“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.
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?
Chapter Four
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.”
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.”
Tory looked up. Con stood directly in front of her, hands fisted at his sides. She felt compelled to point out the obvious. “Um, I hate to break it to you, Con, but we’re involved in a threesome. That’s sort of what threesomes do. They have three-way sex.”
One corner of Con’s lips kicked up. “Thanks for the reminder, smartass.”
“I’m not saying that will change, either,” Devon interjected. “What I’m proposing is a way for Con and me to have some alone-time with you. I think if this relationship is going to work, then we possessive types need to be able to have your full attention from time to time.”
Tory was beginning to get the drift. Still, she couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that she was somehow very close to losing something precious. “Con?”