviously one of us paid better attention. I’m the only one who got an A in Shakespeare.”

Dean flips him off.

“You both did amazing,” I protest, but it’s clear I need to get them away from each other, before there’s a fight and nothing gets accomplished. “Um. Dean, why don’t we go for that drive now? I’ve never been to the Observatory, and I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Good idea,” Dean says.

Cameron snags my hand before I can walk away, running his incredible lips over my knuckles and sending a sensual shiver down my spine. “I’ll look forward to our swim, angel.”

“I’ll look forward to it, too.”

It’s surreal to be walking hand in hand with Dean Carmichael, a man I never expected to see again. My pulse is a little wonky as we weave through the throngs of tourists at the Griffith Observatory, though. It feels like we’re doing something wrong. Really wrong. Even though I know it’s not the case, there’s a sense we’re going to get caught.

The majestic gray and white dome looms to our left, the green valley spread out in front of us, the jagged skyline of Los Angeles up ahead. Dean draws me toward the perimeter of the platform, positioning me in between him and the chest-high stone wall, wrapping his arms around my shoulders from behind.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Dean says, nuzzling my hair. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Me either,” I confess, turning my face up to the sunshine and getting a kiss on my nose, instead, making me giggle. “I’m grateful we are, though. The way the three of us left things was...unresolved.”

He growls into a kiss of my neck. “I only want to think about the two of us right now.”

I send him a playful frown.

“There’s something I’ve been dying to ask you,” Dean says, his right hand moving to massage the nape of my neck. “You’re smart. Beautiful. Sexy doesn’t even begin to cover it. How the hell are you still single, Ruby?”

I tilt my head left, releasing a silent moan when his thumb drags up a particularly tight tendon, further loosening my stress, along with the sunshine. “I like it that way.”

“You don’t want a relationship?”

“No.” I turn to face Dean, excitement racing up and down my limbs at the familiar way he presses into me, chest to thigh, like we’re a couple. And I know we have permission to be like this together, but oh boy, it’s almost criminal how my soft body molds to this married man’s muscle. It’s a taste of something that could easily become an addiction, if we’re not careful. “My parents had a really ugly divorce when I was nine. I went to live with my father and his new wife, only for them to go through the same thing a few years later. I’ve seen people who claim to love each other make one another miserable. I don’t want to open myself up to that. I like my freedom. I like the quiet. Not having to be accountable to anyone. It just…works for me.”

What I don’t add is that I haven’t found a single person who might make me want to change my decision. No one has ever quite lived up to…well, them.

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