Chapter Four
Bailey nearly sprayed herself in the face. “What?”
“And Knox, but I think Jesse would be a better fit,” Chloe continued, and looked at Bailey. “He’s more playful, and he’ll do pretty much anything in bed.”
Bailey fumbled the water off. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled about this.”
“You don’t say,” Bailey drawled, taking in Chloe’s expression. She looked like she was about to vomit.
“But you’re my friend, and—”
Bailey held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. It’s a very generous offer, Chloe, and I’m honored and…” Horrified? Appalled? “Grateful,” she decided, “that you’d make it. But I can’t take you up on it.”
Relief made Chloe’s face go slack, then the stubbornness set in. “Sure you can.”
“No, I can’t. First, unless your relationship with Jesse and Knox is way different than you’ve led me to believe, I don’t think you have the authority to volunteer them for extracurricular sexcapades.”
Guilt flickered in Chloe’s eyes. “I was going to ask.”
“Second, you don’t want me to sleep with Jesse or Knox.”
Guilt slid into consternation. “Well, no, but—”
“And third, I don’t want to sleep with Jesse and Knox.”
Quick as a flash, consternation became outrage. “Why not?”
Bailey stared at her. “What?”
“You think you can do better?” Chloe demanded.
“Jesus, Chloe, get a grip.”
Chloe kept her outrage for about three seconds, then it melted into sheepish relief. “Sorry. I got carried away.”
“You think?”
Cheeks turning pink, Chloe stepped to the sink Bailey had just finished scrubbing and turned the water back on to rinse. “So, sue me for caring about you.”
Bailey just laughed and stepped to the last sink. “I love you, Chloe.”
“I love you, too.” For a moment they worked in silence, then Chloe sighed. “It has to be Nash?”
Bailey glanced up. Chloe stood watching her, blue eyes troubled. “Is this really bothering you?”
“You loved him so much,” Chloe said, twisting the towel in her hands. “And he hurt you so badly.”
“I don’t love him anymore.”
“That doesn’t mean he can’t still hurt you.”
“Maybe I’ll hurt him this time.”
“Is that what this is about? Payback?”
Bailey shook her head. “No, of course not. You know I don’t hold those kinds of grudges.”
“No,” Chloe admitted. “You don’t.”
“It really is just about the fantasy, Chloe. I always regretted not getting to have it, and Nash always regretted not giving it to me.”
Chloe blinked. “He said that?”
Bailey nodded. “I think doing this will give us both a kind of closure.”
Chloe snorted. “Closure via gang bang?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like wishing for a threesome and ending up with two boyfriends?”
Chloe’s cheeks burned pink again. “I don’t think that’s stranger.”
“Eye of the beholder.” Finished scrubbing, Bailey turned on the water to rinse. “Come on, finish up. I have to go talk to my ex about closure.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Well, at least you’ve got a code word so you don’t have to keep saying gang bang out loud.”
“Gwen will be so relieved,” Bailey said drily. “Speaking of, how’s she doing?”
“Still in a mood.” Chloe lifted her towel. “What do I do with this?”
Bailey pointed at the bin in the corner. “Toss it in there, the laundry service will pick them up in the morning. Is this still about her mother visiting?”
“Gwen says that’s off. Apparently her next door neighbor is recently widowed, and Bonnie thinks she’s got a shot.”
“Ew.”
“I see your ew, and raise you a blech.”
Bailey led the way to the staff room, turning off lights as she went. “Do you think we should get her drunk and try to worm it out of her?”
“That’ll just make her mad. You know Gwen. She has to chew all the flavor out of a problem, then stick it in her hat.”
Bailey stopped at the locker where she kept her purse with a sigh. “And she’ll talk when she’s ready, and not a moment before.”
“Pretty much,” Chloe agreed. “Crap, I left my purse at your station. Be right back.”
She hurried out, and Bailey pulled her purse out of her locker. She was waiting at the back door when Chloe walked back in, her phone in her hand and a frown on her face.
Bailey pushed open the door. “Problem?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just my mom. She wants me to come over for dinner Sunday. Well, us.”
“You and the dynamic duo?” Bailey guessed, leaning against the door to hold it open while she dug her sunglasses out of her purse.
“Yeah.” Chloe stepped into the parking lot with a grimace. “She’s trying to ‘get to know them’.”
Shoving the sunglasses up her nose, Bailey let the door bang shut. “That sounds like fun, said no one ever.”
“No, but my dad’s decided he likes them, so it’s not complete torture. And Roman will be there for once.”
