Third Time’s A Charm

PERSEPHONE STEELE

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Epilogue

Epilogue

Epilogue

Epilogue

Epilogue

Epilogue

Epilogue

The End

Acknowledgments

Also by Persephone Steele

Also by Persephone Steele

About the Author

Third Time’s A Charm

Copyright © 2023 by Persephone Steele

Cover Design by Chaotic Creatives Covers

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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, brands and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

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 To Mom.

Whose strength could topple mountains and whose love was a shoreless sea.

Your memory will guide me until I see you again.

Chapter 1

Nope. There’s no way in hell. My mother has officially lost her mind.

“Get out,” I order the man standing in my office doorway. He balks as if I just told him to eat an actual turd or something, his once leering gaze flicking from my legs to my face. Has the man never been told no? Is he not used to being turned down? Great! Now I have a headache!

“Excuse me? Your mom sa-”

“I really don’t care what my mom said. I said get. Out.” Jeez. Even his voice is annoying. While he might be considered good looking to most women, he’s just way too pretty for my taste. Like puberty never really managed to hit him properly. Baby-faced. That’s more accurate.

Aside from the fact that he’s most definitely as far from my type as possible, he’s way out of line here. I don’t care what someone else tells you, you don’t show up at a stranger’s–my–place of business and demand that you’re taking them out right that second. He doesn’t even know me, and I most assuredly don’t know him.

It’s out of line. Unprofessional. A complete turn off.

As if the baby-face didn’t see to that well enough.

He stares at me for longer than appropriate, face slack, and mouth wide the hell open. He really has never been turned down in his life. I’m sure of it. And that’s enough of a reason to stay far away. Men who aren’t used to being told no can be downright dangerous.

As if to prove my point, his shock morphs to rage in the blink of an eye. His pale skin reddens like a ripe tomato and his baby blues practically bulge out of their sockets. Hell, the vein on his forehead looks like it’s about to pop like an over-filled balloon.

“You really are the world’s biggest bitch.” Spittle flies from Baby-Face’s lips as he tries to bolster himself and loom over me. I’m completely unphased. There’s not a chance in hell that this man-child is going to intimidate me for even a second.

I tame lions and soothe injured man-eating beasts for a living.

This little-dick-energy-having-pansy is no match for my brass pussy. You know, because pussies can take far more of a pounding than balls ever could. I’ve never understood calling someone a pussy if they’re weak or a chicken shit. There’s really no comparison to be made.

I know, without even being able to see, that my features have not twitched from their utterly bored state. He sees it too, based on the ever more pronounced vein in his forehead. Damn. That thing is about to blow.

I press the intercom button on my desk and the smooth, melodic voice on the other end answers immediately. “Yes, Ms. Sharpe?”

“Stephanie, can you please call security to escort out Mr-” I scrunch up my nose when I realize I don’t remember Baby-Face’s name. Whoops. “-this man from the building.”

What a recovery. Go me!

“Are you fucking serious? Security? I didn’t even want to fucking be here! I did it as a favor to your mom!” His voice breaks and screeches, the man-child in him rearing its immature head.

“That…” I tilt my head as I struggle to find any sort of condolence for his loss of time, but I can’t think of a damn thing. So I simply shrug.

“I knew those gossip columns were right about you. You are just an ugly, stuck-up bitch!” He sneers, as if his words should be having any sort of affect on me. “You’re probably a fucking lesbian too!”

“I most definitely would rather lick any cunt over the one standing in front of me, that’s for sure.” And there goes my temper. Dammit… And here I was, doing so well. Cue eye roll.

I’m saved from whatever nonsense was about to spew from his mouth as my door opens, admitting two of my best security officers. Aiden and Caiden are about the meanest looking sons-a-bitches I’ve ever seen. Identical twins and standing above six feet, they’re covered in tattoos and muscles. They also happen to be ex-cons and can scare just about anyone who tries to bother me or my employees.

No one needs to know that they’re natural teddy-bears and the only thing mean about them is their protective tendencies. Oh, and the fact that they only went to prison for beating a wannabe date-rapist’s ass at a bar. Their hands aren’t clean, but they only pummel those who deserve it.

“Ms. Sharpe. Is this the bug?” Aiden’s–or Caiden’s, I really don’t know which one is which–deep voice fills the room, crossing his arms over his massive chest as Baby-Face whirls around and flinches away from the towering twins.

“That’s him. Please see him safely back out to the wild. No need for your extermination services…today.” I narrow my turquoise eyes at Baby-Face, letting him see the threat for what it is. I may not actually have him offed–I’m not that mean–but I won’t stop him from getting the ass-kicking I’m pretty sure he’s overdue if he decides to make a scene.

“Don’t touch me!” Baby-Face screeches as he tries to jerk away from the twins, making me wince as the sound pierces my eardrums. He’s not much of a match against them though. With one twin grabbing a bicep each, they pick him up, not even allowing his feet to graze the floor, and promptly sweep him from the room.

Thank God!

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I bite at my bottom lip as I try to prepare myself for the earful I’m going to get from my mom tonight. She most definitely is not going to be happy with me for this one. Not that I deserve her ire. In fact, I feel pretty justified with how the entire scene played out. But that’s not going to stop her.

Letting out a sigh, I lean back in my chair and kick up my heeled feet on my beautiful glass desk, trying to remind myself that my mother’s meddling comes from a place of love. But then again…isn’t the road to hell paved with good intentions?

A sharp knock sounds at the door and I quickly sit up and cross my legs beneath my desk once more. “Come in.”

“Ms. Sharpe, I have those files you were asking for.” My magical ass-istant, Stephanie, glides into my office. Her long, glossy brown hair swings behind her with every step until she comes to a stop in front of my desk and places a small stack of black folders in my hands. My white-tipped, french manicured fingernails brush over the name on the front of the first one: Stevenson Sanctuary.

“Is this the sanctuary that’s failing?”

“Yes. The one owned by a Mr. David Stevenson.” She confirms for me and I nod absently before flicking to the next folder. “In order, there is P.H. Rescue, Furry Friends Sanctuary, and Feline Foxhole. All four have agreed to your terms.”

My face lights up and I let out a girlish giggle as I let the pile of files flop to my desk. Leaning back in my chair, I turn my attention back to Steph. “That’s a massive cause for celebration!” Her answering smile is as wide as mine feels.

Now this? This is what I live for.

I hate sitting here in this stupid, upscale office, when I could be down in the trenches with my employees, saving animals, caring for them, getting them the treatment they need. Alas, I’m the stupid boss who founded this whole operation, which leaves me to deal with most of the shit work.

My company started as one small sanctuary for a few stray dogs and cats, and now it’s a billion dollar operation that umbrellas hundreds of sanctuaries, clinics, black market stings, and so much more. My company is responsible for saving the lives of millions of creatures in the animal kingdom–big and small.

“With those four, that’s officially two thousand four hundred and twenty-nine more animals that will be in safe hands permanently,” she recites before flicking through the last folder in her hands. “And that includes multiple critically endangered species. There are three Giant Pandas, one Cross River Gorilla, two Sunda Tigers, one Black Rhino, and…four Amur Leopards.”

I practically choke on my own spit as she says that last one and my jaw slackens with shock. “Four? Four freaking Amur Leopards?! Are you kidding right now?”

Steph shuffles through the papers left over in her arms–as unruffled as ever–before casting her bright, light-brown gaze back at me. “That is correct. Stevenson Sanctuary rescued four of them from an abandoned cartel house after the owners were arrested. They have, surprisingly, bonded well as a group and stay in an enclosure together.”

“That’s…unusual.” Understatement of the century. Amur Leopards are solitary creatures. They don’t tend to keep mates–they prefer a rather promiscuous lifestyle– and mothers will only stick with their young for two years at the maximum. “Is it a mother and her young? How long ago were they rescued initially?”

“They were rescued a year ago. It’s one female and three males. As far as we are aware, they are not related. The female is only about two and a half years old and hasn’t yet reached sexual maturity. There have been no signs of estrus yet, which could be due to the stressful conditions she was brought up in. The males are older; one is three, one is about five and a half, and the last one is eight. Though there is an occasional fight between males, they all tend to form a sort of pack around the female, completely disregarding their natural tendencies towards seclusion and dominance challenges.”

“That’s…incredible.” Yeah, I might be speechless, but I am right. It’s incredible, and I’m already mentally planning a visit out to this sanctuary to see the beasts in action. It’s bizarre to say the least.

I need to see it. Soon.

Chapter 2

I’ve made it two feet in the door of my penthouse when my cell phone starts playing the Jaws theme song. Even if it wasn’t my mother’s personalized ringtone, I’d still know it was her calling. I was expecting it.

Yes, okay, I still personalize all my ringtones. That’s the one thing I refuse to give up to be new-age-cool. Do you know how hard it was to have personalized ringtones back in the day?

First you had to wait for the radio to play the song you wanted. Then you had to record it at the perfect distance from the speaker to get a good sound. You also had to hope that no one busted into your room and made noise or said something, otherwise the entire thing was ruined. You couldn’t sound edit on your phones like you can now.

And if anything messed up…you had to do it all again. Or pay like, way too much money to buy a ringtone. But that’s only if the kind of phone you had allowed it. That’s not even mentioning the notorious Nokia texting.

We went through all that, just to have it be so easy to do it today and yet no one takes advantage. So, no. I don’t need to be cool. I like using my phone to actually call people and I like finding the perfect song for every contact. Call me disgustingly nostalgic. I don’t care.

Letting out a loud sigh, I kick off my heels and toss my keys and briefcase on the marble surface of my kitchen island. Fishing my phone from my blazer pocket, I wince as my mother’s beaming face smiles at me from her contact picture.

As much as she is a controlling busybody, she’s still my mom, and a good one at that. I love her more than I hate her lack of respect for my boundaries, and that’s saying something. I also, maybe, sorta, kinda fear the tiny, demanding woman as well. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop pushing her buttons though.

Bracing myself for the reaming I’m about to endure–with a distinct lack of lube–I slide the answer button as I plop my ass on a barstool at the island.

“Kathryn Marie Sharpe! How dare you embarrass me like that! Do you know what strings I had to pull to get the son of the damn mayor to agree to a blind date?” Her screeches are on a frequency so high that it pierces my eardrum. I jerk the phone away from my ear, holding it at arm's length like a venomous snake. The volume isn’t even that high, and I can still hear her.

Before she can continue, I make my own voice heard, “Momma! It doesn’t count as a blind date if he’s reading about me in the gossip columns.”

Sometimes I truly hate the fact that I come from a celebrity family. Mom was an A-list actress back in her day–like, full-on Hollywood starlet and America’s Sweetheart–before she decided she wanted to step out of the lime-light and raise me and my sister. Dad is a crazy well-connected tech guru. Add to that, my own work with the rich and famous…and it brings way more attention to me than I’m comfortable with.

It has its advantages, like when I need to bring attention to a cause or a certain sanctuary, but most of the time it just sucks.

“Well, if you would just settle down with a nice man, those worms would stop speculating and spreading rumors about you! They’ll find someone else to gossip about.” Her volume drops as she speaks, and I put the phone back up to my ear, listening to the gallons of self-satisfaction pouring from her tone.

She thinks she’s backed me into a corner.

“Not really, Ma. They’ll just start spreading rumors about how I’m having an affair. Or he is. And then comes the pregnancy ones. It’s most definitely the side piece’s, by the way. Not the husband’s. Oh! And don’t forget all the abuse claims and insider info from reliable sources about the upcoming divorce.” My own tone drips with sarcastic acid.

I’m pretty sure just last week there was a piece that surmised I was most definitely pregnant by Thomas Fieldings–the nation’s biggest country singer–after posting an article the day before that said I was a lesbian. They even posted a picture with my damn tummy pouch peeking out beneath my cropped boyfriend hoodie.

I’m not pregnant, you vultures! I’m just a little…softer on the tummy, ass, and thighs. And maybe my arms. And tits. And…okay, okay. I know I’m not a fitness model, I like food way too much to even dream of that. Not that I’m ashamed of my body in the slightest. I’m healthy and soft, and I know damn well that my bed partners enjoy the hell out of my curves and handles.

“Really, Kathryn, I’m only trying to help, and you’ve been nothing but obstinate and rude. Do you know the amount of ass-kissing I’m going to be puckering up for after you had the mayor’s son thrown out of your building by security?!”

“That’s a bit of an over exaggeration, Mom. They didn’t throw him out. They just escorted with a side of gumption.”

“Really? Is that why there’s a video of him being tossed from the building onto his ass on the sidewalk circulating on the internet?” I smother the laughter that threatens to escape as I immediately pull my laptop from my briefcase and pull up YouTube.

“Well he was behaving rather angrily and erratically in my office, it’s not my security’s fault that they are literally paid to handle that sort of…thing.” I type in my city and mayor’s son thrown from business into the search bar and immediately see a freeze frame of the glass front of my building on the first one. I click it before checking the volume of my laptop.

My mother sighs deeply as the video shows a woman smiling and talking to whoever is behind the camera as they walk down the street–probably busy filming a vlog or whatever they were doing before the incident.

“Kat…he’s the tenth man this month who you have refused to even give a chance to. I-” The video shakes as if the camera holder was startled before it pans to the front of my building. “-why you don’t want to be happy. If you-”

Aiden and Caiden surface through the first set of large, glass double doors with a flailing man between them. Though they barely manage to take a step to the second set before Baby-Face manages to free an arm and whacks Aiden in the face.

“-for the wedding. It’s important to-”

Aiden’s features sharpen and grow cold as Baby-Face continues fighting and screaming profanities at the two of them, though the person holding the camera isn’t close enough to catch what he’s saying. Or maybe it’s because my volume is too low.

“-how about that? Could you just do that one thing for her?”

Aiden restrains Baby-Face once more and Caiden says something to him that has him nodding. They both yank Baby-Face off his feet simultaneously and use his body to push open the second set of doors before winding back and straight out chucking him onto the sidewalk.

This time I can’t stop the bellow of laughter from escaping me, but I do manage to cut it off short, so I think I just about manage to make it sound like I choked or something.

“Kathryn, are you even listening to me? What’s so funny about that?”

Or not…

“Oh nothing, I just tripped, that’s all.”

“So will you just do this one thing for your sister’s sake, please?!”

Oh God, she brought my sister up. She knows that no matter what it is, I never could tell my baby sister no. I’m a sap when it comes to her. She’s my one weakness.

“Of course, Ma. Anything for Annabelle.” I groan out in agreement. Though based on the hairs on the back of my neck immediately standing to attention at her squeal of joy…I chose poorly.

“Wait-”

“Oh, this is just wonderful! I knew you still had a heart in there!” The line beeps that it disconnected and I pull it from my face to stare at the end call screen before it just goes black. And then I stare some more.

What did I agree to? If it made my mother that happy, it couldn’t have been anything good for me.

I jump when my phone lights up and starts ringing My Sister by Reba McEntire. My sister’s bright-eyed and cheery face flashes on the screen and I immediately swipe to answer. “What’s up, Demon-Doll?” I grin as she practically growls down the line at me. I can almost picture her adorable glare. The girl couldn’t intimidate a bunny. She’s a lamb–just way too cute and innocent.

“Kitty-Kat, when can I expect you to stop calling me that? That movie came out like ten years ago!” Even her voice–peppered with irritation–is sweetness and sugar. It’s laughable because she knows it and hates it fiercely.

“I don’t know, Demon-Doll. When are you gonna grow the brass pussy it’ll take to make me?” I tease, my cheeks hurting with how impossibly wide my smile has gotten.

I love my sister more than life itself. She’s roughly three years younger than my twenty-nine and we’ve always been close. We never fought, got territorial, or anything close. The day she was born, we were inseparable.

We even refused to divvy friend groups through high school. If I was going somewhere, she was too, no matter what anyone thought about it. Hell, even after I went off to college, I still drove down almost every weekend to pick her up and bring her out to my campus with me.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Nothing. You can even ask her freshman highschool boyfriend Jake, whose nose I broke in two places when he thought he could cheat on her without consequence. I may have been suspended for a week, but everyone learned a lesson that day.

You don’t fuck with my sister.

“Oh har-har. Very funny.” She snarks in that delightfully flowery way she does. “So, did you really agree to Mom’s demands?”

“Oh, uhh…about that.” I grimace as her chiming laughter fills the call.

“You weren’t listening to a thing she said once again, huh?”

“Well…no. But for good reason! There was this funny video of the-”

“I know all about the video, Kitty-Kat. I was the one who showed Mom.”

I hiss down the line, now glaring at a stain of red sauce on the otherwise white and black streaked marble in front of me. “Traitor!”

“To be fair, I didn’t know who he was or that she was the one who sent him there when I did. I just saw your security putting an obvious dickhead in his place, and thought Mom would enjoy it.”

“Fine. You’re safe from retribution. For now.” I start tapping my fingernails on the counter, making them click in that satisfying way. “So what the hell did I agree to?”

She chuckles noisily before she’s shushing someone next to her–probably her fiance Ethan–but it does no good and they both dissolve into giggles. I roll my eyes, but I’m not genuinely annoyed. I love that they are so happy and close. My sister deserves a man like Ethan has shown me he is. Hell, he worships the ground she walks on.

“Alright, kids. Spit it out. Momma’s got a date with a beautiful redhead tonight.”

“Psht. You mean a bottle of red wine? I’m not mom, Kitty-Kat. I know you.”

“Fair enough. But seriously, just tell me already.”

“You agreed to bring a date to my wedding.” She erupts into giggles once more, as if she is truly enjoying dropping that atom bomb on the top of my head.

It’s probably the worst possible thing I could have agreed to so blindly. My sister’s upcoming wedding isn’t just a day of ceremony and celebration. It’s an entire week and a half full of events and surprises that I don’t even have all the information on. Not only that…it’s a destination wedding. Which means, whoever my date is, will be sharing a hotel room with me at a glorious, beautiful, and romantic resort for the entire time. The place has been fully booked for months.

Can someone say forced proximity trope?

What was supposed to be a fun and relaxing vacation for me, myself, and I, will now be a tortuous event that will make my busybody mother absolutely giddy.

Shit. Maybe I’ll just go ahead and date two redheads tonight.

I’m a great multitasker, afterall.

Chapter 3

“Man! I feel like a wom-” My amazing rendition of Shania Twain’s epic hit is cut off as I slide one foot too far out in my tipsy-deluded spin, ending up in a pile of limbs and cozy sweats on the marble floor of my kitchen. The song continues playing even as I groan and extract myself from my predicament.

Flipping the hair falling from my messy bun out of my face, I’m extremely proud to see that I didn’t spill a single drop of wine. Damn. I wish someone were here to see that epicness. I manage to pull myself to my feet, blowing another stray lock of dark brown hair out of my face. It takes four tries, but when it leaves my sight, I grin and pump my fist in celebration.

It’s the small things, you know.

The song ends and in the silence between tracks of what I deemed Kitty-Kat’s Tracks–available to the public on Spotify now–I hear a knock at my door. “Go away!” I shout the words before squealing as Worth It by Fifth Harmony starts blasting from my soundbar. Within a few beats, I’m shimmying and gyrating like a mad woman, but who cares. It’s Friday night, and I can do what I want. And what I want to do is dance like nobody’s watching as I drown in the good stuff.

Though, apparently, life has other plans for me.

A feminine giggle manages to pierce through the momentary lapse of bumping music and I spin in place to see my sister in the doorway with a wide grin on her face, her fiance behind her, covering his mouth with his palm.

“Hey, Jackass, pause music!” I yell out, waiting for my personalized AI smart system to do as I command. It listens far better than the real live people in my life. As showcased by the little shit standing in my entryway. “I told you not to come.” I practically whine to her, shooting a glare at Ethan as he chuckles behind her.

“Yeah, Kitty-Kat, I know. But you’re well aware that I rarely do what I’m told.” She sticks out her tongue at me, whirling and sloppily smacking a kiss to Ethan’s cheek. “See you later, Tin-Man.”

I exaggeratedly gag at her cutesy nickname, which only prompts her to giggle and kiss him again with a dramatic moan that would give any nineties romance movie a run for its money. He catches on to her game and does the same.

“In a while, Doll-Face.” I’m barely able to catch a glimpse of the grimace on my sister’s face as he chooses the absolute wrong nickname, given our history with the haunted doll who carries my sister’s namesake.

Like the child I am, I push the bright red button that’s been dangled in front of my face as I move to the counter to refill my empty glass of wine. “Yeah, Doll-Face. He’ll see you in his nightmares tonight.”

“You’re lucky I love you, bitch. Otherwise I’d stab you in your sleep.” She sneers at me and I grin at her before frowning at the five drops of wine that fall from the bottle into my glass. Damn. There goes one bottle.

“You girls have fun. I’ll be at Christian’s if you need anything.” Ethan makes a quick exit, and I realize with him now gone, my sister’s attention is now wholly fixated on me.

“Jeez. What did I do now?” I grumble as I open the wine fridge beneath my kitchen island and peruse my many options. Sweet and red. Definitely sweet and red.

“Nothing. Guilty conscience, much?” She slides onto one of my barstools with a grace only my sister can muster. Though, ten years of ballet will do that for a girl. I was decidedly not interested in the same hobbies. While she was learning to be the epitome of grace and femininity, I was mucking out stalls and expressing anal glands on every dog in town.

“I just came to save you from your pity party.” She shrugs as I grab a second glass from the hanging rack under my wall cabinet. After opening the bottle, I pour a healthy amount into both and slide hers across the counter for her to grab before taking a large drink of mine. My legs are tingling, which is that oh so favorite feeling that I get when the buzz starts to really set in.

“I’m not wallowing.” I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my cropped hoodie and stare her down, she meets my gaze without flinching.

“You are and you know it.” She takes a dainty sip of her wine and I glare at her glass until she sighs and knocks the whole thing back in one go.

Peer pressure for the win! She knows if she has any chance of joining me in my quest to forget the deal I made with my mother–or whatever she’s actually here for–that she has to trek the low road with me. She loves it though, I know she does. This just gives her the perfect person to point the finger of blame at when Ethan has to fireman-carry her home.

“Nah. I don’t wallow. I mourn. There’s a difference.” I lean my hip against the counter, refilling her glass for her.

“And what, pray tell, are you mourning tonight?”

“The chance to have a nice, quiet vacation at your wedding extravaganza, of course. I had plans, you know, and they didn’t include sharing a room with a stinky man.”

“They don’t all stink,” She grins. “Besides, it’s Cancun, Kitty-Kat, and you’re not supposed to hibernate in your room with a stack of romance novels in Cancun.”

“I’ll have you know that that’s exactly what any self-respecting book dragon would do!” I raise my hand to my chest and open my mouth in fake outrage. “And I wasn’t going to do it in my room. Obviously. I was going to read them on the beach while sexy cabana boys bring me endless fruity cocktails and fan me with giant palm leaves. Duh!”

She rolls her eyes, spinning her glass on the counter with the stem as I drain my own before refilling it. “I don’t understand you, Kat. You’ll swoon over all the book boyfriends in the world–so I know you’re a romantic at heart–but you refuse to even allow yourself to experience it in the real world.”

“It’s simple really,” I shrug, licking a stray drop of wine off of my glass. “Book boyfriends do it better.”

If she rolled her eyes any harder, they’d pick up like a helicopter and fly out of her face. “You wouldn’t know though, would you?”

“You’re totally harshin’ my mellow, bitch,” I sigh, sticking out my bottom lip.

“Fine. I’ll leave it alone for now.” She raises a perfectly tweezed brow at me and then grins. “For now, let’s party!”

* * *

“Ick! No! He was a total pansy!” I chuckle as Annabelle kicks my foot extra hard.

We’re currently laying on our backs on my plush rug with our feet propped up on my couch. Two empty bottles of wine at our sides, and a third passing between us–our glasses long since abandoned after a dance party that will leave me with bruises, I’m sure.

My sister and I are professional wine ingestors. We may not be able to taste a single note of pine or whatever the hell aficionados can detect, but we can handle our liquor like an Irishman at a pub. In other words, we aren’t cheap dates.

“I mean, maybe a little, but he showed promise!” She cackles when I kick her back.

“He was a doormat, Belle. I need someone with a far stronger backbone to handle me. I’m too…” I wave my hands in the air before realizing I’m holding the bottle, sending the red nectar of life sloshing onto my sister’s light pink blouse. She glares at me, snatching the bottle before taking a swig. I almost think I got a way with it before she puckers her lips and aims her face towards me.

“No!” I try to scramble away from the fountain she’s made her mouth into, but I’m too clumsy–my movements too slow–and she gets me right in the chest. “You bitch!”

We collapse into a fit of giggles when her spout turns into a dribble and leaks down her face and into her hair. I’m pretty sure she got more on herself than she got on me. Laying back down, my arm resting against hers, quiet falls around us.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I’m doomed! There’s no way I’ll be able to find someone in time,” I groan.

“It’s not a matter of whether you’ll find someone, you can walk out onto the street right now and yell out asking for a date and probably end up with a dozen applicants. It’s whether or not you’ll find someone who you think is worth your time. And considering who you are…”

And that’s just it. I’m picky. My sister knows me better than I know myself–which is far better than the tabloids know me–so she knows I’m not a bitch, or stuck up. I’ve just read far too many romances for me to be content with just anything. I don’t settle for good enough. And maybe that’s a bad thing.

But I can’t help it. The book boyfriends found me first.

“-she said it helped her out a lot.” My sister finishes whatever she was saying just as I tune back in.

“Huh?”

“You’re such a space cadet, Kat.” She snipes, but smiles to soften the blow as I wince.

“I live in a fictional world, Belle. You know me.” I shrug as best I can where I’m laying as she sits up, moving to a cross-legged position.

“I was just telling you about this site that Naomi told me about.” Blech. Naomi. Annabelle glares at me as if she can read my thoughts and knows that I’m dissing on her friend. I just smile innocently at her.

Naomi is alright, I guess. She just annoys the fuck out of me with her screechy voice and woo-girl ways. She’s like the living, breathing definition of a sorority chick. To each their own, but I wouldn’t hang out with her. Which is another reason I’m dreading the wedding as the girl is a bridesmaid. I’ll be stuck with her throughout all of the bridesmaid events and more.

“It could solve your date issue.” Through the fog of my brain, that little tidbit latches on and catches my interest.

“How’s that?”

“Just come here and see.” She pulls her laptop off of the couch and types some shit in. I take the time to try and drag myself up to my ass, albeit clumsily as hell. My head spins a bit, but after a second, it goes away.

“Alright, what am I looking at?” I scoot myself to her side and peer at the screen, though the words all look far too blurry to read. They should fix that. It can’t be good for business.

“It’s called Book-A-Boyfriend. You basically hire a guy to be your date for whatever you want.” I shove at her shoulder, but only manage to push myself back to a lying position.

“I’m not hiring a prostitute to be my date to your wedding, Demon-Doll. That’s disgusting.” I groan, submitting defeat to gravity and stay laid out on my back. When did the room start spinning? “I mean…to each their own, but I’m not that type of girl.” I wave my hand in the air as I close my eyes, shifting until my head reaches the edge of the rug and touches the cool floor.

That’s better.

“It’s not an escort service, Kat! Jeez. I know you’re far too much of a stick in the mud to even consider that.” She laughs as I throw an arm out to slap her wherever I can reach. “I think this could be a great way for you to get mom off your back, at least for this event.”

“I could just…you know…show up with my bad self. Go stag. There’s not much she can do. I’m great company, you know.”

“Actually, she told me if I don’t make sure you have a date, that she’s going to show up with one for you.”

“The two of you are always conspiring against me! You’re evil!”

“Mwahaha!” She gives me her best evil laugh, which is decidedly adorable, before adding, “It’s only because we hate seeing you so alone and miserable.”

“I’m not miserable! Where did you get such a horrible idea?” I pout, my eyes still closed as if that’ll block out both the spinning of my surroundings and her analyzing ways.

“You are! You try to deny it, but I know you, Kat. You forget that I was the one who held you when you were twelve while you cried because Jackson didn’t kiss you under the mistletoe at the middle school Christmas dance.” I groan, rubbing my hands over my face as she reminds me of the moment I stopped believing in happily ever afters. Pathetic, I know. “You’re a softy, as much as you try to pretend you’re not. You had a bookshelf full of binders just for your own romantic life plan, four of which were for your wedding alone.”

“You should have stayed out of my room!” I open my eyes to glare at her, seeing her satisfied smirk as she continues looking at her laptop screen.

“Now, this isn’t going to fix all that for you, but it will buy you some time with Mom. And who knows? Maybe you can keep the hired man around for future events until you have something figured out.” She shrugs casually as if she didn’t just propose that I hire myself a boyfriend. As if it’s that easy.

“And what happens when the press gets hold of that information?” I eye her, daring her to find a way out of that one. I’m not a movie star or anything like that, but I am a public figure.

“Actually, Book-A-Boyfriend has great policies for that. No one will ever know, and the men are contractually obligated to swear until their dying breath that it’s all real. Financial motivation and all that. They don’t even have pictures or anything on the site to protect the information. The only people who could possibly have an inkling is their employees and possibly previous customers, who are just as individually bound to secrecy. The guys don’t even know who else works for the same company.”

“Yeah, because that always works. Besides, if they aren’t showing you pictures of the men, how are you supposed to choose one? Do you just get assigned? That seems silly. Like what if I’m assigned a blonde man, but someone in my life knows that I would never date a blonde?”

“That’s the easy part, all you have to do is fill out this questionnaire that covers all that. It even asks about personality traits and everything.” She tries to slide the laptop towards me, but the screen is still too blurry for me to make out anything, so I wave her away.

“I can’t read that shit. They made the font too small.” She chuckles before positioning it back on her lap.

“Fine. I’ll do it for you.” She hums under her breath as she starts clicking.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Alarm has me bolting upright. “You’re just going to do something stupid like ask for a man that hates animals, or one that can’t stand it when a woman eats like a real human being on dates, or…something.”

She gasps, slapping her hand to her chest, “I would never! I know you pretty damn well Kathryn Marie Sharpe! Do you even know me? Besides, if I don’t do it for you, it won’t happen at all. We leave on Sunday, we have to do something. Or would you rather take whatever date Mom manages to wrangle into it for you?”

I shiver in horror. My mom has terrible taste in men. For me, at least, she managed to find herself a damn good one in my dad. He’s amazing, even if he does stand idly by while she plays matchmaker for me. I think he even gets a kick out of it. Asshole.

I groan, scooting over and snagging the bottle of wine from the floor on her other side. Taking a large gulp, I brace myself and say, “Alright, fine. Let’s do this.”

She squeals like a child, her face bright and split in half with a smile. It makes my chest swell and I wonder why the hell I put up so much of a fight when I know caving to her demands makes her happy like that.

“Okay…that’s all your credit card information. Good thing I have that shit memorized,” She snickers. “Now, time for the questionnaire. Insert your information…blah blah blah. Alright! Question one: what’s your preferred age range for your potential boyfriend? Keep it in increments of five.”

Oh, that’s why.

Pushing away my reservations–it’s not like I have many options at the moment anyways–I decide to just go with it. “Hmm. I’m twenty-nine, so…” I think about it for a second. “Twenty-five to…forty-five.”

“You dog!”

“What? Age-gaps are a kink.” I shrug one shoulder, grinning. “Everybody loves a good daddy domination.”

We both instantly start singing Nationhaven’s unofficial remix of Chloe Adam’s Dirty Thoughts, before falling into giggles. After we’ve finally calmed down, she turns back to the laptop and types in the answer. “Okay. So. Next question. Rate the following traits on a scale of one to five, with one being whatever and five being essential."

“Got it.” I wave for her to keep going when she glances at me to see if I’m listening.

“Sense of humor.”

“Five.”

“Confidence.”

“Five.”

“Charming or romantic.”

“Five.”

“Attentiveness.”

“Five. Wait.” I grab her shoulder as if stopping her from walking into traffic. “Would that make them seem needy?”

“No, dumbass. It just means they’re good at paying attention to you. Like…they’ll be able to predict your needs or figure it out.”

“Right. Five. Keep going.” She giggles, turning back to the screen.

“Good conversationalist.”

“Five.”

“Adventurous.”

“Five.” I like to play it safe, I’ve always wanted someone to push me out of my self imposed padded room of safety. Hold up. I’m not actually looking for a real date here. This is just to hire one. But still…an adventurous date would make the trip more fun, right?

“Kindness.”

“Five.”

“Intelligence.”

“Five.”

“Your expectations are ridiculous.” She cackles and I slap her arm.

“Hey, I might as well get my money’s worth if I’m doing this. It can’t be cheap.”

“Point.” She sticks her pointer finger out as if marking a checkbox. “Alright, next question!”

And on and on it goes, until the open bottle of wine is empty and we’re three quarters of the way through the next one. My stomach starts to hurt from laughing, my face is sore from smiling, and we’ve ordered way too much Chinese food for two small women to ever consume sometime in the middle of it all.

We’re finally at the last question where it asks if we have any more questions or preferences to provide. Annabelle cackles maniacally before typing something and I shoot forward, nearly knocking the entire laptop out of her hands in my drunken, clumsy move.

“What did you do?!” She grins at me as she holds the laptop out of my reach, I end up practically on top of her trying to get to it. She frantically moves her finger over the touchpad before clicking down.

“Too late!” She sings songs and I slump in defeat, leaving all of my dead weight on top of her.

“Annabelle!” I whine, earning her full body laughter beneath me.

“What? I know how much you like them thick trouser snakes, I had to let them know!”

“You’re quite literally a demon doll.”

“Well that’s weird.” She stiffens and I use my arms to push myself up so I can see over her shoulder.

“What?”

“It didn’t go through.” She clicks again and the screen fades as if submitting before returning. “Huh.” She clicks again and the screen finally switches to something, but I still can’t quite read it. “It says there was an error and to try again later. Weird.”

“Well, we tried! Oh well.” I roll myself to the floor beside her on my back and both of her faces glare down at me. Woah. “I guess it’s not meant to be.”

“Well don’t come running to me when mom sets you up with someone for the trip.”

“Just tell her I have someone.”

“And when no one shows up?”

I shrug. “I’ll tell her I must have gotten stood up.”

“She’ll never buy it. She’s going to be pissed.”

“Won’t be the first time. Now, come on. Let’s do something fun for once.”

“What? Like watch another romantic comedy?”

“Maybe.” I draw out the word and she rolls her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll get the popcorn. You get more wine.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir!” I salute her, making her giggle as we struggle to stand up.

What can I say? My sister is my best friend.

Book-A-Boyfriend Questionnaire

Welcome to the magical realm of our Book-A-Boyfriend service! Brace yourself for a journey filled with enchantment, where your wildest fantasies of the perfect boyfriend come to life.

Whether you need legendary arm candy for a red carpet event, a charming partner to dazzle your friends at social events, or a knight in shining armor to rescue you from those never-ending relationship inquiries at family gatherings; we've got your back!

So, buckle up and prepare to embark on a wild ride of whimsy, romance, and laughter as we delve into this invasive–yet entertaining–questionnaire.

Let's find your ideal make-believe beau and make those dreams come true!

1.Your Personal Information:

a. Name:

Kathryn Sharpe

b. Age:

29

c. Gender:

Female

2. Preferred Age Range for Your Boyfriend (Please Stick to Increments of 5):

a. Minimum age:

(let's not go below legal limits, shall we?)

25

b. Maximum age:

(we know how some of you like a silver fox)

45

3. Personality Traits:

On a scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being "Meh, whatever" and 5 being "Absolutely essential, I won't settle for less," rate the following traits:

a. Sense of Humor:

(because laughter is the best accessory)

5

b. Confidence:

(because you deserve a confident arm candy)

5

c. Charming/Romantic:

(because who doesn't want a smooth-talker?)

5

d. Attentiveness:

(because you're the star of the show, darling!)

5

e. Good Conversationalist:

(because small talk can be a real party pooper)

5

f. Adventurous:

(because life's too short for dull moments)

5

g. Kindness/Empathy:

(because a little warmth goes a long way)

5

h. Intelligence:

(because you need someone who can keep up with you)

5

i. Ambition/Drive:

(because you're a go-getter and deserve the same)

5

j. Other:

(please specify, and feel free to get creative)

Anticipates your every need but in a hidden moody kind of way.

Creative - in the bedroom and out.

Protective - “Who hurt you?!”

And he must look good in grey sweatpants if you know what I mean. ;)

4. Interests and Hobbies:

Tell us about the interests and hobbies you want your new boyfriend to have. Don't hold back! Whether it's extreme knitting or underwater basket weaving, we're here for it.

Must be willing to participate in the craziest of crazy events.

That’s all you’re getting out of me...

5. Relationship Expectations:

a. How would you like your new boyfriend to act in public?:

(e.g., PDA enthusiast, professional charmer, casual cool, etc.)

Hmm…I like it all. PDA, reservation, all business, caveman possessiveness.

In short…he needs to be able to read a situation and act accordingly.

b. Are there any specific scenarios or activities you'd like your new boyfriend to participate in?:

(Feel free to go wild! It is your fairytale after all.)

I’d like it to be a surprise for him.

Good luck, Mr. Boyfriend.

6. Physical Preferences:

Here's where it gets goooood! Tell us all about your ideal man candy. We've got so many flavors to choose from. ;)

a. Height range:

(tall, dark, and handsome, or petite and adorable?)

I’m not fussed. Just taller than my 5 foot 4.

b. Body type:

(ripped abs or cuddly teddy bear?)

I need muscles. Thank you.

c. Hair color:

(natural or unicorn-inspired?)

Natural. Not fussed about the shade.

d. Eye color:

(deep and dreamy or sparkling and mischievous?)

Does it matter? As long as he has the confidence to meet my eyes, I don’t care what color they are.

e. Other physical preferences:

(tattoos, piercings, mermaid tails, etc.)

I mean…if you have any surly vampires or growly shifters, give them to me. Otherwise…

7. Availability and Duration:

a. Date(s) and duration for which you require the services of your new boyfriend:

From this upcoming Sunday the 21st of April to Wednesday the 1st of May.

b. Is there any flexibility in terms of the dates?:

(Because life happens, right?)

I’m flexible in many ways…my calendar is not one of them. No.

C. Where is your boyfriend going and when should he meet you to head there?:

Cancun. Sunday night before the flight at my parents.

8. Additional Requirements:

a. Is acting experience or good improvisational skills a must?:

(Are we talking Hollywood-level talent or a knack for cheesy role-playing?)

Give me a man who knows what he’s doing please. I’ll need someone to think on his feet. Adapt and overcome. Not get me caught by my very perceptive family.

b. Any specific cultural or social background preferences?:

(You know, just in case you need a new boyfriend who moonlights as a sushi chef or salsa dancer.)

Nope. As long as his name isn’t Brody.

Accents are cool though…

c. Are there any special skills or knowledge your new boyfriend should possess?:

(Astrology guru? Rubik's Cube wizard? Juggling flaming torches?)

Anything that he chooses as his back story. Don’t lie and say you’re a doctor if you have no idea what the Hyoid bone is or what it’s known for.

d. How should your new boyfriend dress for the occasion?:

(Sharp suit, hipster chic, or maybe a costume from a different era?)

He should bring a nice range of suits, nice shirts, swim gear, athletic gear, normal jeans and shirts. There will be nicer events as well as more casual. Just nothing ridiculous or out of place.

9. Customer Photo:

We'd love to see your fabulous face! Please upload a recent photo of yourself, so your new boyfriend can recognize you.

10. Family Information:

a. Describe your family's unique quirks and dynamics:

(e.g., Uncle Bob's obsession with conspiracy theories, Grandma's competitive bingo nights, etc.)

