Three Men and a Woman: Evangeline (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (22 page)

He’d lost his shirt sometime when he’d been wandering around her home, and his unzipped jeans were hanging low at his waist. So she had a lot of skin to enjoy when she leaned against him. Like his friends, he had a muscled body. His chest was neither bare like Briggs’s nor furry like Gio’s, but in between. He had a downy patch in the center and a thin ring around each nipple. Then, above his waist, a line grew down his middle, thickening until it formed a nest around his cock. Apparently, she was an uncritical connoisseur of the male chest. At least as it regarded her three men, she loved them all.

She soothed her cheek over his shoulder and touched her lips to his warm skin. He held her, one arm around her back and the other draped along her leg with his hand gently snugging her hip in. With a sigh, he let his head fall back and his eyes close. She knew his attention was still with her by the soft stroke of his thumbs along her skin.

“So, you had a good week with Briggs?”

“Yes.”

“You haven’t figured out he’s a self-involved, arrogant prick, and you’re better off without him?”

She lifted her head and touched his cheek, drawing his gaze. “A self-involved, arrogant prick whom you love?”

He grimaced. “Do you mean, in a totally straight,
guy
kind of way?”

She smiled and nodded.

He eyed her, obviously annoyed. “Yeah.”

“Me, too. I love him, too.”

He sighed once more, heavier this time, and dropped his head back again.

She ran her fingers along his neck. “And you. I love you, Chase.”

“And Gio.”

“Yes, Gio, too.”

He took her fingers and held them. “Do you really see this working, Evvie? The four of us together?”

Nuzzling into his shoulder again, Evangeline considered her answer. He wasn’t wrong to question it. She couldn’t believe either that she was envisioning herself at the center of a ménage. But there was only one thing she could say.

“It’s the only thing my heart can accept. I couldn’t choose. I couldn’t send two of you away. I’ll live with it if I have to—if you go, or Briggs, or Gio. If one or two or all three of you go away, I’ll live. And I’ll be happy—I was, before. I want you to trust me on that, Chase. I want to love you and have you with me, but I won’t break if you find you can’t deal with it.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “There seems to be only one thing I can’t deal with.” The look he gave her wasn’t entirely happy.

She nodded, understanding because she felt the same. “Being without me.”

“Yep.”

She couldn’t hold back a happy smile. “Call us crazy.”

“Okay, crazy. What about that breakfast you keep talking about?”

“Me? I only mentioned it once, and that was hours ago.”

“Minutes. And we’ve worked hard since then.” He patted her and started pushing her to her feet. “Go.”

* * * *

Chase had known for years that there was a mildly dark side in him that expressed itself sexually. He didn’t give it free rein very often. It required a degree of trust—for the woman to have in him, and him to have in the woman—that just hadn’t occurred often in his life. But there was trust with Evvie, and it was fucking sweet that she hadn’t balked when he’d loosed that urge a little with her.

Still, he was a rational man and regarded women as his equals in every way but the most basic, physical facts of biology. Plus, though his buddies freeloaded with some frequency, he pretty much lived alone and so, out of necessity if nothing else, he had a little skill in the kitchen.

So he lingered only long enough to watch Ev swing that sweet ass on her way there before he got up to help. She did an omelet thing with local cheddar and smoked ranch ham. He refilled her coffee pot and sliced and toasted whole grain bread. Foraging in the fridge, he found fresh strawberries and blueberries. He mixed them with a little sweetened cream and a dash of almond flavoring and nutmeg and set them on the table alongside a crock of fresh butter.

They talked casually, comfortably through the meal—her work, his work, her place on Victory Farms. He heard more about how old Miss Victory had taken her in and made her part of the farm family. He asked her details about her pregnancy and was surprised to learn that Maisy had been born at home—right upstairs in the bed Evvie slept in now. It seemed home birth was a tradition for the Victory family—Miss Victory had been born in that very same bed.

“Was the birth unattended?” he asked, nervous about it now, more than seven years too late.

“Oh, no. We had a midwife. She works mostly with the Amish south of here. But she delivered the three Victory brothers and all of their children.”

“You know that’s not really safe, Ev, right? You should have been in a hospital.”

Evvie set her fork down on the table in a gentle but very deliberate way and looked up at him. He got the sense he’d said something wrong, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “What kind of training did the midwife really have?”

“She’s licensed by the state, just as you are.”

Ouch
. Still. “I’ve seen a lot of babies get born, Ev. Things go wrong all the time. I’ll want you at the hospital next time.”

Maybe that was wrong, too. Her brow quirked, and her tone was a little chilly. “That’s really not your decision. And you should inform yourself. Planned home birth for low-risk women is safe. It’s true in this country, and it’s the routine practice for several European countries.”

He really wasn’t interested in debating the evidence—even if she was right—and he didn’t care what happened in fucking Holland. What he did care about was Evvie. And their next baby.

“You could be pregnant right now. It could be my baby. That would make it my decision.”

Ev stood, loading up with dishes to carry to the sink. The look she sent him suggested he should stuff a sock in his mouth, and she was probably right.
Dammit
.

“It would make it a decision in which you should be involved,” she said, entirely reasonably. The damn bitch. “If and when it happens, I’m willing to discuss it. But I won’t have you bullying me about it,
Doctor
Gregory.”

Chase took a long, deep breath. Then he bit his tongue and did the politic thing of carrying more shit to the sink. It shot a cold sweat through him, though, to think of Evvie in labor at the farmhouse, so far from medical help.

Her having a baby at all—his, Briggs’s, or Gio’s—put the fear of God in him. He fought the urge to run her up to the lab for a urine test. She’d turned a little pissy already, and that might send her over the top. But he realized he was about to be the sort of pregnant dad who wanted an ultrasound every day. Who wanted his woman admitted to the hospital for her last month. Just in case.

