Winners (7 page)

“For a few months
now.”

“Living with
Craig and Ashton.”

“I am.”
Definitely
not going to deny it.

Melinda tilted her head, her eyes
narrowing. She huffed, and her lips quirked in a nasty smile. Had she thought
Sinclair would deny the inference? The woman had another think coming.

“Those boys are fine. Now I’m back,
I thought I’d stop by and see them. Catch up on old
times
.”

“Better call first.”

“Excuse me?”

“We appreciate some notice from
visitors. You know, so we’re prepared to entertain company. We tend to enjoy
our time together.”

“What are you doing
here
?” Melinda clearly was regrouping,
and Sinclair could almost see the wheels turning in the other woman’s head.

“I attended your father’s mare.
The one foaling.”

“Are you a vet?”

“Not for a couple of years.”

“My father uses Doc Webber.”

“I guess he wasn’t available.”
Sinclair kept her tone casual, and after a sharp glance, Melinda left the
topic. What was done was done.

The conversation died. Sinclair had
no interest in asking Melinda anything about her life, past or present, and
wanted to get gone before the woman delved deeper. And Sinclair spelled things
out in an unladylike fashion. She slammed the trunk and stepped past Melinda,
reaching for the front door handle.

“Do you like their brand of kink?”

So much for a
strategic retreat, not that she wasn’t up for the battle.
Being with
Craig and Ash had given her confidence, not to mention a terrific boost to her
self- esteem. And she had made it through some grueling years at university.

Sinclair supposed it was best to
have this conversation in the yard, and not at say, the local restaurant, or
the pharmacy, or even the library, although Melinda didn’t look the type to
read. And she didn’t doubt the woman would ask her the same question wherever,
because the nastiness emanating from Melinda was tangible. As she considered
her response, a big motor revved up the drive, and she recognized the sound—Ashton’s
truck needed a tune-up.

She wasn’t sure who she was
angriest at in that moment and thought maybe it was a tie. Melinda squinted
unattractively toward the big vehicle,
then
morphed
into a seductive floozy when it stopped and Ash and Craig scrambled out. It was
almost funny to view the transformation, but Sinclair was past seeing the humor
in any situation.

“Ashton! Craig! I was just telling
your
… umm … Sinclair here that I planned to stop by. Catch
up on old times.” She pranced over and laid a hand on first Ashton and then
Craig. They took on a look Sinclair had seen on an old dog when the vet came
into the office and lifted it onto the examination table.

Mutters of
Hey, Melinda
could be heard as both men sidled away, and Sinclair
appreciated their effort to distance themselves, but it didn’t cool her outrage
that they felt the need to ride to her rescue. If she was enough
woman
to take them on, then she was enough to deal with one
of their former … flames.

“Actually, Melinda was just asking
me if I liked your brand of kink. I expect we’d be comparing notes next if you
hadn’t arrived
…
 
so
precipitously.”

Melinda gaped, scarlet lips
quivering wide, and she took a step back. Ash moved in Sinclair’s direction,
and Craig circled around Melinda. All it would take was for George to come out
from the barn to complete the circus.

“I do like it, Melinda.
Exclusively.
You remember to call first before you
stop by
.” Yanking the driver’s door
open, Sinclair slid inside, stabbing the keys into the ignition and cranking
over the engine. As she pulled the door shut, she called out her farewell over
the noise before shifting into drive and pulling away. Ashton set his hands on
his hips and stared her way as Craig stumbled to a halt near her bumper.

Lights in her rearview announced
themselves a couple of minutes later, and she smiled widely. There would be
some posturing at home, maybe even some raised voices, but she was taking a
long, hot bath in the Jacuzzi—with or without her men, and she’d bet on the
former—then going to bed. It had been an exhausting, fruitful day, and
regardless of what happened tomorrow, she’d saved two valuable animals, slain
her demon and felt mighty fine on the face of it. And once Ash and Craig
settled, they’d take care of her like they always did. Their relationship was
far more than just sex, although she wouldn’t minimize how important that was
to her, and them.

Her men caught up with her as she
pulled her gear from the car, Craig relieving her of her burdens. He gave her a
sheepish look.

“My overalls need to be washed.”

“Sure.” Craig bore the plastic bag
into the house, the yard dogs trailing him and his aromatic armful.

“Coward.”
She turned to see Ashton scowling after his brother.

“Excuse me?”

“You worried us sick, Sinclair.
Late and no phone call.
No text. We couldn’t reach you.”

“I’m sorry. I got wrapped up in the
emergency.”

“I know. I get it. It’s bound to
happen. But then you said where you were…” Ash’s face was in shadow, but she
interpreted the ambivalence in his tone. If it hadn’t been for Melinda, she
knew there would have been a big, heated discussion, so there was a silver
lining in that regard, too.

“Whose idea was it to come save me
from the evil Melinda?”

Ash scuffed a boot in the dust.
“Mine. Not that you needed saving, turned out.”

“Ash?”

“What, sweetheart?”

She stepped into him, and he
wrapped her up, resting his chin on the top of her head. Sinclair breathed him
in. “We’re still figuring things out, Ash. There’ll be times when I can’t fight
a battle and I’ll welcome your help. But I want to ask for it, okay? And I’m
going to be a vet, and do all the things vets do. But I won’t take risks, okay?
Can you give me that?”

“I’ll try.”

“I know you will, and believe me
when I tell you how much I appreciate the fact you always have my back.”

Craig hollered from the house. “The
bath is running. You
coming?”

Ash scooped her up.

“I can walk.”

“Making it up to
you, Sinclair.
You look worn out.”