Yeah. I’m going to leave that as a surprise. Let’s see how he fares.

b. Any family traditions or customs he should be aware of?:

(Like the annual family arm-wrestling tournament or the secret handshake only true family members know.)

Hehe.

c. How should he interact with specific family members?:

(Should he pretend to be a fan of Dad's terrible dad jokes? Act impressed by Cousin Sally's collection of spoons? The more details, the better!)

Don’t disrespect anyone. I know people…just so you know.

d. Any family members he should avoid or be extra cautious around?:

(Watch out for Aunt Martha's cheek pinches or the family pet that's suspiciously too intelligent.)

He’ll just have to figure that out himself. Where’s the fun in making it easy?

e. Special requests for dealing with family drama?:

(Need him to divert attention from your sister's new tattoo or join forces with you in the Great Pie Debate of 2019?)

Just have my back and we’re good. That’s all I ask.

11. Budget:

a. What's your budget for hiring the perfect pretend boyfriend?:

(Remember: love don't come cheap. Fake or not!)

Money is not an issue. Give me the best.

b. What notes would you like to add about travel, expenses, and expectations for the event?:

(Would you absolutely die if he had to fly coach while the rest of your family is in first class? Please note that any requirements for this section above a base amount–that is noted at the last step of this process–will be tacked on to your fee.)

I don’t think it matters. He can fly on the family jet. Just handle the rest of the arrangements and I’ll pay whatever.

12. Additional Information:

Any other hilarious, outrageous, or out-of-the-box requests, requirements, or confessions you'd like to share with us? This is your chance to spill the beans!

He has to 100% be great in the sack.

Like…feral.

He needs to destroy me. Make me walk funky for at least three days post coitus. It’s a must.

Wait...am I allowed to say that?

Thank you for embracing the fun and completing the questionnaire!

(If only finding a real boyfriend was this easy, huh?)

Your responses, along with your uploaded photo, will guide us in discovering the perfect make-believe beau who matches your imagination and fulfills your wildest dreams.

Get ready to embrace the magic as we whisk you away to a realm where intrusive questions vanish and you reign supreme.

Prepare for a whirlwind of laughter, adventure, and unforgettable memories, as your picture perfect partner in pretend-boyfriend-crime keeps those nosy family members at bay. Let's make your dreams come true and create an experience that dazzles the world!

Press Submit to unleash us now!

Chapter 5

It’s Sunday, the day before we all leave for Cancun and, somehow, I find myself shifting uncomfortably on the ostentatiously expensive, snow-white couch in my mother's meticulously decorated living room. The couch, as elegant as it appears, is far from comfortable. It's as if it was designed for interrogations rather than relaxation. Which must be exactly why my mother bought it. For moments like these.

"So Kathryn," she begins, her lips pursed in a way that sends a chill down my spine. "When exactly will this enigmatic man of yours be gracing us with his presence?"

I clear my throat, trying to appear nonchalant as I smooth my hands over my jeans. "Well, you see, the thing is..."

Before I can finish, the front door slams open, and Annabelle breezes in like a gust of fresh air. "Sorry I'm late! Traffic was an absolute nightmare." She drops her bag with a thud and plops onto the sofa beside me, shooting me a sly, knowing grin.

I shoot her a look as my mother's hawk-like attention shifts to her.

"That's quite alright, dear," my mother says, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Now, your sister was just about to enlighten me about her new beau, the one who will be accompanying her to your wedding."

Annabelle's eyebrows shoot up, and her eyes sparkle with faux surprise. "A new beau? Do tell!"

I glare at her, fully aware that she's enjoying my predicament. "Yes, well, he was supposed to meet me here, but it seems something came up."

My mother's frown deepens, her eyes narrowing. "Couldn't make it? But you were so adamant that he would be here."

I wave a hand dismissively, trying to defuse the situation. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Annabelle snorts, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Or maybe he got one glimpse of your terrifying dragon energy and went running for the hills."

"Annabelle!" My mother's voice sharpens, and I can't help but kick my sister's foot lightly in agreement.

"What? I'm just saying, she has a habit of scaring men away," Annabelle retorts, her grin widening.

I open my mouth to fire back at her when the doorbell rings, cutting through the tension. We all turn towards the sound, our heads swiveling in unison.

My mother's face lights up, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Oh, that must be him!" She bustles off to answer it, smoothing her already pristinely coiffed hair down as she goes, her heels clicking on the polished floor.

The moment she turns the corner and is out of eyesight, Annabelle waggles her eyebrows at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Busted."

I slump back against the couch, simply relieved to no longer be under my mother’s intense scrutiny. “Shut up, Demon-Doll.”

She glares at me, but any retort is cut off as my mother's delighted voice carries down the hall, filled with genuine warmth. "Well aren't you just as handsome as Kathryn said! Please, come in!"

Wait, what?

Heavy footsteps approach as my spine snaps straight, unease prickling the back of my neck like a warning of impending danger. A man fills the doorway to the living room, and I find myself gaping at the specimen before me. Just under six feet tall, athletic yet not overly bulky, with tousled dark blond hair and a clean-shaven face that shows off his dimples. His electric, piercing blue eyes are crinkled at the corners as he smiles widely, like he’s absolutely up to no good.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. Got held up at the hospital." He winks at me surreptitiously–a secret shared between us. What? I stare blankly, unable to form words as Annabelle giggles beside me, but even that doesn’t garner a reaction from me in my shocked state.

My mother claps her hands, her voice practically screeching from her excitement. "Oh wonderful! A doctor! What's your specialty?"

He turns that megawatt grin on her, leaving me to finally be able to pull in air as the weight of his gaze abandons me. "General surgery, ma'am. I'm in my last year of residency."

"How impressive! And so good of you to take time away from such important work to join us." She beams at him, her eyes shining with approval, before lunging forward to wrap him in a viselike hug. She has absolutely no respect for personal space. Yet, he simply chuckles a deep, resonating sound, and returns the embrace with genuine warmth.

Meanwhile, I'm still sitting paralyzed in shock, my mind racing. Just who is this mystery Casanova, and why is he here?

Annabelle leans in and whispers gleefully, her voice filled with awe, "Damn Kat, he is fine."

The man seems to balk as if he just remembered something terrible, before smiling widely at my mom. "Pardon my rudeness, ma’am. Name's Wilder, Kat’s boyfriend. She told me so much about you."

His southern drawl caresses my ears, and I can't tear my eyes from his athletic frame as he charms my mother effortlessly. When he faces me, his gaze bores into mine, and I feel my cheeks flush under the intensity of his stare.

Oh God. He broke me.

"Hey, baby." He grins, eyes twinkling as he saunters over to me, all confident swagger and gleeful mischief. Before I can raise a single objection, or figure out what the hell is going on, he pulls me off the couch and into a firm embrace. His masculine scent envelops me, sending butterflies swirling in my stomach.

What the hell is that smell? I can’t quite place it. I'm hyper-aware of his arms wrapped around my waist, the hard planes of his chest pressing against me, and the warmth of his body seeping through my skin and straight to my soul.

As we separate, his fingertips trail lightly down my lower spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I suppress a shiver at the contact, my heart pounding in my chest, my brain still not quite catching up with the moment. His eyes spark knowingly, taking in my dazed reaction, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me.

Leaning in close, his breath warm against my ear, he whispers, "I'm Wilder, from Book-A-Boyfriend. Just follow my lead," his voice, filled with a promise of adventure and excitement.

As realization dawns on me, my heart takes a momentary pause, slowing down just a tad, but not entirely. I mean, it's hard to stay calm when the man in front of me isn't just good-looking; he's the human embodiment of a warm summer's day. If charm were a currency, he'd be a billionaire.

My sister Annabelle watches our interaction eagerly, like this is the best day of her life. I shoot her a helpless look, and she winks back at me, clearly enjoying the chaos. Somewhere in my addled brain, I make a mental note to strangle her later.

Wilder places his hand more firmly on my lower back and spins us to face my mom, his touch setting off a buzz beneath my skin. Just when Mom opens her mouth to, no doubt, bombard the two of us with a billion questions, the doorbell sounds again–its chime echoing through the room ominously–and she spins on her heels to go answer it, a confused look settling over her features.

It’s only a few seconds before she returns, accompanied by an unfamiliar but imposing figure. He stands just over six feet tall, his muscular frame unable to be hidden even beneath a perfectly tailored suit. His salt-and-pepper hair is neatly combed, and a well-trimmed beard frames his face.

But it's the penetrating steel gray eyes that captivate me. They sweep the room before settling on me, as if peering straight into my soul.

"Apologies for my tardiness." His voice rumbles deep in his chest, commanding the room's attention. He strides over and takes my hand, pressing a polite kiss to my knuckles while holding my gaze. "Traffic was dreadful. I'm Wyatt, Kathryn's boyfriend."

My mother's eyebrows shoot up, her face a picture of confusion. "Her boyfriend? But I thought..." She looks between Wyatt and Wilder, her eyes wide.

Cue the record scratch sound, followed by an awkward silence so thick that I can’t draw a single breath in. My blood rushes in my ears, my stomach bottoming out, and I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

But then, like both a saving grace and a warning of impending doom…the doorbell rings yet again.

Every head in the room jerks to look towards the front door, every one of us frozen in place. It takes a moment before my mother shoots me a meaningful look and moves to answer it once more. Annabelle catches my eye, her confusion as clear as mine, though she has an amused shine behind it, whereas mine is pure panic.

Heavy footsteps sound down the hall before a hulking figure fills the doorway. Well over six feet and solidly muscular, sporting artful tattoos on his forearms, he practically brushes the top of the doorframe with his head as enters the living room. Long, wavy brown hair reaches past his shoulders, like the mane of a lion. His slightly wild beard does nothing to diminish the hard edges of his striking face. But it's the eyes that snare me–a mesmerizing nebula of gold and green, framed by dark lashes.

His gravelly voice cuts through the tension in the room. "Apologies for my late arrival." His British accent catches me off guard. "I'm Emrys. Kat's boyfriend."

Emrys. Even his name is intriguing, carrying a tone of danger and excitement. He moves towards me with the powerful grace of a jungle cat and I'm enveloped in his scent–earthy and primal. His massive frame practically shoves both Wilder and Wyatt away from me with ease, parting them like the red sea, before pulling me off my feet and slamming his lips over mine.

The kiss is a sudden, jarring collision, a wild and untamed meeting of lips that sends shockwaves through my body. Emrys' mouth is demanding and insistent, his teeth nipping at my lower lip in a way that's both thrilling and terrifying. His tongue invades my mouth, a primal claim that leaves no room for doubt or hesitation. I'm caught, trapped in his embrace, my body responding with a heat and urgency I've never felt before.

It's a kiss that doesn't ask for permission, doesn't wait for an invitation. It takes, it conquers, it overwhelms.

And when he finally releases me, leaving me breathless and disoriented, the silence that replaces the moment is suffocating. As he lets me slowly slide down his body and back to my feet, all eyes turn to me, awaiting an explanation. I wet my lips, my pulse thundering in my ears.

"I, uh..." I stammer, shrinking under the weight of everyone's stares, panic rising in my chest.

I swear if this was back in the times of old, I’d faint. I really fucking would. Unfortunately, I remain jarringly conscious.

Annabelle is practically vibrating with joy and amusement at my mother’s side–who is too busy gaping at me wordlessly to notice. But instead of being able to enjoy such a rare and momentous moment as my mother being at a loss for words, I’m stuck shitting bricks at the center of everyone’s attention.

Think, Kat! I scold myself, scrambling for any plausible explanation. But the hope for coherent thought has long since abandoned me.

I’m so fucked.

Chapter 6

The deafening silence lingers as all eyes remain locked on me, awaiting an explanation I'm unable to provide. My mother's face is frozen in polite bewilderment, no doubt fighting off a conniption of epic proportions. Annabelle looks fit to burst, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. She's enjoying this way too much. I might just kill her.

Meanwhile, the three boyfriends are sizing each other up like wild animals about to battle for territory, overwhelming testosterone thick in the air.

Wyatt's refined politeness has vanished, replaced by a predatory stillness. His eyes bore into Emrys’ with cool calculation.

And Emrys...he oozes casual dominance, utterly unbothered by the tension. His massive arms cross over his chest as he meets Wyatt's stare head-on. The two size each other up like prizefighters.

Wilder seems torn between amusement and indignation at having his spotlight stolen. His fingers tap restlessly on his thighs, energy coiled tight beneath his easygoing charm as he somehow musters a casual stance leaning against a wall. His gaze eventually slides to me, a glint of humor lighting up and amplifying the already electric blue color. He winks, and heat floods my cheeks and I bite my lip, looking away quickly.

"Well!" My mother's too-bright–and obviously shaking–voice shatters the moment. "I need to- I’m going to make some tea." And she jerks on her heels and practically flees the room, selfishly stealing away my only possible escape as all eyes swing back to me.

Annabelle's eyes dance with glee at my barely concealed look of horror. “I’d love to spill the tea. I mean, have some tea.” She cackles as she too spins on her heels and follows Mom out of the living room. That little snake is enjoying every second of my suffering. Payback will be sweet.

A tense silence fills the room as the three men regard me expectantly. But I'll be damned if I let this absurd situation fluster me any further. Planting my hands on my hips, I fix each suitor with an icy stare. "Alright gentlemen. Someone better start talking and explain what the hell is happening here. I’m assuming you’re all from Book-A-Boyfriend.”

Wilder's lips quirk with amusement, his blue eyes dancing. "Yes ma'am."

Wyatt blinks, momentarily taken aback by my sudden shift in gears. It takes him a second before he straightens his tie, a look of respect sliding over his features, and he gives me a single nod.

Fighting the urge to preen under his approving stare, my eyes flick to Emrys, and I choke on air when I catch his reaction. His golden-green eyes are ablaze at my show of fire, a wolfish grin cutting his rugged features in half. He crosses his massive arms, muscles bulging as his gaze flicks over me as if seeing me in a new light. His animalistic kiss flashes in my mind at a rapid, stomach-churning pace and I quickly look away.

Nope. Not today, Satan.

I redirect my attention back to Wilder–the safest of the three. I hope. "You first, cowboy. Spill it."

Wilder pushes off the wall, his fit frame moving with a casual grace I would have to sell my soul to ever even try to replicate. "Well darling, seems there's been a mighty big misunderstanding. We all got requests for a Miss Kathryn Sharpe." His smooth drawl and captivating gaze has me struggling to stay focused.

Wyatt stiffens, his professional veneer re-establishing itself. "Indeed. It appears Book-A-Boyfriend had a system error resulting in your profile being sent to each of us simultaneously."

Emrys simply grunts in response.

I struggle to rein in my scattered thoughts. Three booked boyfriends meant triple the bill for services I didn't request. While I can afford it, the chaos offends my sensibilities.

I tap my foot, pointing a finger at each of them in warning as I pull out my phone. "You three don't move a single well-defined muscle."

Searching their website, I finally find the number for Book-A-Boyfriend and press call. They can be the ones to sort out this fiasco. It rings and rings and rings before going straight to a cheery voicemail greeting. I hang up and try again, impatience building as I receive voicemail once more.

Frustrated, I huff and flick my hair over my shoulder. "Well, it seems Book-A-Boyfriend is unavailable at the moment."

I turn to Wilder first, intent on dismissing him. He must see it in my face somewhere because, before I can speak, he drawls, "Now hold on just a minute, darlin'. I believe I'll be sticking around." His cheeky grin makes it clear he's enjoying this far too much.

I open my mouth to protest, but Wyatt cuts in and I note the resolve on his face. "I must agree. My services were requested and I have yet to complete the job." His staunch tone brokers no argument.

I whirl around to face Emrys, but he’s already shaking his head no at me.

I'm rendered momentarily speechless as the three men gaze at me with unwavering resolve.

Why? Just why?!

In the charged silence, Wyatt smooths his tie, reclaiming his dignified aura. Wilder waggles his eyebrows playfully. And Emrys simply watches me, a predator waiting for his moment to pounce.

Before I can collect my scattered thoughts, my mother and Annabelle return, carrying a tea tray laden with delicate cups and saucers. Showtime. I straighten my spine, tilt my chin up, and settle a knowing smile on my lips.

"Well, everything's all sorted out now!" I announce breezily before any of them can speak. "You see, these dashing gentlemen..." I trail off, letting my gaze linger on each of them in turn.

"They’re all my boyfriends." I finish with a dramatic flourish of my hand.

A stunned silence follows my proclamation. Even Annabelle looks shocked, nearly dropping the tea tray. "Your...boyfriends." My mother finally sputters.

"Why yes." I loop my arms through Wilder and Wyatt's elbows, pressed between them. "I'm a modern woman, Mother. No need to limit myself to just one man."

Emrys steps closer, his imposing frame dominating the space behind me. Just…there. I somehow find myself leaning back into his solid warmth before I can stop myself. Wilder jumps in, smooth as honey. "We may seem an unlikely match, but we all adore your Kat here." His charming wink makes my mother flush scarlet.

Wyatt, unruffled as ever, inclines his head politely. "We promise to be nothing less than devoted to her. We value your daughter immensely.”

My mother just stares, opening and closing her mouth silently like a fish out of water. For once, she seems at a complete loss for words. It’s priceless.

Annabelle is grinning wildly, enjoying this immensely. “Well Kat, I never knew you had it in you."

“I’m full of surprises.” I lift one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, mother. I didn’t quite know how to broach the subject with you.” I angle my chin high, regarding my speechless mother defiantly, just daring her to judge me.

But she simply blinks slowly, processing.

"I guess this explains why you’re consistently thwarting my attempts at finding you a man.” Her face begins to transform into a smile and she fumbles to hand the tray of tea to Annabelle before clapping once. “Well then! How wonderful you can all join us!" She feigns excitement and joy, but her high-pitched voice betrays her shaken nerves.

But I don't care. For once, I've rendered the great matchmaker at a loss. And maybe, just maybe, this absurd scenario is exactly what I need to get out of my comfort zone.

One thing is certain–this will be a vacation to remember.

Chapter 7

I shift in my seat, surreptitiously eyeing my three unwelcome travel companions as we rocket through the air on the family’s private jet. We’re all seated in the massive almost living room-style area with wide, comfy La-Z-Boy style chairs and small tables artfully placed between sets of two. I’m sitting next to Emrys while Wilder and Wyatt are directly across from us.

Wilder is regaling Annabelle with animated stories from the hospital, reveling in being the center of attention. His charming magnetism has the flight attendants fawning and flirting every time they pass by. Even though he doesn’t return the attention, it's annoying. And intriguing. Mostly annoying though. Obviously.

Wyatt sits with refined poise, pleasantly absorbing my mother's enthusiastic ramblings about our upcoming family wedding events. His polished composure is impressive considering my mother could induce a coma with her exhaustive monologues.

Meanwhile, Emrys dominates the space beside me. His penetrating gaze remains locked on me, studying me, probing me, as if trying to peer into my soul. A predator biding his time before devouring prey.

I shift again and grab my latest romance novel, intent on escaping into its pages, when Avery–the captain’s–voice crackles overhead. "Apologies, Sharpes, we've received word of some unexpected turbulence ahead. As a precaution, we ask that you fasten your seatbelts and prepare for a bumpy ride."

I barely have time to process his words when the plane suddenly drops, sending my heart into my throat. Gripping my armrests till my knuckles turn white, I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. I've never been a good flier.

Just when I think it's over, the plane jolts violently again, my whole body tensing as items tumble around the cabin. My own rapid heartbeat thunders in my ears, drowning out the concerned murmurs around me.

A warm hand covers mine and I jump, my eyes flying open to find Emrys gazing at me intently. "I've got you." His gravelly vow is somehow audible over the chaos. His touch is a brand, searing into my skin. My breath catches as we lock eyes, the rest of the world fading away for a suspended moment.

Then the plane pitches again and I grip his hand like a lifeline. Adrenaline and awareness rush through me all at once as we weather the turbulence. His sturdy presence keeps me steady amidst the buffeting winds and shaking cabin.

After an eternity, Avery’s voice returns, soothingly announcing the worst is over. My heartbeat begins to settle and I slowly peel my fingers from Emrys', my cheeks warming. His eyes crinkle knowingly, a glimpse of the protective alpha beneath his gruff exterior.

Okay, so maybe I do read too many romance novels. Protective alpha, really?

Clearing my throat, I smooth my clothes and avoid his gaze, needing space to regain equilibrium, when I notice Wilder studying me curiously from across the aisle, an indecipherable look in his bright blue eyes. I raise a questioning eyebrow at him and his trademark grin returns as he drawls, "Quite a grip you've got there, darlin'. Remind me to stay on your good side."

I roll my eyes dramatically to hide my flustered reaction. "Who says you're not already on my bad side, cowboy?" The teasing words slip out before I can overthink them.

His smile widens, incandescently bright like sunlight after the storm as he lets out a low whistle. “If you’re trying to scare me away, darlin’, that’s not the way to do it. I like a challenge, especially a feisty, beautiful one.” His wink sends my stomach into little flutters.

Get it together!

Rattled, I decide a trip to the bathroom to freshen up is in order. After passing through the large, luxurious bedroom, I enter the ridiculously opulent bathroom that really doesn’t belong on a plane. Gripping the counter, I take a deep breath and stare at my reflection. What am I doing? I came on this trip to support my sister, not start some deranged love...square? Triangle? Trapezoid? Ugh. I’m so off kilter, I don't even know what shape this is.

I splash cold water on my face and give myself a little pep talk. I've got this. So there are three disarmingly charming men glued to my side for the foreseeable future. It's fine. I'm a grown ass adult. I'm in control here.

Except, I'm clearly not. I'm out of my depth in uncharted waters. And I'm not sure if I'm terrified or exhilarated. Maybe both.

When I get back to my seat, Mom and Annabelle are both gone. I glance around, noting them having a drink at the bar, which leaves me alone with the three admittedly intriguing tagalongs. A charged silence fills the air around us as I retake my seat, gripping my book in my hands like my life depends on it.

“So…Kat.” Wilder says my name with a Cheshire Cat grin overtaking his face and my heart forgets to beat for a second. That can’t be good.

“Wilder.” I feign an unaffected air as I lean back in my seat, but I feel the weight of Emrys and Wyatt’s gazes as they also focus their attention on me. It’s making me twitchy. I’m not a twitchy person.

“I’m curious, really. Why go through the trouble of hiring a boyfriend for all this?” He spins a finger in the air lazily, as if reminding me of the situation. I don’t need reminding.

Sensing my reluctance to respond, Wyatt interjects with a smooth lilting tone, "You don’t have to answer that. You’re not required to give any reason behind your decision to hire our company. Nor are you under any obligations to spend time or speak to us outside of the events you’ve described on the intake form.”

My eyes bug out as I watch him professionally recite this as if he’s read a great deal into it. He reminds me of the lawyer that I keep on retainer for my company. Except, you know…so much hotter. I shoot him a grateful smile, even as Wilder scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Now I’m rolling my eyes.

"No shortage of real options for you, I'd wager," Wilder drawls with a grin, his electric blue eyes bright with interest as he pushes the subject. The man needs a lesson in boundaries for sure.

Somehow, though, I can’t find it in me to mind.

I shake my head ruefully, mumbling under my breath in a way that’s impossible for them to hear. "Not options that meet my standards."

I tap my french manicured fingers on the armrest before opening my mouth, intending to spout a line about being too busy for dating, or whatever other bullshit I can think up, but I pause. What’s the point in lying? They are under a strict NDA and they technically work for me. There’s really no one else safer to divulge all my darkest secrets to. Right?

"I guess...I'm a bit of a romantic. My expectations are unrealistic. So hiring someone seemed easier than disappointing my family with another failed relationship." I shrug my shoulders as if I don’t give a shit, but there’s a pang of sadness behind my ribcage that reminds me I’m still a softy beneath my overconfident, ice queen exterior.

"A romantic?" Wilder looks intrigued by the notion. His eyes flick to the book still sitting forgotten on my lap and I quickly try to hide the cover. No need to let him know exactly what kind of expectations I have.

Malice by Coralee June is not for the faint of heart.

Emrys grunts and I slide my book into the large purse at my feet before eyeing Wilder once more. “Nothing wrong with knowing your worth and holding out for something real.” I shoot him a glare in challenge and he cocks a single brow that has a tumble of fuzzy fuckers flipping around in my stomach.

I blush. Blush!

“Never settle. Any man would be fortunate to earn your affection.” Wyatt’s simple statement warms me more than flowery flattery could.

“How could you possibly know that? You guys don’t know anything about me.” I narrow my eyes as they all seem to subconsciously shift in their seats. “You don’t know anything about me, right?”

Wilder simply slumps in his seat and starts snoring, pretending to be asleep on the spot. What the hell? A snort escapes me as I struggle not to laugh and reinforce his bad behavior.

Emrys simply looks away from me, ignoring me completely.

It’s Wyatt who meets my gaze head on, though a small tick in his jaw gives away his discomfort. “It’s our job to find out everything we can about who our employer is ahead of time. The form you filled out is thorough, yes, but not quite as well as it should be. At least, not enough to be a convincing boyfriend.” He adjusts his tie as my stomach bottoms out.

That means…

They’ve seen all the tabloids. They’ve read all the rumors. They know exactly what kind of wicked witch I’m portrayed as in the media.

Fucking great.

Wyatt’s eyes narrow as his gaze flicks over my face before understanding seems to settle on his features. “No, Kat. I’m not stupid enough to believe every piece of gossip we come across. I’m far more thorough than that.”

“So…” I don’t know why, but I trust what he’s saying. He seems far too refined, upfront, and honest to fall for something like The Dish–a trashy gossip column site that has its own magazine that focuses on dishing on the lives of the rich and successful.

“It’s quite easy to see the person you are beneath all the layers of idle gossip and rumors that surround you.” He steeples his hands as he peers at me beneath his dark lashes. “For example, one article that tried to say you were sleeping with the owner of a smaller vets office. They even had a photo of him gazing lovingly down at you while you were on your knees in front of him.”

I groan, remembering that stupid piece. It came out only like two months ago.

“But after a brief search looking into the office, it was easy to find photos from another direction that showed you holding a lion cub who had an injured paw while you were on your knees. The man wasn’t even looking at you, he was looking at the cub while you showed him what was wrong with it.”

The tension that had coiled around me like a snake ready to strike slowly starts to unwind as Wyatt's words sink in. He doesn't think I'm an evil, man-eating succubus like the tabloids proclaim. I mean, he doesn't actually know me well enough to say for certain I'm not, but still. It's a start.

"Well, I suppose we'll all just have to get to know the real Kathryn then," Wilder drawls with a flirty wink and I narrow my gaze at him, considering he’s so suddenly awake now.

Before I can respond, Avery's announcement cuts through the charged moment. "Sharpes, we are beginning our descent into Cancun. The local time is two in the afternoon and the weather is a sunny eighty-two degrees. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

As the pilot announces our impending descent, my mother and Annabelle return to their seats.

"Your father and Ethan already texted that they’re waiting for us at the resort," my mother titters anxiously as the plane hits a small patch of turbulence. "Wasn't that just so sweet of them to go early and handle all the final details?"

As the plane angles into its descent, her shrill voice somehow rises further in pitch. "Oh, Dad will be so delighted to finally meet your men!" She clasps her hands together, smiling brightly at all three men surrounding me.

I freeze in place, grimacing as I realize that I will indeed have to introduce my boyfriends–plural–to Dad. Which was not at all on my mind when I so boldly decided to announce that tidbit to my mother. I enjoy pushing my mother’s buttons. I did not, however, anticipate doing anything to make my dad uncomfortable.

Shit.

Touchdown is silky smooth, the plane gliding to a halt on the runway, giving me only a slight bit of anxiety until we’ve fully come to a stop. The second we do, Wilder is on his feet, offering me his hand to help me stand.

"Allow me, darlin'," he says with an exaggerated bow. I have to bite my cheek to keep from grinning at his antics.

As we disembark, the sticky tropical air envelops me, saturated with the scent of sea salt and exotic flowers. I slide my sunglasses down just as Wyatt appears at my side, his steel eyes piercing me behind his shades.

"Shall we?" He gestures towards one of the gleaming black SUVs waiting nearby, his palm hovering temptingly at the small of my back. Before I can lean into it, Emrys muscles his way between us, his massive body radiating heat. Wyatt's jaw clenches almost imperceptibly.

"I've got her, mate," Emrys rumbles, his voice dripping with implication. Wrapping a possessive arm around me, he guides me toward the car. I catch a glimpse of Wyatt and Wilder exchanging loaded looks behind his back.

The testosterone wafting around me is palpable as we get in the SUV. I end up sandwiched between Emrys and Wilder, hyper aware of their hard muscles and woodsy scents.

As we cruise along the coastline, azure waves crashing against sugar sand beaches, I feel the weight of three intense stares. It's like I’m caught at the center of a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any second. I have a feeling things are about to get wild.

My pulse thrums. Let the games begin.

* * *

The gleaming facade of the Oceanfront Oasis Resort comes into view as our rental SUV pulls up, the driver instantly jumping out to open the trunk and grab our bags. A valet opens our door with a polished “Welcome Ms. Sharpe”, even as he is instantly brushed aside by Emrys, who turns and offers his hand to me. I take it as I step out onto the circular driveway, but then quickly drop it as soon as I’ve found my footing.

My other two Book-A-Boyfriend companions emerge from the SUV behind me, drawing curious glances from onlookers. Completely unfazed, Wilder greets them all with a charming grin. Their eyes then find me moments before my sister appears, looping her arm through Wilder’s and Wyatt’s as she leads them inside, chattering enthusiastically. Emrys stays resolutely by my side, his imposing presence both thrilling and unnerving.

At the front desk, the attendant easily locates my reservation after I give her my name, and she smiles respectfully at me. “You’re all set, Ms. Sharpe. Our second premier honeymoon suite in the east side building has been prepared just for you.”

Annabelle elbows my side with a grin and a waggle of her eyebrows as I turn to move away from the front desk. “Well, at least you aren’t sharing the same building as me and Ethan. Your sensible ears will be spared.”

“Gross, Demon-Doll.” I make fake gagging sounds as she giggles. She really doesn’t need to remind me of how loud she is with her fiance. I have PTSD from the last time I stayed at her house.

I vaguely tune in to the conversation behind me, which is getting mildly frantic. The attendant’s fingers are flying across her keyboard, her brow furrowing. “I sincerely apologize, but I’m unable to find reservations under any of your names.” Her voice lilts with rising panic.

“The company must have gotten the location wrong when making reservations,” Wyatt interjects politely, “Perhaps there are other vacancies we could inquire about instead?”

But as the attendant anxiously searches, her face falls further. “I’m so sorry, but it appears we are entirely booked. With the wedding guests, there are simply no other rooms.”

Just as I’m contemplating the nightmare of telling my mother about this–who will view this as a personal slight against her guests, since she planned this entire thing–her commanding voice rings out. “There you all are! We’ve been waiting.” I wince as she appears, dramatically kissing both my cheeks.

“Now, what’s all this fuss about no rooms?” My mother asks. Not waiting for a reply, she pats my cheek fondly. “Well it’s no matter. You three gentlemen can simply share Kathryn’s suite.”

“What?!” I choke out, shock robbing me of any eloquence. I gape at my mother, this outrageous solution short-circuiting my brain. I feel the weight of multiple stares at my back as the men all focus on us, making me both twitchy and way too overheated.

Oblivious to my horror, she smiles indulgently. “It’s a penthouse, plenty spacious for you all. And it has a divine open-air Jacuzzi! You’ll love it.”

Turning to the men, she says brightly, “I’m sure since you’re dating and all, you won’t mind keeping her company in the suite.” Her tone brokers no argument, even as her gaze flicks to me with a rare glint of approval shining in her eyes. I can’t be the one to ruin that. Dammit.

A tense beat passes where I pray one of them will object, but then Wilder laughs–the sound shooting straight to my gut and I turn to look as he says, “Anything for our future mother-in-law!” Wyatt and Emrys both reluctantly nod, clearly just as thrown as me, but unwilling to cross my mother. Not that I truly blame them for that.

She’s a terrifying woman.

With the matter decided, a bellhop escorts our rather large group to the penthouse as my mother and Annabelle regale the men with some of the activities that we will be taking part in throughout the week. Shocked into a stupor, I follow them into the elevator and just silently stand in the eye of the storm. Yet, despite being surrounded by the chaos and awkward tension, I have no problem noting every twitch of movement from the guys, every deep chuckle or word that leaves their mouths, and every second of their weighted gazes as they flick over to me.

When the elevator finally stops at the top floor, the door slides open, and the opulent suite that comes into view stuns me even further into silence. I’m not a stranger to some of the finer things in life, being as successful as I am, but I’ve also never really bothered to go anywhere outside of my work and my home.

My mother claps excitedly. “See! It’s perfect. Plenty of room.”

I step out of the elevator into an expansive open-concept living space with floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding glass doors providing breathtaking panoramic views of the azure ocean and sugar-sand beach. The furnishings are sleek yet comfortable, with plush white couches and chairs surrounding a massive flat-screen TV mounted above an electric fireplace. To the right is a top-of-the-line gourmet kitchen and dining area that could easily cater a celebrity chef event.

Awed by the amenities, I wander outside, the doors sliding open with ease, and letting in a gentle breeze of salty warm air. There’s a private heated infinity pool with in-water lounge chairs, that continues to the edge overlooking the sandy beaches below. The large patio area is surrounded by swaying palm trees in large, beautiful, in-ground planters that provide shade on the lounge chairs and tables tactfully placed around the pool. A few steps away is a sunken hot tub built to provide stunning panoramic views while you soak.

I run my hands over the smooth marble of the wet bar, fully stocked with top-shelf liquors and wines that I will probably be indulging in as soon as I can. In the living area, another set of double doors leads to an impressive walk-in closet filled with empty hangers, plush robes and slippers. No luxury or indulgence has been overlooked in this lavish penthouse paradise.

Wandering back inside, I move through the set of large double doors opposite the kitchen side of the suite. The opulent master suite features a luxurious king-sized bed with the softest linens I’ve ever felt. Off of it is a spa-like bathroom with a glass-enclosed rainfall shower, jetted tub, and separate vanities. There’s even another walk-in closet with plenty of spare towels, robes, and toiletries.

I return to the bedroom, staring down at the bed, when a sudden voice has me jumping out of my skin. "Well, would you look at that," Wilder drawls, the amusement clear in his voice. "Seems they only gave us one bed."

I whirl around to face him and the others as the guys and Annabelle join me in the room, dread sinking my stomach lower than my pedicured toes. I open my mouth, then promptly close it. Annabelle barely contains her giggling fit as she waggles her brows at me. Oh, she's enjoying this way too much. I shoot her my best glare.

Before anyone can say anything else, my mother's voice rings out. "Well, we'll let you all get settled." She appears suddenly, clutching Annabelle's arm to steer her rapidly from the suite. "Oh! And don’t forget about the welcome dinner tonight. Outdoor dining area number three."

And then it's just us.

Me and the three Book-A-Boyfriend hotties.

Staring at the lone California king bed.

Chapter 8

Well, butter my backside and call me a biscuit. This honeymoon suite situation just keeps getting better and better.

When I signed up to play pretend boyfriend for some rich city gal, I expected fancy resorts and frou-frou drinks with the little umbrellas as I suffer on the arm of some hoity-toity, stick-in-the-mud. But, finding myself intrigued by a feisty little filly like Kathryn Sharpe? Now that’s a rodeo I didn’t see coming.

After her mama and sis speed from the room, Kat eyes the three of us like we’re a pack of wild coyotes. “Well, I suppose you boys should draw straws for the couch,” she says crisply, her cute little nose all scrunched up.

“Nonsense!” I crow, plopping myself on the cloud-like bed. “What’s a sleepover without a good old-fashioned cuddle puddle?”

The other two gents bristle as I make myself comfortable, kicking off my shoes. That uptight Wyatt looks fit to swallow his tongue while our wild-eyed friend, Emrys, just stares unflinchingly at Kat. But it’s Kat’s reaction I’m watching closest.

Her jaw drops so hard I reckon I can hear the thunk from here. Those captivating turquoise eyes of hers widening into the perfect picture of outrage.

“Absolutely not!” She sputters, neck flushing in that pretty way she does whenever I rile her up.

“Why not, baby? You scared?” I waggle my eyebrows her way, delighting in the way it makes her eye twitch. She’s just too easy to wind up.

Wyatt steps forward, ever the diplomat. “Kat gets the bed. The rest of us will take turns on the couch,” he suggests reasonably. More like orders.

But I don’t do reasonable and I’ve never been great at following orders.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I ask with an exaggerated stretch. “May as well make the most of this lucky break and have ourselves a slumber party. Ain’t that right, Emrys?”

Emrys just grunts, clearly more man of action than of conversation.

“You—” Wyatt begins, puffing up, reminding me of one of those banty roosters trying to protect their hens. But just then, Kat’s phone lights up with another text. She checks it and sighs heavily, her lips pursing into a pretty little moue of resignation that does funny things to my insides.

“I’ve got to get ready for dinner.” She arches one flawless brow at us. “Do try to behave yourselves in front of my family tonight.”

Her stern tone sends a bolt of heat straight through me that no proper gentleman should acknowledge. But luckily for her, I ain't no gentleman.

I shoot her a wink. "No promises there, darlin'."

She turns on her heel and practically runs away, leaving me and the other two men awkwardly lounging together in a room. I surreptitiously take them in from the corner of my eye as I maintain my relaxed, gives-no-shits attitude.

The silence that settles around us is thick as molasses as Kat makes her escape to the en-suite bathroom. The sound of running water soon follows, letting us know she’s getting ready for this shindig of a welcome dinner.

I’m not too concerned about it. I can charm the bark off a tree if need be, and Kat’s folks seem amiable enough. Her dad though, based on Kat’s reaction earlier, might take a bit more finesse. Good thing my mama raised me to be a man that you want to take home to meet the parents.

Wyatt stands abruptly, clearing his throat as he neatly folds and stows his discarded suit jacket. “If you…gentlemen will excuse me, I believe I’ll take a look around the resort before dinner.”

Emrys grunts again but makes no move to follow as Wyatt lets himself out. Interesting that he doesn’t consider us gentlemen at all. I reckon I should be offended, but fact is, he’s got the right of it. Still, I bristle a bit at the dismissal.

“Just you and me now, compadre,” I drawl to Emrys, testing the waters. Strong silent type he may be, but a man’s boundaries can tell you a lot about him. “Cozy.”

Emrys just looks at me, unimpressed, then he heads for the door without a word. Guess that tells me all I need to know.

With the room to myself, I get a little more dressed up than I currently am. A button up and slacks should do. Then I’m merely standing about twiddling my thumbs like an imbecile. The shower is still running, and boredom is quickly setting in, making me twitchy. Glancing around and seeing no witnesses, I take the chance to snoop around a bit. Never know what secrets I might uncover about the enigmatic Kat. I find her luggage piled neatly near the front door and can’t resist taking a peek. Unzipping one of the cases slowly, being careful not to make too much noise, my eyes widen at the sight of satiny and lacey unmentionables folded pristinely inside.

Well, well, well. Someone has a naughty side after all. I pick up a particularly racy red number, picturing her curves in it, when suddenly a throat clears behind me.

I whirl, shoving my hands behind my back, to find Kat standing there, fresh from the shower with her curves just barely covered by a plush towel.

“See something you like, Cowboy?” She asks, arching a brow.

I grin, caught red handed but unwilling to show it. “Just getting acquainted with the place, darlin’.”

Her pretty eyes narrow, arms crossing over her chest. “I’d say keep your paws off what doesn’t belong to you, but seeing as you’re a hired prop, nothing here does belong to you.”