“Right. Sorry, baby.” He touched his lips to her temple in an apology that was
almost
sincere. She seemed to have her suspicions about it and moved away, rather than fall into the kiss as he’d hoped.

Clearly, this conversation wasn’t over.

Chase was interested in the vineyard. Victory Farms was an old Finger Lakes label. In recent years it had been gaining a respectable place for itself among top shelf Rieslings and Chardonnays. He kept a few of their bottles in his own collection.

So he eagerly accepted the change of topic when Evangeline—maybe begrudgingly—offered to tour him around the farm. She walked him further along the drive past her house, taking the back way through the vineyards to the winery grounds. They passed barns and the big production building. Chase held back the information that he’d scouted the whole site with binoculars just a week before. He felt he was on thin ice already.

But Evvie plainly loved the farm, and she warmed as she showed it to him, settling into the arm he wrapped around her shoulders. Her favorite place was obviously Casa Flora. Set on the hillside in the midst of lovely gardens dotted with romantic gazebos and fountains, it had been developed as a venue for weddings and similar affairs. It was a white clapboard building, architecturally interesting with several balconies, decks, and terraces. The indoor footprint contained several event spaces, ranging from small, intimate meeting and dining rooms to a large, balconied ballroom. Views of the gardens, the lake, and the vineyards were spectacular.

Chase learned Casa Flora was the brainchild of the three Victory wives, developed and managed by them. And, as he wandered through the space beside Evvie, he discovered that the Victory wives were a trio of remarkably hot women.

They were walking out of an office, likely winding up a morning meeting, as Chase and Evvie came in, hand in hand, from the main terrace. They welcomed Evvie like she was a fourth sister, their affection for her obviously real.

Their interest in him was obvious, too, in the way any good big sisters would nose into their little sister’s relationships.

Harriet, Jane, and Charlene Victory were all in their early to mid-thirties. They were dressed in casual elegance with very womanly tones. They gave the impression of being competent, successful women entirely comfortable with themselves and their place in the world. He knew they were all mothers, but that didn’t keep them from emanating a surprisingly attractive sexuality.

They didn’t come on to him in the least, but they were very, very interested.

Evvie was the only one who was a bit flustered. And Chase didn’t help—he quite deliberately kept her hand in his as she introduced him around. Each of the sisters-in-law gave him a good once-over and a warm kiss on the cheek.

Evvie stuttered out her answers to their inquiries, clearly nervous in the face of their frank curiosity. Chase appreciated this evidence that he was the first man they’d seen with Evvie but didn’t like that she was suffering through the sisters’ gentle inquisition.

After a couple minutes of it he interrupted. “Ev.”

Distracted from a rambling description of how they’d met, and encouraged with his finger at her chin, she looked up at him. “Hmm?”

He kissed her. He didn’t use tongue or anything, but it was a claiming kiss, and everyone present knew it. He didn’t let it go until he was sure that, when he was done, Evvie would remember that she was his.

It was a good strategy. When he let her go, Evvie opened her eyes, grounded again. She smiled at him and then at the sisters. “Where are the guys?”

Chase assumed the silence was an homage that hot kiss. Why the hell not? Finally, Charlene cleared her throat and spoke up. “Teddy is setting up in the tasting room. Scott was taking another shot at overhauling that old press in the production building. And Preston said he was going out to the fields to check bloom times. I think he’s looking at the northeast vines first.”

“All right. We’ll look out for them. Say hello if we miss them.”

The women nodded, still, Chase thought, a little sidetracked by his diversionary tactic. “Of course.”

He inclined his head. “It was very nice to meet you ladies.”

Chase grinned as he and Evvie turned and walked away. He could feel the heat of those silent gazes on his back. He dropped Evvie’s hand so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders again and tuck her in to his side. She had a sweet blush on her cheeks, but her lips were curved into a little smile and she circled her arm around his waist.

Victory against the Victorys.

“Evvie!” That was Charlene again.

Arm in arm with his woman, Chase turned.

“Are we still good for the sleepover at your place tomorrow?”

She might have been asking Evvie, but all three women were looking at Chase, watching his reaction with sly smirks on their faces. He didn’t let them see him blink though Ev no doubt felt his objection in the little reflexive squeeze he gave her shoulder.

Evvie caved, much to the amusement of the three females, whom Chase suddenly found much less attractive.

“Yes, of course. Maisy’s been looking forward to it.”

Defeat.

“Roll her over.”

Briggs hadn’t been able to stay away quite as long as he’d agreed to do. He’d sat out on Chase’s deck pretending to work for as long as he could stand it. Then he’d given up, closed his laptop, and gotten in his car.

He could usually plot well in the car. Something about having his mind focused a bit on driving seemed to let his creativity wander, and he often solved a plot or character problem on the road.

Yeah. That was a good reason to take the drive down to Gorham now.

So he made the trip and pulled up in Evvie’s yard next to Chase’s little red Boxster. He stood at her front door for a moment before quietly opening it and walking in. He’d looked around until he found his quarry—upstairs, in her bed, getting fucked.

He thought they’d just got started. Chase was doing that kissing-fucking thing again, moving pretty slowly as he humped her and making a lot of love to her mouth. Evvie had her hands on his sides and ran her heels up and down the backs of his thighs. She was whimpering some in pleasure, but it was a leisurely rather than rocking fuck.

Nothing that couldn’t be interrupted.

Though Briggs took a couple minutes to watch. A man could always learn from a brother, and he squirmed a little about it but had to admit it was freaking hot to watch.