Bailey locked the door. “For once?”
“He usually works weekends, but he switched shifts with someone, so I’m playing the little sister card. His job is to distract Mom when she starts asking embarrassing questions.”
Bailey snorted. “How’s he supposed to do that?”
“He said he’s going to tell her he’s dating a forty-seven-year-old zookeeper whose specialty is elephant artificial insemination.”
Bailey laughed so hard she had to lean against the building for support. “Oh my God, I love your brother.”
“Me, too.”
Bailey wiped her streaming eyes, then leaned in for a hug. “Call me after dinner, I want to hear all about it.”
Chloe laughed and returned the hug. “I’ll take notes.”
Bailey pulled back. “Notes, hell. Take video.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Chloe agreed and with a wave, started across the parking lot to her car. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Bailey said and with a relieved sigh, unlocked her car and slid inside. She wasn’t pleased that Gwen was still having problems, but at least it had distracted Chloe from her concerns about Nash.
Her reaction wasn’t unexpected—she’d been the friend Bailey had leaned on the most after the breakup, so she’d seen first-hand the devastation it had wrought. But the strength of those worries seemed out of proportion, and the weight of them was making Bailey uncomfortable.
Giving Chloe the deeper details of her fantasy had helped a little, she mused as she started the car and pulled out of the lot.
If nothing else, those details had made it clear why it was so important to have someone she knew and trusted in charge of things.
Hopefully it would put the bulk of Chloe’s concerns to rest, at least enough that she’d stop trying to get Bailey to change her mind.
Most of the after-work traffic had already dissipated, making the drive home short.
Nash’s car was parked in the double driveway, so she pulled in beside it and gathered her things.
Purse over her shoulder and keys in hand, she got out of the car and was climbing the front steps before she noticed Nash sitting on the porch swing.
“Jesus.” She stuttered to a stop, her heart in her throat. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry.” He nudged the floorboards with a bare foot, sending the swing into a lazy sway. “I thought you saw me.”
She forced herself to take the last step up onto the porch. “What are you doing out here?”
“It’s a nice night,” he said with a shrug. He wore canvas shorts ragged at the hems and a plain white T-shirt. One arm was slung over the back of the swing, and a bottle of beer dangled from his fingers. “Not too hot. I thought I’d enjoy it for a while.”
She jerked her chin at the beer. “I hope there’s more of that.”
“Plenty,” he said and held it out to her.
It was an unmistakable challenge—and to Bailey, irresistible. Her belly quivering with the thrill of it, she took the bottle, keeping her eyes on his as she lifted it to her lips.
The mouth of the bottle was warm, the beer icy cold. It slid down her throat smooth and easy, and when she lowered the bottle, a drop of liquid clung to her bottom lip.
She swiped her tongue out to catch it and handed the bottle back. “Thanks.”
The dimple appeared in his cheek, and he lifted the bottle in a silent toast.
“What’s for dinner?”
“I hit up the Colonel for a bucket,” he said, the dimple still winking in his cheek.
“Original recipe or extra crispy?”
“A mix.”
“Aw, you remembered.”
The dimple deepened. “How could I forget?”
“Did you get all dark meat?”
“No, but I’ll fall on my sword and eat the breasts.”
“Good enough.” She stepped across the porch and pushed open the front door. “I’m going to go change.”
“I’ll be here,” he drawled and lifted the beer to drink.
Enjoying the dance of nerves, the tingle of anticipation, she shut the door behind her and kicked off her shoes. She hurried through the house and up the stairs to strip out of the black jeans and T-shirt she’d worn for work, then dug into her dresser for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
Except there weren’t any shorts. With a muffled curse, she glanced at the hamper in the corner.
She’d meant to do laundry yesterday when she’d gotten home from the hotel, but between mowing the lawn, dinner at her mom’s, and conversations with about gang bangs, she’d forgotten all about it.
She pulled out a pair of capri pants, then shoved them back in the drawer.
It was too hot for pants, so that left only one option.
The gray dress was wonderfully comfortable and marvelously cool.
The T-shirt fabric was blissfully soft, skimming gently over breast and belly before falling to swing loosely around her thighs, generating its own breeze when she moved.
It stopped just before her knees, an objectively respectable length, more’s the pity.
She could’ve used an advantage in this upcoming conversation.
Crossing to the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she eyed the effect. The dress wasn’t as loose over her tits as she’d thought, and the fabric was thin enough that it didn’t completely obscure the texture of the lace bra underneath. Pleased, she turned to judge the back view.