Ouch. She’s a spitfire when riled. But her claws just make her that much more appealing.

I drop the pile of lace in my hands and saunter closer, enjoying the way her breath hitches as I do. “No need to get your spurs in a tangle, doll. I promise to be on my best behavior from here on out.” I reach out and brush a stray tendril of hair behind her ear before I can think better of it.

Kat sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t pull away, her eyes dilating. Oh yeah, she feels this spark between us too. No denying it. I lean in just a fraction more, drawn like a moth to her flame.

Before I can push her even further, the sound of the door opening has her springing away from me like she’s got ants down her pants. Saved by the bell or cockblocked by Wyatt? I shoot him an irritated look as he raises one brow in silent admonishment.

Clearing her throat, Kat grabs something from one of her bags and retreats towards the room again. “Time to get this circus sideshow over with,” she mutters before shutting the door.

I resist the urge to scowl at Wyatt as Kat disappears into the bathroom. No doubt he thinks he's being chivalrous, but all he's done is ruin a prime moment.

Still, I ain't one to back down. I straighten my shirt collar and flash him a megawatt grin. "Hope you had a nice stroll, compadre. Pretty swanky digs."

Wyatt's expression remains impassive. "Indeed."

I wait for him to say more, but he stays stubbornly silent. Tough nut to crack, this one. The silence stretches on until, finally, the bathroom door opens and Kat emerges in an emerald green sundress that makes her eyes sparkle. The thin straps and flowy skirt tease more than they cover, and I swallow hard.

I tamp down my irritation as Wyatt offers his arm to escort Kat out of the suite first. Asshole. Thankfully, the elevator ride is quick, and unbearably silent. As we exit, Emrys falls in step beside me, behind Wyatt and Kat.

I can't take my eyes off the bewitching sway of Kat's hips as I walk directly behind her. That sundress hugs every curve to perfection, the skirt swishing flirtatiously with each step. With her long hair swept atop her head, her elegant neck is on full display. Makes a man want to trail kisses along that silky skin.

By the time we step out into the balmy, salt-kissed air, I've imagined a dozen different ways to get her alone tonight.

The sun's hanging low, casting a golden glow as we approach the outdoor dining terrace. Strung lights criss-cross overhead as Kat’s massive family laughs around linen-draped tables. A live band plays animatedly near the dancefloor.

She glides ahead of us, successful, fiery, and unafraid to speak her mind. It’s got me all sorts of intrigued and wanting to push every boundary she has.

Thank God that Book-A-Boyfriend doesn’t have any rules about fraternization with a client. I’ve never had the urge before now, but…

Kat glances back at me and I grin, shooting her a wink that has her blushing and turning away quickly.

Oh yeah…she wants me.

I rush to take the seat next to her, earning a glare from the stuffy old man as I cut him off. He’s forced to sit next to me because Emrys has already taken the seat on Kat’s other side. Hiding my smile, I rest my arm over the back of Kat’s chair, leaning closer to her. The vanilla, sugary scent that swirls from her sun-kissed skin makes me dizzy.

One thing's for certain–Kat has no idea what she’s gotten herself into with me.

Chapter 9

The balmy tropical air does nothing to abate the rising heat creeping up my neck as I sit with Emrys and Wilder's thighs pressed against mine, their competing scents invading my senses. I sneak a glance at Wilder, but quickly divert my gaze to the tablecloth when I catch him looking at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Luckily, Annabelle joins us at the table and immediately introduces Ethan to the guys. The expression that crosses her face as she gazes up at her fiance is glowing and lovesick in a way that makes my insides twinge with envy that I immediately try to bury. As much as seeing her happy brings me joy, it also reminds me of everything I feel like I’m missing out on, and it cuts me deeper every time it happens.

But I'm damn good at playing pretend.

My lips curve into a genuine smile for the first time tonight as Dad's sturdy frame comes into view. The lines etched into his tanned skin from a lifetime of laughter make his dark eyes crinkle at the corners as he helps mom into her seat before he looks around and spots me.

To the rest of the world, he's simply Roger Sharpe, founder of a majorly successful tech empire. But to me, he's always been my hero–a listener who offered advice between fishing trips and a comforting shoulder during every heartbreak. There isn't a single major moment of my life he hasn’t been there for.

"Kitty-Kat!" His deep voice booms as he circles the table to wrap me up in his strong arms. I cling to him shamelessly, breathing in the familiar scents of pipe tobacco and mint that always surrounds him. Hearing that beloved childhood nickname in his gravelly tone instantly soothes my soul in a way little else can.

We separate just enough for his wise eyes to scan my face. "It's been too long, baby girl."

My throat clenches and I nod rapidly to try and keep tears at bay. I’m a total softy when it comes to Dad.

"That was adorable." Wilder's smooth southern drawl cuts through the moment, reminding me of the ridiculous situation I've gotten myself into, and I flush when I realize they all witnessed a vulnerable moment for me.

To my surprise, Dad just laughs heartily, a deep earthy sound. "My Kathryn is always adorable, son. So who wants to tell me all about the men stealing my girl’s heart?"

His crinkled eyes are kind and curious rather than judgmental as he settles into his seat. His calm, open nature is a balm to every part of my being that feels cracked and bruised by life's callous hands.

If only men like Dad were easy to find in the world so often filled with those like Baby-Face and his ilk. My romance books aren’t the only reason why my standards became so high. I knew a man's man for a father and nothing else has felt even close to measuring up.

My gut churns with guilt as the table goes silent and I fidget in my seat as Dad regards us, hyper aware of Emrys and Wilder's thighs once more pressing in on either side of mine.

"Well don't leave me hanging!" Dad proclaims jovially. "Introduce me to these dashing fellas who've stolen my Kitty Kat's heart."

This time I cringe at the childhood nickname as Wyatt's lips quirk subtly and Wilder grins widely. "Dad, this is Wilder, Wyatt, and Emrys," I mumble, avoiding eye contact.

"Pleasure to meet you sir," Wyatt says, reaching across to politely shake Dad's hand. "You have a remarkable daughter." I feel my cheeks heat at the compliment as Dad smiles approvingly at Wyatt.

"That she is. But she’s also as stubborn as a bull and as fierce as a tiger. Are you up for that?"

Tiger? I resist the urge to kick Dad under the table for his crazy analogies. He started giving comparisons to anything animal as soon as I started showing an interest in them and it’s only gotten worse over the years

Wilder drawls confidently, "Well she keeps us on our toes. But that just makes it interesting." He winks and I glare back, hoping my blush isn't visible.

Dad regards Wilder thoughtfully. "And what do you do, son?"

"I'm a surgeon, sir. Well, almost. I’m in my last year of residency. Then I’ll be full fledged."

I blink in surprise. Is that actually true or just part of his cover story? I find myself curiously wanting to know more. To my relief, Dad seems impressed.

"Noble profession. And you?" He turns to Wyatt.

"I used to be a criminal defense lawyer." Wyatt's smooth voice reveals nothing but professionalism.

“And now?” Dad’s mouth turns down. He’s never been a big fan of lawyers.

“I’m between jobs.” Wyatt’s jaw tightens imperceptibly and I focus on the movement. He’s either choosing an odd faux backstory for his character, or there’s some truth to what he’s saying. Based on the stiffness in his posture, it has to be the latter. Which only makes me curious. Apparently my dad catches on too and voices the question for me.

“Why’s that, son?” And for some reason, despite the intensity of the moment, I almost laugh because…jeez. Wyatt can’t be that much younger than my dad. Which is weird. And funny. And just a little bit hot.

“It wasn’t…fulfilling in the way I thought it would be.” His face shuts down and I can tell that he’s done speaking on the subject. Which is a shame, because I can tell there’s a lot more to the story than he’s saying. And I’m a curious person.

Dad nods, the curiosity he passed down to me swirling in his eyes too, but just like me, he can tell it would be crossing a line to ask. Instead, he looks expectantly at Emrys, who has yet to speak. I tense, realizing I know the least about this brooding wild card of the group.

After a weighty pause, Emrys rumbles, "Animals."

“Oh! Is that how you and Kat met?” Dad shoots me a wide, genuine grin and I can’t help my own smile.

“Yes.” Emrys’ reply is short, but when I glare at him, he clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I met her when she brought an injured bear cub into my clinic.” Dad’s eyes crinkle in confusion and I jump in to help cover the plot holes in the story.

“I stumbled on the bear cub on one of my hikes. I was scared he wouldn’t last long enough to get him to one of my clinics, so I took him to the closest one. Which just so happened to be his…” I trail off, waving my hand in Emyrs’ direction. Understanding settles on my father’s features and he nods.

“Did the cub make it?” I bat away the guilt at lying to my dad again, and force a smile onto my face.

“He sure did. Took him to my Sandlewood location. He fit right in with the other cubs.” Waiters begin circulating with cocktails and salads, stopping the conversation in its tracks as they take our orders.

After they leave, my father turns to Wilder and Wyatt with a genial smile. "So how did you two meet my Kitty Kat?"

Wyatt dabs his mouth politely with his napkin. "We met at a charity benefit last spring. I was quite taken with her sharp wit and passion for helping others."

"Is that so?" Dad seems impressed. He looks expectantly at Wilder.

"Oh we go way back, isn't that right darlin'?" Wilder drawls with a roguish wink in my direction.

I nearly choke on my salad at his boldness. Before I can protest, he continues smoothly. "We met when she quite literally ran into me on one of my hikes. I was just mindin’ my business, takin’ in the sights, when I was suddenly bowled over and staring at the bright blue sky above me. I found myself stuck with a thorn in my side that just never went away."

Dad chuckles good-naturedly. "That does sound like my Kat." He settles back in his seat, regarding the three men thoughtfully. "You boys seem alright. But just know, any man who gets involved with my Kitty Kat better treat her right."

His eyes flick between them, deadly serious beneath his casual tone.

"Any fool who hurts my girl, or pressures her into something she doesn't want, will answer to me."

Wyatt's spine straightens. "Of course, sir."

Wilder places his hand on mine and rubs a gentle circle on my skin. "No doubts there."

Emrys just grunts and nods, acquiescing.

Satisfied he's made his stance clear, Dad gestures to the waiter for more wine. "Good! Now who wants to hear some embarrassing stories about Kat's childhood?"

I groan loudly. It's going to be a long night.

Chapter 10

Kathryn Sharpe is not what I expected.

When I took this assignment, I pictured a spoiled socialite. Another vapid beauty looking for a showpiece on her arm. I’ve dealt with the type before.

But there’s a sharp mind and fiery spirit beneath Kathryn’s polished exterior. She holds her own against her mother’s meddling and the men vying for her attention. She’s kind and respectful to everyone she comes across, not an ounce of inflated ego to be seen.

At dinner, her father grills us all, but it doesn’t faze me. But when Wilder, of course, seizes the opportunity to spin some crazy tale about how he met Kat that has everyone laughing, I grind my teeth. Suddenly I’m not so sure about my own tale of how we met.

Emyrs gets a wounded bear cub heroic story and Wilder gets a romantic comedy level meet-cute.

And I go with a charity gala?

I bite back a groan and focus on the conversation in time to agree to never hurt Kat. Yet, what should just be a normal rehearsed line that I give all the fathers of my clients, somehow feels more as I glance once again in Kat’s direction.

What is it about her?

She’s confident, yet still insecure and modest. She’s witty and sharp, yet blushes and flushes like she’s never even been kissed. She’s closed off and guarded, yet somehow still wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s an enigma. A puzzle that I can’t quite figure out.

She’s undeniably interesting.

I’ve never felt even a sliver of attraction to a client before–as a lawyer or a hired boyfriend–yet she’s sucking me into her orbit without even trying.

I’m professional to a T, yet she has me thinking decidedly unprofessional thoughts.

As dinner progresses, I find my attention continually drifting back to her. The way her nose crinkles when she laughs. How she tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The graceful curve of her neck as she leans in to listen to her father.

I'm utterly distracted and only pulled out of my thoughts when Wilder launches into another exaggerated story that has the whole table erupting into laughter. Even Kathryn betrays a hint of a smile, though she tries to hide it.

"Oh Roger, remember the time little Kat tried to sneak that litter of kittens into the house?" Kathryn's mother trills.

Kathryn lets out a dramatic groan as her father chuckles. "That's right! Found them bundled up in her doll stroller, meowing up a storm. She was always trying to rescue some poor animal."

"Dad, no one needs to hear this," Kathryn protests, though amusement sparks in her eyes.

"Nonsense! I'm sure your young gentlemen would love to hear all about your wild adventures." Roger waves his hand dismissively.

I have to admit, I'm intrigued to learn more about what shaped the compassionate, quick-witted woman beside me. "I think your father's stories sound delightful," I offer.

Kathryn shoots me a look of mock betrayal, fighting back a smile. "Just you wait. I'll get you back for this," she whispers under her breath.

A pleasurable tingle runs through me at the promise in her words. I tamp it down quickly.

As the night wears on, Kathryn's guard lowers ever so slightly. Her smiles come easier, her eyes brighter. I find myself leaning closer, not wanting the evening to end. This assignment was meant to be simple, straightforward.

Yet, Kathryn Sharpe is anything but.

The band starts up a lively tune and couples begin drifting to the dance floor. I watch as Wilder asks Kathryn for a dance with an exaggerated bow. She looks briefly hesitant before accepting, allowing him to lead her away.

I tell myself the tightness in my chest is merely protectiveness, not envy at how freely Wilder touches her, how brightly she smiles up at him.

"They look good together," Emrys comments flatly. I wonder if imagining my fist hitting his smug face would be terribly unprofessional.

"Yes, quite," I reply tightly instead.

My eyes track Kathryn's every graceful move on the dancefloor. The sway of her hips. The elegant arch of her neck. Wilder spins her and she lets out a surprised laugh that pierces me. He pulls her close and whispers something in her ear that makes her eyes widen and cheeks flush.

Something hot and primal uncurls within me. I stand abruptly, intending to cut in, unwilling to watch a moment longer. But just then, the song changes to something slower. Wilder attempts to pull Kathryn closer but she steps back, shooting him a quelling look before drifting off the dance floor.

Interesting. Perhaps she's not as swayed by his charm as I thought. The revelation lifts my mood considerably.

Kathryn returns to the table, a becoming blush still dusting her cheeks. Seeing my opening, I stand swiftly and offer her my hand. "May I have this dance?"

Surprise and something warmer flash in her eyes as she accepts. "Sure."

As I lead her to the dance floor and take her in my arms, the vanilla scent of her hair envelops my senses.

"You look lovely this evening," I murmur, unable to resist.

A hint of pink graces her cheeks. "Thank you. You clean up nicely yourself."

"I confess, I'm curious how someone as vibrant as you ended up needing to hire escorts to family events." The bold question escapes me before I can stop it.

Kathryn arches one delicate brow. "Escorts? Is that how you view yourself?"

I clear my throat, cursing my lack of finesse. "My apologies, poor word choice."

"I suppose you could call it self-preservation." She looks off with a small shrug. "After enough disappointments, it seemed easier to avoid the risk."

My chest tightens at the vulnerability in her voice. On impulse, I pull her closer.

"Their loss then. Any man would be lucky to have you, Kathryn."

Her breath catches and she meets my gaze. "Perhaps you're right."

We stare at each other, the air suddenly charged between us. The song ends but we remain frozen in place, neither willing to break the spell first.

Finally, she steps back, eyes conflicted. "Thank you for the dance, Wyatt."

I instantly miss her warmth. "The pleasure was mine," I reply sincerely.

As we walk back to the table, her hand brushes mine and a jolt of electricity sparks between us. For some reason, I am utterly captivated by this complex, compelling woman. And I intend to unravel the mystery that is Kathryn Sharpe.

As we retake our seats, I notice Wilder watching us closely, his usual grin absent. His gaze flickers between me and Kathryn, assessing. "Have a nice dance you two?" He asks with forced lightness.

"It was lovely, thank you," Kathryn replies breezily, though her fingers brush her neck in a nervous tell. Wilder's jaw ticks, but before he can speak, her father stands and taps his glass for attention. I take the opportunity to slide my hand into Kat’s, telling myself that it’s only to maintain our cover, and for whatever reason, she doesn’t pull it away.

"If I could have everyone's focus, I'd like to say a few words." Roger beams around the table. "First, Annabelle, Ethan—congratulations to you both." The guests cheer as Roger continues. "Seems like just yesterday my little Annabelle was still chasing her sister around the house in frilly dress-up clothes. And now here she is, a beautiful, accomplished young woman about to be married."

He smiles affectionately at Annabelle. "From the moment Ethan came to pick you up for your first official date, I knew I'd never meet another boy who looked at my daughter with such genuine care and admiration."

Roger chuckles, glancing at Ethan. "Never mind that he was a gangly, wide-eyed teenager who could barely string two words together in my presence. I still had to pull him aside and give the whole speech about breaking her heart and facing my wrath."

Ethan flushes as the guests laugh.

"Poor boy was so nervous he nearly tripped over his own two feet assuring me he would sooner walk through fire than ever hurt Annabelle." Roger shakes his head with a grin. "I almost felt bad for terrorizing the lad, but it's a father's job after all."

He raises his glass towards Ethan. "But you've more than proven yourself over the years. Welcome to the family, son."

Ethan beams, his eyes shining with emotion as he embraces Roger. I feel an unexpected tightness in my chest, moved by the sincere affection between them. Kathryn's hand subconsciously tightens around mine, and I know she feels it too.

The guests cheer as he continues. "I can't begin to express how delighted I am to welcome Ethan to our family. But I'm equally happy that my Kitty-Kat has finally opened her heart again too."

Kathryn flushes crimson as all eyes turn to us. "It's not every father who gets three new possible sons all at once!" Roger exclaims jovially.

Whispers spread like wildfire throughout the crowd of people and I squeeze Kat’s hand in support as her entire body stiffens. But that's where it stops. Chuckles rise to join Roger’s and an irrational warmth spreads through me at his words.

To be considered part of this vibrant, eccentric family–even for pretend–it's more enticing than it should be.

Roger raises his glass. "To my two girls finding happiness, and to one hell of a week ahead!" Glasses clink amid laughter and cheers, while beside me, Kathryn rolls her eyes affectionately at her father's exuberance.

But she doesn't let go of my hand. And I find myself wondering why the hell that makes me feel so…warm.

Chapter 11

I awaken slowly, stretching languidly beneath the silky soft sheets. For a blissful moment, I forget where I am. But reality comes crashing back quickly at the sound of the low voices coming out of the suite's living area.

My three unwelcome roommates. Fantastic.

Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling and contemplate making a run for it. Childish, I know, but the thought of facing all three men at once makes me want to hide under the covers for the rest of the trip.

Things are getting far too complicated. The lines are starting to blur in dangerous ways. Their jobs are to be fake boyfriends. Yet, somehow, they’ve turned me into a jumbled mess of racing hearts, spinning heads, and tangled emotions in such a short time.

It’s all just pretend. I repeat the reminder to myself like a mantra. But it’s getting harder to differentiate between what’s real and what’s not.

Especially with Wyatt. The dance last night...the way he looked at me...his hand holding mine. It felt like so much more than part of an act.

But it's not only him.

Wilder's playful flirtations and heated gazes are starting to seem less fake and more genuine by the day.

And Emrys...beneath his silent brooding exterior lies an undeniable magnetism I'm finding hard to resist.

All three men in their own ways are leaving me dazzled, intrigued, and craving more. This was meant to be straightforward–a simple business transaction. But now, it’s anything but.

I just need to get through this week with my dignity intact and survive the nonstop family events surrounding my sister's dream wedding. Then I can return to my comfortably uncomplicated life, leaving this temporary insanity far behind.

A knock at the bedroom door jolts me from my thoughts.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Wilder's drawl comes through the door, far too cheerful for this early hour. I groan and drag myself from the sinfully comfy bed. Checking the time, I sigh. I need to get ready for the bridesmaid brunch soon.

Throwing on my silky robe, I steel myself and open the door. Wilder grins brightly, looking unfairly awake and handsome with his messy hair and a t-shirt that stretches appealingly across his chest.

I force myself not to linger on how good he looks first thing in the morning. "Is there coffee?" I mumble.

"Fresh pot's waiting for you. I aim to please," he says with a wink.

I shuffle past him towards the kitchen, inhaling the heavenly aroma. Wyatt and Emrys are already seated at the table looking irritatingly put together.

Wyatt's eyes light up when he sees me. "Good morning, Kathryn. I trust you slept well?"

Ignoring the flutter his gravelly morning voice incites, I go straight for the coffee. The first sip is blissful perfection. As my brain starts to function again, I remember my manners. "Thanks for the coffee. Feel free to order anything from room service to eat. On me."

“I’ve never eaten off of someone’s body before, but I’m always willin’ to try new things.” Wilder winks at me, causing a deep blush to spread like fire from my head to my toes. He chuckles at my reaction before hopping up on the counter. "So what's the game plan today?"

"I've got a bridesmaid brunch. You three can explore or whatever." I studiously avoid looking at him. "We're all meeting for a family volleyball tournament this afternoon on the beach."

"Now that sounds like my kind of party," Wilder says with a grin. "I hope you're ready to see my killer spike, darlin'."

"Yes, well, just be careful. My family can be...competitive." I roll my eyes thinking of the ridiculous Sharpe Clan Olympics we do every year.

"No need to worry about me, I know it's all for fun," Wyatt assures me.

Emrys flexes his arms wordlessly, making his point clear. Subtle as always.

I finish my coffee to hide my flustered reaction. "Right. Well, I should get ready."

Making my escape to the bedroom, I take a steadying breath. A day of family activities and watching three attractive, off-limits men in nothing but swim trunks? This day is sure to test my limits.

But it's only a game, I remind myself. I can handle a little friendly family volleyball tournament.

Hopefully.

After changing into a breezy sundress, I meet Annabelle in the lobby. She links her arm through mine as we head for the outdoor brunch area, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Soooo, how are things going with the three boyfriends?" She teases, drawing out the word boyfriends.

I roll my eyes. "You know very well they are not my actual boyfriends."

Annabelle shrugs. "Could have fooled me. You four looked pretty cozy last night."

I flush at the memory of slow dancing with Wyatt, our bodies pressed close. "It's an act. That's what they're paid for."

"Uh huh. So which one's the best kisser?"

"Annabelle!" I admonish, though I can't help wondering the same thing.

She cackles. "You should give them all a test run. For research purposes." She waggles her brows outrageously.

"You are shameless," I sigh.

"So you haven't kissed any of them since that first time?" She actually sounds surprised.

"Of course not!"

Annabelle frowns. "Emrys seemed pretty...enthusiastic when he met Mom."

I flush crimson remembering his forceful kiss. "That was just for show. It didn't mean anything."

Annabelle looks ready to continue grilling me, when Naomi's shrill voice calling our names gratefully interrupts. Saved by the belled bridesmaid. Who would have thought?

As we paste on smiles and join the other ladies, I pointedly ignore my sister's probing gaze. I need mimosas, stat. Something tells me it's going to be a long day.

Naomi envelops us in an overenthusiastic hug, her floral perfume cloying. "Eeeek, you made it! Come sit, we saved you spots!"

She guides us over to a table where two other bridesmaids, Sierra and Amy, are already sipping mimosas. I've met them briefly at other wedding events over the years. Sierra offers me a timid smile while Amy gives an exaggerated eye roll at Naomi's exuberance.

"Can you believe it's finally wedding time? I'm so nerv-cited!" Naomi titters, settling into her seat. "What do your cards say about this week, Sierra?"

Sierra flushes, tucking a lock of mousy brown hair behind her ear. She’s well aware that Naomi is only bringing them up to poke fun at her. The bitch. "Oh, um, just the usual. Love and happiness."

"I figured there would be a shift in your voodoo stuff, you know, with Kathryn's men," Naomi continues breezily. Then she gasps dramatically. "Did you really bring three boyfriends? Together?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as she stares at me eagerly.

"I mean, not that I'm judging," she rushes to add in a way that implies the opposite. "I've just never heard of anything so...alternative."

I level her with an icy look. "I don't believe my love life requires your approval, Naomi."

Amy almost chokes on her mimosa trying not to laugh while Sierra studies the tablecloth.

Naomi's eyes widen innocently. "Of course not! I just meant-"

"Let's change the subject, shall we?" I interrupt crisply. "We're here to celebrate Annabelle, after all."

Naomi presses her glossed lips together, a look of contrition on her face. But she thankfully lets it go. Under the table, Annabelle squeezes my hand supportively. The conversation moves on, but the subtle power shift doesn't go unnoticed. I may not want to flaunt my fake unconventional situation, but I refuse to be shamed for it either.

My love life may be temporarily complicated, but I know my worth. And it seems a reminder is overdue for some.

Maybe even to myself…

The brunch passes in a blur of small talk and flowing mimosas. Naomi sticks to safe topics like wedding preparations and resort amenities. Sierra shyly reveals she's excited to finally go on a date with a guy she met online, and all too soon, it's time to head back and get ready for the volleyball tournament.

I make sure to give Naomi an extra frosty goodbye, enjoying her flustered reaction. The woman needs to learn to stay in her lane. Annabelle lingers as we leave the dining area, looping her arm through mine once more. "I'm proud of you for standing up to Naomi's nosy judgment."

I wave it off. "She's harmless, just self-important. But thank you."

"I mean it though," Annabelle insists. "You've always been the type to stand up for yourself, but recently? You’ve started letting the gossip columns and public opinion steer your decisions a bit. I was starting to worry about you, but that right there just proves that my brass-pussy-having older sister is still in there. Hurrah!"

I chuckle softly before I let her words fully process and I chew at my lip thoughtfully. She's right. I'm constantly insecure that others are judging or laughing at me behind my back ever since the press started really digging into my life. But the only opinions that should matter are those I care about, like family.

Annabelle playfully bumps my hip. "Keep that attitude up when I crush you at the family volleyball tourney later."

I laugh. "Oh you mean when me and my harem crush you and Ethan? It's on."

Linking arms, we stroll out of the private dining area. For the first time in forever, I feel fully at ease in my own skin. My three boyfriends have certainly shaken things up, but maybe what I needed wasn't a pretend boyfriend, just a reminder of my own strength.

This wedding week may be full of unexpected twists yet. And I'm actually excited to embrace the adventure.

* * *

After changing into my scarlet red bikini, I toss on a pair of short black workout shorts and make my way down to the beach. The warm breeze whispers over my skin as I take in the scene before me.

Wilder stands in the center of a group of my cousins, wearing nothing but a pair of black swim trunks that cling appealingly to his sculpted, athletic physique. He's got a ball cap flipped backwards and an air of cocky confidence that I’ve quickly surmised he just always maintains. When he lifts his arms to gesture animatedly, the defined muscles in his back and shoulders flex in a way that makes my mouth run dry.

Emrys stands off to the side, his massive arms crossed over his deeply carved chest and ripped abs. Intricate tattoos ripple over the entirety of his exposed skin, emphasizing his intimidating physique. I swallow thickly as beads of sweat glisten on the sharp v-cut of muscle at his hips. He levels a brooding stare at anyone bold enough to approach him.

Meanwhile, Wyatt is methodically helping set up for the tournament, providing a soothing air of control. His tall frame is honed strength beneath smooth skin. As he reaches up to secure the volleyball net, the long, lean lines of his torso are impossible to ignore. His narrow hips and strong shoulders perfectly accentuate his masculine shape. I ache to run my hands over every hard plane and ridge of him.

Down girl, I scold myself. Ogling is unacceptable.

But still, the skittering pulse their combined presence creates is getting harder to ignore...

Taking a steadying breath, I make my way over, determined not to let them undermine my composure. I’m a Sharpe after all. Competition is in my blood. Who cares about the eye candy when I have a game to win.

Right?

I make my way over to the group, hyper aware of the three heated gazes that instantly hone in on me, or more specifically, my body.

Wilder lets out an exaggerated wolf whistle. "Well damn, darlin'. It’s a good thing you’re on my team lookin’ like that." His eyes gleam with appreciation as they blatantly admire my figure. Despite myself, heat crawls up my neck.

Emrys says nothing, but prowls closer, his burning gaze feeling like a caress on my skin. Goosebumps prickle over me, and they don’t have anything to do with the ocean breeze.

Even Wyatt seems momentarily stunned, his polite facade cracking to reveal blatant male interest. He recovers quickly, meeting my eyes with a subtle intensity that sends flutters through my core. "Kathryn is on my team," Wyatt states smoothly with a pointed look at the other two.

Wilder scoffs. "In your dreams, pretty boy. The lady wants a real winner on her side." He shoots me a grin dripping with suggestion.

Emrys moves closer to me, tattoos rippling. "She's with me. Aren't you, love?"

Damn. I almost forgot about his British accent with how little he actually talks. That combined with his possessive tone makes my knees weak, but I force myself to shrug nonchalantly. "Who said any of you get to have me?" Their eyes flash with surprise and something far more dangerous. The gauntlet has been thrown down.

Things quickly devolve into heated bickering about who I should partner with. Tension simmers as they all vie for my attention. Finally, Annabelle intervenes. "Alright, here's how we'll settle this. Rock, paper, scissors. Winner gets Kat."

I hide a smile, enjoying the battle unfolding over me. I mean, what girl doesn’t enjoy a little posturing when it’s over her?

The guys instantly begin an intense game of rock, paper, scissors, the challenge in their eyes impossible to miss. Emrys' jaw ticks as he throws down rock after rock with zero finesse. Wilder changes his choice each time, trying to outmaneuver the others. Wyatt remains coolly collected, though there’s a calculating gleam in his eyes.

After a lengthy battle, Wyatt finally emerges victorious with paper over Emrys’ rock. Wilder curses under his breath as Emrys scowls and cracks his knuckles. Wyatt turns to me, a glint of male satisfaction in his gaze. “It appears you’re with me, Kathryn.” He rests his hand on my lower back, fingers splayed possessively across my bare skin, and despite the heat, I have to suppress a shiver.

Wilder and Emrys exchange a loaded look across the makeshift court. The challenge is clear–they have no intention of giving up so easily. Good. Things were getting far too comfortable. I need the reminder that this is all a temporary arrangement, no matter how hot the sparks are flying between us.

Annabelle sidles up next to me with a knowing grin. “Tension is running high already. This’ll be fun.”

I roll my eyes at her, but have to admit she’s right. I meet Wyatt’s gaze and harden my resolve. “Let’s win this.”

The game begins and things instantly grow heated. There's aggressive spikes, trash talk, and more than a few breathless moments of tangled, sand-covered limbs. Wyatt anchors me steadily, his composure never wavering even as emotions run high around us.

When I dive for a save and come up sputtering, he's quick to lift me back to my feet, his strong hands lingering on my waist. Our eyes catch and the air crackles between us. My heart races as his palms glide over my bare skin.

Focus, Kat! This is just part of the act.

Even then though, the way his stormy eyes darken makes my pulse flutter.

Meanwhile, Wilder makes it his mission to distract and taunt me every chance he gets. "Get ready to buy me a drink later, darlin'!" He calls out with a cheeky grin after scoring.

Ugh, that arrogant flirt! I roll my eyes dramatically, but can't ignore the appealing way his muscular frame moves on the sandy court. The man is dangerously charming.

Emrys says little, but his simmering gaze follows my every move. The raw desire contained in those golden-green depths leaves me dizzy. I can practically feel the scrape of his rough stubble against my skin, the heat of his hard body pressing in.

Down girl!

As the game continues, the taunts and showboating intensify. I catch Wyatt's bicep flexing temptingly as he spikes the ball down hard. Emrys dives for a save, body sliding through the sand, and I can't tear my eyes away from the tattoos rippling over his back. Wilder winks at me after yet another score, his abs glistening with sweat, and desire curls hot and unwelcome in my belly.

I flash a coy smile to cover my unraveling composure. If they insist on toying with me, I'll give it right back. Let's see how much they can handle.

Things get increasingly heated as we rally back and forth. My competitive side relishes the battle and we're all diving recklessly, driven to claim victory. I can feel eyes burning into me from all directions as I dash around the court.

Wyatt sets the ball perfectly and I leap up, spiking it over the net with a satisfying smack. "Yes!" I shout, pumping my fist. Take that, Wilder. I catch his eye and he grins, unbothered by my competitive side.

"Lucky shot," Emrys rumbles as Wilder grabs the ball for their serve.

I toss my hair back and place my hands on my hips. "Pure talent, babe."

Emrys' eyes instantly darken at the term of endearment and his gaze trails over me slowly. A pleasant shiver runs down my spine.

Focus, Kat!

Wilder serves a blistering ace right past Wyatt. I wince as Emrys and Wilder exchange a palm-slap. "Getting tired over there, darling?" Wilder taunts me. "Maybe you should just surrender now, save yourself the humiliation."

I narrow my eyes, irritation rising.

Oh it is on now, cowboy.

Wyatt must sense my mood shift because he moves closer and I grin darkly at him. "If we don’t win, I swear to God I will make it my personal mission in life to make yours miserable." If he’s shocked by my bloodthirsty attitude during a silly volleyball match, he doesn’t show it. He simply nods and gets back into position, completely at ease.

With our heads back in the game, we battle back to tie up the game. The sun beats down and my skin is slick with sweat and sand. I feel Wilder's gaze follow a droplet down my collarbone. I slyly lean forward just slightly, pretending to wipe sand off of my leg and his eyes grow hooded.

Ha! Two can play at this game.

Wyatt sets the ball and I make eye contact with him before spiking it hard cross-court, both Wilder and Emrys do their best to dive for it, but they both come up short and end up choking on a mountain of sand as the buzzer sounds the winning point.

Cheers ring out from the crowd of my family members that have been drawn in to watch us. There might be three other matches going on at the same time, but my family is driven by competition, and we just gave them their favorite kind of show.

Shouting out the victory, I turn and leap into Wyatt’s arms gleefully and he stumbles back a step as he catches me with a low chuckle. Our eyes lock and I’m suddenly hyper aware of my body pressed against his bare chest. My smile falters as the air charges between us.

There’s a chorus of whistles and catcalls and I clear my throat and slide back down, taking a subtle step away. Wyatt's eyes remain dark, his mask of detached politeness slipping.

A slow clap draws our attention. "Well played, darlin'," Wilder drawls, lips curving into a roguish grin. It’s good-natured but his sharp eyes take in everything. Emrys crosses his arms, unimpressed.

Luckily, before anything else can be said, Dad comes bounding over with a wide grin. "Great game, Kitty-Kat!" He sweeps me up in a hug, spinning me around like when I was a little girl. I can't help but laugh.

Mom and Annabelle follow close behind, Ethan trailing after them carrying a large bag stuffed with towels and water bottles.

"Goodness, Roger, go easy on the poor girl after such an intense game," Mom chides, though there's a hint of amusement in her tone. She’s happiest when she thinks I’m actually involved with someone. Maybe being involved with three men is like triple the endorphin rush for her matchmaking self.

I wouldn’t be surprised.

Dad just winks conspiratorially as he sets me down. "Nonsense, Evelyn. Our Kathryn here is tougher than any volleyball match."

I shoot him a grateful smile. No matter what, Dad's faith in me never wavers.

"I hope you all didn't tire yourselves out too much," Annabelle says with a teasing lilt. "Tonight is the big bonfire kickoff after all."

Ethan hands out water bottles and towels, his eyes twinkling. "Wouldn't want to miss all the s'mores and scary stories."

Wilder sidles up next to me, bumping my shoulder playfully. "Well if there's food and drinks by an open fire, you know I'll be there."

His easy charm makes me smile. "It wouldn't be complete without you." The words slip out before I can overthink them, but the answering grin Wilder flashes me is worth it. I meet Annabelle's knowing gaze, the wheels clearly turning in her no-boundary-having head. Thankfully, she just smiles and loops her arm through Ethan's.

"We'll see you lovebirds down there." With a wave, they head off down the beach, playfully shoving each other.

Dad claps his hands together, back in high spirits. "Alright troops, rest up and refuel. We'll see you at dusk." He presses a swift kiss to my forehead. "I'm happy for you, Kat."

With that, he whisks Mom away, her protests fading into the distance.

I turn to Wyatt, Wilder and Emrys, catching them all watching me closely. The sun dips lower, shadows playing across their handsome faces. A new energy hums in the air between us. I know I'm balancing on the edge of a precipice.

But, shit…I'm starting to crave the fall.

Chapter 12

The sun sinks lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the white sand beach. I trail behind Kat and the others as we make our way towards the large bonfire in the distance, the flames already dancing high and hot against the darkening night.

I never thought in a million years that I would ever be in this sort of situation. I hate my job. I hate being arm candy for rich, snobby women. Some of whom can barely keep their hands to themselves, even if you make it very apparent how unwanted it really is. No means no, cunts.

Yet, of fucking course I just so happen to be assigned to someone like Kat. I have never entertained the idea of doing anything with a client through this stupid job, yet she’s intrigued me from the moment I scanned her profile.

She just had to be as devoted to animals as I am. She just had to have a heart. She just had to be so Goddamn fuckable. Hell, even her name calls to me. Kat. She has claws and cunning just like her namesake. And I desperately want her to sink them deep into me.

Even now, watching the bewitching sway of her hips as she walks ahead of me, I hunger to seize her soft curves and claim her mouth once more. Since that first electrifying kiss, I've craved her like a man possessed. She stirs something primal within me that’s untouched by any other.

As if sensing my stare, Kathryn glances back, turquoise eyes alight. "All good back there, Emrys?"

I grunt at her. Grunt. I’m not even trying to be mysterious or aloof. It’s just everytime I open my mouth to try and say something–anything–to her, my tongue turns to mush in my mouth. It’s infuriating.

I might be a mannerless mute, but working with animals for your entire life leaves you with a certain level of knowledge. Eyes are the windows to the soul. Dogs can’t speak, but if you look into their eyes, you see their emotions and love as clearly as if they could.

Humans are no different. We’ve all got a base level of animalistic instincts that rule us, that reveal us. So I use that knowledge to my benefit and try to convey with my eyes what I can’t voice. And when her gaze meets mine, her steps falter briefly and her lips part before she visibly gathers herself with a subtle shake of her head. Still, the hint of pink gracing her cheeks reveals I affect her as much as she does me.

Up ahead, the bonfire's orange glow beckons enticingly. Kat glances over her shoulder at me, eyes dancing in the firelight. Yes, this night holds promise indeed.

The hunt is on and I never lose sight of my prey.

Kat settles gracefully onto a log bench near the roaring bonfire, the flickering light playing across her lovely features. I prowl closer but come up short when the cowboy sidles up to take the spot beside her. Wilder shoots me a sly grin, seeing the irritation flash across my face at his maneuver. He leans in close to whisper something in Kat's ear and her answering laugh has me clenching my fists.

I sink down onto a nearby log bench, my jaw tight as I observe their cozy interaction. Her guard seems to lower ever so slightly around Wilder, though she still watches him with a mix of wariness and reluctant fascination.

The knowledge that she has yet to fully submit to his charms brings some comfort.

The sky darkens to ink above us as the Sharpe family laughs and chatters around the roaring fire. Flames crackle and snap, sending glowing embers rising into the night as the subtle notes of guitar music mix with the rhythmic crash of waves along the shore. It's a scene of joy and celebration.

Kat’s mom’s voice pierces through the air as she calls for Wilder to come tell some stupid story to a couple of people she’s standing with. I catch his eye as he begrudgingly stands and moves to oblige the demanding woman. His loss. I shoot him a wink before returning my attention to where it belongs.

Kat meets my stare across the divide, an intriguing mix of curiosity and uncertainty in her luminous eyes. A wolfish grin curves my lips as I casually rise and stride her way.

