Page 147 of Craving Consequences

I’d gone to bed alone.

The silence had been deafening after our long day of loading and unloading the donation things and them taking turns systematically destroying my body. We made dinner together in my kitchen in between stolen kisses. We sat on the sofa with my back cradled against Lachlan’s chest and my legs draped across Van’s lap. We watched a movie and talked about the trip back to the cabin in the morning. We argued about extra butter in the popcorn and whyHarley Quinnwill always be scarier than theJoker. It was a perfect night. The kind of evening I could almost imagine being allowed to have ... until it was time to let them go.

We all felt it.

The second it became unacceptable for them to remain with me any longer, they kissed me at the door. I followed them onto the porch and watched them disappear into the dark, the rumble of the truck filling the street.

Inside, I showered and dressed in the t-shirt I’d stolen from Lachlan that first night. I haven’t washed it and with the combined mix of his lingering scent and the faint hint of Van still clinging to my sheets, I could almost pretend they were still with me, their bodies cocooning mine.

I even managed to drift off ... until the first ping.

I almost thought it was rain, when it hit again. Then again. Little pings that had me scrambling to the glass. I chucked open the blinds and blinked down at the yawning stretch of blackexpanding across my yard, swallowing everything but the hazy cluster of pine trees in the distance. I almost had a heart attack when, from the darkness, twin faces emerged just beneath my windowsill like a pair of phantoms.

Both men peered up at me, clad head to toe in black and clutching fistfuls of pebbles. They motioned for me to come down, but I was already sprinting from the room. My feet thundered down the stairs. I hit the bottom and stumbled to the door.

Both of them stood on the darkened porch in black jeans, black tops and black ski masks dangling from their hands. The sight of them had sent my heart galloping in my chest even as I peered past them at the row of houses bathed in shadows. Everything seemed so still, yet oddly alive.

“What are you doing here?”I asked, breathless and lightheaded with excitement.

Without a word, Lachlan stalked forward, bent at the knees and swooped me up over his shoulder. I was vaguely aware of Van snapping the lock into place as I was hauled up the stairs.

I didn’t ask them again. I didn’t care. I was just so relieved they were back that I let them take me to bed. I let them sit me down on the mattress and undress. They crawled in with me, pulling and cradling me until I was tucked protectively between them.

“Couldn’t do it,”Lachlan murmured into my ear.

“Couldn’t sleep without you,”Van added against my collarbone.

My arms had tightened around the broad width of Van’s shoulders as I tipped my head back and kissed Lachlan.

Now, they are with me. Their scent a tangled net I never want to be free of. Not of them. Not of this moment, as they hold me like I’m the only thing that matters in the world.

But I know I need to wake them soon. They need to return home before someone sees them. I don’t know where they parked the truck or how they even got to me in the dead of night, or how they both decided simultaneously that this was the thing they needed to do, but it was a huge risk.

Just not yet.

I need a few more minutes...

We may never get this chance again and I never got to enjoy it the first time.

As if sensing my need to be held, Lachlan tightens his arms. The possessive coil of his forearm across my abdomen drags me deeper into the curve of his front, tucking me deeper against him. His face nestles into the back of my neck, and I feel him inhale as if — even in sleep — he needs to breathe me in.

At my front, Van wiggles closer as I’m pulled away from him by an inch. His hold stiffens and only relaxes when I stroke a hand over his hair.

It’s all so perfect. So incredibly right. Nothing can convince me that having them like this will condemn me to hell when it feels like heaven.

Still, I resist the voice of temptation reminding me I’m being shortsighted. After tomorrow, nothing will ever be the same again and I can’t delude myself into thinking otherwise.

With a sigh, I shut my eyes and go over the laundry list of things that need to get done today. The cake and pastries I need to pick up from Maisie’s. The yard at the cabin needs to be finished. I need to run to Holland’s and grab snacks, drinks and meat for the grill.

Do I have enough charcoal? Why didn’t I check?

Resigned, I will myself to get moving. I scoot out of the iron clad arms restraining me, wiggling practically on my belly down to the foot of the bed. Lachlan’s top is a rolled wad bunched high around my waist, but I make it.

I find a pair of shorts and a light blouse from the closet, and use the spare guest bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I’m quiet padding downstairs. I gather up my purse, my phone and charger, my car keys and leave to get the day started.

Maisie beams when I slip through the bakery doors. Her brilliant smile fills me with the same welcoming ease her sweets do.

“I’ve missed you the last few days,” she says, reaching for the muffins under the case.

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