****

Ash handed Sinclair over to Craig,
who set about relieving her of her clothes, starting with her boots, which he
passed back to Ash to set in the mudroom. The washer was also filling, and when
he returned to find her outer clothing in a pile, he gathered them up and
reversed his path to shove them in with the overalls, adding detergent with a lavish
hand.

He could hear her laughter even
over the noise of the appliance and smiled in response. Craig would be making
nice and groveling a little, although in truth they’d both been scared shitless
when she was so late and didn’t call, and then to think of her possibly running
into Melinda—he smirked. The
look on the other woman’s face
... talk
about dodging a bullet.

When he gained the bathroom,
Sinclair and Craig were already relaxing in the huge tub, jets burbling and
fragrant steam filling the room. Ash cracked a window before stripping down,
enjoying how Sinclair’s conversation with Craig wound down as her eyes slipped
over his naked body. She pulled a hand through the water in invitation, and Ash
hustled to climb in. Her hair shimmered through the bubbles the way he figured
a mermaid’s would, and the strands veiled her slender torso. He sought a breast
beneath the shroud and tenderly cupped it, feeling Craig’s hand cover the
other.

“I need my bed.” There was no
negotiation in Sinclair’s tone, and Ash didn’t argue. Neither did his brother.
It was rare indeed that their girl was so short with either of them, but he
supposed it had been a long, wearing day—for all of them.

“Just helping you wash,
sweetheart.” He grabbed a bar of soap and a bath sponge to prove it and
embarked on the enjoyable task. Taking care of Sinclair was nearly as good as
having her.
Nearly.
She was worn out though, as he’d
noted, so he kept his touching to the necessary, despite his own need. It was
easier said than done, her satiny skin a temptation to taste, not to mention
her lady parts.

She slipped beneath the surface to
rinse the suds Craig created in her hair, and Ash climbed out to get a pitcher
of fresh water. She closed her eyes against the stream, and Craig stole a kiss.
He never thought he was a romantic, but Ash thought he could write some words
about the way she looked at that moment, before shaking it off and grabbing a
thick towel.

Wrapping her up, squeezing the
excess moisture from her hair, he rubbed her down, easing what were obviously
tired muscles, to her appreciative moans. Then he carried her to their bed.

“I can’t leave my hair like this.”
Her tired voice pushed him into motion.

All he could find were some twist
ties hanging off the electrical cord to the lamp, but he knew his way around a
horse’s mane for the shows, and braided Sinclair’s hair in record time,
securing the end with the plastic covered piece of wire. She lay on her belly,
lax and unmoving.

“There. You’ll have wavy hair
tomorrow but no tangles.”

“Thanks, Ash.” He could barely hear
her response.

“My pleasure,
sweetheart.
We’ll finish the laundry, clear up the bathroom, and be
along shortly.”

 
Nothing.
She was out.
Ash checked the bathroom and Craig was finishing up in there, so he sauntered
down the stairs to throw the wash into the dryer and lock up, shut the lights.
When he went back upstairs, he found Craig standing by the bed, staring down at
their sleeping woman. His face was turned away, but Ash had no difficulty
reading him.

“How’d we get so lucky?”

“Don’t know. But it’s like holding
the winning lottery ticket. The rewards just keep on coming.”

Epilogue

Candy set the snack trays within
easy reach of the guys while Sinclair brought in some paper towels and a bowl
of salsa. Reece, Craig, and Ashton all appeared intent on the game, but she
suspected it wouldn’t take much effort on her part or Sin’s to distract them.
It was almost halftime, and at least they’d made it this far without the
Russell brothers dragging Sinclair home so she could “rest”, and Reece counting
the minutes until their guests went home.
Not that she wasn’t
as guilty.
And Sinclair hadn’t minded that early night from all
appearances.

Rumor had it that Melinda Roberts
had taken herself back to the east coast, saying that Barrister didn’t have
anything to offer her. Sinclair made some weird Mona Lisa face when Candy told
her, and then shared the confrontation.

“I tried to be nice and avoid a
confrontation, I really did.” Sin had ducked her head. “But she was just so …
Melinda. And then my guys surfaced and my inner bitch rose up.”

“I didn’t know you had an inner
bitch,” Candy remembered teasing her friend, but was thrilled to know that
Sinclair was coming into her own, likely the result of being the center of her
men’s world.

Candy would have given anything to
be a fly on the wall and privy to that event. She was far more short-tempered
than her friend, and she had no doubt there would have been a catfight, but
Sin’s way of dealing with the other woman had been better—and more effective.
If only she could have seen the Russell boys’ faces though.
 
Candy kept her friend’s confidence, however.
She’d never let on that she knew what played out.

Candy’s daddy had indeed called
her, and they’d exchanged a few cautious words, culminating in her agreeing
that he drop off her mother’s picture. She hadn’t invited him inside—it was too
soon—but they were going to have dinner at the estate in a week’s time. They
could always leave if things went south, but it would be more difficult to ask
her father and Roslyn to get the hell out of her house. With her history, it
was hard learning to accept that the glass could be half full.

She felt Reece’s eyes on her and
looked his way, reveling in the way he studied her, full of promise. She
relaxed, able to set away her issues as she always could around Reece.

“Maybe we should go,” Sinclair
teased.

“And maybe we should get through
one evening like adults and not horny teenagers.”

With a wink, Sin bounced off to the
couch and curled up between Ash and Craig, who immediately enveloped her. Candy
raised a brow at Reece and went to fit herself on his lap, his big arms
wrapping her up.

“Who’s winning?”

“We are!” Reece, Ashton, and Craig
spoke as one. Sinclair stared into Candy’s eyes, and they agreed without speaking.
All winners here.
No more marking time, waiting and
hoping for deep, abiding love.

The End

www.allysonyoung.com

Other
Books by Allyson Young:

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