Let the hunt commence.

I make my way around the large bonfire, grabbing two drinks from a nearby cooler before settling on the log next to her. Extending my hand out, she accepts the canned fruity cocktail with a grin.

"Trying to get me drunk, Emrys?" She teases, taking a sip.

"Maybe I just like watching your cheeks flush pink," I rumble back, mesmerized as I watch her throat bob as she swallows.

Wait, what did I say?

My gaze snaps up to hers, and Kat narrows her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. "Is that right? Careful now,” she purrs. “Two can play at that game."

Before I can respond, she casually brushes her fingers along my forearm, igniting a trail of sparks across my skin. Our eyes lock and the heady promise in her stare makes my blood run hotter than the flames before us. The minx is testing my restraint, and delighting in it. Were we not surrounded by her loved ones, I would accept the unspoken challenge gladly.

I capture her wandering fingers in my own and bring them to my lips in a searing kiss, scraping the sensitive skin just slightly with my teeth. She sucks in a sharp breath, eyes darkening.

"Careful, love, I play to win," I warn in a low voice. Kat's lips part, a delicious mix of arousal and indignation flashing across her face. Before she can respond, Wilder returns, tossing a bag of marshmallows on my lap.

"Who wants s'mores?" He announces loudly, interrupting our heated moment. Fucking asswipe.

Laughter rises around us as ingredients get passed around the fire and, after everyone is contentedly munching on smores, Kat’s dad gleefully rises to his feet. “Alright, everyone, you know what time it is!”

Hoots and hollers follow his words and I glance around curiously. Luckily, it seems as if Wilder and Wyatt are both as confused as I am. Kat’s face spreads into a wide grin as she claps her hands. “I call first!”

Roger laughs at the same time that her sister, Annabelle groans from a few benches away from us. “You know the rules! The person with the least amount of reactions has to be punished. We take our scary stories very seriously around here. Are you ready?” Kat joins the chorus of voices screaming their agreement into the night sky. “Alright, Kitty-Kat. Get us started!”

The idle chatter around the fire begins to wane as Kathryn's family members settle in for the apparent tradition of telling spooky tales. I keep my gaze locked on Kat, noting the way the firelight plays across her delicate features. A smile tugs at her lips right before she dramatically lowers her voice and launches into a chilling story about the haunted doll with her sister’s namesake.

Annabelle groans loudly, hiding her face in her fiance’s shoulder as he chuckles.

Kat's turquoise eyes are alight with amusement, even as she plays the crowd artfully, drawing out suspenseful moments and far outperforming the movie version of the story. As her tale reaches a crescendo, a blood curdling shriek pierces the night air, causing the entire gathered crowd to jump in fright. Nervous laughter quickly follows as one of Kat's cousins takes an exaggerated bow, clearly the culprit behind the well-timed scream.

After a loud chorus of claps and cheers for Kat, the cousin who helped along Kat’s story begins her own haunting tale and I turn my attention back to Kat's animated reactions. Her unrestrained mirth captivates me and makes me want to draw out every nuance of expression.

I have no idea what’s gotten into me, but I can’t help it.

A slight shiver runs through her slender frame at a particularly vivid description. Without thinking, I shrug off my leather jacket and drape it around her bare shoulders. Kathryn stiffens in surprise, then meets my gaze, something unreadable swimming in her eyes.

"You looked cold," I offer simply.

She pulls the jacket tighter around herself and whispers a soft, "Thank you." The sight of her enveloped in my scent, wearing my mark, satisfies something primal within me. I feel Wilder's glare boring into the side of my face at the intimate gesture and have to tamp down my satisfied smirk.

“Alright, who’s next?” Roger claps his hands and stares amusedly at everyone around the fire. “I don’t know how anyone is going to follow those two…” He hooks his thumbs at Kat and her cousin and they both stand and take a couple bows to cheers and hollers before sitting back down.

“Why don’t you have one of Kat’s men do the honors? It’s initiation time, boys!” Annabelle cackles with the crowd as Kat groans beside me.

“You don’t have to!” She’s quick to assure us, but her dad quickly interjects once more.

“You know the rules, Kat. If anyone is called to face the gauntlet and they decline and choose to be a chicken shit…” He trails off with a wicked grin on his face that Kat can’t help but return.

“Daaad!” Her instincts are to protect us from whatever this is, but she’s also just as mischievous as the man she obviously got a lot of her personality from, and she’s practically vibrating with excitement.

“Thems the rules!” Annabelle shouts, throwing a marshmallow towards us that I instinctively snatch out of the air before it hits Kat. She smiles softly at me in thanks before sighing and shaking her head, her eyes flicking between the three of us before sticking to Wilder.

“Alright…Wilder! Give us your best shot!” He blanches for a moment before collecting himself and shooting her a cocky grin.

“I see how it is, darlin’.” He spreads his arms and faces the crowd–ever the showman–before launching into his tale of spirits and ghouls.

It. Is. Terrible.

He tries. Goddamn, does he try. While the man might be damn good with people, charm oozing from him with ease at all times, he is definitely not a spooky connoisseur. The crowd of Sharpes does its best to give him a shot, hiding their smiles and laughter for as long as they can, but just as Wilder reaches the apex of what should be the scariest part, he somehow manages to get his foot caught in a bag of marshmallows and he lands on his face right in the sand.

Laughter roars as he groans and slides to his back, and not even I can hold back the smile it brings to my face. Kat, ever the soft-hearted one of the group, rushes over to him, fussing over him and making sure he’s okay through bouts of giggles and sputters.

“Damnit, Wilder! I chose you because I thought you’d be the best at working a crowd!” She loses her battle with the humor of the situation and dissolves into laughter as Wilder limply stays in a pile on the sound. Everyone around us chuckles along with her.

He pokes out his bottom lip in a playful pout, “Kitty-Kat, will you kiss my owies all better?”

She slaps his outreached hands away, to my relief, and stands before dusting off her legs. “Oh shush, you drama queen.”

It takes a bit longer for everyone to calm down and return to their seats, but when they do, Roger is back on his feet and clapping his hands once more. “Alright, alright. While that was a…uh…valiant effort from Wilder, I think it’s about time for someone else to have a go. So, who’s next?”

“Wyatt!”

“Emrys!”

The chorus of voices all shout out our names at once, one half for Wyatt and the other shouting for me, and a slow grin spreads across Roger's weathered face at the prospect of more fresh meat for the initiation rite. Wyatt straightens in his seat, spine stiffening, before smoothing his expression into cool detachment.

“I’m afraid I don’t actually know any scary stories.” A couple of boos sound out from the crowd and Kat shoots a glare at no one in particular. I do my best to hide my amusement, holding it back like I’m trying to break a wild stallion.

“Give them the bitch face all you want, Kat! We all know what happens to the chicken shits!” Annabelle cackles as Kat focuses her glare at her.

“Your sense of loyalty is admirable, Demon-Doll,” she retorts sarcastically, but Annabelle just grins.

“I very clearly recall Ethan’s first scary story initiation, Kitty. Revenge is a chicken dish best served cold. I hope you’re hungry!” Kat merely sticks her tongue out at her sister before turning to her dad.

“Did you really bring it here?” He nods enthusiastically and she sighs before facing Wyatt. “Are you sure you want to decline? Are you a chicken shit?”

“Don’t answer that-” Ethan tries to shout, but Annabelle slaps her hand over his mouth and pushes him from the bench and straight into the sand.

Kat stares expectantly at Wyatt, who looks completely unsure now, but I can see the trapped animal inside of him. He really doesn’t know any scary stories. How does someone go their whole life without learning at least one?

Shit. Even I’m starting to feel just a pang of sympathy for the man. Whatever this punishment is for the chicken shits, if it’s coming from the Sharpes, it can’t be good. This family is fucking crazy.

Wyatt clears his throat once before straightening his spine, resignation washing over his features. “I’m sorry, Kat. I don’t know any scary stories.”

She nods once, “Are you a chicken shit?”

“I am.”

She sighs loudly before turning to face the rest of her family. “You all witnessed it. We’ve got a chicken shit!” The crowd of Sharpes roars and shouts, stomping their feet in the sand like they’re about to witness a fight in a gladiator pit. A chant begins to wave through the voices until everyone–including Kat and her dad–have joined in.

“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!” It goes on as they all stand and separate as one of the younger male cousins takes off down the beach like his ass is on fire.

I stand up, backing away slowly, sort of feeling like I’ve been plucked from reality and dropped into the middle of some absurd spoof film about a failing cult or something. Kat turns and sees me backing away, a wicked grin lighting up her features as she shakes her head at me.

I stop in place.

Why do I stop?

This is more terrifying than any of the scary stories I’ve ever heard.

Movement draws my attention and I catch sight of the cousin who ran away returning in the distance with something large bundled on his back. The chanting picks up in volume and chaotic energy until the entire crowd seems to be screaming the word chicken.

Wyatt hasn’t moved from his seat on his bench, but his eyes have grown wide, and his throat is working overtime as he tries to swallow his nerves. Wilder seems to be having the time of his life as he blindly joins in on the fun of cult chanting and stomping. He’s out of the danger zone and is clearly enjoying the hell out of scaring Wyatt.

The cousin with the bundle in his hands makes it back to the group, but the way the shadows are playing from the fire, I still can’t quite see what he’s brought back with him. Though I can tell it’s very large and very…yellow.

Roger raises one hand in the air and all the chanting and stomping immediately stops, with only a slightly delayed Wilder catching on to the switch in direction. “We’ve got a chicken shit, Sharpes!” There’s a few more shouts of excitement as he smiles devilishly down at Wyatt. “What is it we do with chicken shits?!”

“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!”

“You heard them, son! Time to suit up!” The cousin who played courier brandishes the bundle out into the center of the crowd at the wave of Roger and shouts follow the big reveal of a…

A chicken costume.

What the fuck?

I glance around, finding Kat’s amused, sparkling gaze across from me, and she hides her face behind her hands.

Chapter 13

The chanting and stomping reaches a fever pitch as my cousin emerges from the shadows with the bright yellow bundle held high. Even knowing what's coming, I have to bite my lip to contain my excitement.

Wyatt's eyes are practically bulging out of his head in fear, though he remains stoically seated. Oh, this is too good. I let out a dramatic sigh and lock eyes with him, allowing my sympathy to show.

"I tried to warn you," I say with an exaggerated shrug. Wyatt swallows hard as the massive, plush suit gets tossed at his feet. He eyes it like it's a venomous snake poised to strike. I almost feel bad for him, but tradition is tradition. Plus, his dignified ass in that ridiculous costume is too hilarious an opportunity to pass up.

Emrys sidles closer to me, his hulking warmth strangely comforting amidst the chaos. He watches the spectacle unfold with guarded amusement flickering in those intense golden-green eyes. Meanwhile, Wilder whoops and hollers louder than anyone, clearly delighted he's not the one facing punishment. He catches my eye and winks conspiratorially. I have to fight back a grin. I hate to admit it, but his playful spirit is contagious.

Dad gestures for Wyatt to put the suit on as the chanting reaches thunderous levels once more. This is a Sharpe Clan classic. I lean towards Emrys, my lips nearly brushing his ear.

"Just wait until you see this," I murmur with unconcealed glee. His eyes instantly darken, but whether it's from my proximity or anticipation, I can't be sure.

Wyatt stands reluctantly, spine rigid, and begins to step into the puffy yellow suit as the bonfire rages on. His jaw is clenched so tightly I worry he may crack a tooth as he finishes zipping up the yellow monstrosity. Only his stern face peeks out from the fluffy fabric, the beak hanging limply under his chin. He looks like an ostrich with constipation.

I can't restrain my laughter any longer and double over, the uncontrollable giggles spilling from me. Even Emrys lets out an amused huff, his eyes creasing at the corners when I meet his gaze.

Meanwhile, Wilder is nearly rolling on the ground, slapping his knee as he guffaws loudly. "Well don't you look as snazzy as a June bug in a jug!" He crows, eliciting another round of raucous laughter from the crowd.

Wyatt's eye twitches but he remains stoically silent, refusing to acknowledge the humiliation. Gotta admit, the man has dignity in spades.

"Alright folks, you know the next part!" Dad reminds everyone gleefully. My cheeks are starting to ache from smiling so wide. This never gets old.

Right on cue, my family breaks into song, belting out a rousing rendition of The Chicken Dance song as Wyatt stands there awkwardly in full feathered glory. I grab Emrys' hand without thinking and make him join me in flapping our arms and shimmying along, a nostalgic warmth spreading through me.

Despite the chaos, Emrys' touch grounds me, his calloused palm pressed against mine. He eyes me with unrestrained fascination as I lead him along enthusiastically. By the end, I'm breathless from exertion and laughter.

Wyatt finally pushes back the chicken head, face flushed crimson beneath the stoic mask. Even he can't be completely immune to this level of gleeful absurdity. “Is it over? Please tell me it’s over!”

“Sorry, man. It’s only just begun!” Ethan yells as everyone else practically screams “Dun. Dun. Duuuuuuun!”

Horrified, Wyatt practically begs me with his eyes to put him out of his misery, but I simply shrug at him. A dark glint flashes in his steely, sharp gray eyes and my own widen in response. Swallowing thickly, I do the only thing I can do and duck behind Emrys’ massive frame to avoid the heated promise in his gaze.

Apparently Wyatt isn’t the only chicken shit in attendance. Shh, don’t tell my dad.

“Rule one of being a chicken shit,” Dad’s joyful voice booms out once more as he holds up one finger. “You must don the suit! Rule number two,” another finger springs up as he continues to speak. “You are forced to endure the chicken dance. Rule number three…”

He pauses dramatically at this part, sharing a grin with me before I peek around Emrys to watch how Wyatt is going to react.

“Rule number three is that you have to wear the chicken suit for the next twenty-four hours no matter what happens during that time.”

Wyatt’s composure is zapped from his frame as his chicken-suited self slumps to the bench with a loud groan. The best part? He has no idea what sort of torture the Sharpes inflict on the wearer of the suit during those agonizingly long hours.

We’ve had to replace the suit at least a dozen times in the past four years.

Another symphony of cheers and playful taunting fills the air around us, and even though I wholly sympathize with Wyatt’s predicament–I’ve been a chicken shit myself–warmth is bubbling in my stomach like a witch’s cauldron on Halloween.

This is the most fun I’ve had in…well, years.

“Alright, Sharpes! A storm is coming in.” A distant crack of thunder emphasizes his point right on cue. “Let’s call it for the night. We’ve found a victim and we all need to rest up for tomorrow’s events. Wouldn’t want to inflict torture without any sleep!” At his order, a chorus of groans rises, but everyone listens and begins to slowly filter away from the bonfire.

Wyatt pays them no mind, instead whirling towards me with terror pasted on his defined, chiseled features while I’m still peeking at him from behind Emrys. “Torture?! What torture, Kathryn? What else could they possibly do to me?” His voice rises in pitch until he’s almost squeaking. Laughter builds in my chest at the thought–and the sheer irony–of the Sharpe family bringing a refined gentleman like Wyatt practically to his knees in just one night.

“I have no idea what you mean!” I lay on the faux innocence in my voice as thick as I can as I press my hand to my chest. The last of my family finally disappears from the beach and he stands, that dark promise returning to his eyes in a flash.

“Kathryn Sharpe!” He bites out and I squeak, ducking completely behind Emrys once more.

“Hide me, giant. The chicken is angry!” Emrys’ large frame shakes in front of me and I grin as I realize he’s holding back laughter of his own. Wilder has no such hindrances and practically howls at the moon with the strength of his own amusement.

“Kat!” Wyatt must make a move, because Emrys suddenly swoops around and lifts me into his arms.

“Yes!” I cheer. “With my personal overgrown bodyguard, you’ll never get me!” I let out an exaggerated evil laugh which ends in a whoosh of breath as Emrys plops me on my ass on a bench. He crosses his massive tattooed arms over the overly stretched t-shirt on his chest and gazes down on me, the flames from the still raging fire casting wicked shadows on his features and emphasizing his already intimidating presence.

“Tell me, Kitten,” his accented voice is low and rumbly in his throat, and I shift as a sudden flash of heat starts burning low within me.

I paste on an innocent smile and cock my head up at him as he towers over me, noting out of the corner of my eye that Wyatt has moved to stand beside him. Chicken suit aside, his authoritative energy is still ever-present and has me shrinking at the hunger on his features. But is he hungry for vengeance, or something else?

Emrys continues speaking, not at all aware of the shift in my psyche from amusement to…something else. “If I was the one chosen, would I be standing here in that chicken suit?” My eyes widen slightly before I paste on a calculative face and scan him from head to toe in a slow, drawn out move.

Tapping one finger on my chin, I finally meet his eyes before answering, “I mean…” His eyes darken similarly to Wyatt’s and his frame goes still. “As much of you as we could fit in the suit, absolutely.”

I squeal as they both lunge towards me and quickly roll backwards off of the bench before leaping back to my feet and taking off into the night, accidentally shedding Emrys’ jacket in the process.

Dammit. I was totally going to keep that.

I shoot past a bewildered Wilder and grab his hand as I go. “Run, Wilder! The chickens are attacking!” Laughing, he stumbles slightly before sprinting right beside me.

And so the chase is on.

My lungs are burning as I sprint down the moonlit beach, practically dragging Wilder along behind me. I risk a glance back, my pulse kicking up a notch at the sight of Wyatt and Emrys in hot pursuit, determination in their eyes.

"They're gaining on us!" I yelp, pushing my legs faster through the soft sand. I've always hated running but the adrenaline pounding through me makes me feel gloriously alive.

Wilder glances back with a wide grin, never breaking stride. "Just leave it to me, darlin'!" Before I can react, he scoops me up bridal-style as he continues booking it down the shoreline. I let out an indignant squeak, slapping at his shoulders.

"Put me down, you brute!"

Wilder just chuckles, unfazed. "No can do. We gotta make our grand getaway!"

Despite myself, I feel laughter bubbling up. On a normal day, I might find this kind of audacity infuriating, but I can't deny that being in his arms is a thrill. His blue eyes spark with mischief beneath the moonlight.

"Sorry boys, finders-keepers!" Wilder calls tauntingly over his shoulder. I peek back to see Wyatt and Emrys gaining ground, their eyes blazing and causing something delightfully wicked to stir low in my belly.

Just then, Wilder hooks a hard left, sprinting straight for the darkened treeline up ahead. My eyes go wide. "Wait, where are we going?!"

"You'll see!" He says with a wink, plunging us into the shadows beneath the palm fronds without slowing down. I cling tighter to his shoulders, my heart racing as he navigates skillfully through the trees. We come to an abrupt stop in a secluded clearing, moonlight filtering down in muted beams all around us.

Wilder gently sets me down but stays close, his hands lingering at my waist. Our breaths mingle in the charged air, both of us buzzing with exhilaration. His thumb caresses my hip bone through the thin fabric of my dress and my pulse skyrockets.

"Well would ya look at that, we lost 'em," Wilder murmurs, his cobalt eyes filled with hunger as they trace my features. He slowly cups my cheek in his palm, calluses scraping my sensitive skin. "Now, where were we, darlin'?"

Before I can even think to respond, his lips capture mine in a blistering kiss. My fingers dig into his muscular shoulders at the sudden passion overwhelming my senses. Wilder walks me backwards until my back hits a tree trunk, his hard body pressing into me insistently.

I gasp into his mouth as his tongue meets mine, my knees nearly buckling from the bolt of desire that shoots through me. He swallows my breathy moan, one hand trailing down to grasp my hip as the other threads through my windswept hair. I'm drowning in everything Wilder, my skin on fire everywhere we touch.

Just when I'm about to throw all caution to the wind and surrender completely, the sound of crunching leaves nearby has us springing apart hastily. Wyatt and Emrys emerge into the moonlit clearing, chests heaving from exertion, eyes dark and stormy. The air crackles with anticipation.

"Well, looks like you found us," Wilder drawls, careful to keep his tone casual. But I hear the undercurrent of irritation at our moment being cut short.

Wyatt strides closer, raking a hand through his usually impeccable hair. A distinctly ruffled version of his normally polished self. "Yes, it appears we have."

His eyes flick to my kiss-swollen lips before boring into Wilder. Emrys lingers in the background, shoulders tense, watching the stand-off unfold.

I press my palms to my heated cheeks, willing my racing pulse to slow down. But it's a lost cause at this point. A line has been crossed–more than one, actually–ones I didn’t even know had been drawn yet based on the tension between the three men around me.

Wyatt's eyes bore into Wilder, a muscle feathering in his jaw. Emrys stays quiet, coiled tension in his powerful frame. The charged moment hangs suspended, the air heavy with anticipation. Before anything can ignite, a distant crack of thunder rumbles through the skies. I glance up, catching sight of ominous clouds gathering overhead. The faint scent of ozone hits my senses.

A raindrop splashes down, cold on my heated skin. Then another. And suddenly the skies open up, a deluge of warm tropical rain drenching us in seconds.

"We should head back," I shout over the downpour. With the electricity of the moment effectively doused, Wyatt nods briskly and Wilder shrugs, sending a splash of water my way.

We make our way through the trees, the mud sucking at our feet. Emrys' broad hand rests on my lower back, guiding me through the dark forest unerringly. Back on the beach, we sprint through the torrents until the resort lights glow ahead through the haze.

I burst into the lobby, drenched and exhilarated, the men following close behind. The concierge's eyes widen to the size of saucers at our bedraggled appearance. Water streams from Wilder that he does nothing to stop. Wyatt attempts to wring out his thoroughly soaked chicken suit that I completely forgot he was wearing. Emrys shakes his head like a dog, droplets flying everywhere.

I make eye contact with each of them in turn, all of us looking like half-drowned rats. Laughter bubbles up and soon we're all doubled over, soaked to the bone, unable to contain it.

With the heated tension dissipated by the downpour, I feel myself relax as we make our way towards the elevators together, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind us. There will be time to figure this all out later. But for now, we're just four people, taking shelter from the storm.

Chapter 14

The elevator doors slide open with a ding and we step into the lavish penthouse suite, water still dripping from our soaked frames onto the polished marble floors.

"You boys might want to get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold," Kat says breezily over her shoulder as she heads for the master bedroom. "And Wyatt, you should really have the resort dry clean that chicken suit. You'll be needing it again tomorrow." She punctuates her words with a melodic laugh before disappearing into the bedroom and shutting the door firmly behind her.

As soon as the definitive click of the latch sounds, the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. The easy grin I've kept plastered on my face all night slips, my jaw clenching tightly. Now to deal with these two killjoys after they ruined my fun.

Wyatt busies himself gathering up the clothes we'd haphazardly strewn about earlier, his usual unflappable control clearly rattled if he's reduced to nervous tidying. I notice his hands tightening in anger over the items as he folds them into perfect squares. Good.

Meanwhile, Emrys stands sentry in front of the bedroom door, arms crossed menacingly over his barrel chest, his hulking frame impossible to ignore. His piercing golden-green eyes bore into me, as if trying to intimidate me. Fat chance.

Simmering irritation steals through me, setting my blood to a slow boil. Just who do these two stuffed shirts think they are, horning in on my private time with Kat? I'm the one who lit that fire in her eyes tonight. Felt the rising heat of her skin beneath my hands as I pulled her close. Her lips had yielded so sweetly beneath mine before we were so rudely interrupted by the fun police.

Kat wants me. I'd stake my reputation on it. And I'll be damned if I let a couple of starched collars like Wyatt and Emrys get in the way.

Wyatt finishes his neurotic tidying and turns to fully face me, squaring his shoulders like he's gearing up for a fight. "I believe we need to establish some clear boundaries here regarding Kathryn," he begins, his polished tone tight with restrained irritation.

I let out a sharp laugh. "Boundaries? That's cute and all, but I don't remember signing anything saying I had to keep my hands off the lady, chicken shit." I make sure to draw out the reminder to his outfit mockingly.

At my insolent words, Emrys steps closer, using his imposing size to try and intimidate me. I have to clench my fists tightly to resist the urge to take a swing at his smug face.

"Kat isn’t yours to paw at," Emrys rumbles, his voice gravelly with suppressed anger.

Not one to back down easily, I stride forward until we're nearly chest to chest, peering up at him defiantly. "From where I was standing, out there under the moonlight, she didn't seem to mind my hands on her one little bit," I shoot back recklessly.

At this, Wyatt's usual calm facade shatters completely as anger flashes clearly across his patrician features. His hands clench into tight fists at his sides.

"Need I remind you, our purpose here is to be gentlemen. We are to provide whatever support Kathryn needs, nothing more," Wyatt grits out, practically trembling with tightly leashed fury.

Gentlemen? Don't make me laugh. As if either of these overgrown boy scouts could ever really understand what a woman like Kat truly wants, what she needs. That unrestrained kiss we shared proved what her body craves, even if her mind resists. And I'm just the man to stoke that fire until she submits.

It will be so fun.

I offer them a cocky grin, recklessness and irritation overriding any sense of self-preservation. “Yeah? Well to hell with your gentlemanly bullshit. If you two pansies want to tuck tail and step aside, be my guest.”

At my crass words, Emrys bristles, straightening to his full impressive height, tattoos rippling menacingly. Meanwhile, Wyatt looks about ready to throttle me, barely leashed rage burning in his slate gray eyes. The testosterone and challenge hanging thick and heavy in the air is thicker than molasses on a cold December morning. You could cut through it as clean as a hot knife through butter.

Wyatt takes a measured step towards me, his voice lethally calm. "Allow me to make this unambiguously clear. I have absolutely no intention of stepping aside as you so crudely put it. This is a job. Nothing more."

Liar.

“If you say so, old man.” I lean against the wall behind me without a care in the world. “But me? I’m always down for a little fun. And Kat is just so…tempting. Isn’t she?”

They both turn away as if done with my shit and I grin.

They can act like they’re not at all a part of this game, but that will just make it all the more entertaining when they lose.

Poor chumps.

Chapter 15

Ugh. Who turned on the sun?

I groan and flop an arm over my eyes in an attempt to block out the offensive brightness assaulting me through the curtains. Maybe if I pretend hard enough I can trick my body into believing it's not morning yet.

No such luck. As the memories from last night flood back in, sleep evades me. The moonlit romp on the beach, Wilder's blistering kiss, the heated moment in the rainforest glade. My pulse picks up, thrumming with residual embarrassment and excitement in equal measure.

What's happening to me? I'm Kathryn Sharpe, level-headed entrepreneur extraordinaire. Yet here I am, acting like a hormonal teenager. I need to get a grip!

With a sigh, I drag myself out of bed. Time to face the firestorm. I choose a breezy yellow sundress and take a fortifying breath before stepping out into the living area. Wyatt, Wilder, and Emrys are already up, sipping coffee around the dining table looking irritatingly awake. Three pairs of eyes instantly hone in on me.

"Mornin' sunshine," Wilder drawls with a playful grin that makes my pulse flutter traitorously. Down girl!

"Coffee?" Wyatt asks politely, already pouring me a cup before handing it to me without waiting for a reply. I smile gratefully and take a long sip, grinning as I take in the chicken suit professionally cleaned and pressed to perfection gracing his body. He merely rolls his eyes as he catches me looking.

My phone chimes with Annabelle's breakfast summons before anyone can speak. I scroll through the details out loud. "Family breakfast in twenty minutes." I meet their eyes questioningly.

Wilder shrugs. "I'm game if you are, darlin'."

Emrys nods, eyes unreadable as always. Wyatt straightens the neck of the chicken suit. "We're here to accompany you as you need, Kathryn."

"Well alright then," I sigh. "Let's go charm the masses, shall we?"

We take the elevator down together, the air thick with unspoken words. Stepping out into the air conditioned reception area does little to dispel the heat simmering beneath my skin.

Jeez Louise. What’s wrong with me? It’s like I’ve become a besotten FMC from a romance novel.

Annabelle waves enthusiastically when she spots all four of us approaching together, clearly enjoying this far too much. We take our seats at the crowded table as the food is passed around family-style.

Between mouthfuls of bacon and sips of coffee, I feel three sets of eyes flick my way periodically, making me hyper-aware of their nearness. Their thighs accidentally brush mine beneath the table, sending sparks up my spine.

Knock it off, hormones!

Trying to turn my attention back to eating, it’s not long before I notice Emrys engaging in a staring contest with one of my toddler cousins at the table next to us, making the little girl erupt into giggles. The sound makes something warm swell unexpectedly in my chest.

"So, what trouble are we getting up to today?" Dad asks jovially when the meal winds down, pulling me from my thoughts. “You know, besides the rest of the chicken shit’s torture”

I laugh as Dad jerks his head at Wyatt playfully, but before I can answer, my eyes catch sight of my worst possible nightmare.

“Annabelle! You didn’t!” I whirl to face her, my voice spitting out on a hiss. She looks shocked at my change in demeanor for a moment before she glances around and sees what drew my attention. Guilt washes over her features as she pales and stiffens in her seat.

Dad and the guys all glance between the two of us in confusion, at a loss as to what’s going on. I ignore them all. The racing of my heart makes it impossible to even consider anyone else’s needs at the moment.

“Kat, I swear I didn’t want to. Mom made me because she’s friends with his mom.”

“With no warning?!” I hiss and she winces as if slapped. A pang of my own guilt tries to rear its ugly head, but I beat it down like Whack-A-Mole.

“We didn’t think he would show–”

“I am literally going to k-”

“Kathy?” His voice sends a thick layer of ick rolling down my spine and I shoot ramrod straight in my seat. My glare is focused on Annabelle, and the apology in her eyes–while appreciated–does nothing to quell the sickening feeling in my gut.

“Kathryn, are you okay?” Wyatt’s large hand settles on my thigh, the heat of his touch seeping through my dress with ease, helping to center me and avoid the panic that’s hovering threateningly at the edges of my mind. I shoot him a tight smile, but the worry in his eyes only grows at the obvious fake-out that it is.

A clammy hand lands on the exposed skin of my shoulder and I shoot to my feet, dislodging the touch and jostling the entire table in the process. The noise attracts the attention of my many extended family members scattered throughout the dining area, but I pay them no mind. I’m quickly backing away from the ghost of my past that happened to choose the worst timing in the world to resurface in my life.

My fucking ex.

“Brody.” I steel my spine and lift my chin before finally turning to the devil himself.

Ugh, just looking at my hot mess of an ex is enough to make me want to gag. Sure, the man looks like a Greek God's wet dream. Over six feet of tanned, toned muscle topped with artfully tousled dark brown hair you might ache to run your hands through. His face is sharply sculpted, with chiseled cheekbones and a strong jawline covered in perpetual five o'clock shadow. His eyes are a piercing sky blue, framed by long, inky lashes that stared straight into your soul.

But as irresistible as Brody is physically, his personality leaves much to be desired. Behind those immaculately crafted features is a cocky, self-important asshole. The kind of guy who checks himself out in store windows and expects you to constantly compliment how amazing he looks.

Sure, he played the part to woo me in. Doting on me at first and saying all the right things. But it ended there. As soon as he had me, that all stopped.

He saw me as a trophy, not an actual girlfriend.

He took me on lavish dates but never bothered getting to know the real me. He didn't care about my hopes, fears or passions. And he certainly did not appreciate my quick wit or fiery spirit. No, Brody wanted silent, pretty eye candy on his arm, not a partner.

So even though being with him was once like a drug–an irresistible high–eventually his superficiality and arrogance became too much. No matter how breathtakingly hot he is, it wasn't enough. Because at the end of the day, his ugly personality ruined it all. While he was once able to make my knees weak with just a glance, now his cocky grin just makes me see red.

"Kathy, babe, long time no see," he drawls, raking his eyes over me in a way that makes me want to take a scalding hot shower. "Looking as hot as ever."

I fight the urge to sneer in disgust or–more temptingly–toss the contents of my coffee cup in his perfectly chiseled face. Brody always did bring out the more violent urges in me. Instead, I square my shoulders and meet his smarmy gaze head-on.

"It's Kathryn," I correct crisply. "And yes, it's been a while. A blissful while."

Brody has the gall to look wounded, clasping his hand over his heart. "Ouch, after everything we meant to each other, you're gonna be cold like that?"

Everything we meant to each other? Is he seriously trying to rewrite history now? I dated this emotionally-stunted man-child for two destructive years too long, before finally wising up. He never cared about anyone but himself. I clench my fists, anger and past hurt roiling inside me like a gathering storm.

But before I can spit out a scathing retort, Wyatt appears at my side, his sturdy presence instantly calming me. He slips his hand into mine and I revel in the strength I draw from his touch. "I don't believe we've met," Wyatt says smoothly, fixing Brody with a look that could freeze lava. "I'm Wyatt, Kathryn's boyfriend."

Something ugly flashes across Brody's preppy features before his smarmy mask slides back into place and he casts an amused perusal over Wyatt’s chicken costume. He knows what it’s for. I’ve told him the stories and it always bothered the hell out of him that I never invited him to family functions to be initiated. Not that he cared about being involved, he just cared about being excluded.

He never would have put the chicken suit on. His vanity would never have allowed him to. He would have thrown a fit and embarrassed me. The realization is another blow to my self-esteem. He was never good enough for me if I never wanted him to be a part of my family.

Brody plasters on an exaggerated smile and reaches out to shake Wyatt's hand. "Brody. Kat's ex," he emphasizes pointedly. "Good to meet you, man."

Wyatt's answering grip is vice-like. A primal part of me thrills at the show of masculine posturing over little ol' me. Brody tries and fails to hide his wince.

"Charmed," Wyatt replies dryly.

Just as Brody opens his mouth, likely to say something infuriating, Wilder sidles up on my other side. "Well hey there, fella," Wilder drawls, his southern accent exaggerated. Before I can react, he slings a casual, protective arm around my shoulders and tugs me in close to his side. "Name’s Wilder. Kat’s boyfriend."

The heat from Wilder's palm seeps through my thin sundress to brand my bare skin. Yet, oddly, I find it comforting rather than presumptuous. Brody's eye twitches almost imperceptibly at this display of easy intimacy between Wilder and I. It cuts through his cocky facade ever so slightly.

"Kat never mentioned she had a new boyfriend. Let alone two," Brody forces out a hollow laugh after a brief hesitation. His sky blue eyes flick between Wyatt and Wilder, clearly trying to figure out what exactly he walked in on. I have to resist the urge to smile victoriously. For once, I've left the great Brody Klein utterly bewildered.

Before he can imply anything crass or suggestive about my character based on this unconventional situation he's stumbled upon, Emrys appears behind me. His imposing yet comforting presence presses against my back, his inner heat seeping into my skin.

Wyatt and Wilder both shift subtly, exchanging subtle nods with Emrys over my head. Without a word, the three of them present a united and impenetrable front.

Emrys levels Brody with a forceful glare that has likely wilted far stronger men. "Three," he states simply, his gravelly tone brokering absolutely no argument.

Despite the one word introduction, his meaning rings out loud and clear: Back the hell off. The sheer masculine energy Emrys exudes in this moment sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. And not an unpleasant one, if I'm being fully honest with myself.

Sensing the shift, both Wyatt and Wilder press in closer on either side of me. Wilder's grip tightens ever so slightly over my shoulder, while Wyatt runs the pad of his thumb in a distractingly soothing sweep over my knuckles. They exude solidarity, strength and an air of warning without a single word passing between the three of them. And oddly, their display only fills me with an exhilarating sense of warmth and care that cuts through the dark anger Brody's presence stirred up.

Meanwhile, the man in question looks positively bewildered at this development he clearly wasn't prepared for. His cocksure stance loses some of its bravado. That infuriatingly charming grin of his flickers uncertainly as he glances between the three intimidating men now presenting an impenetrable wall of protection around me.

Brody looks between the three of us, dumbfounded. Clearly this is not the smug reunion he was expecting.

"Well...seems you've got your hands full these days, Kat." He forces out a chuckle. "Can't say I ever took you for the type to be so…adventurous."

Anger ripples through me at the judgmental dig. I open my mouth, a scathing retort on my lips, when Wyatt beats me to it.

"I assure you, your opinion on Kathryn's personal affairs is neither required nor desired," he says coldly. His slate gray eyes bore into Brody, sharp as steel.

Brody visibly bristles, his cocky mask slipping further. Ah, nothing hurts his inflated ego more than utter dismissal. Before he can respond, Wilder nuzzles his nose against my ear playfully.

"C'mon darlin', this fella's harshin' my good mood. Let's skedaddle and leave Debbie Downer to his lonesome." His exaggerated drawl makes me bite back a smile despite the irritation still simmering inside me.

Emrys grunts in agreement behind us. His large hand presses reassuringly against my lower back, guiding me away from the toxic encounter I'm all too eager to escape. I shoot Brody one last frosty look over my shoulder.

"Lovely chat. Let's not do it again sometime."

As we walk away, I hear Brody sputtering indignantly but I don't look back. Wyatt and Wilder stay close on either side of me as Emrys trails protectively behind. Their barely restrained fury simmers palpably beneath the surface. Yet, oddly, I've never felt safer.

"Well that was..." Wyatt searches for the right word.

"A steaming pile of horseshit!" Wilder provides cheerfully.

Despite everything, I can't help the laughter that bubbles out of me. Soon, all four of us are releasing the adrenaline from the encounter through unrestrained mirth.

As we catch our breath, an unexpected warmth swells inside me. With these three intriguing men, I feel untouchable, understood...seen.

Maybe this ridiculous fake boyfriend scheme wasn't such a bad idea after all.

We make our way across the gleaming lobby, the minty scent of eucalyptus from the decorative plants filling the air. The tension from our encounter with Brody continues to dissipate with each step.

I’m struck once again by how, despite barely knowing me, these three men had my back without question. Even Wyatt and Emrys, who tend to play things close to the vest, showed a united, protective front. And Wilder, ever the wildcard, matched their intensity despite his casual charm.

My heart squeezes unexpectedly. I really have to stop reading so many romance novels. They’re distorting my perspective on relationships. This is a business arrangement, nothing more.

So why does the thought make my stomach sink like a stone?

Lost in my confusing thoughts, I don’t notice the decorative fountain up ahead. Wyatt’s hand on my elbow steadies me just before I trip gracelessly into the swirling water.

“Careful,” he murmurs, a hint of amusement crinkling his eyes.

My cheeks flush but Wyatt doesn’t let go, keeping a courteous hand on me as we walk. I tell my thrumming pulse it’s simply gratitude for saving me from an embarrassing unanticipated bath. Even as my skin tingles everywhere we touch.

As we pass the front desk, the concierge calls out. “Excuse me, Ms. Sharpe? This gift basket was left for you.”

I exchange curious glances with the guys before approaching the front counter. An impressive assortment of tropical fruits, gourmet chocolates, and expensive champagne is artfully arranged in a woven basket, with an orange–my least favorite color–bow tied around it. There’s no note attached.

Wilder lets out an impressed whistle. “Well, well, someone’s trying to get on your good side. Can’t say I blame them.” He waggles his eyebrows outrageously and I have to fight back an amused grin.

“No note. Secret admirer perhaps?” Wyatt asks politely, though there’s a tightness around his eyes.

I scan the lavish gift display, a niggling suspicion forming. “I have a pretty good idea who it’s from actually.”

Right on cue, my phone chimes with an incoming text. It’s just one word from a number I never thought I’d see again.

Brody.

The text simply reads: “Truce?”

I delete the message with more force than necessary. Looks like Brody is up to his old tricks, trying to slither back into my life through flashy gifts and hollow gestures. Too bad for him I see right through it now.

“How about we donate this to the resort staff,” I suggest breezily, determined not to let Brody ruin another moment of my time here.

Wyatt nods. “An excellent idea.” With that, our little ragtag group turns and walks out of the front entrance, heading straight towards the beach.

