Chapter 30
Mac
I have no clue what I was about to say to her because the only thing I can focus on when I grab her is the tremble in her hand.
With my free hand, I curl a finger under her chin and urge her eyes up to mine. I swear the glistening threat of tears in her eyes nearly takes me to my knees.
"Baby, what's wrong?"
Instead of answering me, her eyes dart toward the group of men finishing the breakfast she brought.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks square in the chest with enough force to nearly take my breath away. She's not comfortable around my men. She sat across from me, not eating her breakfast, feeling uneasy because they were all gawking at her like she was a circus monkey expected to do tricks.
"That was amazing," Ethan says as he drops his plate into a trash bag that she was thoughtful enough to bring along with her this morning.
Rather than heading back to the shop to finish loading materials up for the day, he walks past us, pausing right in front of Riley.
I watch in irritation as he leans forward and brushes a quick kiss on her cheek with a thank you on his lips.
She dips her head before telling him he's more than welcome, despite the discomfort still on her face.
Then the others do the same, each one taking care of their trash before thanking her and pressing their lips to her cheek.
Donnie, the most respectful one of the group, whispers a simple thank you, not touching her, and it makes me consider him for employee of the year because Ethan's ass just got knocked to the bottom of the list right along with Ronnie and the other guys.
Once they're all several feet away, getting back to work without being told to do so, I feel territorial, as if I might need to rub myself all over her to claim her in some way. I know they were all grateful for breakfast, but the kiss on the cheek was extra just to get on my damned nerves. These men don't see me with women. I've never flaunted anyone in front of them, so they're very aware of just how different she is.
"I should go," she whispers.
"Not yet," I tell her, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the front porch.
I have a million and one things I could be doing right now, but not a single one of them matters other than making sure she doesn't feel like she shouldn't have come here.
"Mac," she whines, but there's no resistance in our connection.
She isn't pulling away and trying to scurry back to her car.
I spare a glance over my shoulder once I guide her in the house, noticing that all the guys have cleared the front yard and have no doubt made it back to the shop.
We now have the privacy I was aching for fifteen minutes ago, but she seems less than eager now, which contradicts how I read her mood earlier.
"Ronnie and Donnie share," I say, wondering if I'm reading the situation wrong.
Maybe she wasn't uncomfortable outside. Maybe she was considering what two men would have to offer her.
"What?" she asks, her brows drawing closer together.
"The same woman," I explain. "They share the same woman... sexually."
"I know," she replies, her face still a mask of confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I didn't know if you were considering giving them a go."
I grind my back teeth. Just saying the words makes me want to go line the twins up and beat their asses one by one.
"Seriously?" she asks, taking a step back from me.
The distance is enough to drive me mad.
"Why would you think I want to be shared?" Her eyes narrow before she continues, "Are you about to make some sort of suggestion? I swear on everything that is holy, Mac Hammer, if you—"
I step up and kiss her, because how could I not?
She melts into me as if right here in my arms is all that she's ever wanted.
Tongues tangle.
Lips move.
My hands roam down her back until I have two healthy handfuls of her ass.
She groans in the kiss, lifting up on the tips of her toes to get a few inches closer.
My cock thickens, throbbing behind the denim of my jeans, and the ache continues to grow to an almost unbearable level as her body slowly and sensuously rolls against mine.
"Come upstairs with me," I whisper against her lips.
Her lips turn up into a smile against mine for a brief second before she takes a step back, grinning up at me.
I swear the woman is an angel. She's the prettiest thing I've ever seen, and the only thing that would make this moment better is if she was under me naked with my cock stuffed to the hilt inside of her.
"Upstairs," I repeat, reaching for her hand and tugging her forward.
Only this time, she doesn't glide easily behind me. Instead, her feet dig in as she wordlessly refuses to follow me.
"What's wrong?"
"You have work," she says in a chastising yet playful tone. "Your men are outside waiting for you."
"My men know what their tasks are for the day. They'll be fine. Unfortunately, this won't take very long."
She chuckles when I reach down and try to resituate my cock. The damn thing is driving me mad, making me feel like a teenager who will stomp their foot in annoyance if I don't rectify the situation soon.
She still doesn't budge when I tug her arm again.
"Please?" I ask, not too proud to beg her.
She tilts her head to the side as her eyes study my face, and I hate that her expressions are still so new to me that I'm having a hard time figuring out what's going on in her head.
I could've sworn with the kiss and the way she clung to me just a moment ago that she was a hundred percent on board, that her train of thought matched mine, but now I'm doubting it.
"Is there something wrong?" I ask. "I wanted to—"
A loud knock on the front door makes me want to throw shit.
Ronnie doesn't wait for me to walk to the door and open it. He turns the knob and steps inside like he owns the place. The guys have always been able to come and go from the house for years. The shop doesn't have a bathroom, so they've always used the guest bathroom I have downstairs here in the house.
But today is not the day to just barge in. I could've had Riley stripped to her skin and on her knees with my cock in her mouth right here. If he'd walked in on something like that, I would've plucked his fucking eyes from his sockets.
"What?" I growl, glaring at him, hating the moment that Riley takes a step to the side and pulls her hand from mine.
Is it me? Is she not comfortable with people seeing us together?
Is it Ronnie? She rejected the idea of being shared by the twins, but now she's getting weird again in front of one of them.
Ronnie hitches a thumb over his shoulder. "That delivery you were waiting for just showed up. They won't let me sign for it."
The man turns around and walks out.
This company had a delivery driver that was screwing them over. A little over a year ago, I had a truckload of stuff that was labeled as delivered when, in fact, it never made it. The company finally figured out the guy was selling the stuff and pocketing the money. They've put fail safes in place to prevent it from happening again, and one of those is that only one designated person can sign for orders. They go so far as to verify identifications before they'll unload.
"I have to go out there," I explain, hating to even leave her for a minute to take care of this.
"Okay," she says, her agreement almost too fast.
I pause in front of her. "We really need to talk."
Her eyes dart away, but she doesn't say another word.
I walk across the room and out the front door to deal with the damn delivery driver, wishing it was the same guy who stole the last load because I'd rather fight about where my materials are than walk away from her right now.
There's too much of a weird vibe between us. She's fine when she's in my arms and our bodies are moving against each other's, but the second I take a step back, things turn weird. I really need to get to the bottom of that.
As I deal with the delivery, I try to formulate a way to approach the idea of the two of us without making her run for the hills, but before I can sign off on the delivery and get with the guys about what needs to go to which job, I watch as she drives away from my house.
Annoyance and something similar to fear settle inside of me, but I get my guys lined out for the day, realizing this is a conversation that needs to happen sooner rather than later. If the woman is done with me, then I need to know that.
Only once I get across town back to her house, she's nowhere to be found.
When I call her number while standing on her front porch, she doesn't bother to answer.