As we walk along the shoreline, leaving footprints in the pristine sand, I sense the guys exchanging loaded looks behind my back. I keep my gaze focused on the azure waves lapping gently against the beach, waiting.

Sure enough, Wilder is the first to break the tense silence. “Soooo, you and Bro-ham back there clearly have some history,” he prods lightly, sidling up next to me.

I press my lips together, debating how much to reveal. Sensing my reluctance, Wyatt chimes in diplomatically from my other side. “You have no obligation to discuss anything you’re not comfortable with, Kathryn.”

I shoot him a small, grateful smile. But oddly, I find I don’t mind opening up a bit to them. “Brody is very much an ex for good reason. We dated for two years until I finally came to my senses.”

Emrys grunts, prompting me to continue.

I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “He was arrogant, self-centered, and saw me as an accessory. Not to mention a master manipulator. His flashy gifts and hollow charm used to sway me constantly.”

“What a bastard,” Wilder proclaims like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I have to laugh at his succinct summation.

“That’s putting it mildly. Let’s just say the romantic haze wore off quickly once I realized it was all superficial. And…” I shake my head, not wanting to get into the most heartbreaking part of the whole thing.

Wyatt and Emrys exchange a loaded glance I can’t quite decipher.

Trying to lighten the mood, I bump Wilder’s shoulder playfully. “Tell me there aren’t exes you regret in your past.”

“Oh I’ve got stories, darlin’, believe me,” Wilder says with a roguish wink. “But lucky for you, I was saving my charm for the right lady.”

Ignoring my suddenly racing pulse, I meet Wyatt’s thoughtful gaze. “We’ve all been there in one way or another,” he acknowledges simply. I sense volumes unsaid in his words.

“Even you, big guy?” Wilder prods Emrys teasingly.

Emrys just levels him with a stare that could cut steel. “No exes,” he states gruffly. His golden eyes slide my way and my breath catches at the intensity in his gaze.

I clear my throat, aiming for levity, but before I can say a word, a torrent of shouting and singing suddenly sounds up ahead and I squint into the distance before realization sets in.

“Run!” I turn and shove at Wyatt, but I can’t get him to budge. I’m wasting precious moments of escape time.

“What? Why do we have to run?” He doesn’t move and I spin around to see the impending crowd of doom and chaos drawing closer.

“You’ll regret not listening to me.” I wink, and then I spin on my heels and duck behind Emrys–the biggest of the three–who will most definitely provide the most cover.

I just manage to get entirely behind him when the first signs of attack appear. A glint of silver in the sky, white substance flinging from the object and splattering all three of my fake boyfriends-slash bodyguards-slash-shields right before the object connects with a plop on Wyatt’s chest.

He gazes down at the pie tin stuck to the front of the chicken costume in bewilderment before his eyes finally flick up and find mine. I shrug my shoulders from behind Emrys and blow him a kiss. “Welcome to the family, Wy. Enjoy your pie.”

And then I take off into a line of palm trees right before the rest of the pie bombs start flying through the air.

“Kat!”

“Kathryn!”

“Grr!”

But it’s too late. I’m already gone.

Chapter 16

I shout after Kathryn’s fleeing figure after the first pie smacks wetly against my chest. Before I can move to give chase, I'm bombarded by a barrage of soaring baked goods. Blueberry bursts across my shoulder, lemon meringue splatters my arm, and apple oozes down my back. The chicken suit offers no protection from the ruthless assault.

Laughter and shouts ring out as Kathryn's family members emerge from every direction, flinging pies with gleeful abandon. I swipe banana cream out of my eyes just in time to see Wilder get nailed right in the face with key lime. Even Emrys grunts as a chocolate pie explodes across his barreled chest.

We're hopelessly outnumbered and surrounded. Kathryn is long gone, the little traitor. I remind myself this is meant to be good fun even as I spit out a glob of cherry filling.

"Tasty," Wilder grumbles good-naturedly, attempting to wipe the pie residue from his strong jawline. His cocky composure not at all a casualty in this battle. In fact, he seems to be enjoying himself.

Emrys just shakes his head, flinging bits of chocolate from his long mane of hair. I almost want to laugh at the unlikely sight of this hulking, intimidating figure splattered with dessert.

"It seems we've been initiated," I concede wryly, accepting my crusty, fruit-adorned fate. If this is what it takes to earn Kathryn's family approval, so be it. I catch a glimpse of her vibrant smile across the beach as she leans casually against a palm tree like a queen leaning against her throne, solely responsible for our current predicament. Yet, I find I don't mind one bit.

This fierce, fascinating woman is burrowing her way beneath my defenses, whether I like it or not.

The attackers have all fled into the trees or down the beach–back to wherever they came from–and I can’t help the quirk of my lips. She’s still lounging against the palm tree without a care in the world, but as I straighten my spine, she picks up on the subtle change and stiffens like a deer who just heard a noise in the woods.

I turn to Emrys and Wilder, both looking as absurdly dessert-splattered as I feel. "Gentlemen, I believe we have a mischief-maker to catch."

Wilder's eyes gleam, his grin dripping with blueberry filling. "Thought you'd never ask, buddy. Last one to grab Kat buys the drinks tonight!"

And with that, he takes off down the beach. Emrys rumbles his agreement and strides after Kat's trail purposefully, powerful muscles bunching. Never one to be left behind, I quickly join the chase.

Kat squeals before turning and racing off, but she’s far outmatched now.

My shoes sink into the sand as I run, weighing me down, so I fling them off with wild abandon. Up ahead, Emrys barrels forward like an unstoppable freight train. Wilder keeps pace, gliding smoothly across the dunes.

I grit my teeth and push harder. Sand sprays behind me as the shoreline whips by in a blur. The sun beats down, pie filling mixing with sweat, the absurd chicken suit plastered uncomfortably to my chest. Still, I won't let our elusive quarry escape so easily. I summon every last ounce of energy for one final burst of speed.

And there, running near the water's edge, is Kathryn.

Her vibrant yellow sundress hugs her curves enticingly as she splashes through the shallow surf, carefree and radiant beneath the tropical sun as she dodges the few meanderers on the beach. Chest heaving, I nearly trip as I take her in. Golden droplets cling to her sun-kissed skin and flyaway strands of her hair dance in the sea breeze. Joy emanates from her, pure and unbridled.

I gain on her and cut her off on her right, heading straight for the waves without hesitation. Her eyes widen comically as I scoop her up amidst her surprised squeal. "Wyatt, don't you da-"

Her threat dies as we hit the water in an impressive splash, submerging us both beneath the crystal surface. We emerge, sputtering and laughing. Kathryn swats at my shoulder indignantly but her eyes give her away, sparkling with amusement.

"You're absolutely incorrigible," she admonishes, but there's no bite to it.

I just grin back unrepentantly. "All's fair in love and war, darling."

Before she can respond, two additional splashes sound on either side of us as Wilder and Emrys join our impromptu ocean frolic. The sound of Kathryn's unrestrained laughter mingles with the gentle lap of waves as they both bombard her with splashing water. Even with my drenched chicken suit plastered uncomfortably to my skin, I can't help grinning at the absolute wonder in her sparkling turquoise eyes.

“You brutes are ruining my dress!” Kathryn protests amidst giggles as Wilder sends an arc of water splashing her way.

“Whoops, sorry darlin’,” he drawls, utterly unrepentant, he apparently lives to rile her up.

Unable to resist, I wade closer, leaving the waist-deep surf to shallower parts, and loop my arms around Kathryn’s cinched waist. “Here, allow me,” I murmur before letting us fall backwards into the crystal waters, submerging us both.

We burst back up, Kathryn sputtering and swatting at my chest in faux indignation, her eyes dancing with humor despite her efforts to glare. “You jerk!”

I can’t help but chuckle at her exaggerated outrage as we stand chest to chest in the gentle shallow waves. “My sincerest apologies, darling. How can I ever make it up to you?”

In response, a wicked grin curves her lips. “That’s it, now you’re really asking for it!”

Before I can react, she twists slightly and launches forward, her soft curves pressed against me as she attempts to dunk me underwater. The feel of her hands grasping my shoulders has my pulse kicking into overdrive.

I latch onto Wilder instinctively for support, but the asshole ducks out of reach with a hoot of laughter, forcing Emrys to bear the brunt of our combined weight. We all collapse in a tangle of flailing limbs and unrestrained laughter.

I end up caging Kathryn beneath the water’s surface, my arms braced on either side of her. Droplets cling alluringly to her long dark lashes and her drenched sundress clings distractingly to every sensuous curve.

Desire surges as we stare at one another, smiles slipping away. “Kathryn...” I find myself murmuring, leaning in helplessly like a moth to her flame.

Our lips just barely meet in a brief, addicting graze before her father’s teasing bellow reaches us from the shoreline. “No canoodling during the tournament! Hustle up, you’ve got a sandcastle competition to win!”

Kathryn jerks back sharply, cheeks endearingly pink as she bites her plump lower lip. Our charged moment doused as quickly as it began. “Last one to shore has to build the moat!” She calls out impishly as she scuttles out from underneath me and splashes her way up the beach with a siren’s grace.

I watch her go, desire and frustration warring within me.

But the temptation to toss restraint aside and kiss her more thoroughly right here grows stronger by the second.

This captivating woman is surely going to be my undoing.

Rushing to catch up, I make sure to stick close by Kathryn’s side as Wilder and Emrys close in around us. The rest of the Sharpe family clan is standing around in groups of four or fives as we all wait for direction.

“Alright gang, we’ve only got one hour before the judging begins,” Roger announces cheerfully once we’ve gathered by the allotted sand plot. “First place winners gets to make the last place losers do their bidding for an entire day, so I hope you all picked good teams!”

A truly wicked grin curves Kathryn’s lips as her captivating gaze locks with mine. “Hope you’re ready to get your hands dirty, boys.”

The image her words inspire has my throat going dry and I don’t hear whatever the other two replied. Does she have any idea the effect she has on me? I clear my throat, trying valiantly to remember this is just a harmless family game, not a racy double entendre.

“I look forward to working closely with you, Kathryn,” I reply as evenly as I can manage.

She arches one delicate brow, a teasing smile playing about her rosebud lips. “Oh, I just bet you do.”

This woman will surely be the death of me, I muse as we begin gathering tools and plotting our masterpiece castle, but what a way to go. Even with clingy pie residue coating my skin and sand grinding in my ridiculous chicken suit, I can’t remember a time I felt more carefree and alive.

“Quit making eyes and grab the flags, Romeo,” Wilder heckles good-naturedly, snapping me back to the task at hand. “We’ve got a castle to construct if we don’t want to end up as someone’s indentured servants.”

Roger overhears this as he passes by and lets out a hearty guffaw. “Good luck with that, son. When it comes to the Sharpes, wicked schemes are our forte.” His eyes crinkle affectionately at his daughter in a way that makes something pang unexpectedly in my chest.

“Guess we better up our game then,” I reply lightly, even as my mind spins. For the first time, I find myself craving something I haven’t for a long time–a family.

With a start, I realize that’s exactly what Kathryn makes me feel–like I belong. Could it truly be that simple?

A gentle hand on my forearm jolts me from my dangerous musings. Kathryn's eyes search my face, a slight furrow to her brow. “Everything okay?”

I settle into her gentle touch, allowing the warmth of her touch to ground me as I shoot her a small smile. “Right as rain. Now, let’s build a castle fit for our queen.”

The answering smile she gifts me rivals the radiance of the sun overhead. In that moment, nothing else matters but making sure it stays right there on her lovely face.

“Here, here!” Wilder shouts as we all get down to business, but I’m impossibly distracted.

This woman has breached my defenses with ease and awakened longings I thought were better left buried. I should be troubled by how quickly she's slipped beneath my skin. Instead, I'm anticipating wherever this unexpected adventure takes us next.

Chapter 17

The sun beams down as we get to work on our masterpiece sandcastle, its rays seeming to shine a bit brighter now that my somber mood has lifted. There's something utterly carefree about digging my toes into the soft sand alongside Wyatt, Wilder, and Emrys, that puts a grin on my face and wings on my heart.

Dad wasn't kidding when he mentioned my family’s competitive schemes though. A quick survey of the beach reveals my cousins gathered nearby pretending not to watch us, though their sly glances and muffled laughter suggest they have sabotage on their minds.

I nudge Wyatt and nod towards the potential troublemakers. "Keep an eye on those rogues. They'd destroy Buckingham Palace itself if they thought it would earn them a win."

Wyatt chuckles, the rich sound doing funny things to my insides. "Duly noted. Though we might have as much trouble keeping this team in line," he says wryly, eyeing Wilder attempting to sculpt what looks suspiciously like a large bosom out of sand.

"It's art!" Wilder insists with an impish grin when I shoot him a quelling look.

Rolling my eyes, I turn my attention back to molding a towering spire. Sand squishes between my toes as I work, flecks of white clinging to my legs, the very picture of carefree happiness. It's enchanting, pretending even for a little while that we're just four blissfully ordinary people enjoying a beach day, no tangled strings attached.

A warm hand covers mine as I attempt to pat down a tower, steadying my motions. "Gently now," Wyatt murmurs, his breath tickling my ear and sending goosebumps trailing down my neck. His guiding fingers, pressed intimately over mine, turn the simple act of sculpting sand into something that steals my breath.

A throat clears pointedly, breaking the moment. I glance up to see Emrys frowning down at our cozy position. An irrational flush of guilt warms my cheeks. Get it together, Kat! Reminding myself this is all pretend does little to slow my pounding pulse.

I subtly shift away from Wyatt's distracting proximity and grab a seashell to press into the castle wall as an ornament. "Let's keep focused, boys. I don't intend to lose and be at anyone's mercy."

"Careful what you wish for, darlin'," Wilder drawls, waggling his eyebrows.

Ignoring the heat his implication sparks, I level a stern look at each of them in turn. "We have a castle to build, soldiers. Now get to it!"

Three voices chime their assent, but beneath the playful camaraderie, an undercurrent of competition and anticipation thrums in the air around us. Because when it comes to these three, even a simple sandcastle is destined to become so much more.

We fall into an easy rhythm, working to sculpt towers, bridges, and ramparts. Laughter and playful banter flow as freely as the ocean waves. Under Emrys’ careful eye, the main keeps and gatehouses take shape, far sturdier than any amateur's attempt. Wyatt smoothly polishes decorative seashells into the walls with an artist’s eye, muttering something about the seashells enhancing the aesthetic.

Meanwhile, Wilder constructs an array of wonky turrets in varying heights. “It’s modular, trust me,” he insists when I eye his handiwork skeptically.

As a part of a tower takes shape beneath my hands, movement catches my eye. Two of my younger cousins creep towards us, poorly concealing plastic pails full of water. Their intent is clear.

My eyes narrow dangerously.

They scamper forward before I can raise the sound of alarm and splash the contents of the buckets over our castle’s east tower.

“You little heathens!” I yell after them as they sprint away, shrieking and laughing wildly.

Our team stares for a beat at the waterlogged tower, dripping pathetically under the bright sun. Then Wilder lets out a booming guffaw. “Nice try, kiddos!” He calls out cheerfully with a good-natured shake of his head.

Wyatt claps a supportive hand on my shoulder. “No harm done, we’ll just reinforce it.” His steady calm soothes my ruffled feathers. We quickly rebuild the damaged section, patting it firmly into place.

“We’re going to need sentries to keep watch for further attacks,” I mutter, scanning the crowded beach suspiciously.

Emrys nods, his broad frame exuding readiness. “I’ll guard the north flank,” he rumbles before lopping off to stand watch, muscles flexing.

I turn back to embellishing a tower with shells and nearly jump out of my skin when a pair of arms wrap around me from behind. “I’ll guard this backside personally,” Wilder drawls playfully.

Swatting at his hands, I twist to fix him with a stern glare. “Control those wandering paws, cowboy. We’ve got bigger issues at the moment.” I gesture discreetly with my chin towards more cousins hovering nearby pretending to enjoy a moment in the sun to stretch, though their covert glances betray their sabotage intentions.

Wilder's grin doesn't dim one bit, clearly enjoying riling me up. But he dutifully moves off to stand guard on the south side, feet sunk into the sand.

“Think you can help me make up for the loss in labor that we just had to resource out as security?” I ask Wyatt pointedly.

He blinks, looking unfairly adorable as sand dusts his chiseled cheekbones. “I’m a sandcastle professional,” he assures smoothly and now I’m the one blinking at him. But then he smirks and I have to quickly avert my eyes as heat crawls up my neck.

“Good. Then let’s fortify these walls before the next attack comes.”

We work diligently, though the temptation to steal glances at each other proves difficult to resist. As the sun beats down, Wyatt shrugs off the top of the chicken suit and ties it at his waist, leaving him bare from the waist up. Catching his sun-kissed skin dripping with tantalizing beads of sweat, I nearly drop a bucket of sand down my dress trying not to gawk.

Just then, a new motion catches my eye from the treeline. Annabelle, Ethan, and Dad lurk there with water balloons in hand and mischief in their smiles. My eyes widen. “Incoming, take cover!” I yell.

Wyatt instantly tugs me down, shielding my body with his as a barrage of water balloons pelt our castle mercilessly. Gleeful whoops and laughter sound from our attackers before they scamper away again.

Heart racing from the near miss, I lift my head cautiously. Wyatt peers down at me, face inches away. I flush, overly aware of his solid weight pinning me into the sand, his arms caging me in. “Uh, thanks,” I mumble awkwardly. “Good reflexes.”

“I’ve got you,” he says simply. And though it’s part of his paid role here, the promise in his stormy eyes makes my breath catch.

What could possibly go wrong if we just…

A pointed throat-clearing shatters the moment. Wilder ambles over, looking thoroughly amused. “Y’all gonna help rebuild or should Emrys and I do all the work?”

Wyatt stands swiftly and offers me a hand up, studiously avoiding my gaze. I sigh inwardly. Back to sandcastles it is. This complicated knot we’re tangled in will have to wait.

“Thirty minutes remaining!” My dad’s shout carries on the breeze over where he’s flirting with my mom as she playfully swats off his advances while working on their own castle.

You wouldn’t think my mother–as pristine and appearance focused as she is–would ever get her hands dirty. But my parents are good like that. He draws her out of her shell and brings the fun, and she centers him, preventing his wild nature from growing too chaotic.

I smile softly as she giggles at something he says before focusing on the task at hand. As we patch up our battered castle, I take the opportunity to scan the competition, mind whirring. Time to turn the tables and take the offensive.

I sidle up to Wilder with an innocent smile. "Feel like doing a little reconnaissance work for me, Cowboy?"

His cobalt eyes light up, intrigued. "Now you're speaking my language, darlin'. What did you have in mind?"

I nod discreetly toward Annabelle's team's creation–an elaborate gothic castle complete with soaring buttresses and creepy gargoyles. "I may have some intel that a certain team is particularly protective of their south wall," I say meaningfully.

Wilder grins, catching my drift quick as a whip. "Say no more. I believe some structural instability may soon strike." He saunters off casually and I have to smother my answering grin.

Wyatt sidles up next to me with a quirked brow. "Dare I ask what sort of scheme you just put into motion?"

I widen my eyes innocently. "Now Wyatt, you know good girls don't sabotage sandcastles." Wyatt just smiles, seeing right through my angelic act.

Emrys chimes in with a low rumble of his voice, pretending like he’s just speaking under his breath. "Yes, and lions don't growl, and bears don't sleep in the woods."

“Exactly!” I wink playfully at them both.

Nearby, Wilder pretends to admire Annabelle’s castle walls with exaggerated interest. My sister eyes him warily, guarding her creation from potential threats.

Perfect. While Annabelle focuses on Wilder, she misses me creeping up behind, concealing a bucket of seawater. I’ve got this distraction game down to a science.

My moment comes when Wilder engages Annabelle and Ethan in conversation, drawing all eyes his way. I slip out and stealthily douse the base of the south wall before darting safely back undercover. Right on cue, a chunk of the castle slides down with a satisfying splat.

Annabelle’s enraged, “Hey!”, carries across the sand as I try and fail to smother my triumphant grin. Sandcastle sabotage is as good as therapy.

Wyatt sidles up next to me, amusement glinting in his gray eyes. “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he notes with a chuckle.

I bat my eyelashes innocently. “Who, me? I’m nothing but sugar.”

Wyatt’s gaze dips down, tracing my lips in a way that leaves me breathless. “Obviously…”

Before I can summon any semblance of a coherent response, Wilder ambles back over. “One castle down, two to go. Who’s next on our hit list, your majesty?”

I survey the beach critically like a general planning my next offensive strike. "Let's see how cousin Joey's crew handles a surprise crab invasion..."

As we scheme our next move, laughter comes easy and the sunlight seems to shine a bit brighter. And though I know this playful camaraderie is only fleeting, I intend to enjoy every delicious second of it.

I'm patting the last decorative shell into place when Dad's voice rings out across the beach.

"Fifteen minutes left, castle crews!"

A spike of panic shoots through me. There's still so much left to do! Our castle has come a long way from the humble lump of sand we started with, but it's still missing some key elements.

"Battle stations, team!" I bark, clapping my sandy hands together. "Wyatt, finish carving out the moat. Emrys, keep working on reinforcing that front gate. Wilder, we need more seashells for ornamentation, stat!"

My teammates spring into action without hesitation. Seeing everyone working in smooth unison soothes my nerves. We've got this.

Wyatt's strong hands make quick work of digging a winding moat around the perimeter of our castle. I have to drag my eyes away from the distracting flex of his arm muscles and focus on using wet sand to cement the parapets in place.

Meanwhile, Emrys constructs an impressively sturdy gatehouse, his broad shoulders rippling beneath the sun. With his hair tied back and shirt discarded, the intricate tattoos covering his torso are on full display. I swallow hard, forcing myself not to stare.

Get it together, Kat! Ogling the eye candy will have to wait.

Wilder returns triumphantly with two big pails overflowing with seashells. "Will these work for beautifying our masterpiece castle?"

I grab a handful of the colorful shells, impressed. "These are perfect! Nice find."

Wilder winks. "Only the best for you, darlin'."

Under my direction, we embed the shells artfully into the castle walls for added flair. As I stand back surveying our creation, satisfaction swells within me. The end result exceeded my expectations. Turrets, towers, a working drawbridge, even a fully dug moat now surrounds our majestic beach castle.

"Not too shabby, team," I proclaim proudly, hands on my hips.

Just then, Dad's voice booms out. "Time's up! Step away from your castles."

A small pang of wistfulness hits me as we back away. Our sandcastle may be temporary, destined to melt away with the tide, but the memories we created building it together will remain.

As the judge makes the rounds, I exchange grins with my teammates. "No matter what happens, I already feel like a winner with you jokers by my side," I admit.

And I mean every word.

As the judge approaches our castle, I hold my breath nervously. Our hopes ride on the stern-faced woman–my aunt Greta–holding the scoring clipboard. She surveys our creation for a long minute, occasionally scribbling notes. Her face gives nothing away, schooled into careful neutrality. The silence stretches on agonizingly.

Finally, she looks up and cracks a smile. "Well, this is certainly a castle fit for royalty. The moat is an especially nice touch. Well done."

I blow out a huge breath of relief. We did it! Without thinking, I turn and wrap Emrys–who happens to be closest– in an exuberant hug. His arms instinctively fold around me, warm and secure. Caught up in the thrill of victory, I don't even think to be embarrassed.

Wilder lets out a whoop of celebration and lifts me up as soon as I’m free, spinning me around. I land breathless with exhilaration, feet unsteady in the sand. Wyatt grips my shoulder, smiling that rare heart-stopping smile at our achievement.

It’s another few minutes of judging before Dad stands and raises his hand, bringing all idle chatter to a stop. “Drumroll, Sharpes!” There’s a few moments of pseudo stomps and shouts before he grins. "And the winners are...Kat and her decidedly loyal band of soldiers!" Dad announces proudly.

The beach erupts into cheers and applause as we're declared champions. I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. Winning tastes even sweeter alongside my fake boyfriends.

"So, what'll it be? How should we make the losers suffer?" Wilder rubs his hands together gleefully.

I tap my chin thoughtfully as we watch Joey and his crew–who just so happened to find a dozen crabs emerge from the sand at the center of their castle in the last five minutes of the competition–begin the walk of shame, hanging their heads in defeat.

"I'm feeling generous today. How about we go easy and just make them buy all the drinks tonight?"

My suggestion is met with enthusiastic agreement. As we amble back towards the resort, riding high on victory, Emrys casually drapes his arm around my shoulder. I tense briefly at the sudden display of affection, taken off guard, but eventually relax into it. His inner heat scorches deliciously through my now stiff, sun-dried dress.

On my other side, Wyatt's fingers intertwine loosely with mine like it's the most natural thing. Tingles skitter up my arm at the contact. Meanwhile, Wilder playfully flounces ahead of us, singing a terrible–yet hilarious–rendition of We Are the Champions by Queen, his eyes glimmering mischievously.

Surrounded on all sides by temptation yet filled with contentment, I let myself sink into the charade of intimacy. Just for today, I'll soak up every delicious second of playing house on the beach and imagine what if...

Tomorrow, my sensible brain reminds me, I can return to reality.

Chapter 18

As I lounge in the chair at lunch beside Kat, I can’t take my eyes off of her. Despite the tropical heat, a chill runs through me at the memory of last night–the charged moment Kat and I shared by the bonfire, her lips parted enticingly close to mine. A moment we left unexplored, but one I crave to revisit.

I must find a way to steal her away, if only for a little while. She’s far too tempting.

As Kat laughs at something Wilder is saying, an idea strikes. The resort offers all sorts of private wildlife excursions–it's perfect. There’s even one going on pretty soon. I'll suggest an intimate adventure, just the two of us. No competing distractions or prying eyes.

Anticipation thrums through me at the thought. Out there, enveloped by the ancient jungle, Kat's daring spirit will be unbound and her passion ignited. I'll coax that clever minx to the surface once more.

I clear my throat, drawing Kat's attention. Her turquoise-hued eyes meet mine, curiosity swirling in their depths. "I was thinking...maybe you'd like to join me on a private wildlife tour this afternoon? Just the two of us."

Kat blinks, clearly caught off guard by the invitation. Wyatt and Wilder go silent, watching our exchange closely.

"Oh, um..." She bites her plump lower lip as she glances between me and the other two, pondering.

I lean in, my voice dropping lower. "We could hike through the rainforest, and get up close with exotic creatures in their natural habitat."

A smile tugs at her lips as her adventurous spirit stirs. After an endless pause, she finally nods. "Alright then, a jungle adventure it is."

Triumph surges hotly through my veins. There’ll be no interference this time. I'll finally have her all to myself. My face breaks into a grin, the feeling stiff and unnatural. Come to think of it…when was the last time I smiled properly?

Kat's answering smile makes my pulse pick up. I can't resist reaching out to tuck back an errant strand of her long, wavy chocolate-brown hair, fingers trailing along the elegant slope of her neck. Her lips part on a soft inhale, her turquoise eyes dilating.

A pointed cough shatters the heady moment and I glance up to see Wyatt watching us closely, his sharp gaze missing nothing.

"We should get going if we want to catch the afternoon excursion," I state, standing abruptly and offering Kat my hand. After a brief hesitation, she accepts, her delicate fingers curling trustingly around mine. I have to tamp down a smug grin at the small victory.

Wilder leans back casually in his chair, but his eyes are calculating. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." His jesting words carry an undercurrent of challenge.

I meet his stare evenly. "I'll take good care of her."

Kat glances between us, clearly picking up on the silent stand-off. But she doesn't object as I guide her away from the table and out into the glaring sunshine. Just before we exit the dining area, I risk one glance back at Wyatt and Wilder. Jaws clenched, they watch our departure through hooded gazes.

Good. Let them stew in jealousy for a while.

After quickly changing into suitable jungle hiking attire, we make our way along the coastline towards the tour's meeting point, warm sand shifting beneath our feet. Kat's hand remains securely tucked in mine, a pleasing weight.

"So tell me about this wildlife adventure," she prompts, glancing my way. "What exotic species might we encounter out there?"

Her genuine interest kindles a warmth in my chest. Few take the time to draw me out, but Kat sees beyond the silent brute façade.

"It's a protected reserve, home to endangered creatures found nowhere else." I scan the treeline, imagining what lurks within. "Jaguars, tree boas, spider monkeys. Even some rare birds."

Kat's eyes light up. "That sounds incredible! I'd love to get a glimpse of a jaguar in the wild."

We reach the tour's meeting point, a thatched-roof hut tucked against encroaching jungle. Vines crawl along the walls and the air buzzes with insect songs. Our guide appears, his weathered face creasing into a smile as he regards us.

"Ready for an adventure?" He gestures towards the shadowy tree line.

Side by side, we step into the jungle’s embrace. It swallows us in a tangle of vines and steamy foliage. Our guide leads us along twisting trails, pointing out exotic plants and wildlife camouflaged amidst the green.

Kat listens with rapt attention, her naturalist spirit soaking up every detail. She probably already knows most of what the guide is saying, but she doesn’t care. When an iridescent blue morpho butterfly flutters past, she watches wide-eyed as a child. Each new marvel is met with a brilliant smile that is so familiar to how I feel when among the wildlife.

I’ve always fit in better among animals.

Which makes this job as a fake boyfriend all the more torturous. If it weren’t for the closing of so many vets and animal centers around the country, I’d never have to do it. But with my lack of savings, and need for an income, it was the best paid option I had as a temporary gig.

I find myself watching her more than our surroundings, captivated by her joy and wonder. Her cheeks flush becomingly from the humid air, tendrils of hair escaping their braid to frame her face. She catches me staring and arches a teasing brow.

"Don't tell me you're bored of our jungle adventure already," she whispers playfully.

"Not with you here," I murmur back, surprising even myself.

Kat blinks, cheeks pinking further. Before she can respond, a distant monkey's cry echoes through the trees, making our guide gesture excitedly.

"Spider monkeys ahead. This way, quickly!"

He leads us off the trail, ducking vines and massive leaves. The jungle swallows us deeper, curtained in primordial shadows. Our breaths and footsteps seem deafening amidst the buzzing song of insects.

Finally, we creep into a sun-dappled clearing. High above in the emerald canopy, a troop of lanky spider monkeys swing acrobatically from branch to branch. Their haunting cries pierce the heavy air as they tumble and play, unaware of their enthralled audience below.

Kat clasps my arm, gaze fixed overhead. "Extraordinary," she whispers reverently. In the dappled light, she looks every bit a jungle goddess herself.

Unable to resist, I brush my fingers along her jaw to tilt her face towards mine. Her lips part, eyes searching mine with sudden longing. This time, nothing is here to stop me from exploring whatever this is.

I lean in, my heart thundering like the wildness surrounding us.

"Kat..." Her name spills like a prayer from my lips as I lean in closer still, my intentions clear. Our guide has drifted ahead, leaving us sheltered in this hidden oasis. There will be no interruptions now.

Kat's fingers trail feather-light over my jaw, green eyes darkening like the rainforest depths. Just before our lips meet, she murmurs, "This isn't very professional." It’s weak–a half-hearted attempt at keeping things distant.

A low growl rumbles in my chest. "I've never been very good at professionalism."

With that, I capture her lips in a blistering kiss, pent-up longing spilling forth unrestrained. Kat melts against me instantly with a muffled moan, her fingers tangling in my hair. "Emrys..." She gasps my name when we finally break for air, lips kiss-swollen and cheeks endearingly flushed. Her sea-glass eyes smolder up at me, stirring the primal beast within.

I trail a calloused hand down her slender throat, voice gravelly with desire. "Tell me no."

She shivers, lips curving in a siren's smile. "I can’t.” The challenge is clear, her gaze dancing recklessly.

A rumble vibrates through me at her boldness.

I kiss her again, more fervently than before, unleashing all the untamed need I've kept leashed in her presence until now. Kathryn arches into me, meeting my fire with her own, grinding her hips into me as I press her against the rough bark of a tree. Her nails claw at my back, dragging my shirt up my torso, and I lean back enough to shirk it from my body completely.

Our movements are fervent and jerky as our lips meet again. My cock is rock solid, pulsing with anticipation as her core grinds against it, begging to be filled. Every inch of me is urging me to fulfill her unspoken demands.

Right as I move to the buttons of her shorts, a thunderous roar shatters the heavy air. We spring apart as an answering shriek follows, far too close for comfort.

Our guide comes crashing back towards us, face tight with urgency. "Mother jaguar nearby. We need to move. Now!"

The spell broken, we scramble to follow him through the tangled undergrowth, and I snatch up my shirt as I go. Branches lash at us as we run, my senses straining for any hint of pursuit. My heart hammers against my ribs, fear sinking its claws in.

Somewhere behind us, the jaguar roars again, enraged at our intrusion. Kat pales but doesn't falter, determination steeling her delicate features. She meets my gaze as we run, a hint of rueful humor lurking there. I'm reminded again of her resilient spirit, rising to meet any challenge.

"Seems we got more adventure than we bargained for," she pants, ducking a low-hanging vine. Despite the danger, her irrepressible daring attitude to life refuses to be dimmed. Even now, disheveled and flushed, she somehow manages to spark my interest.

I want to answer, to lighten her mood further, but my focus narrows to the trail ahead and the sound of terrifying roars behind. All thought is consumed by the need to get Kat to safety. I’d hate myself if my impulsive actions put her at risk.

We burst from the trees and back into blinding sunlight, chests heaving. Our guide scans the treeline warily as the staff rushes forward in concern and I throw my shirt back on. Relief leaves me lightheaded and I gather Kat close.

She ducks her head, cheeks endearingly pink as she avoids meeting my gaze, shyness overtaking her boldness. I tilt her chin up gently, unable to resist stealing one more searing kiss, uncaring of the many eyes around us that now bear witness. She melts beautifully against me, submitting to the moment.

When I pull away, her eyes remain closed a beat longer. I ache to rekindle the fire, but temper the urge. "No regrets?" I ask lightly, watching her closely.

Her lips curve, eyes dancing up at me warmly. "Not one." My relief is palpable.

I lace her delicate fingers through mine, bringing her hand to my lips. "Good. I don't think I’m quite done with you yet."

A teasing gleam enters her gaze. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

I meet her stare head-on, desire already stirring hotly once more. "Both."

Kat's eyes widen, turquoise depths darkening. She worries her lower lip between pearly teeth and I barely restrain the urge to kiss her senseless all over again.

Our moment in the sunlight was lost today. But the darkness won't hold us for long. This wildness between us cannot be tamed or denied. And soon, we will finish what we began in the shadows.

The staff fusses over us for far too long, checking us for injuries and profusely apologizing. Kathryn insists they shouldn't worry, she's not going to sue them or anything like that. She explains that those are just the risks you run when going on adventures out in nature. The jaguar was merely doing its job protecting its young.

The woman is far more forgiving than I am at this moment.

Not that I blame the jaguar one bit for defending its territory and cubs. No, I blame the incompetent staff for not researching the local wildlife breeding habits and patterns before offering unprotected excursions that intrude right into a nursing mother's domain. My anger burns at their carelessness that could have ended in tragedy.

I move to give the managers a piece of my mind, but Kat silences me with a sharp–somehow intimidating–glare that shuts me right up. If anyone could smother my roaring ire with just a look, it's her I guess. She smooths the whole incident over with grace and poise, reassuring the distraught staff that she doesn't hold them liable and knows such risks are part of exploring the unpredictable jungle. Then, she’s practically shoving me in the direction of the resort, probably trying to prevent me from interjecting.

After walking for a while, she finally breaks the silence. "Emrys?" Her voice interrupts my turbulent thoughts. "Can I ask...are you really a veterinarian? Or was that just part of your cover story?"

"I was," I reply after a weighted pause. "I worked as head veterinarian at a wildlife sanctuary and rescue. But it was recently bought out and...I lost my job."

Kat's brows furrow in concern and she comes to a stop, turning to face me fully. "That's awful, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

I sigh, the familiar ache of regret and guilt hitting me. "The sanctuary was struggling financially. My friend David, the owner, was doing everything he could to keep it afloat. But eventually a larger corporation approached him with an offer."

My hands clench at the memory. "David didn't want to sell, but he was out of options. He made me promise to look after our animals no matter what." I shake my head ruefully. "But the new owners cleaned house completely, brought in all new staff. It’s how I ended up with Book-A-Boyfriend. I needed to make ends meet until I found another job."

Kat reaches out and takes my hands in hers, expression open and sympathetic. "You must miss working there terribly. What was the place called?"

"Stevenson Sanctuary," I answer gruffly.

At my words, Kat stills, her face paling. I stare at her in confusion as something like dread flashes across her delicate features.

"Emrys," she begins haltingly. "The company that acquired Stevenson Sanctuary...that was my company, Sharpe Enterprises."

Shock robs me of speech as the implication of her words sinks in. After a strained silence, Kat steps back, turmoil swirling in her gaze. In that moment, the heat between us feels impossibly cold.

She looks up at me, turquoise eyes filled with distress. "Emrys, I am so sorry. I had no idea about the circumstances." She shakes her head, clearly grappling with this revelation.

For a moment, resentment threatens to choke me. My sanctuary, my animals, my purpose–all ripped away in one cold business deal. And by the woman who is somehow enticing in a way no one else has been before.

I turn away, jaw tight. Kat reaches for me hesitantly. "Please, let me try to make this right. I never wanted Stevenson's staff treated that way during the acquisition process. Things clearly got mishandled."

At the genuine remorse in her voice, my anger loses some of its bite. For some reason, I know that Kat is not cruel or careless. Her passion for animal welfare matches my own. If she had known, surely she would have handled things differently.

I let out a heavy sigh, the fight going out of me. "You couldn't have known. But losing that place, those animals...it gutted me." I finally meet her earnest gaze. "Especially the pack of Amur leopards. They were my charges and now..."

Understanding lights Kat's face. "The bonded pack of four from the cartel seizure," she breathes out. "They were yours."

I nod silently, surprised that she can even remember a specific group of animals among many. She steps closer again, tentatively touching my arm. "Let me look into what happened during the acquisition. I can get you access to see them, so you can make sure they're properly cared for."

The offer takes me aback. I search her face, seeing nothing but sincerity gazing back at me. "You would do that?" I rasp in disbelief.

Kat smiles then, a glimpse of her resilient spirit returning. "Of course. Consider it a thank you for..." She blushes fetching pink. "Well, for today's adventure."

Despite the heavy emotions, I feel an answering smile tug at me. This fascinating woman continues to surprise me at every turn. Impulsively, I pull her into my arms, relief washing over me. "You are full of surprises, Kitten."

She beams up at me, brighter than the tropical sunshine, and something seems to shift in my chest at the sight.

Chapter 19

The sticky tropical air does nothing to ease the simmering irritation burning through me as I wait with Wyatt-the-stick-in-the-mud for Kat and tall-dark-and-brooding to get back from their little jungle tryst.

What was Kat thinking, running off alone into the wilderness with that overgrown brute? Sure, I may not be able to name every exotic plant and animal like Emrys probably can in that rumbling baritone of his. But I know how to show a woman a good time.

My foot taps restlessly on the patio stones as I sneak a glance at Wyatt. Mr. Perfect Posture is sitting there calmly sipping an iced tea like he hasn't got a care in the world. Even with that ridiculous, stained and stiff chicken suit on which has been subject to not one, not two, but three pie strikes, and one random dump of chocolate pudding. He’s surprisingly taken it all in stride, maintaining an aloof unaffected air the entire time.

He sits there now completely at ease and relaxed, but I see the tightness around his eyes. He's just as jealous as I am about being left behind, he's just too polite to show it.

Well, time for this country boy to stir things up a bit.

"So tell me, compadre, what's your big plan for charming our little spitfire once Kat gets back?" I ask Wyatt with an easy grin, knowing it'll get under his polished skin.

Wyatt's eye twitches but he keeps his tone civilized. "Don’t presume to know me."

I have to laugh out loud at that, because he bothers me for some reason. Irks me in a way I’m not used to, and it’s pissing me off. "Now we both know that ain't true. You’re dull. A woman like Kat–she needs a man who's willing to break the rules, walk on the wild side with her, and show her a good time between the sheets. And I sure don't see you fitting the bill there, slick."

At that, Wyatt finally abandons his gentlemanly mannerisms. He levels me with a thunderous look. “Oh, and what she needs is an insolent flirt who has absolutely no self-control or sense of decorum?”

Oh I've struck a nerve now. I lean back and fix Wyatt with my most cocky grin, even if it is all for show. The asshole just makes me feel like…like I have to try harder. Like I have to actually try and measure up to him.

Shit.

"No need to get your starched boxers in a twist, amigo. I'm just making conversation here. Unless you're afraid she really would prefer someone more exciting?"

Normally I’m not such a dick. What is it about him?

Wyatt opens his mouth for what's sure to be a scathing retort when voices nearby announce Kat and Emrys' return. In an instant, Wyatt is composed once more, while irritation still burns through me.

Fine, let Wyatt play it cool. But I'm through sitting around watching from the sidelines. Time to turn on the charm and remind our sassy leading lady who really lights her fire. Kat won't know what hit her once this cowboy turns up the heat.

"There you two are!" I exclaim loudly as Kat and Emrys approach arm in arm. "How was trompin’ around out there in the untamed wilderness?"

Kat's cheeks pink up. Interesting. Something happened out there between those trees. But Kat quickly shrugs it off. "It was an adventure for sure."

Her eyes sparkle with that reckless light I find so irresistible. Damn it all. I swallow down bitterness and plaster on a grin. No use showing my cards yet.

"Well you'll have to tell us all about it!" I drawl, guiding Kat over to the bar. "But first...I believe I need to buy you a drink. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do."

Kat laughs, the sound easing some of the knots in my chest. "I suppose it is."

Her hand fits so easily in mine as we walk, soft and delicate yet with hidden strength. I sneak a subtle whiff of her warm, vanilla scent mingling with the earthier aroma of the rainforest still clinging to her sun-kissed skin and hair.

Desire coils hot and urgent inside me. I've never ached for a woman the way I do for this maddening, captivating creature. And I don't care how many silent Neanderthals or dapper gents try to stand in my way. She's meant to be mine and I play to win.

At the bar, I flag down the bartender with a raised hand. "A rum punch for my darlin'." I give Kat a playful nudge as she rolls her eyes at me knowingly. God, she's cute when she's exasperated.

I wait until she's sipping her fruity cocktail, lips wrapping temptingly around that tiny straw, before I make my move. Leaning in close, I brush back a silky lock of hair that's fallen into her face.

"Now how's about you and me get out of here?" I murmur low in her ear. "You still owe me a rematch for our beach volleyball defeat yesterday."

Kat inhales sharply at my proximity, her heartbeat visibly fluttering at the base of her elegant neck. But she doesn't pull away.

"Trying to get me alone, Cowboy?" She retorts, but her eyes spark playfully.

"Maybe I am." I feather my fingers down her arm, unable to resist touching her. "A little one-on-one could be fun..."

Kat worries that plump lower lip between her teeth, and as much as I want to toss her over my shoulder and carry her off like a caveman, Kathryn Sharpe bows to no man. So I bide my time and let that reckless light in her eyes make the decision. And when her lips part to answer me, my heart kicks into a gallop.

“Kitty-Kat! There you are!” Her dad’s voice booms across the room before she can answer and I grind my molars at another interruption.

Not that I hold it against the man. He’s a good dude–dad–whatever. I can see how much he means to Kat. And this is a family trip after all.

“Dad?” She turns in her seat, a frown tugging at her lips. I catch sight of both Emry and Wyatt grinning at my thwarted attempt and suddenly I’m thinking a lot more violently than I have in a long while. Now I’m feeling real thankful that Roger is here, otherwise there might be a full blown brawl happenin’.

“Did you forget what tonight is?” Roger pulls Kat into a quick bear-hug that has her giggling before placing her back on her stool.

“Apparently so.”

He gasps exaggeratedly and takes on the appearance of being wounded. “It’s board game night in Annabelle’s penthouse. Food, fun, and fruity cocktails for the ladies. How could you hurt me like this?”

“Oh stop, old man. I doubt without Mom reminding you every five minutes you’d remember either.” She shoves him playfully and he grins before turning to us guys.

“So how about it, boys? You down to get demolished at some Monopoly?”

“Ain't nothing quite like a rousing round of board games to liven things up. And free booze? Even this country boy knows that's a prime deal.” I flash him a devious smile and he chuckles.

“Sounds like my girl knows how to pick them. See you all up there in, oh, about ten minutes. Don’t think your mom won’t be down here dragging you up by your ears if not.” He levels a playful, warning glare at Kat before turning and walking away, whistling a lively tune as he goes.

I turn and fix Kat with my most roguish grin. "You ready to watch me dominate Monopoly, darlin? I've got a get-out-of-jail-free card with your name on it."

Kat's eyes narrow dangerously, but her lips quirk like she's fighting back a smile. "In your dreams, Cowboy. I'm the Queen of Boardwalk and Park Place."

"We'll see about that." I give her my best exaggerated leer just to rile her up more. That hot-blooded passion simmering under Kat's polished exterior never fails to rev my engine. Only one way to unlock the fire beneath that icy exterior. And I do so love a challenge.

My fun gets cut short by the ever-so-serious Wyatt chiming in. "Yes, well I look forward to a friendly game between comrades."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes into the back of my skull. Does this stick-in-the-mud ever lighten up? You'd think with that chicken get-up on, he'd have learned how to have some damn fun. But oh no, Mr. Propriety can't crack a grin to save his life. I'm half convinced the man doesn't even have a personality beneath that polished armor.

Meanwhile Emrys just stands there like a damn statue, grunting occasionally. Real talkers we got here. Might have to get some liquid courage in these boys if we're gonna liven things up tonight.

But I got my eye on the real prize. Kat sashays off with a teasing glance over her shoulder that revs my engine something fierce. When she wants to, that minx can out-flirt a Dixie peach at the summer fair. And I'm just the man to stoke that fiery passion in her soul. Playing pretend was all well and fine for a spell, but now it's time for Kat to learn first-hand exactly why they call me the Wildman back home.

And I have a feeling she's gonna relish every minute.

I grin and stroll after Kat, preparing to turn on every bit of Southern charm in my arsenal as we make our way up to Annabelle's fancy honeymoon suite. Soon as I step inside, I let out an impressed whistle. "Hot diggity damn, now that's what I call digs." This place is swankier than the governor's mansion, I'd wager.

It’s even fancier than Kat’s suite. Probably because Annabelle and Ethan are the main event of the trip and all. A man could get used to living the high life. Maybe I picked the wrong career path being a surgeon.

Kat shakes her head at me, lips quirking. "Don't get too comfortable, Cowboy. The way my family hustles, you'll be homeless by the time we’re done."

"Ouch, them's fightin' words," I retort with a grin. "Just for that, when I own this board, I'm doubling the rent on Park Place."

Kat narrows her eyes dangerously. "You're going down."

A tingle runs through me at the promise in her stare. "Promises, promises," I shoot back recklessly.

Before Kat can fire off a retort, her sister comes bounding over clutching a box of Uno cards.

"Uno first to warm up while the snacks get here!" Annabelle trills with manic glee. Clearly someone's already gotten into the fruity cocktails. This ought to liven things up nicely.

"C’mon, Kat!" Annabelle loops her arm through Kat's and steers her to the table before anyone can object. But that's fine, it gives me a prime view of Kat's distracting curves in those sexy little shorts of hers.

"No fancy maneuvers this time," Annabelle warns her sister sternly before handing Kat a large glass of what I’m sure she’s already been indulging in.

Kat widens her eyes innocently. "I have no idea what you mean." But that wicked gleam gives her away. My reckless hellion's got some tricks up her sleeve for sure. Tonight's gonna be a hoot.

As we take our seats around the fancy coffee table, I make sure to snag the spot right next to Kat. Our knees bump, sending a little spark skittering through me. I settle in and kick my feet up on the coffee table, getting comfy as I lean into Kat as much as I can. "Deal me in, ladies. Let's see what you got."

Wyatt settles on her other side, looking way too stiff for a card game. Doesn't that man ever relax and have fun? Though I notice his gaze drifting to Kat more than his cards, and their thighs pressed together as well. Interesting. Maybe there's some red blood beneath that starched collar after all.

Meanwhile Emrys grunts something unintelligible and slumps down across from us, already looking bored. Looks like I’m getting roped into a rousing game of Uno with my favorite leading lady...and a couple of wet blankets. Real lively bunch we got here. At least I know Kat will give me a run for my money, and when Kat shoots me that teasing glance from beneath those long lashes, I have to grip my cards tight to keep from pulling her onto my lap right then and there.

As Annabelle starts rambling through the convoluted rules, I try tuning her out and focus on the real draw–sitting pretty as a peach right next to me. Kat catches me staring and arches a delicate brow.

"The cards are down on the table, Cowboy," she teases under her breath.

I grin slowly. "Apologies ma'am, just appreciating the view." Kat rolls her eyes but I catch the hint of pink gracing her cheeks. Oh yeah, I definitely make her pulse race more than these other stiffs.

Annabelle finally lays down the first card and the game's afoot. Kat and I quickly fall into a rhythm, trading quips and trash talk as we battle Annabelle and Ethan's crazy Uno antics. Each time Kat's knee bumps mine or her fingers graze my arm, that electric hum between us keeps growing. And from the way Wyatt and Emrys keep sneaking glances my way, they've noticed the sparks flying too. Let 'em look on jealously–Kat knows who really gets her motor running.

When I slap down a wicked draw four on her sister, I let out a whoop that has her giggling. The sound like music to my ears. "Take that, sister dearest!" She starts the shit talk for me.

Annabelle turns red but laughs it off. "Just you wait, Kitty Kat. I'll get you guys back!"

I let out a dramatic sigh. "Y’all are vicious. Remind me not to cross you ladies.”

Kat bumps my shoulder playfully, sending a pleasant tingle through me. "All's fair in cards and war."

Her eyes sparkle mischievously and I find myself leaning in without thinking. “Maybe I should let you win, just to stay on your good side.”

Kat worries that plump bottom lip between her teeth, sending all my blood rushing straight down south. Get it together, man.

A polite cough interrupts our moment and we all look up to see Kat’s mom and dad entering the suite laden with plates, containers and platters of food galore. I immediately hop up to help lay it all out on the table, and when I return to my seat at the coffee table, Kat gazes at me with a softness in her eyes, making my ears burn hot.

As smitten with me as she seems to be, Kat does not pull any punches during the next few rounds, pulling off combos and evading draws like a pro. I love it.

Each time she whoops triumphantly or nudges me conspiratorially, it just ramps up the energy sparking between us. And judging by the way Wyatt's jaw keeps clenching and Emrys' grunts get grumpier, they sense her warming up to me too.

Man alive, I can't remember the last time I had this much fun playing some silly card game. But going toe to toe with this quick-witted, captivating woman has me grinning like a fool. Yep, Kat Sharpe is really something else. And win or lose, as long as I get to stay by this brilliant firecracker's side, I'll be riding high.

As the drinks and snacks keep flowing, everyone starts loosening up. Even Wyatt cracks a reluctant smile now and then, and Emrys almost looks happy after polishing off his third fancy beer. The upbeat music and lively company make it impossible to stay uptight for long.

Eventually, Kat’s mom and dad bow out claiming something about being old and tired and they quickly leave the suite, though we all let out disgusted gags and groans when they can’t even wait for the elevator doors to fully close before they’re drawn together like magnets.

It’s…warming to see the obvious love they have, but–shiver–I don’t want to see their love.

Soon, Kat discards her shoes and curls up on the sofa next to me, all casual and cozy. I have to resist wrapping an arm around her and nuzzling into that sweet-smelling hair. Wait. Why am I resisting?

I let my urges take the reins and do exactly that. Kat is a bit stiff at first, her eyes surreptitiously glancing around at the other two guys, but then she relaxes.

When Annabelle stumbles to her feet, giggling and rosy cheeked, I know the real fun's about to start. "Time for...drinking Uno!" She announces loudly. Ethan just chuckles and shakes his head with a fond smile. These two are just too damn cute. Nauseating, but cute.

Annabelle explains the rules while swaying slightly. "So like, if you get skipped, you drink. Draw two, drink two. Draw four, four drinks!" She emphasizes each point by nearly smacking me in the face, not that I mind. Kat has to stifle her giggles, especially when Annabelle ends up spinning in a circle and landing right in Ethan's lap at the end of her speech.

"I think you've started celebrating a little early, sweetheart," Ethan teases, steadying his bride-to-be.

Annabelle just smacks a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek in response. "You're just sc- scared I'll kick your butt at drunk Uno!" She slurs out boldly.

Well that's all the motivation I need. I grab my whiskey and guzzle a hearty mouthful, then slam my glass down in challenge. "Let's do this!"

Kat shakes her head at my antics but takes a sip of her fruity cocktail just the same. A happy buzz thrums through me and judging by the way she leans in closer, that electric draw between me and this gorgeous gal is only getting stronger.

As the game gets rowdier, Kat ends up on my lap more than once and each time it takes every ounce of gentlemanly restraint not to cop a feel of that luscious backside. Emrys ends up chugging an entire beer in one go after a particularly brutal draw four combo, and even Wyatt loosens up enough to get in on the spirit of the game.

As Kat takes her next turn, being hit with a draw two by Wyatt, I let out a low whistle. "Bottoms up, darlin'."

Kat shakes her head at me playfully but reaches for her fruity cocktail without hesitation. I watch the delicate line of her throat as she swallows, desire stirring hotly. She's loosening up by the minute, laughing more freely and leaning into my casual touches. I can almost see the exact moment her sharp mind stops overthinking and she gives herself permission to just feel.

When she grins at me, relaxed and glowing beneath the low lights, something warm unfurls inside my chest. I'm seeing glimpses of the real Kat beneath the polish. And I want more.

As the game continues, Kat ends up perched comfortably in my lap, my arms wrapped loosely around her hips. The warm, vanilla scent of her hair envelops me, wreaking havoc on my composure. I have to shift subtly to hide the effect her nearness has on me.

Emrys tosses back another beer, watching us broodingly. But Kat seems beyond noticing the charged dynamic tonight.

When her next turn ends up being a draw four for Wyatt, Kat cackles gleefully. "Bottoms up, chicken boy!"

We all cheer Wyatt on as he swallows four gulps of whiskey in quick succession, Adam's apple bobbing. He grimaces at the burn but meets Kat's shining eyes steadily, his hand splaying over one of her thighs. "Well played," he acknowledges.

"Why thank you kind sir," Kat shoots back airly, her leg instinctively pressing further into his touch. I take the opportunity to lean into her further, and Wyatt shifts in his seat, jaw tightening as he watches me nuzzle against Kat's delicate neck. I meet his stare evenly over Kat's shoulder, a silent challenge in my eyes.

Annabelle reverses the direction of the game and Ethan flicks down a card–which turns out to be a draw two–and Emrys grunts and reaches for his beer without hesitation. As he takes a long pull, Kat's gaze follows the flex of his tattooed forearms appreciatively.

As Wyatt takes his next turn, Kat bites her lip, gaze fixed on his dexterous hands. When he catches her staring, one corner of his mouth quirks up subtly. I trail my fingertips up Kat's thigh, just barely grazing the inside seam of her shorts. Her breath hitches audibly and she suppresses a visible shiver, eyes stormy.

There you go. The focus is back on me.

As the game continues Kat remains distracted between my touch and Wyatts, and Emrys takes the seat on my left, inching closer and closer, until we’re packed close together. When he reaches out to trail a calloused finger down her knee, I’m hard pressed to bite back a territorial growl. But Kat arches subtly into his touch, gripping my thigh for balance. Which just so happens to grind her ass directly over the hardness I’ve been trying my best to hide from her, and all frustration flees as I bite back the groan that wants to surface.

The woman is an enchantress, drawing us all helplessly into her orbit.

Kat’s breaths come faster, cheeks flushing ever more pink between sips of her fruity cocktail. Her lovely eyes can’t seem to settle on any of us for long before being distracted again. Though she tries to tamp it down, each time hands brush her body, a visible shiver of desire runs through her.

It doesn’t take long before Annabelle and Ethan are also making eyes at each other, their touches lingering and straying just a little too far, and Kat finally has enough. “Alright, that’s it. We better go before all three of you have a case of PTSD from being around them when they get like this.” She hooks a thumb at her giggling sister and soon to be brother in law, and shoots to her feet.

“But, Kiiiiity! What about Monopoly?” Annabelle pulls away from Ethan just enough to whine at Kat, but then she’s right back to nuzzling in his neck like she said nothing at all.

“Next time, hornball.” Kat salutes Ethan, since he seems to be the only one watching our retreat as we pile into the elevator together.

With the suite doors sliding shut, the energy shifts palpably between us four. Kat smooths non-existent wrinkles from her shirt, cheeks still endearingly flushed. "Well, that was...fun," she says a bit breathlessly into the charged silence.

"Oh, the night's just getting started, darlin'," I murmur low in her ear as the elevator descends. Her breath hitches, and she pointedly avoids meeting any of our heated gazes.

The confined space forces us to press close together. I slide my palm along Kat's lower back, stepping into her frame from behind and relishing her subtle shiver. On her other side, Wyatt's arm brushes hers temptingly. Meanwhile Emrys cages her in on her other side, his massive frame dominating the small area.

Kat worries that plump bottom lip between her teeth, seemingly torn. I can't blame her for hesitating–after all, it’s not every day a woman has three men vying for her attention all at once. I ache to pull that lip between my own teeth, to swallow those breathy little sounds I just know she'll make. Judging by the unrestrained hunger in Wyatt's and Emrys' eyes, they're picturing the same thing.

The elevator dings our arrival at the ground floor and as we step out and make our way to the separate elevator that will take us up to our private tower suite, the air is charged with simmering anticipation.

This is so much better than playing pretend.

As the elevator rises, I catch Wyatt's gaze on her too. He's usually so restrained, but even Mr. Prim and Proper can't disguise his hunger now. And Emrys, the silent brute–looks like he’s ready to devour our girl whole.

Part of me burns at the thought of them having a piece of the woman I’ve fixed my eye on. But another part–the part that lives for adventure–is intrigued by the possibilities.

And I’m always down for a little fun.

Her eyes meet mine, a question swirling in their turquoise depths. My own dare her to take the leap, to stop overthinking and just feel. Let the recklessness in her soul run free, if only for tonight.

The elevator dings our arrival.

The only rule now is no rules at all.

Chapter 20

My gaze lingers on Kathryn as we step into the elevator, desire and trepidation warring within me. Her cheeks are still endearingly flushed from the cozy game night, turquoise eyes glinting with warmth and humor. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen before, her edges softened by fruity cocktails and fun. I yearn to pull her into my arms, to run my hands along all those tempting curves barely hidden beneath tiny shorts and flimsy fabric.

My usual restraint threatens to unravel completely in her presence.

It would be a lie to claim her obvious attraction simmering between the other two doesn't raise my hackles. The thought of anyone else touching her is...unpleasant, to put it mildly.

Which is a struggle to admit to even myself.

Yet…she’s so tempting.

The elevator doors slide open and the possibilities stretch out before us. I catch Wilder's gaze, seeing the dare in it. Emrys shifts closer to Kathryn and her eyes meet mine, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to…loosen my collar for a night. To let my ever-present restraint have a night off.

Chapter 21

The air is stifling, ripe with unspoken longing and temptation as we linger in the elevator. My heart pounds erratically, body taut as a bowstring. I'm paralyzed, torn between claiming Kathryn for my own, or embracing the dangerous possibilities unfurling before us.

Part of me rebels violently at the notion of anyone else laying hands on her. When I see the desire in Wyatt's stormy eyes, the unconcealed wanting, my fingers itch to wrap around his throat. And Wilder, with his effortless charm and casual touches, he ignites something far more primal and terrifying within me.

I want to rage and snarl like an animal.

But even through the haze of possessive desperation and clawing need, I see the potential shining tantalizingly before us. I meet Wyatt's conflicted but intrigued stare, understanding passing wordlessly between us. Wilder's blue eyes gleam recklessly, inviting me to shed restraint and propriety and revel in the possibilities.

When Kat turns to me, cheeks endearingly flushed, something finally unravels inside me.

Shit. Am I really about to do this?

Chapter 22

My heart pounds erratically as we linger frozen in the elevator, the air thick with temptation. It's like the temperature has risen to an unbearable degree, yet goosebumps prickle over my skin, my body confused by the warring signals.

I can't tear my gaze away from Wyatt's stormy eyes, dark with unrestrained hunger as he looks at me. The unspoken longing passing between us steals my breath, making my chest constrict almost painfully. I ache to close the distance between us, to melt against his sturdy frame and feel those strong hands caressing my curves that his heated stare traces so unabashedly.

What would that polished restraint of his feel like shattered in the throes of passion? Could I unravel his composure completely? Curiosity wars with fear within me as I picture his powerful body claiming mine.

Even Wilder gazes at me now with new intensity, his usual cocky grin replaced by raw, magnetic need that he makes no effort to disguise. I shiver under his penetrating stare, my cheeks flushed. His casual flirtations and playful winks have shifted into something far more dangerous, something that makes my blood run hotter than the tropical sunshine outside.

And Emrys...beneath his silent brooding lurks such simmering possessiveness and desire, it makes me tremble. I still feel the heated echo of his lips claiming mine fervently in the rainforest, wiping all rational thought from my mind. The way his hard body pressed against me so insistently–so possessively–still invades my most feverish thoughts. I crave to unleash that primal intensity once more.

What’s happening to me?

This whole fake boyfriend arrangement was only supposed to be a temporary scheme to appease my family. Yet now, gazing at these three tempting men, my body flushed and aching in a way I've never experienced before, I'm torn between the fear of what-if, and seizing the exhilarating possibilities before me. Possibilities that tempt me to abandon all reason. To feed this ravenous hunger inside.

I can't deny that being around them has awakened something in me.

Wyatt's refined admiration makes me feel treasured, seen not just for my outward confidence but the vulnerability beneath. Wilder's playful charm brings out a reckless abandon I usually keep locked away, letting me escape my anxieties and embrace the excitement of the moment. And Emrys' burning intensity doesn't frighten me like it should...instead, it ignites an answering inferno inside me, raging out of control.

I know each of them stirs something unique within me, speaks to different pieces of my fractured heart. Perhaps it's time I stop overthinking and just feel as Wilder's daring eyes seem to implore me to do.

But is giving in to this dangerous thrill wise? Or am I playing with fire that’s certain to burn me once the fantasy ends?

My heart and body scream to throw caution to the wind and revel in the passions these fascinating men stir within me. But my mind urges restraint, reminding me of past heartbreaks when I surrendered too hastily to charming smiles and sweet words.

As the possibilities stretch out endless and exhilarating before me, I teeter on the edge of a precipice from which there will be no return. Do I resist this magnetic pull between us and preserve my heart? Or do I embrace the fall and dare to feed the flickering flame of hope stirring treacherously inside me?

I take a deep breath and meet Wyatt's stormy gaze again, seeing his own conflict mirrored there. Before I can think better of it, I reach for his hand, interlacing our fingers only to feel his answering squeeze. No more overthinking, I tell myself. Tonight, I choose possibility over fear.

When Wyatt's lips meet mine, the rest of the world falls away. I yield to the moment, to the chemistry that's been simmering between us from the start. The kiss begins tentatively, both of us hyper aware of being on the edge of a precipice from which there will be no turning back.

But then desire takes over, our mouths meeting again and again, each time with greater urgency. My fingers tangle in his dark hair as his strong hands span my hips. Pulling me up and into his arms, I wrap my legs around his hips. All thought of propriety is gone, replaced only by an aching need for more. I have never felt more alive than in this moment.

For once, I decide to silence the bullshit in my head and just go for it.

Wyatt's kiss leaves me dizzy, my body burning as he presses me up against the wall the second we cross the threshold into our suite. His usual restraint has snapped, giving way to pure, unrestrained desire as his hands skim down my sides to grip my hips tightly.

"If we’re doing this, I'm in charge here, understand?" His words are clipped, edged with a command, even through the ragged breaths falling from his lips. I manage a shaky nod, arousal coiling hotly at his more dominant side. He takes a moment to glance from Emrys to Wilder, both surprisingly acquiescing to his demand with short nods, though their eyes don’t leave me.

Carrying me to my room, Wyatt tosses me to the edge of the bed and regards me like a predator stalking his prey. His stormy eyes blaze with hunger as he steps forward and trails the backs of his hands slowly up my torso. “You’re on birth control, correct?” I nod silently and he grins.

"Off," he commands, fingering the hem of my t-shirt. I obey instantly, pulling it over my head and letting it fall to the floor. When he eyes the lacy black bra for too long, I snap to remove that too. Wyatt makes an approving sound low in his throat as his gaze roams over my newly exposed skin. My nipples pebble under the intensity of his stare.

I flush under the intensity of his stare as he finally begins to remove the absurd chicken suit and exposes inch after inch of tantalizing skin. He looks at me like a man who's been starved for far too long. And I know I probably look exactly the same.

In a flash, he pushes me back onto the plush blankets, the hard lines of his body bracketing mine. Our bare chests press together as Wyatt claims my lips fiercely. I yield instantly to his fervent, dominating movements, trembling with desire. His tongue tangles with mine skillfully, stoking the raging fire inside me and pulling a needy moan from my throat.

Somewhere in the haze of pleasure, I become aware of Emrys and Wilder undressing nearby as their burning stares graze my skin eagerly. The thought of being utterly at their mercy, consumed by three sets of hands and mouths worshiping every inch of me, makes me dizzy with anticipation.

When I feel a second set of hands trailing teasingly up my thighs, I instinctively spread my legs wider in invitation. Wilder chuckles low in my ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps across my feverish skin.

"Plenty to go around, darlin'," he rasps before palming my breasts firmly. I cry out as he rolls my nipples to tight, aching peaks. The sensation borders on too much, too intense, but I crave more. I want to drown in this wild passion.

As Emrys grips my knees, parting them farther, I clutch Wyatt's shoulders, overcome by sensation. Emrys begins kissing up my inner thighs, higher and higher, as Wyatt continues pillaging my mouth thoroughly. I'm overwhelmed by these powerful men and the pleasure they're coaxing from my willing body.

When Wyatt finally draws back, I'm breathless and trembling. But the fire in his stormy eyes promises this is only the beginning. "On your knees," Wyatt commands, his stormy eyes brooking no argument. The roughness of his tone sends a bolt of heat through me as I hasten to obey.

Once I'm positioned on all fours atop the luxurious blankets, Wyatt trails his hands down the arch of my spine, eliciting a shiver.

"Emrys, taste her," he directs with a silken command.

Emrys' eyes flash but he complies without hesitation, laying back on the bed and jerking me to a sitting position over his face. His calloused hands grip my hips tightly as his hot tongue makes one long swipe through my slick folds. I cry out raggedly at the bolt of sensation, fingers tangling in the sheets as I catch myself before falling forward completely.

Spurred on by my reaction, Emrys begins working me into a frenzy, alternating between broad strokes and strategic flicks of his tongue. My arms tremble violently, struggling to support myself against the onslaught.

"That's it, make her scream for you," Wyatt orders from behind me. I can hear the grin in his voice, knowing he's savoring this complete control over me and the others. And impossibly, it only served to ratchet up my arousal higher.

Sensing how close I am to unraveling completely, Wyatt grips my hair and wrenches my head back. "Not yet, pet. You don't get to finish until I allow it."

I whine in frustration but Wyatt just chuckles darkly. "Patience. I want you desperate and begging first."

Releasing me, he turns his attention to Wilder who's been watching hungrily, desire etched plainly across his rugged features.

"Take her mouth," Wyatt directs.

Wilder just grins, beyond caring about pride or posturing. "Anything you say, boss."

Kneeling before me, Wilder guides my parted lips over him. I take him in greedily, muffling my whimpers of pleasure on his thick length as Emrys continues his sensual torment below.

Consumed by Wyatt's commanding presence and the attention of Emrys and Wilder under his direction, I'm utterly lost in sensations. Moans spill from my lips around Wilder's thickness as Emrys' tongue delivers me to the precipice over and over, only to deny me the plunge each time.

"Enough." Wyatt's sharp command cuts through the haze of lust. He fists my hair again, pulling me off Wilder who groans at the loss of my mouth. I pant harshly, trembling, as Emrys teases my cunt with a soft press of his lips.

"Emrys. Take her from behind.”

Emrys doesn't hesitate. Sliding out from underneath me, he lifts my hips up and pushes my chest into the bed, leaving me entirely at his mercy. With a guttural groan he drives into me, hard and deep. The thick intrusion is a shock, my inner walls stretching deliciously and painfully to accommodate him. A ragged scream tears from my throat as he practically claims me, withdrawing only for a split second before driving back in even harder, demanding my body to accept him fully.

The burn mingles with dark pleasure, every nerve hyper aware of being taken so roughly. I'm pinned by the merciless, primal domination of his cock impaling me. My fingers claw the sheets mindlessly, my senses overwhelmed by the feeling of him plunging deeper still, until he fills me completely. As my body is challenged to submit to the brutal ecstasy of his unrelenting possession, all I can do is take the pounding force of his hunger.

"Wilder, below her. I want to watch you savor her sweet cunt."

Wilder's eyes gleam wickedly. "With pleasure." Spreading my thighs open wider, Wilder moves himself until he’s beneath me. His hot mouth covers me once more, his clever tongue working in tandem with Emrys' increasingly punishing pace.

My eyes roll back at the dual sensations. I'm suspended on the edge, writhing mindlessly, when Wyatt's stern voice cuts through the pleasurable haze.

"Don't you dare come without my permission."

His words send me spiraling impossibly higher. Wyatt moves closer, grasping my hair once more to seal his mouth over mine, swallowing my frenzied cries. When he finally pulls back, my eyes are glazed, breaths coming in desperate pants. Emrys continues his assault on my cunt, each thrust pushing me further and further into Wyatt’s embrace. Wilder follows the violent jerking effortlessly with his tongue, the flicks and suction almost effortless on his end.

“Please!” My plea comes out in a guttural scream, tears gathering in my eyes as I struggle to hold back my release at his command.

“Who do you belong to, pet?” His voice is low, dangerous even, his eyes glinting darkly as they gaze into mine. I cry out as Emrys adjusts his hips slightly. His cock hits impossible places inside me and I can’t hold back anymore.

“I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m all of yours.” I chant with each plunge of Emrys’ hips and each swipe of Wilder’s tongue. He grins, backing away slightly and gripping my hair painfully as he forces my head down, his cock pushing at my lips.

"Now come undone for us." At his growled command, my climax crashes over me violently at the same time that his hips jerk forward and his cock slams straight down my throat.

The pleasure becomes too much, my mind blanking. I'm distantly aware of Wyatt's length slamming deep in my throat, muffling my screams of ecstasy. Emrys groans harshly behind me, his powerful body tensing as he finds his own shattering release.

We remain suspended in bliss for endless moments until Emrys finally withdraws from my quivering body. I slump bonelessly, supported only by Wyatt's firm grip in my hair and Wilder holding my hips. Wyatt chuckles darkly, stroking his thumb over my swollen lips.

"You're not done yet, pet. I decide when you're finished."

His words spark renewed heat inside me, even as my limbs shake from exertion. There's no chance to recover before he commands, "Wilder, pull her onto you."

Wilder grins wickedly, gripping my hips to drag me down and position my slick heat over his throbbing length. I keen, oversensitive and overwhelmed as he notches at my entrance. The anticipation practically ruins me as he shoots me that delectable roguish grin. His darkened, hungry blue eyes practically radiating hunger. Wyatt moves behind me, gripping my neck tightly and pulling me into a sitting position as his teeth find my shoulder.

Just as he bites down violently, Wilder, with a sharp jerk, impales me onto him, wrenching a pleasured scream from my raw throat.

I'm helpless, pinned between Wilder's pounding thrusts from below, and Wyatt's commanding presence from behind as he twists my nipples and barrages my skin with nips and licks. Wilder's fingers dig punishingly into my hips as he uses my body relentlessly. My limbs tremble, unable to bear my own weight.

Wilder is…wild with his thrusts. Urgent, reckless, and chaotic as he uses me. I’m useless, but he doesn’t seem to care. His face contorting in pleasure and ecstasy.

His reactions only drive me higher and higher as Wyatt tightens his hold on my neck, cutting off more and more of my air supply, my body unable to do anything but submit to their desires.

Just when I think I can't take another second, Wyatt rasps, "Come for us again, pet."

His unyielding demand hurls me over the edge once more, causing my vision to white out as Wilder continues his frenzied pace. Wyatt swallows my broken screams with a forceful kiss as I clench painfully around Wilder's punishing cock, the stimulation almost too much to bear.

Only when I'm fully spent does Wilder finally find his own shattering release, groaning harshly as he spills deep inside me. Wyatt releases his hold on my neck and I slump forward, boneless, gasping for breath as my entire body shakes with the aftermath of oblivion. Wyatt threads his fingers almost gently through my hair before pressing one soft kiss to the sensitive skin below my ear.

“My turn,” he growls, raw dominance and promise etched into every syllable.

Wyatt snatches me from Wilder’s embrace before flipping me onto my back. He braces his powerful arms on either side of me, caging me beneath the hard planes of his muscular body. His stormy eyes are dark with unrestrained hunger as he looks down at my prone form laid out before him.

"You're mine now, Kathryn," he growls, voice gravelly with desire.

Before I can respond, he captures my swollen lips in a blistering kiss that steals my breath. I yield utterly to the skilled command of his mouth, my fingers digging into the flexing muscles of his broad back. Wyatt kisses me ravenously, aggressively tangling his tongue with mine as he asserts his dominance.

When he finally pulls back, I'm panting and drunk on his taste. Lips kiss-swollen and tender, my body is flooded with raging need, my core aching to be filled and claimed once more.

"Please..." I whisper hoarsely, barely recognizing my own voice.

A purely male sound of satisfaction rumbles from Wyatt's chest at my breathless plea. Gripping my thighs tightly, he hitches them high around his narrow hips, splaying me open so I'm completely exposed to him. I flush under the carnal hunger in his penetrating stare.

Wyatt trails his fingertips up my sensitive inner thighs, spreading me wider for him as he takes in my arousal and slick covered flesh. There’s no judgment or disgust on his face at the evidence that Wilder and Emrys were there before him. Only hunger, and male satisfaction. I shudder and lift my hips desperately, silently begging him to end the exquisite torture.

With a wicked grin, he teases the broad head of his thick cock through my soaked folds, coating himself. My eyes nearly roll back at the tantalizing sensation. I'm trembling on the cusp, ready to combust from the slightest stimulation.

Finally, Wyatt braces himself over me, those stormy eyes boring into mine. "Look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes when I take your pussy as mine."

His crude command sends a bolt of heat straight to my core. I obey instantly, holding his smoldering gaze as he begins to push inexorably inside, stretching and filling me inch by glorious inch. We both groan raggedly, the intimate eye contact magnifying every overwhelming sensation as our bodies join.

Once fully sheathed to the hilt inside my tight heat, Wyatt gives me no chance to adjust to his obvious girth. Instead, he sets a relentless, driving tempo that has me writhing helplessly beneath his powerful frame.

I clutch his broad shoulders tightly as he thrusts his cock into me again and again, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot inside me that makes my vision go white. The obscene sound of slick flesh meeting fills the air, mingling with my loud cries of ecstasy.

"You take my cock so well," Wyatt grits out between harsh breaths, pace not faltering. His stormy eyes blaze down at me possessively. "This pussy was made for us. You were made for us."

His dirty praise pushes me closer to the edge. I'm utterly consumed by the feeling of him pounding into my willing body. My fingers claw red lines down his muscular back, urging him on as the pleasure builds and builds.

“Just look at you. Our greedy little pet. You just want more.” He punctuates his words with a sharp snap of his hips that has me crying out.

“And more,” he growls as he hits me with another brutal thrust that steals my breath.

Too consumed by the overwhelming sensations he’s coaxing from my body, I can only clutch him mindlessly.

“And more!” Wyatt pounds into me with unrestrained force, my body jerking violently with the impact as I let out a shattered scream.

“Come, pet. Let the world hear who you belong to!”

His growled command shoves me over the edge into oblivion. My inner walls clamp down viciously around Wyatt's pistoning length as ecstasy crashes through me. I keen his name, the sound ragged and primal.

“Good girl!” He growls out, and the sensation of me clenching rhythmically around him proves too much. His hips stutter and lose their punishing tempo, and he slams into my spasming core one final time before spilling himself deep inside my quivering walls with a guttural groan.

As we come down from the high, I’m vaguely aware of movement in the room before Wyatt rolls off of me. I hiss at the loss of contact, but Wilder is immediately there with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping away the evidence of them all from between my legs. Emrys lifts me into his strong arms, cradling me to his broad chest as he carries me to the center of the massive, pillow-soft bed.

Settling us down, Emrys curls his solid warmth around my back as Wyatt lays in front of me. Wilder drapes a blanket over our entwined forms before sliding underneath to join us, settling around my legs and stroking my calf. A warm sensation simmers in my gut as I glance around at them all tangled in a heap of warm skin and muscles.

Wyatt catches my eye before smiling softly. “You were perfect, Kathryn.” He presses a gentle kiss to my lips, catching me off guard, and somehow warming a space within me that I didn’t even know had gone cold.

My last hazy thought is that, after tonight, I will never be the same. And for once, the notion thrills rather than terrifies me...

Chapter 23

The early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains stirs me reluctantly from sleep. As awareness returns, so do the memories of last night–the passion, the ecstasy.

I shift beneath the silken sheets, my breath catching as I feel soft curves pressed against me. Kathryn. Her long dark hair spills over the pillowcases like ink, lips slightly parted as she sleeps nestled against my chest. She looks positively angelic, the usual sharpness of her features softened.

My arms tighten around her instinctively and she stirs, her sea-glass eyes blinking open sleepily. The events of last night come flooding back and a blush graces her cheeks. Before either of us can speak, her phone alarm chirps loudly. Fumbling to silence it, dismay crosses her delicate features.

"I have to get ready for a bridesmaid brunch," she groans before sliding gracefully from the bed. Casting a shy smile over her shoulder, she disappears into the opulent bathroom, the sound of running water following soon after.

Alone with my troubled thoughts, I rub a hand over my face, confusion and unease swirling within me. What was I thinking last night? I've always prided myself on self-control and propriety. Yet I threw it all aside in a moment of reckless passion.

Seeing Kathryn caught between us all, responding so beautifully to our touch—it unleashed something primal and dangerous within me. I became drunk on dominance, commanding the others to pleasure her as I watched her come undone.

And she submitted so sweetly...

But now, in the harsh morning light, doubts creep in. Did I take advantage of her in a vulnerable moment? Cross unforgivable lines? I'm here for a job, to play a role. Instead I acted no better than…Wilder.

I'm torn violently from my churning thoughts as both Wilder and Emrys begin stirring awake. Before anyone can speak, Kathryn emerges from the bathroom, radiant even in a simple sundress and with damp hair curling alluringly around her shoulders. She gifts us all a shy smile without meeting our eyes.

A pang of…something slices through me at the obvious shame I see swirling within her.

"Duty calls," she says breezily, though tension lingers beneath the surface. "We'll...talk later?"

All three of us nod, watching silently as she grabs her room key and disappears out of the door in a swirl of vanilla scent and clicking sandals.

And then there were three.

Naked men.

Alone in a bed.

An awkward silence descends.

I keep my gaze fixed on the door, unwilling to meet the eyes of the other two men still lounging in various states of undress beside me.

Wilder seems unbothered, stretching lazily before hopping out of bed and sauntering towards the bathroom. "Well, I sure worked up an appetite after that workout last night. What's say we grab some breakfast, fellas?"

His casual tone grates on my nerves. Acting as if we didn't just have a complete lapse of judgment and cross multiple professional lines by bedding our client together. I bite my tongue to refrain from snapping at him. Antagonizing Wilder will get us nowhere.

Emrys remains silent, but I feel the weight of his brooding stare. Wilder's recklessness seems to have brought out a feral intensity in the man that sets my teeth on edge. We allowed ourselves to be ruled by baser instincts last night, but I'll be damned if I let this–whatever it is–continue unchecked.

As the shower starts running, I pin Emrys with a stern look. "This cannot happen again. We’re supposed to be professional." Even as the words leave my mouth, images from last night flash unbidden across my mind. The taste of her skin, the breathy sounds of her pleasure.

Focus!

Emrys' golden eyes narrow dangerously. "Too late for regrets," he rumbles. "The line's been crossed."

I sit up straighter, steeling myself. "Lines exist for a reason. Last night was a lapse in judgment."

Emrys seems to see something on my face and the ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips. "What are you afraid of?"

Before I can craft a response, Wilder emerges from the bathroom whistling cheerfully, while shamelessly nude. I avert my eyes in exasperation as he rummages for clothes.

"Now don't be shy, ladies, nothing here y'all haven't seen already." Wilder accentuates this with an exaggerated hip swivel as he tugs on his jeans.

Emrys grunts, looking utterly unimpressed by the display. I, however, feel my composure fraying rapidly.

"Must you make light of everything?" I snap.

Wilder turns and shoots me a cocky grin, eyes glinting with mischief. "Lighten up, amigo. The way I see it, we've got no obligations now 'cept having a good time together." His gaze turns wicked. "And I think we're all man enough to admit we enjoyed last night."

"This isn't a game," I grit out tersely. But even as I say it, uncertainty wars within me.

Wilder is right about one thing—I wanted Kathryn last night. I wanted to feel her pleasured cries and taste the salt off her skin. And if I'm being fully honest...the notion of having her again arouses dark desire, propriety be damned.

A smug smile spreads across his face at whatever he sees on mine, and it makes my fingers twitch with the urge to knock it off him.

Emrys rises from the bed, muscles coiling with barely leashed intensity beneath his tattooed skin. He moves to stand beside me facing Wilder. The air is saturated with testosterone, both of us radiating dominance and warning.

Only, Wilder seems utterly unbothered by the dangerous energy pervading the lavish suite. If anything, his grin widens, eyes glinting recklessly. "What? Y’all scared of a little competition?” He spreads his arms wide, the picture of cocky nonchalance. “Worried you can't measure up to a real man?"

At the bold challenge, Emrys bristles, stepping forward aggressively. I place a firm hand on his chest to hold him back. Now is not the time for rash actions.

"There's no need for confrontation," I state evenly, keeping my tone calm with effort.

"Typical." Wilder scoffs, looking far too entertained by the rising tension. "Ever the diplomat. You need to loosen that starched collar and start embracing those baser instincts, Wyatt." His blue eyes gleam wickedly. "I know Kat would enjoy seeing you cut loose again."

The insinuation makes heat crawl up my neck. The memory of Kathryn submitting so sweetly to my commanding touch last night fans the flickering flames within me. I want–no, need–to feel that heady rush of power again.

She was perfect.

Slowly and deliberately, I turn and pin Wilder with a penetrating stare that has him shifting almost imperceptibly. Emrys looks on with interest, muscles coiled in readiness.

"You seem quite confident in yourself," I state evenly, watching Wilder closely. "Care to truly put it to the test?"

I issue the reckless challenge without hesitation, decorum shriveling in the face of burning desire. Let him question my restraint now.

Wilder's eyes widen fractionally in surprise before a sharp, cunning smile spreads across his rugged features. "Oh, it’s on now." His gravelly voice rings with anticipation.

Emrys steps forward, eyes blazing golden fire. "You're both delusional if you think she'll choose either of you over me." His bold vow rumbles through the room like a promise.

I turn my gaze on him, regarding him evenly. This is ridiculous, but I can’t seem to find it in me to stop. To back down.

Sensing the gauntlet thrown down, Wilder's grin turns positively feral. "Well alright then. May the best man win." His eyes gleam wickedly.

The challenge hangs heavy in the air, reckless and irresistible. Gone is any logic and reason, all of it laying tattered in a pile at our feet. We came here as allies, but now size each other up as rivals, provoked and on high alert.

This is entirely unprecedented–crazy even–yet I find myself intrigued rather than appalled. This unexpected battle brewing between us snaps something primal awake inside me, sharpening my focus with predatory intensity.

I will not be backing down or stepping aside. Not when it comes to Kathryn. I intend to tap into the dominant, commanding side she so beautifully submitted to last night. And I will relish every second of pleasuring her into sweet oblivion.

I never lose.

Jaw clenched, I hold Wilder's daring stare unflinchingly. "You're on."

Chapter 24

My heart pounds erratically as I rush to the elevator. What was I thinking last night? One minute we were playing innocent card games, the next…

I wait just long enough for the doors to close before I lean against the wall, the memory of their hands and mouths worshiping every inch of me making my knees weak. I've never felt so desired, so overwhelmed with pleasure. Who knew Wyatt's refined polish hid such delicious dominance, or that roguish Wilder could play my body so skillfully, or that Emrys' untamed intensity would brand my very soul?

Vivid memories from last night play on a constant loop in my mind–the intoxicating passion, the pleasure bordering on painful, the sheer intensity of being with them all at once.

I've never felt so utterly consumed and stripped bare. So reckless and out of control.

It was freeing, letting go of all inhibitions and rational thought and simply feeling. But now harsh reality encroaches with the glaring morning light, and panic creeps in. This was only supposed to be a temporary fake boyfriend scheme, a business transaction.

I never meant for…this!

What must they think of me, so easily coming undone from their touch? The poised entrepreneur reduced to a writhing, begging mess. Shame burns through me. I couldn't even meet their eyes as I fled the bedroom, afraid of what I'd see reflecting back.

Disgust? Regret? Judgment?

I take a deep steadying breath. I just need to get through this bridesmaid brunch. Then I can figure out how to untangle myself from this thrilling but terrifying knot I've tied.

My phone chimes with a text. It's from Annabelle asking where I am. Yes. Perfect. Focus on my sister and her wedding week. I smooth my dress and paste on a breezy smile.

I'll deal with everything else later.

My hands tremble as I enter the private brunch area, immediately spotting Annabelle waving at me enthusiastically. Her excited smile falters as I approach, no doubt seeing the poorly concealed panic in my eyes.

"Hey girls, time for you to leave. I have business with my sister I forgot about," Annabelle announces brightly to the other chatting bridesmaids, but her tone brooks no argument. Though based on Naomi’s scrunched up features, she wants to. Thankfully, she keeps her trap shut and they all leave with friendly farewells.

Before I can object, Annabelle links her arm through mine and steers me to the table and plops me on a cushioned chair before sitting directly across from me.

"Alright, spill. What's got you looking like you just stumbled out of a war zone?" Annabelle asks without preamble, fixing me with her probing gaze.

I try to arrange my features into casual indifference. Not that I’m successful. "It's nothing, just tired is all."

Annabelle levels me with a look that could pin a moth. "Cut the crap, Kat. I haven't seen you this freaked out since prom night when Mark Cooper's limo broke down."

I shake my head helplessly, the words lodging in my throat.

"Talk to me. What happened?"

"We...crossed a line last night. Too far," I croak. “All of us. Together.” Each word is harder to force out than the former.

Annabelle's eyes nearly bug out of her head. "You did what now?!"

"Shhh!" I glance around frantically but luckily no one seems to have heard my sister's outburst.

"Holy shit!" Annabelle looks torn between shock and awe. "How did that even work?"

"Can we focus, please?" I snap, even as heat creeps up my neck. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

“Brass pussy indeed…” Annabelle grins, clearly enjoying my flustered state far too much. "I mean, I don't blame you. All three are smokin' hot. I'm surprised you didn't burst into flames sooner." I roll my eyes at her as she rubs her hands together eagerly. "Ooh, please tell me there were fuzzy handcuffs involved. Or at least a sexy firefighter roleplay scenario."

"Demon-Doll!" I shove her shoulder indignantly.

She cackles. "Sorry, but you're just too easy to rile up. I'm living vicariously through you over here." Her expression softens. "But seriously, don't panic. You did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah…except…you know…fuck my paid escorts!” I hiss as quietly as I can.

“Nah. They’re actors. Not escorts.” She takes a nonchalant sip of her drink, eyeing me and noting my still present worry. She sighs, leaning forward. “I’m serious. You’re practically living every girl’s dream right now. All they need is magical powers and tragic backstories and you have yourself a proper fantasy romance.” She waggles her eyebrows knowingly and I huff, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Leave my book dragon life alone,” I grouse, but I can’t help the twitching of the corner of my mouth as she grins.

I shake my head at my sister's teasing, but can't help smiling. Only Annabelle can find humor even in my frazzled state.

"I just need to figure out what to say to them. How to handle this," I murmur, glancing down at my hands twisting together anxiously in my lap.

Annabelle makes an exaggerated snoring sound. "No more overthinking! Stop trying to control everything. It’s Cancun, Kitty-Kat! What better place to let your inhibitions run wild and have fun?"

I bite my lip uncertainly. My tendency to overanalyze has protected me in the past from poor choices. But she has a point that sometimes thinking too much leaves me paralyzed.

Before I can reply, a grating, overconfident voice cuts in. "Well, fancy running into you ladies here."

My spine stiffens as Brody saunters over, his artfully tousled hair and smug grin setting my teeth on edge.

Annabelle glares at him. "What do you want, Brody?"

Ignoring her icy tone, Brody focuses his hollow charm on me. "We need to talk, babe."

“Like hell, fucker. Go away.”

He slides into the seat next to me, heedless of my hostile body language. "C'mon Kathy, don't play coy. We both know this little charade with multiple boyfriends is just your way of trying to make me jealous."

He grasps my hand before I can pull away. "I get it, and it worked. I want you back, babe." His thumb strokes my knuckles and I yank my hand out of his in revulsion.

"You arrogant ass. I have zero interest in getting back with you." I stand abruptly, shoulders rigid. "Unlike you, I've moved on. So stop embarrassing yourself and leave."

Brody stands as well, moving into my space. His cloying cologne conjures bad memories. "Don't kid yourself. I'm the best you'll ever get." His eyes blaze with anger. "It’s no wonder you need three of them just to fill the hole I left in your life. Admit it–you're still hung up on us."

I can't help it–I throw my head back and laugh derisively, right in his face. "Please. I'd rather be alone for the rest of my life than ever let your cheating, pathetic ass back in it."

I turn dismissively, ready to end this toxic encounter, but Brody grabs my wrist, face mottling with rage. "Stop playing hard to get, Kat. I said I get it. You can drop the act now."

Before I can wrench my hand away, a menacing rumble interrupts. "Let. Her. Go."

My eyes widen as I take in Emrys looming behind Brody, murder etched on his rugged features. Brody pales but plasters on a cocky smirk and scoffs, not releasing his tight grip on my wrist. "Back off, dude. This is between me and my fiancé."

Fiancé? The arrogant claim makes my blood boil. I see red as I wrench my hand away from him forcefully, skin burning from where he touched me. Yet, before I can spit venom at his audacity, Wilder sidles up next to Emrys, a deceptively casual grin on his rugged features. His cobalt eyes are blazing with icy fire, his jaw clenched tightly.

"I think Kitten made herself clear, fella." Wilder's drawl drips false affability as he sizes Brody up. "No need to cause a scene."

Brody sneers, clearly trying to hide his nerves. "Stay out of this, hick."

Just then, Wyatt appears, looking impeccably composed in his crisp button-down as always. But the severe, penetrating look he pins Brody with could freeze molten lava. My pulse kicks up a notch as he steps closer to me, radiating strength and unwavering solidarity. His large hand comes to rest on my lower back possessively. I have to fight back a shiver at his touch searing through the thin fabric of my sundress.

"Perhaps you should leave, before things get...unpleasant." Wyatt's refined tone brokers absolutely no argument. The warning in his stormy eyes is clear.

Brody visibly wavers as he glances between the three intimidating men now flanking me protectively. He attempts a cocky laugh, but there's a frantic edge creeping into his voice that gives him away. "Whatever. She'll come crawling back eventually. She always does." Before any of us can respond, he whirls unsteadily on his heel and stalks away, shoulders taught with barely concealed rage.

I sag against Wyatt's sturdy frame in relief as the tension drains from my body. His strong hand slides further around my waist, steadying me, and I smile gratefully up at him. "Thank you. All of you, for that."

Wyatt's slate gray eyes soften, a slight smile curving his lips. "Of course, Kathryn." My name rolls off his tongue intimately, making me shiver.

Annabelle pipes up indignantly from behind me. "The absolute nerve of that man! I'm glad you guys put him in his place." She glances between the four of us, noting the tension still present. Snatching her drink from the table, she gives me a conspiratorial grin. “I’ll leave you crazy kids to it. Don’t forget about tonight!”

Then she simply sashays away. Leaving me alone with my three pretend boyfriends.

Before I can dwell any further on that fact, Wilder sidles up with a mischievous grin.

"Now that the trash took itself out, I've got a real fun surprise for you, darlin'." He waggles his eyebrows. "Whaddya say we ditch these wet blankets and go have ourselves a private adventure?"

Okay. So denial? Is that what we’re going with? Just pretending nothing at all strange and crazy happened last night? Cool. Cool. Cool.

Feigning nonchalance that I don’t feel, I roll my eyes dramatically at him. "A private adventure? With you? Not sure my insurance covers that kind of hazard, Cowboy."

Wilder clutches his chest, feigning offense. "You wound me! When have I ever led you astray?" At my pointed look, he laughs. "Alright, no need to answer that. But trust me, you'll love this surprise."

His eyes sparkle earnestly beneath the playful charm and despite my reservations, curiosity tugs at me. I do love surprises. And, an adventure away from wedding chaos sounds appealing.

I glance at the other two, wondering if they’re going to…I don’t know…object? Emrys stands rigid, an undercurrent of frustration in his flexing muscles as Wyatt's jaw ticks, clearly displeased at being brushed aside.

But neither say a damn thing.

"Alright then," I finally relent, turning back to Wilder. "But this better be good."

"Yes ma'am!" Wilder gives an exaggerated bow and offers his arm gallantly.

Maybe I need to listen to Annabelle’s advice and stop overthinking things so much and just embrace the unpredictability. What's the worst that could happen?

Actually no, I don't even want to imagine.

I take his arm anyway.

Chapter 25

After getting ready, I guide Kat away from the resort towards the surprise I've got planned, barely able to contain my excitement. This little excursion is sure to impress her. And thanks to that wager with Emrys and Wyatt, I’ve got extra motivation to make sure this date knocks Kat’s socks off.

Or silky unmentionables in this case.

I’m ‘gonna win this thing and prove I’m the only man who really knows how to charm Kat and get her heart racing. Those other two bozos don’t stand a chance.

"We're not going swimming with sharks or anything crazy, right Cowboy?" She asks, one delicate brow arched in that cute way she does when she’s trying to seem stern.

I chuckle, tucking her soft little hand snugly into the crook of my arm and reveling in her warmth pressed against me. "Much as I'd love to see you in a skimpy wetsuit, darlin', I've got something even better in mind."

Her cheeks pink up real pretty at that and she nudges me playfully. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you just enjoy keeping me in suspense."

Oh, she has no idea. I’ve been looking forward to this surprise date all morning, imagining the look on her gorgeous face when she sees where we’re going.

"Maybe I just like having your undivided attention," I tease back, delighting in the way it makes her breath hitch.

We reach the gleaming, rental jeep waiting nearby and I make a big show of opening the passenger door with an exaggerated bow. "Your chariot awaits, m'lady."

Kat laughs, the sound sweeter than wind chimes. Her eyes are just sparkling and vibrant. "Why thank you, good sir."

As we bump along the coastline, the wind whipping through our hair, she peers at me with those big curious eyes. Turquoise and endless like the sea before us.

"So are you going to tell me where we're headed or do I have to guess?" She asks.

I wink and tap my nose. "Patience, darlin'. We're almost there."

I ain’t about to ruin the big reveal.

We round a bend and the sound of Kat's awed gasp is sweeter than any music. The dense jungle opens up before us, an endless emerald canopy dotted with rocky cliffs and thundering waterfalls that crash into crystal pools below.

"Welcome to Coba's famed zip lining tours," I announce proudly as we roll up to the welcome center. "I know how much you love adventure."

The way Kat's face lights up makes my chest swell fit to burst. Like sunshine breaking through clouds, her brilliant smile reminds me that beneath that poised exterior lies a bold spirit just waiting to run wild. And I aim to unleash it today.

After getting strapped into our harnesses and helmets, we follow our guide to the first platform, suspended high above the dripping rainforest. The shrieks of toucans and howler monkeys fill the humid air, a fitting soundtrack to our daring rainforest escape.

I grasp the zip line handle, my heart kicking into high gear both from the thrill of the ride ahead and the stunning woman beside me as we both get fastened in. The guy steps back, nodding that we’re good and I turn to Kat with a wild grin.

"You ready for this, darlin'?"

Her eyes spark with unrestrained excitement as she laughs. "Let's do it!"

Together we leap off the platform without hesitation, the wind roaring in our ears as the zip line hurtles us at breakneck speed over the dense jungle canopy. The treetops blur beneath us in a sea of green, our shouts of exhilaration drowned out by the sound of the wind and racing pulse.

We land safely at the next platform, breathless and pumped full of adrenaline. Kat's grin is brighter than the beaming sunshine overhead. "That was incredible!"

Seeing her so unrestrained and happy, cheeks endearingly flushed, I'm sorely tempted to pull her in for a dizzying victory kiss. To feel those sweet lips yielding under mine would surely be heaven. But I restrain myself for now. There’ll be plenty of time for that later once she’s glowing and thrumming with excitement after our action-packed day.

Because while Emrys and Wyatt are probably brooding back at the resort boring each other to death, I know this daring beauty beside me craves adventure and excitement deep down in her soul, and I aim to unleash that side of her until her heart is racing with more than just the thrill of adrenaline.

The wind whips through our hair as Kat and I soar together through the rainforest canopy once more, our exhilarated shouts mingling and echoing across the valley. As we reach the next platform, I can't wipe the wide grin from my face.

"Damn, darlin', you were born to fly," I say with a laugh as her eyes sparkle brightly from the adrenaline rush.

Kat nudges my shoulder playfully, cheeks flushed pink in the most alluring way. "What can I say, you bring out my inner daredevil, Cowboy."

Her smile makes my chest tighten in the best way, and I have to resist the urge to pull her into a searing kiss right then and there.

Focus, man.

We take off down the next line. With her hair streaming behind her like a banner and joy lighting up her striking features, Kat looks positively radiant.

As we touch down at the next stop, I watch her try to smooth down the flyaway strands of her dark silky hair and fail adorably, making me chuckle.

"What's next on the agenda?" Kat asks, turquoise eyes dancing with anticipation.

I grin, unable to resist teasing her a bit. "Patience, darlin'. You'll see soon enough."

She narrows her eyes, but there's no masking that reckless light still blazing within them. We take the last zip line stretched high across a mist-filled valley carved out by a roaring waterfall. Kat's infectious laughter mingles with the crashing water as we soar weightlessly together.

I knew she'd love this rush of excitement, being able to cut loose and embrace the thrill of the moment. Out here, nothing else matters but the wind in our hair and the endless possibilities shining in her vibrant eyes.

As we skid to a graceful stop at the final platform, I watch Kat try to catch her breath, flush with exertion. Man alive, she really is something. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman quite like her. Someone who matches me thrill for thrill.

Before the moment can slip away, I step closer and take her delicate hands in mine. "Thanks for sharing this adventure with me, Kat," I say earnestly. Her lips part as she blinks up at me in surprise.

"Of course," she says, a hint of shy pleasure in her voice. "That was really fun, cowboy."

"Oh, the fun's just getting started, darlin'," I promise recklessly.

Kat's eyes widen at my daring promise, a tantalizing mix of trepidation and intrigue swirling in their sea-glass depths. Before she can respond, our guide interrupts with perfect timing.

"I hope you two enjoyed the zip line tour! Now, who's ready for some cliff diving?" He gestures to the waterfall cascading beside us into an inviting natural pool below.

As we take in the view of the crashing falls, I plop down on a nearby boulder and pat the spot next to me. "Why don't we sit a spell before our big plunge?"

Kat settles gracefully, shoulders just barely brushing mine. A pleasant tingle runs through me at even that slight contact.

"So tell me, darlin', what made you choose the glamorous world of animal welfare?" I ask, genuinely curious to know what drives her.

Kat smiles, gazing out across the valley. "I've loved animals for as long as I can remember. When I was little, I was always trying to bring home strays to save them."

Her expression turns wistful. "I cried when I found out swans could only have one mate their whole lives. It seemed so tragically romantic to me."

I have to chuckle at that. "Even as a tiny thing you were a sucker for romance, huh?"

"Pretty much." Kat bumps my shoulder playfully. "Anyway, in college I realized I could turn my passion into a career helping endangered species and abused creatures find a second chance. Plus…it is rather exciting to tame and soothe the most dangerous ones." She shoots me a wry grin that I return.

I get that part real well.

Looking away, she shakes her head ruefully. "My family never understood why I didn't want to join the tech business like my dad. Well, at least everyone but my dad, though they all supported me anyways. They knew I had to follow my heart."

Hearing the passion in her voice makes something squeeze tight in my chest. "Well your heart clearly led you right. Couldn't imagine a better career fit for someone like you."

Kat beams at the compliment before arching a brow at me. "What about you, Cowboy? How'd you end up playing doctor?"

I stretch back lazily, hands behind my head. "Wanted an excuse to play with all the fun gizmos and gadgets."

Kat swats my stomach and I laugh. "Alright, alright. Honestly? I had a knack for science and helping fix broken things. I like it. Seemed like being a surgeon suited that."

I meet her gaze openly. "Plus I like the challenge of high stakes. Makes me feel alive."

Kat tilts her head thoughtfully. "Is that why you're such an adrenaline junkie?"

"Maybe so." I shrug. "Life's short, why not live it to the fullest?"

"I envy that reckless spirit of yours sometimes," Kat admits with a small smile. "My last relationship really did a number on my ability to open up and embrace spontaneity."

I nudge her gently. "That fucker is a real piece of work. You deserve better."

Kat's eyes soften gratefully. "That's actually really nice to hear. He could be so undermining with his…jokes." She actually pairs her words with air quotes and a roll of her eyes. It's cute.

"I don't doubt it, darlin'. But the way I see it, your spirit's too bold to ever be dimmed for long." I bump her shoulder playfully. "Like right now, embracing adventure with your favorite cowboy."

Kat laughs aloud at that. "Oh, so you're my favorite now?"

I stand and offer her my hand gallantly. "Actions speak louder than words. Now let's show this cliff who's boss!"

Kat grins and lets me tug her to her feet.

We strip off our outer layers to reveal our swimsuits underneath. I can't take my eyes off Kat as she peels off her dress to uncover a sleek blue bikini that hugs her curves in all the right places. I swallow hard, not even bothering trying not to stare.

We make our way to the edge of the cliff, the afternoon sun warm on our skin. Far below, the bright water beckons us to take the plunge.

"Ready?" I ask, squeezing Kat's hand. She nods, eyes alight with exhilaration.

We back up a few steps, then take a running leap, shouting joyously as we sail through the air. For a moment, we're flying, the wind whipping through our hair. Then we hit the water with a tremendous splash.

When we surface, Kat's beaming smile steals my breath away. Unable to resist, I grasp her hips and pull her in close beneath the thundering falls, leading us behind the canopy of rushing waters.

"Gotcha," I rasp, my pulse racing wildly.

Kat's sea-glass eyes widen, full lips parting enticingly. We drift together in the swirling waters, the crashing cascade enveloping us in its misty cocoon until we hit a rocky outcropping where I can easily touch. Heady anticipation courses through me as I lean in, drawn like a moth to her flame.

When our lips finally meet, the outside world fades away. Kat lets out a muffled gasp before yielding sweetly to me. Her delicate hands come up to grasp my shoulders as I deepen the kiss, letting loose all the desire that's been simmering below the surface.

The feel of her soft body pressed to mine has my head spinning wildly. I clutch her hips tighter, tangling my tongue with hers. Her answering moan sends heat blazing through my veins. Damn, this woman is addictive.

I lift her from the water, turning and walking her to a large smooth boulder jutting out of the water as she wraps her legs around my waist and grinds shamelessly against me. I set her on it, leaning back and grinning wolfishly down at her.

“Think you can be quiet for me, darlin’?”

Kat's eyes darken, her cheeks flushing pink. Slowly, she nods, biting her plump lower lip in that way that drives me wild.

"Good girl," I rasp. My hands trail down to untie her bikini bottoms before I grasp her hips, tilting her just right. I'm rock hard for her, pulsing with need.

With one smooth motion, I enter her slick heat, swallowing her breathy moan with my mouth. Her nails dig into my shoulders as I start to move. I set a relentless pace, unable to hold back.

Kat meets each urgent thrust, writhing against me. The sounds of the crashing falls muffle our pleasure, skin slick and heated. I'm lost in her, in this unbridled moment. My usual recklessness unchecked.

"That's it, darlin', let me make you feel good," I groan against the delicate skin of her throat. Her answering whimper goes straight to my cock. I grip her even tighter, my rhythm growing more punishing as release beckons.

Our mouths meet again, all clashing teeth and tangled tongues. The boulder rocks with my movements but I don't stop, drunk on her taste and those sweet little sounds. I swallow them hungrily.

Kat trembles in my arms, so close to the edge. I reach between us, finding the swollen nub that makes her keen raggedly.

"Wilder, please!" Kat cries out, nails raking my back. Her eyes are glazed, lips kiss-swollen. She's never looked more beautiful. Or more mine.

I crush my mouth to hers once more as my hips piston recklessly. "Come on, darlin'. Come for me."

My guttural command is all it takes. Kat shatters around me with a sharp cry. I plunge into her tight heat once more before letting myself go with a harsh groan, pleasure whiting out my vision.

We remain suspended in bliss, our pants and the roar of the falls the only sounds. Slowly, the world comes back into focus. I smooth back Kat's mussed hair, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. Her answering smile makes my chest squeeze in a foreign way that has my mind spinning.

Oh, fuck.

Are those feelings?

Chapter 26

My cheeks are still flushed and my pulse still racing as Wilder and I make our way back to the resort after our thrilling waterfall escapade. His hand lingers at the small of my back, touch searing deliciously through the thin fabric of my shirt. I can't resist leaning into him, craving more contact.

My body still thrums pleasantly in the aftermath, skin tingling everywhere we touched. Who knew a reckless romp could feel so deliciously indulgent? With Wilder, I feel freer, less inhibited, like I can tap into a bolder side of myself.

As we step off the elevator and into the suite, Wyatt and Emrys glance up, tension visible in their strong frames. Wilder's hand presses more firmly against me, his smile taking on a hint of smugness as he meets their gazes.

"Have a nice day lounging around, fellas?" Wilder drawls, his southern accent more pronounced. The atmosphere instantly charges with an undercurrent I can't quite decipher.

Wyatt's slate gray eyes flick to Wilder's hand on my lower back, his expression shuttering. Emrys doesn't speak, but his imposing presence seems to fill the room as he watches us broodingly.

Unease prickles the back of my neck. Did something happen between them while we were gone? Before I can dwell on it further, Wilder takes my hand, drawing my focus back to him.

"You can have the first shower, darlin’," His cobalt eyes gleam suggestively. "I'll get us some drinks and then give you a nice massage to work out any sore muscles from our...adventures."

My cheeks heat at the images his words inspire, but I find myself nodding mutely and making my escape to the bedroom before I combust under the weight of all their gazes. As I rummage through my suitcase and head to take a quick shower, I try to calm my racing thoughts.

Sure, my little tryst with Wilder was…amazing. It felt damn good to just let loose and not overthink. To have fun and go with the flow. But shit. That doesn’t stop my thoughts from continuously veering towards Emrys and Wyatt as well.

Last night was indescribable. Something I would have never in a million years done before this damn trip. I don’t know why the hell I did it. I don’t know what got into me. And I have no idea where to go from here.

I step under the flow of hot water, washing and rinsing as quickly as possible, my movements as jerky and wild as my thoughts.

Do I just follow Annabelle’s advice and just…let whatever happens, happen? Or should I try my best to stop this train before it crashes and burns, taking us all down with it?

Hell, I don’t even know what the guys are thinking. They chose not to bring it up. Maybe it’s regret? Maybe it was literally just a fun night and that’s it. Yet, why the hell does that thought have a pang of something slicing through my chest?

I've barely stepped out of the bathroom when my phone starts blasting my ringtone for Annabelle. I scramble to answer it before the chaotic cacophony brings any attention from the guys.

"Hey, sis, what's up?"

"Don't you hey sis me, I want details!" Annabelle demands without preamble. "How was your little private getaway with Wilder?"

I sigh, pressing the phone closer to my ear and peeking through the cracked door to see all three men speaking quietly on the couch. I should not have even texted and told her what I was doing. "It was...nice," I say evasively, unwilling to rehash the steamier details.

Annabelle makes an exaggerated buzzer noise. "Weak sauce, try again! Did you two bump uglies?"

"Demon-Doll, you're shameless," I mutter, sure my face resembles an overripe tomato as I quietly shut the door the rest of the way and pull my towel from around my body and fling it to the floor.

I’ll pick it up later.

"And you're being dodgy which means something totally happened! Spill!"

Before I'm forced to respond, Annabelle gasps loudly. "Oh shoot, I almost forgot the real reason why I called! We're all meeting soon for the obstacle course competition at the north beach. Please don't be late or mom will have a conniption!"

I wince, having totally forgotten about it. "Right, thanks for the reminder. I'll head down soon."

"And don't think this gets you off the hook," Annabelle adds sternly. "I expect a full recap later of this so-called nice time you had."

I roll my eyes even as my lips quirk with amusement as I say goodbye. Only my sister could be thrilled about living vicariously through my complicated love life knot. With a resigned sigh, I quickly throw on a pair of yoga shorts and cropped tank top before swinging open the bedroom door.

"So, who's up for another Sharpe family competition?" I ask with exaggerated enthusiasm, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Wyatt and Emrys exchange unreadable looks while Wilder just laughs and claps his hands together. "Well alrighty then, time for round two! Or is it three now?" His eyes gleam recklessly and I slap my hand to my face before turning back to finish getting ready.

I quickly blowdry my hair, throw it up in a bun and slap some sandals on my feet, not bothering with make-up or anything else. I hate wearing it anyways. Plus, if the obstacle course is on the beach, that means we will all be barefoot anyways.

When I surface once more, the guys are all dressed in swim trunks and t-shirts, their eyes lasered on me. Wyatt’s jaw is tight, his gaze intense as it flicks over my entire frame. Emrys’ gaze is stormy, his muscles bunching as his arms stay crossed over his chest. But Wilder, the cheeky bastard, gives me a lazy perusal and a wink before offering his arm to me.

“Ready to go, darlin’?”

Ignoring the flutter his southern drawl incites, I take his offer. Wyatt and Emrys trail behind us, tension simmering beneath the surface. I have a feeling this event will be anything but straightforward. Then again, when is anything ever easy with these three around?

Wilder's warm hand on mine sends sparks skittering through me as we make our way to the beach. I'm hyper aware of the heated gazes boring into my back and bare legs.

When we step outside into the humid air, Emrys' broad palm finds the small of my back as he nudges Wilder out of the way, his touch searing tantalizingly on my exposed skin. I have to resist leaning back into his sturdy warmth.

On my other side, Wyatt steps closer as we walk, his arm brushes mine, eliciting traitorous tingles. I shouldn't encourage their advances, but my treacherous body seems to have other ideas. Their nearness clouds my mind, my skin craving more contact.

As we approach the crowded stretch of beach, Dad spots us and waves us over enthusiastically. "There you are! We were about to send out a search party."

I roll my eyes good-naturedly as we join the gathering family members. "I wouldn't miss a chance to show up you old-timers."

Dad laughs heartily. "That's my girl, competitive as ever. Although for this event, it's every person for themselves. No teams allowed." His eyes gleam with mischief. "Let's see which of these young men earns the title of victor."

At his words, a charged look passes between Wyatt, Emrys and Wilder. Their competitive natures instantly rising to the surface. I can practically see the testosterone starting to flow as they size each other up.

Wyatt's stormy eyes are intense, his jaw clenched tight. Emrys cracks his knuckles menacingly, muscles rippling under his shirt. And Wilder–his heated gaze rakes over me slowly, filled with dark promise. A shiver runs down my spine.

My dad doesn't even notice the building tension, enthusiastically heading to the small platform with a microphone off to our right. A massive curtain is erected in front of the gathering masses of Sharpes, hiding whatever obstacle course my devious parents managed to dream up this time.

I'm only half listening as he starts explaining the rules of tonight's game. My focus is drawn to the three men poised for battle beside me.

Wilder leans in close, breath tickling my ear as his finger grazes the curve of my collar bone. "What do you say we make this interesting, darlin'? Winner gets a favor from the loser." His gravelly voice drips with suggestion, making my cheeks flush.

Before I can reply, Wyatt steps forward smoothly. "I'll take that wager." His stormy eyes blazing with challenge. Emrys grunts his agreement, golden eyes narrowing to slits.

What is happening right now?

Wilder’s smile falters for a moment as his attention switches to the two men, his posture going rigid as his hand drops to his side.

Before anything else can happen, Dad calls everyone to line up at the starting line, his voice practically giddy. I take my place in one of the four lines, hyper aware of Wyatt, Emrys and Wilder lining up in the remaining rows on either side of me. The reckless wager hangs heavy in the air, thick with dangerous promise.

Somehow we end up first in all four lines, as if my family is anticipating watching the four of us compete for once. Glancing around, I can tell I’m right. Aunt’s, uncles, cousins, and more are giving the four of us a wide berth as they whisper and pass around money. Cousin Jimmy is enthusiastically writing things down on a clipboard and seems to be collecting for a massive pool.

“Are you guys freaking kidding me?” I cross my arms as Annabelle and Ethan both add money to the bucket, not an ounce of remorse on their faces.

Annabelle shrugs, her lips quirking up in a smirk. “Oh come on, Kat. If roles were reversed, you’d be running the wagers like this was a horse track.” I scowl at her as Ethan chuckles and throws his arm around her shoulders.

“What she said. Plus…” He pauses dramatically and whispers to Cousin Jimmy before turning back to me. “You all as a team have been unstoppable. This is the only time we will get with all of you on opposite sides. It’s probably the event of the week!”

I open my mouth to tell them where they can stick it, but I’m interrupted before I can say a word.

"Alright folks, here's the moment you've all been waiting for!" Dad's voice booms out enthusiastically. "Let's unveil…the Sharpe Straightjacket Run!"

The massive curtain drops dramatically, revealing the bonkers course spanning the length of the beach. My eyes widen as I take in the hodgepodge of muddy pits, rickety rope bridges, towering rock climbing walls and a massive water slide dropping into the ocean. Leave it to my family to dream up an adventure this freaking mad.

“Disclaimer,” Dad’s voice lowers dramatically as he starts speaking quicker, like he’s listing the side effects on a medicine commercial. “Every participant starts the race in a straight jacket. You may try to remove it however you see fit, or you can try to complete the entirety with the jacket on. This is up to you to decide. Risk failing obstacles with the jacket on, or risk losing time to trying to remove it? Your choice.”

Excited murmurs and shouts rise up around me as everyone takes in the chaos, a few of my cousins stepping forward to dress us up in our straight jackets. I sneak a glance at my competitors, seeing their competitive natures are already rising to the surface even though they all have an air of bewilderment at the course rules.

They’re still not quite used to Sharpe shenanigans apparently.

I let my cousin tighten my straightjacket, trying not to laugh as the cousin helping put Emrys’ on has to run and grab a bigger size three times before finding one that semi-fits. Wilder is practically vibrating with anticipation at the wild and unanticipated rules, his eyes gleaming recklessly. Wyatt is ramrod straight, his gaze sharp and analyzing as he takes in the course.

"On your marks..." Dad calls out, building the suspense. I dig my toes into the sand, body coiled in readiness.

"Get set..." I block out the sounds of cheering family members, my focus narrowing to the course ahead. This will be a true test. I have no intention of losing to these men.

"Go!"

At Dad's bellowed command, the guys all take off like a shot at the course. I let out the massive breath I was holding and relax every muscle in my body that I had tensed and made larger than usual while being dressed. The straightjacket slackens and I twist and move until I have it shimmying out of place and pull my arms out. I quickly unstrap the contraption and remove it completely before sprinting towards the course.

All three guys have made it through the first two obstacles, but seem to be struggling with the third: a fifteen foot wall with a rope that they have to climb up. There are footholds to try and climb while wearing the jacket, but they’re spread apart just enough to have them practically doing the splits against the wall to reach each one. Wilder is struggling the most with his shorter stature, and Emrys is having the easiest time with his massive leg span, but all three are wasting precious time.

I grin fiercely as I army crawl through the first obstacle as fast as I can then vault over a set of three low walls at the second like I’m jumping hurdles in high school track. The cheers of my family members and my dad’s commentary in the mic like a dull buzz at the back of my mind.

I’m in this to fucking win.

I sprint towards the climbing wall, adrenaline and determination fueling my every stride. Up ahead, Wyatt, Emrys and Wilder’s frustrated grunts and the shuffling sounds of their feet scuffing the wooden wall urge me on faster.

Grabbing the rope, I start to scale the wall and pass Wilder first, unable to resist flashing him a smug grin as I breeze by. "Sorry boys, you should have paid more attention to my dad's disclaimer!" I call out in a sing-song voice.

Wilder's head whips towards me, his eyes widening comically as he takes in my freed state. "My stars and garters! Would ya look at that little cheat!" He hollers after me, though I hear the undertone of admiration in his exasperated tone.

I cackle and don't look back, too focused on the prize ahead. As I crest the top, pulling myself up and over, I chance a glance down and have to smother a laugh.

Wyatt's usually refined facade is creased in frustration, his movements jerky and uncoordinated as he tries to climb in the restrictive suit. Meanwhile, Emrys is practically snarling, his massive muscles bulging and straining the seams of the straightjacket. Just as I swing my legs over to start descending the wall, an almighty ripping sound splits the air.

Emrys lets out a roar as his jacket tears right down the back, the fabric no match for his hulking frame once he really lets his strength loose. He looks positively feral, eyes wild and hair disheveled, as the tattered fabric hangs limply from his broad shoulders. I gulp, a spike of desire shooting through me at the primal display. That was hot as hell.

Focus, Kat!

Shaking myself out of my daze, I concentrate on clambering down the rope netting on the other side of the climbing wall, racing across the sand as soon as I reach the bottom. I just barely reach the next course when a thud sounds behind me. I whirl around to see Emrys crouched on the ground, having launched himself clear over the top of the towering obstacle thanks to his newfound freedom.

His burning gaze locks with mine, muscles rippling and tattoos flexing as he rises to his full impressive height like Arnold Schwarzenegger from the Terminator. A purely male, victorious grin curves his lips before he starts prowling towards me, movements smooth and powerful like a jungle cat.

"Oh, it's on now, Kitten," his gravelly voice rumbles.

I feel my own lips curving in response, competitiveness surging hotly through me. I give him one last challenging look before taking off down the beach once more. We still have over half the course ahead of us, and I have no intention of relinquishing my lead easily.

My feet pound the sand as I race towards the next obstacle—a pit filled with wet cement and dotted with unstable floating islands made of wooden planks and cinder blocks. I hear Emrys gaining on me, his footfalls thudding rhythmically behind me. Gritting my teeth, I leap onto the first slippery plank, arms pinwheeling to keep my balance.

The plank bobs and sways under my feet and I nearly fall into the thick, gray muck below, but somehow manage to stay upright. Hopping quickly to the next floating platform, I chance a glance back. Emrys has made it onto the first island and strides towards me with agile grace, completely unfazed by the unstable footing.

His eyes blaze with determination, making my pulse spike. I push forward, bounding from plank to block as they dip and sway. My toes cling to the wet edges. In my periphery, I see Emrys leaping instinctively from spot to spot, never losing momentum.

With a final desperate hop, I clear the cement pit, stumbling onto blessedly semi-solid sand. But my lead over Emrys is shrinking rapidly. I scan the beach ahead, spotting rows of half-buried tires laying ahead that we have to hop through like an old-school obstacle course.

Sucking in a breath, I plunge forward. My calves burn as I high-step awkwardly through the massive tires. The sides grab at my ankles and feet like cement-filled shackles, trying to slow my momentum. Still, I refuse to falter.

Behind me, I hear a grunt and dull thud followed by Wilder's voice shouting "Aw, dagnabbit!" Guess he didn't have much luck with the floating platforms. At least it'll slow him down.

After what feels like an eternity of awkward tire-hopping, I finally clear the obstacle and risk a glance back at Emrys. He's abseiling the buried tires with easy lopes, his long strides eating up the distance between us. I whirl back around, ready to push myself harder, when suddenly my foot catches on a rock hidden beneath the sand.

I go down hard with a startled, "Oomph!", biting a mouthful of sand. Before I can scramble up, a broad hand clasps my upper arm and Emrys effortlessly tugs me to my feet.

His lips quirk upward as he steadies me, his hands lingering and swallowing the small of my waist. "What's the matter, Kitten? Finally meeting your match?"

I narrow my eyes, defiance surging hotly through me. Through sheer stubbornness, I ignore the pleasant tingles radiating from where his fingers still grasp me.

"Not a chance. I'm just getting warmed up," I retort, jerking out of his hold. Emrys' golden eyes gleam approvingly as he chuckles deeply.

Without another glance back, I sprint onward towards the next insane obstacle, more fired up than ever to claim victory over these infuriatingly tempting men.

My lungs burn as I race towards the next obstacle–a rickety rope bridge suspended over a pool of…nope! Fuck no!

I stagger backwards at the sight of hundreds of mice darting to and fro in a massive tin pit. My heart starts to pound erratically, my mouth going dry as fear slices like acid and razor wire up my spine. I’m going to kill Annabelle. She knows the only fucking animal in the world that I’m afraid of is mice–don’t ask me why. They’re just creepy.

Shouts sound from behind and I glimpse Wyatt trailing Emrys by just a few strides, his refined composure long gone, as surely as his straight jacket is.

I plunge forward without further hesitation, my feet slapping the wooden planks even as my entire frame shakes in fear. The bridge sways wildly with each step, ropes creaking. Glancing down at the mice infested pit makes my head spin so I focus straight ahead.

About halfway across, the entire bridge jerks violently. I fling my arms out for balance with a yelp. Sneaking a peek back, I see Emrys pounding the planks right behind me, his weight making the unstable bridge dip and sway sickeningly.

Gnashing my teeth, I push forward but the creaking ropes make my strides more tentative. I'm forced to grip the sides white-knuckled as the bridge pitches like a boat at sea.

Suddenly, Wyatt emerges onto the pitching bridge, face set in grim determination. Emrys is forced to slow his pursuit as Wyatt's added weight compounds the chaos. The three of us cling precariously to the ropes, the bridge seesawing wildly like a sadistic amusement park ride.

Through pure adrenaline and stubbornness, I finally stagger my way off the death-trap bridge and onto the blessedly immobile sand, but I only make it a few feet before Wyatt overtakes me in a blur.

"Pardon me, baby," he tosses back over his shoulder, eyes blazing with challenge. I gape dumbly for a heartbeat before Emrys blows past me as well, his big body brushing tantalizingly against mine.

Indignation overrides my shock and I spring forward, chasing after them furiously. Ahead lies the final obstacle–a mammoth water slide ending in the ocean surf. Wyatt and Emrys scramble up the ladder neck and neck.

I dash up right behind them, leaving no inch uncontested. We cram onto the narrow start of the slide together, bodies pressed tight, wet and breathing hard. For a suspended moment we're frozen there, gazes locked as anticipation hangs thickly in the salty air.

Then Wyatt's eyes gleam recklessly and he tackles me, plunging us into the slick tube. We hit the slide in a tangled heap, cries of surprise mixing with exhilaration as we careen down wildly, completely out of control as we leave Emrys to leap after us.

It's a wet, frenzied plummet full of flailing limbs and chaotic shouts. We burst from the slide in a soaring arc, hitting the ocean with an impressive splash, the cool water momentarily shocking the air from my lungs.

We break the surface, sputtering, searching the beach for a sign of the victor. My father stands on his platform, megaphone raised, laughter booming across the sand through the speakers.

"Well, folks, looks like for the first time in Sharpe history we have ourselves a tie! Give it up for Kat and Wyatt!"

A tie? I push wet strands of hair from my face as I stare at Wyatt in disbelief. His stormy eyes hold the same bewilderment as hoots and shouts sound from my family gathering along the shoreline.

Before I can fully process this unexpected outcome, Emrys erupts from the slide in a graceful arc, cutting through the gentle waves as he resurfaces. I'm struck momentarily breathless by the sight of him rising from the azure waters like Poseidon himself, wet skin and tattoos gleaming enticingly.

Emrys scans the beach, taking in the reaction before his burning gaze locks with mine. I flush under the intensity of his stare. Slowly, sensually, he licks a stray droplet from his lower lip, the promise of something sinful blazing in his golden eyes.

Desire spears through me, my body reacting viscerally to the heated look. My attention is snatched away as a hollering Wilder careens into the ocean with his straight jacket still tying his arms together. He lands in what must be a painful flop into the water before surfacing with a loud groan of anger.

“Dagnabbit!”

Giggling, I start swimming for the shore on shaky legs, Wyatt matching my strokes beside me, Emrys on our heels, and Wilder trailing with an awkward armless doggie-paddle. As we emerge dripping from the surf, my chaotic family descends, everyone talking and shouting over one another.

Wyatt seems utterly unbothered, exuding a calm confidence despite the unexpected outcome. His stormy eyes blaze with hunger as they rake over my soaked body in a way that makes my pulse skyrocket.

When his heated gaze finally meets mine, his lips curve in a seductive smile. "What an invigorating race," Wyatt murmurs, his usually refined tone dropping an octave. "I do so enjoy seeing your competitive fire."

His hand comes to rest possessively on my lower back, fingers splaying tantalizingly on my bare, slick skin. My breaths come faster, desire coiling hotly at his subtle dominance on display.

Before I can fully compose myself, Aunt Beatrice's indignant voice bellows out. "A tie? This is an outrage! We demand a tiebreaker!"

A chorus of agreement rises up around us as my family members nod enthusiastically. Leave it to the competitive Sharpes to be unsatisfied with anything less than definitive victory.

My dad rubs his scruffy chin thoughtfully as he surveys Wyatt and I. "What do you say, kids? Up for settling the score?"

Wyatt's stormy eyes gleam wickedly and his hand presses more firmly against my back in silent challenge. His touch and palpable eagerness makes my pulse flutter erratically. But the competitive streak bred into me rears its head, unwilling to back down from a challenge.

I lift my chin and fix my father with a resolute stare. "Name your tiebreaker."

Dad grins approvingly at my fighting spirit. "That's my girl." He looks around at the gathering crowd of family members. "Alright folks, any suggestions for a worthy deciding challenge?"

"A rematch through the obstacle course!" One cousin shouts.

Aunt Beatrice scoffs loudly. "Boring!"

"A dance off!" Annabelle calls out enthusiastically.

I shake my head vehemently. No way am I dancing in front of everyone right now.

"Oooh, how about a breath-holding contest?" Another cousin suggests.

Before I can protest that inane idea, my dad claps his hands decisively. "Perfect! We'll hold the tiebreaker right there in the ocean. Last one to come up for air wins."

Groans of disappointment sound from a few family members, but most seem appeased. Dad gestures the two of us towards the gentle waves we just vacated with a grin. Wyatt's hand slides temptingly around my waist, tugging me closer to him.

"How intriguing," he murmurs silkily. "I do hope you've been practicing your breath control, baby. I'd hate for you to get...light headed."

His suggestive words combined with the heat of his palm skimming my bare waist make me bite my lip to hold back a whimper. Dammit, Kat! Now is not the time for lightheadedness of any kind.

Drawing myself up, I subtly lean into Wyatt's hard chest. "I was on the varsity swim team in high school, baby. My lung capacity is not to be underestimated."

Wyatt's eyes darken at the nickname, clearly affected by the double entendre.

I twist away, wading into the water with him on my heels. Once we reach chest height, we both turn and look at each other as my dad begins the countdown.

“Are you ready?!” He bellows to a crescendo of Sharpe cheers and shouts. “Three!”

Wyatt’s stormy eyes flash, one brow cocking up in challenge.

“Two!”

My tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip, his gaze following the movement as he steps even closer to me until we’re almost touching.

“One…”

He grins as his hand, hidden by the cover of the water, skims up the inside of my thigh and my breathing stutters.

“Go!”

I fill my lungs as quickly as I can and dive beneath the surface of the water, the beat of my stuttering heart like a bass drum in my ears. At the sandy bottom, I find a big rock and pick it up, letting it hold me under the waves as I try and fail at finding a calm center.

Come on, Kat! You used to do this for ages back in the day. You cannot let him beat you, no matter how downright tempting he is!

I jerk in surprise when something brushes my leg, and Wyatt comes into view, his stormy eyes searching mine. My heart drums faster against my ribs as he moves closer, the waves lapping against us both. Warmth radiates with each inch he draws nearer, liquid fire coursing through my veins until I can feel him everywhere. His hand moves ever up my thigh, sending electric shocks of pleasure racing through me.

Desperation grabs onto me as I fight to remain anchored, desperately clinging to the rock in my lap. An electric shiver races up my spine as Wyatt's skillful fingers continue their tormenting journey, caressing and stroking until I become a trembling mess.

Ripping my rock away from me he pulls me against him and coaxes me to wrap my limbs around his powerful frame. Without thought I obey, practically begging for him to take control.

My fingers dig into his scalp, my knuckles turning white, as I take in the intensity of his stare. His palms grip my legs with possessive strength, sending a surge of electricity through me that has my entire body on fire. My heart races and I arch further into his hold, his smirk of satisfaction sending a wave of want crashing through me.

My lungs are starting to ache for air, spots dancing at the edges of my vision, but I refuse to give in to my body’s demands. Distantly, I know he’s trying to win as much as I am, but the hunger in his gaze is a mirror to my own. Neither of us want to surface from our brief escape from the world.

The moment of anticipation seems to last an eternity, until finally Wyatt's lips graze mine beneath the waves, intensifying the fire burning within me. My lungs ache for air, but I strain closer, desperate to prolong this stolen moment. His hand trails up my thigh as he deepens the kiss, skilled and commanding. I cling to him mindlessly, my body crying out.

Just when I think I'll pass out, the instinctual need to take a breath overwhelms me. I break away from Wyatt with a frenzied exhale that sends bubbles of air shooting to the surface, my limbs heavy as I kick and follow. Breaking the surface, the sun's glare blinds me as I gulp oxygen greedily. My family's distant cheers reach my ringing ears.

Wyatt emerges beside me, droplets clinging to his unfairly gorgeous face. His stormy eyes blaze with satisfaction. "Well played, babe," he murmurs silkily.

I manage a rueful smile, still catching my breath. "I put up a good fight at least."

Wyatt steps closer, backing me up towards shore. "Indeed you did. But now I believe you owe me a...favor." His deep voice caresses the word, his meaning clear. Desire coils hotly within me.

We emerge from the waves to a crowd of hollering family members congratulating Wyatt on his victory, even as Wilder and Emrys stand back, their arms crossed and faces blank.

When my family finally disperses, returning to the crazy obstacle course, Wyatt turns to me once more, ignoring the two men still hovering nearby. “Dinner.”

“What?” Not what I was expecting him to say.

“Dinner tonight. Just me and you. I know it’s not a dangerous hike in the jungle, or exciting ziplining and cliff diving. But it will be fun. That’s what I want for winning.” His eyes implore me to consider his offer. There’s even a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

“Are you asking me out on a date? Like a real one?”

He nods and my heart starts to skip. A real dinner date, just the two of us? After everything that's happened–everything still simmering between all of us–the notion fills me with equal parts longing and unease.

I can see the fragile hope in Wyatt's stormy eyes, can sense this means more to him than just fulfilling a competition's prize. But with my feelings in such a tangled knot, can I offer him the same?

"Okay," I hear myself say softly, despite my doubts. "Dinner. Just us."

The smile that lights up Wyatt's face makes my breath catch. He looks so different like this–unguarded, happy. The stern control that usually defines him nowhere to be seen.

"Wonderful. Be ready at seven," he says warmly. Then he turns and strides off down the beach, confidence in every step.

I'm drawn from staring after him as Wilder sidles up next to me, a muscle feathering in his jaw. His cocky grin is dimmed, his cobalt eyes stormy as they follow Wyatt's retreat.

"Well, I sure hope you two kids have yourselves a nice, boring dinner date," he drawls with forced lightness.

I know it's a careless barb meant to sting, to reassert his carefree reputation after his clear defeat today. But I also glimpse the envy and frustration simmering beneath his flippant tone. Whatever this thing is between them all…it just got kicked up a notch.

Sensing the confrontation brewing, Emrys moves closer, tattoos rippling as he crosses his arms over his broad chest. His golden eyes bore into me, possessive and simmering with desire not fully conquered.

A tense beat passes where we all stand frozen in place, the tangled dynamic as complicated as ever. Before it can escalate further, Annabelle comes bounding over, shattering the tension.

"Don't be mad about the mouse bridge!" She pleads dramatically before sweeping me up into wedding talk.

I let myself get distracted by her enthusiasm, doubts still nagging within me. I know things are shifting, boundaries blurring further. And I still don't know if I'm ready for where it may lead.

But as anticipation and nerves flutter within me at the thought of my dinner date tonight, one thing is certain—my tangled feelings for these tempting men are only continuing to grow, whether I'm ready for it or not.

Chapter 27

My heart pounds erratically as I stand outside the bedroom door, straightening my collar for the tenth time. I raise my hand to knock, pausing just a moment to gather my scattered nerves.

Tonight has to be perfect.

When Kat opens the door, the sight of her steals my breath away. She's radiant in a simple black dress that hugs her curves enticingly.

"Hi," she says a bit shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You look beautiful," I tell her sincerely.

A hint of pink graces her cheeks at the compliment, those bright ocean eyes warming as she takes me in. "You clean up pretty nicely yourself."

"Shall we?"

As we walk, I catch a subtle vanilla note teasing my senses that makes me ache to run my fingers through her silky hair.

"So, where are you taking me?" Kat asks. "Somewhere fancy?"

"It's a surprise." I press my palm subtly to the small of her back as we walk together. Even that innocent touch sends sparks skittering through me. "But I think you'll enjoy it."

I watch the lights play across her delicate features, highlighting her beauty, as we head through different halls and backrooms of the resort. We make small talk, but it's not strained or awkward. Kat is just so easy to talk to.

We finally reach a door, and I open it to reveal one of the chef's kitchens. Realization dawns on Kat's face as she takes in the impressive space.

"We're cooking dinner?" She asks in delighted surprise.

"I rented out the kitchen just for us. It seems being associated with the notorious Sharpe family has some advantages. That and the fact that this is only one of like seven fully equipped kitchens." I’m rambling. Why am I rambling?

The tight ball in my stomach loosens at the wide smile on her face.

Maybe this is the perfect way to indulge her adventurous spirit in my own way.

"Well then, chef, show me what we're making!" Kat's eyes sparkle brightly, joy chasing away any lingering hesitance between us.

I lead Kat over to the expansive kitchen island where fresh ingredients and utensils are laid out and ready. "I was thinking we could make pasta from scratch," I suggest, gesturing to the mound of flour and dishes of eggs. "Followed by chocolate soufflés for dessert."

"Ooh, Chef Wyatt is getting fancy on me," Kat teases, yet her eyes shine with anticipation as she surveys the tools and ingredients laid out before her.

I chuckle, rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt. "I may have a few tricks up my sleeve."

As we wash our hands and get started combining ingredients for the pasta dough, an easy warmth settles between us. Cooking together feels natural, joyfully domestic.

Soon we've got a big ball of dough that Kat kneads enthusiastically, tongue poking adorably from her lips in concentration. Watching her enjoy herself so openly makes my chest squeeze. I'm seeing glimpses of the real woman beneath the mask tonight.

"Here, add a bit more flour," I say, dusting the counter.

Kat kneads energetically, sending up a cloud of white. Before I can react, she grins impishly and flicks flour right at me, dusting my shirt.

I blink down at myself in surprise, then let out a low laugh. "Oh, you're asking for it now."

Reaching across, I dip my hand in the flour and blow it in her direction. She gasps dramatically before retaliating with another flick, and soon enough, we're both laughing and stumbling around the kitchen throwing flour everywhere like children.

With a playful glint in her eyes, Kat grabs a whole bowl of flour and before I can move, dumps it over my head. I stand there stunned, face and head coated in white as she doubles over giggling uncontrollably.

"You look like a sexy ghost!" She gets out between bouts of laughter.

A surge of fondness rushes through me at her unrestrained joy, taking me by surprise.

Acting on impulse, I grasp her waist and tug her against me, enveloping her in a floury embrace. Kat lets out a surprised squeak that melts into laughter once more.

"Now who's the ghost?" I tease as she squirms in my arms, leaving white handprints on my shirt. Her eyes sparkle up at me, cheeks flushed with joy. She's never looked more radiant.

Time seems to stop as I stare down at the captivating creature in my arms. The only one who has even been close to tempting me in far too long. Losing all restraint, I dip my head and capture her lips in a kiss.

Kat instantly yields softly to me, as malleable as the dough we created together. As I lift one hand to cradle her delicate jaw, she sighs against my mouth, her body melting into mine. I keep the kiss slow and sweet, submitting to the flickering feelings she is somehow invoking in me.

I never submit.

When we finally part, Kat blinks up at me with eyes full of wonder. Her cheeks are endearingly pink and I can't resist brushing back a flour-dusted strand of hair from her lovely face. I have no idea when exactly it happened, but it has. Kat has opened up a part of me that I’ve long since closed off.

Which makes this absurd bet with Emrys and Wyatt even more personal. For me? It’s more.

And I intend to win.

"What do you say we finish making this pasta?" I suggest gently.

Kat smiles. "I'd like that."

As we return to our task, playfully bumping hips to music I have piping through the speakers, I know I'm right where I'm meant to be. We work side by side shaping the pasta dough into long, silky ribbons, and as we fall into an easy rhythm, I decide to take a chance.

"Tell me more about what made you get into animal welfare," I prompt gently.

Kat smiles softly, eyes faraway. "Growing up, animals were my best friends."

She pauses shaping the fettuccine, before blinking rapidly. I sense there's pain behind her words that she usually keeps locked away.

"You already know I’m a closet romantic. But I used to be very open back when I was younger. I thought every boy I met could be prince charming, until I was forced to realize that maybe romance was just far better in books. But animals? Their love far outweighs even the most well crafted story. They’re pure and unconditional in every way."

She shakes her head ruefully. "Pretty corny, I know. But even as a kid, I'd daydream about having my own wildlife sanctuary one day. A safe place for animals who need protection and care. They deserve it."

Her passion ignites something deep within me. My fingertips graze hers comfortingly. "That's a beautiful dream, Kathryn."

She gifts me a watery smile before taking a breath. "What about you? What drew you to law initially?"

I tie off the pasta batch, mulling over how much to reveal. "Honestly? My family pushed me towards it. Coming from a long line of esteemed lawyers, it was expected."

I meet Kat's earnest gaze. "But the real draw was the chance to help people in need. Fight for justice, you know?" I trail off with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Rather idealistic sounding now. The reality of cutthroat law wore me down quickly."

Kat bumps my shoulder gently. "I don't think it's naive at all. That instinct to protect is noble." Her approval means far more than it should. “So why Book-A-Boyfriend?” She switches gears and I clear my throat.

“It pays really well, and after living off my savings for too long and not really knowing what comes next, I needed some kind of income until I figure it out. So here we are.” I shrug and she smiles.

“Well, I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.”

We work in thoughtful silence for a moment, the mood turning comfortable once more. Soon we've got pasta dough drying on the racks and chocolate custard base blended for the soufflés.

As we wait for the oven to preheat, Kat surprises me by bringing up a new topic. "Want to hear about my most embarrassing high school crush?"

I grin, intrigued. "Do tell."

"His name was Devon and he was a senior when I was a lowly freshman," Kat begins with an exaggerated dreamy sigh.

I settle in to listen, enraptured as she regales me with the tale of her attempting to flirt with this aloof older heartthrob, only to get rejected at an utterly disastrous school dance. Her unrestrained giggles are contagious.

"Hey now, at least you were brave enough to put yourself out there," I point out. "My pathetic teenage self could barely speak around girls without stuttering."

Kat's eyes light up. "No way, the suave Wyatt, flustered by girls?" Her clear delight makes me want to tell her more.

Before I know it, we've swapped countless stories from our pasts, laughter and understanding flowing easily between us. With the desserts baking, we settle in and eat our pasta.

Across from me, Kat shakes her head, eyes crinkled with mirth. "I still can't believe you crashed your dad's car the day after getting your license. On a mailbox!"

"In my defense, that mailbox jumped right out in front of me," I protest playfully.

Kat's answering smile warms me to my toes. Her turquoise eyes shine brightly in the low light, joy erasing the usual guardedness from her delicate features. Seeing her so unguarded, so fully herself, fills me with quiet awe.

In this moment, the rest of the world fades away until it's just us. And I know my mind is utterly lost to this remarkable woman.

When our decadent chocolate soufflés are ready to eat, instead of going back to the table, we sit side by side on the floor, leaning against the wall as we dig in. As we’re licking the last remnants from our spoons, a comfortable silence blankets us. I know I should suggest heading back, end this date on a high note, but I find myself desperate to draw out our time together. There's still so much about her I'm longing to discover.

So I decide to take the biggest leap yet, praying she'll meet me halfway.

"Tell me about Brody," I say gently. "If you want to, that is."

Kat stills, soufflé spoon paused halfway to her mouth. After a tense beat, she sets it down in her bowl with a rueful smile.

"You just had to poke the bear, huh?" But there's no bitterness in her tone, only resignation.

Taking a deep breath, she spins the bowl idly on the floor. "Brody was my first big love. The guy who seemed to fulfill all my young adult beliefs in happily ever afters and soulmates and all that bullshit."

Despite her light tone, pain flickers in her gaze. "We got together in senior year of high school. I thought it was perfect. He was charming and sweet. Gave me lavish gifts and took me on super fancy dates."

She shakes her head, lips twisting. "Meanwhile, he just saw me as a trophy more than a real partner. He liked that I came from a successful family. I was beautiful. I could give him bragging rights among the elite he was rubbing shoulders with. I was young and naive and blinded by the illusion. Everytime he hurt me, or let me down, he manipulated me until I was chasing him once more."

My chest aches for her, knowing too well how cruelly love can deceive us. Unable to stop myself, I reach out and clasp her hand in silent support.

Her fingers curl gratefully around mine. Buoyed by my touch, she continues softly. "Right at the end, I caught him in our bed with my best friend. He didn't even try to hide it, just gave me that infuriating smirk and asked me what was for dinner. Then…kept on fucking her."

Rage ignites within me on her behalf. "What a bastard."

Kat huffs a mirthless laugh. "I broke his nose and had both of them arrested for breaking and entering. It was my apartment after all. Petty but satisfying,” I shrug. “Anyway, it was a painful lesson but it woke me up. Showed me I shouldn't ignore red flags or give someone power over my self-worth. Never again."

Her eyes flash with remembered defiance before dimming once more. "But it did make me wary of letting anyone in too deep again. Easier to keep things light, avoid messy feelings."

She lifts one shoulder self-consciously. "Pretty pathetic baggage for an almost thirty year old, I know."

"Not at all," I counter gently but firmly. "We've all got battle scars from past heartbreaks. They don't define you."

Kat smiles softly, squeezing my hand in wordless thanks. After a moment, she fixes me with a searching look, her eyes so open and trusting it makes my breath catch.

"What about you?" She asks. "Tell me your story."

I blow out a breath, trying to temper the lingering ache that surfaces whenever I think back on my greatest failure in love. But for her, I'll be brave enough to revisit even painful memories.

“I was married for seven years,” I admit, eyeing her to see how she reacts, but she doesn’t even blink. “I told you about my job as a lawyer, but not all of it. I defended a man once, who I truly thought was innocent of the…ahem…assault charge he was accused of. Everyone did, really. I won the case and he was free.” I pause, staring off into the distance behind her, refusing to read whatever is written on her face.

“About a week later, he murdered someone and during discovery, evidence was brought to light that he was not only guilty of that, but of the assault that I got him off of.” Pain claws up my throat, threatening to choke me, but I shove it away and push forward. “I quit that day. Walked away and never went back. My wife…she left me two months later because I refused to go back. She told me I wasn’t providing the lifestyle she was accustomed to anymore, among other things.”

Kathryn makes a wounded sound, gripping onto my arm tightly, and I glance up in surprise. Righteous fury decorates every one of her features. Fury for me. Her compassion after hearing my darkest shame is a balm to old wounds.

“What a bitch!” She sneers adorably on my behalf and my heart pangs in my chest. “You want me to have her arrested or something? I swear it’s cathartic.” Her eyes light up as if picturing doing just that and I chuckle, leaning into her.

"You’re adorable when you get all protective." Her cheeks pinken, but she doesn’t look away.

“I swear I’ll do it. I know people,” she practically vows.

“I believe you,” I hum, glancing down and rubbing a circle on her thigh with my free hand. I can practically see the pulse of her rapid heartbeat beneath the delicate skin. “You know, after her, I never felt even a spark for someone else,” I confess quietly. "Until you."

Kat's eyes widen, but I don’t give her a chance to respond, closing the distance between us and capturing her lips in mine. She submits so beautifully, just as I knew she would, her entire body going slack as she falls into my hold.

I pull back, nipping at her bottom lip. “Ready to head back? I have it on good authority that we’ll have the place to ourselves.” My voice is rough, thick with need that I know she can hear. She knows what I’m really offering.

Her eyes are glazed, and she bites her bottom lip before nodding once.

Perhaps she doesn’t need to know that I tracked her sister down and begged her to distract Emrys and Wyatt for the night. They’re probably busy busting ass for the bride–to help with wedding stuff or with the next Sharpe family escapade.

No. I’ll keep that for myself tonight.

At her acquiescence, I grin, grabbing her and throwing her over my shoulder. She squeals before erupting into giggles. “Wyatt! I thought you were supposed to be the gentleman!”

I surreptitiously palm her ass, pretending to be adjusting my hold on her. “Well where did you get that idea? I am still a man, pet.” My fingers skim closer to the area between her legs and she moans at the combination of my teasing and the nickname.

I make quick work of rushing us back up to our suite, striding straight through the empty living space and to the bedroom, kicking the doors shut behind us. She lets out a squeal as I toss her on the bed before she’s flipping over and pushing the hair out of her face.

I grin down at her wickedly from the end of the bed.

“What’s your safe word, pet?”

Chapter 28

Now, normally I might be hesitant to sleep with a man after just having sex with a different man like five hours ago, after having slept with three men at the same time the night before. But not tonight.

Not with Wyatt standing at the end of the bed looking like that. Saying things like that. After a night like that.

Who can blame me?

What’s your safe word, pet?

I’m in trouble. I know what it means. I’ve dabbled in that world before. Though most interactions have been terribly lacking. But when it comes out of Wyatt’s mouth, with his near-black eyes as he gazes hungrily down at me like I’m his newest obsession? Well, shit. I feel like I’m about to get a crash course in everything I’ve missed out on.

Thank God, I’m open to pretty much everything.

“Mercy,” I croak, my throat working to create sound at all.

His grin widens to a devilish smile, eyes darkening impossibly, and he nods approvingly. “And why mercy, pet?” He begins to unbutton his shirt, each move methodical and deliberate. Slow, even.

“Because I won’t ever beg for mercy.”

What the hell did I just say? Oh shit. I’ve read way too many dark romances. I’m not sticking to my sitcom boundaries.

Oh well. It’s fucking hot.

"Is that right?” He chuckles darkly and I nod, licking my lips as my gaze drops lower and lower down his body. A rumble emanates from his chest, his shirt finally coming loose and slipping off his shoulders to the floor, revealing his muscled torso that makes my mouth run dry. His slate gray eyes pin me in place, filled with heated promise.

“That’s good. Because I won’t ever give it.” He kicks off his shoes and unbuckles his belt, tugging it loose from the loops agonizingly slowly. I try to catch my breath as it falls to the floor and I can see his hard length straining against the front of his pants. The fabric does nothing to hide the impressive length of him, and I bite back a moan, fisting the blanket beneath me.

He shucks his pants and steps forward, leaving him in just a pair of deliciously tight boxer briefs. My eyes fly up to meet his again and he smirks.

"Strip," he commands. His tone sends a shiver down my spine, toes curling in anticipation. This polite, polished man has a deliciously dominant side I'm aching to fully unleash.

I obey instantly, fingers flying over the zipper of my dress. Wyatt circles the bed like a prowling panther as I reveal more skin, until I'm kneeling completely bare before him. His gaze trails over me possessively, drinking in my nude form.

"So lovely," he murmurs in approval. Then his eyes sharpen, jaw tightening. "But not nearly marked up enough yet."

Before I can react, he grasps my hips and flips me onto my stomach. I gasp as he yanks my wrists together behind my back, securing them firmly with some kind of cloth.

"This will have to do for now," Wyatt rasps as he finishes knotting my makeshift restraints. Already I can feel my pulse quickening, my core growing slick.

His weight settles over me, pinning me down against the silken sheets. I whimper as he nips the sensitive skin of my shoulder almost painfully before sucking a mark there. His stubble rasps deliciously against my hyper-aware flesh as he brands me with open mouthed kisses and sharp bites.

By the time he pauses to survey his work, I'm trembling and soaked, each mark tingling on my flushed skin.

"There," Wyatt murmurs in satisfaction. "Now everyone will know you're mine."

I let out a sharp gasp as his hand suddenly cracks down on my bare ass cheek. The sting instantly morphs into dark pleasure that has me writhing beneath him. His hand just barely grazes over my folds, finding me dripping in response to his ministrations. He chuckles again and clicks his tongue before withdrawing once more, and I whine before I can stop myself.

"Count them," Wyatt orders sternly.

"One," I gasp out. His hand strikes me again.

"Two!" I cry raggedly, the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure pushing me higher. Again and again he spanks me as I struggle to remember to count each blistering smack through the haze of blissful torment.

By the time we reach ten, I'm a panting, begging mess, my ass burning deliciously. Wyatt's large hand smooths over the sensitized skin almost tenderly even as his weight still pins me down.

"What a good girl," he praises, voice rough with obvious arousal. "You were made for me.”

“Yes,” I whimper. “Please, Wyatt…”

He hums approvingly, and the sound echoes through me like an electric shock as he reaches for the nightstand drawer. I feel him shift on the bed until I feel his hand dipping between my legs, fingers delving into my slick heat.

“So wet for me…”

He rubs a thumb over my clit and I cry out, struggling in the confines of the restraints. He moves away again, reaching for something else, but the anticipation has me tightening up around his fingers reflexively. I hear the blunt click of a cap and feel the cool liquid dripping over my skin. Before I can even process what it is, he’s spreading the liquid over my ass and back, massaging the oil into my skin until I’m panting even harder.

“Relax, pet.” He breathes, moving his fingers over my lower back almost soothingly.

I gasp as the pain begins to fade, the oil spreading warmth over my skin. He spreads my legs, and I groan as his fingers slip inside my pussy, stretching me. A moment later, something cold is pressed against my clit. I bite back a yelp as I feel him wrapping something around the base of the toy before I feel his weight shifting on the bed. I'm still too dazed to fully understand what's happening until he's giving me a warning command.

“Don’t move.”

I stiffen, suddenly realizing that I'm now spread out underneath him, completely immobile and at his mercy. And rather than fear the realization, I feel my body come alive, anticipation and arousal pulsing through me. The thing on my clit starts vibrating and I cry out in shock. "That’s a vibrator, pet," he says conversationally. "It's going to keep you ready for me, all night."

"Yes!" I nearly sob, trying to move into the vibrations. "Please! Wyatt, please!"

"Almost, pet,” he chuckles darkly. His hand moves and I hear a second vibrator snap on. Then I feel it, the tip of the toy nudging at my entrance. I try to brace myself even as I wiggle, desperately trying to get more of the delicious pressure.

“Now,” he rumbles.

The toy fills me in one quick thrust, and I feel my cunt spasming around the thick head. I let out a keening cry as he grabs my hips and lifts them high and in place for him, thrusting slowly at first. Soon, the toy is buried in me, and I'm desperate for more.

His hand is rough as it grips my hips and he begins to use his other one to thrust in earnest, the toy pulsing deep inside me in time with his movements. I scream as he hits my g-spot, pleasure and pain swirling together until I'm lost in a sea of sensation.

“Beautiful,” he rasps, his voice filled with arousal as he watches me thrash against the sheets. “So fucking perfect.”

I can barely hear him through the haze of lust, and I can't focus on anything but the delicious pressure building up inside me, my body tightening almost painfully. I can feel my orgasm hovering just out of reach, driving me higher and higher until I'm a writhing mess beneath him.

I feel his cock twitch against my skin, and I can't bite back the needy sound that escapes me. "Wyatt, please!"

"Please what, pet? What do you need?" He doesn't stop the tortuous thrusts of the toy, in fact he seems to only pick up the pace with each word that leaves his mouth.

It's both way too much, and not enough all at the same time.

"You. I need you!" The words leave me on a strangled cry as he hits a certain spot that has me contorting in place like I'm being exorcized.

"Beg and you shall receive," he chuckles before letting go of the toy in my cunt, leaving it in place, and spreading my ass cheeks apart. The head of his cock nudges at my rear entrance and shock freezes me in place as he presses a soft kiss to my spine. “Shh, pet. Trust me. Just relax and relish the burn…”

And with that, he begins to push into me, his cock barely fitting past the tight ring of muscle. I let out a strangled scream as the pain has me feeling like I'm a live wire. He pauses often, allowing me to adjust to the feel of him inside me every delicious inch at a time.

The burn is almost too much. It's overwhelming. Destructive. But soon the burn begins to morph, to blend with the sensations of the vibrator still wreaking havoc on my clit. The pleasure pushes in, relaxing me, and I can feel my body opening up to him.

"That's it, pet," he praises. "Surrender yourself to me."

With one final, powerful thrust, he seats himself in me completely, and his guttural groan mingles with mine. "Yes! Such a good fucking girl."

A moment later, he finally begins to move, and I'm a panting wreck as he thrusts into me, my body so full I can barely breathe. Every time he pulls back, it feels like he's tearing me apart, and every time he slams back into me, I feel like I'm being stitched back together. He moves faster, the toy inside me buzzing as he thrusts, driving me higher and higher until I'm crying out, the pleasure spilling through me in waves.

“Yes, pet. Take my cock," he growls. "Take all of it."

I clench around him, and he grunts, grabbing my restrained arms and using them as leverage as he forcefully slams me into him over and over again. I'm screaming. I'm crying. I'm nothing but the debilitating pleasure.

"Come for me, pet," he growls. "Come as I fuck your perfect little ass."

I do. I come so hard I can't even form words as I simply choke and thrash against the sheets. My pussy clenches down, pulsing around the toy as waves of pleasure rip through me.

He doesn't stop. There's no reprieve. He's relentless as he pulls me flush against his chest, brutally fucking me where no man ever has before, his hand latching over my throat and cutting my screams short.

"Again!" The command sends me spiraling straight into another climax, one even more powerful than the last, as my body clenches down around him, his cock buried deep inside me.

"That’s it, pet," he soothes. "That’s it. Just let go."

I'm still coming down from my last orgasm when he pulls the toy from my cunt, leaving me clenching around nothing. He removes the one on my clit as well, turning it off before untying my arms.

"Shh, pet. Let me take care of you," he soothes. "Relax and enjoy."

He shifts us until our bodies are pressed together and we're lying on our sides, without even a fraction of an inch separating his body from mine. He settles into a slow, smooth rhythm inside me as he strokes my clit, bringing me to the edge of another orgasm, but holding me right at the precipice.

I'm trembling, my thoughts wild and random as he switches from savage and dominant to practically loving in his movements. Each stroke is methodical and smooth. It's like a dance, his body moving flush against mine as his hands explore every inch of my flushed and sweaty skin.

I reach back and tangle one hand in his hair as he impales me completely, swiveling his hips in a way that has me seeing stars. My other hand claws at his hips where we're connected as he continues smoothly circling my clit with one hand and practically worshiping my curves with the other.

My breathing is erratic as I writhe against him, my hips rocking and following his movements, begging to be put out of my misery.

"Please, Wyatt. Please," I manage to choke out, chasing oblivion.

"Anything for you," he promises, lifting his head and turning mine towards him to capture my mouth in a long, drugging kiss, swallowing every sound I make as his tongue tangles with mine. He thrusts two fingers into my pussy and drags his palm over my clit as his tongue tangles with mine, thrusting me straight over the edge once more.

This time when I come, it feels like my very soul is cleaved in two, before being stitched back together in the most beautiful pattern imaginable. I'm shuddering against him, his name a broken, breathless chant on my lips as he kisses me senseless.

I'm still riding the wave of pleasure as his hips begin to stutter, this time he follows me into the dark oblivion with deep, guttural groans low in his throat. He empties his seed inside of me, wave after wave of heat coating my insides, only prolonging the pleasure until he thrusts one final time as deep as he can go.

It's then that I feel him finally collapse against me, and we lay there, a tangled heap of limbs and sweat. He releases my lips and trails tender kisses down my neck. One of his hands trails along my skin, a soft, reverent touch that has my eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss, as the other tangles and plays in my hair.

Time passes beautifully slowly, until he finally withdraws from my aching body, untangling us completely. I don't even have time to mourn the loss before he's gently lifting me in his arms and carrying me to the bathroom. He deftly switches on the water and sets me on the counter before stepping between my legs. His hands wrap around my ass and shifts me closer into his hold as he presses gentle kisses to the crook of my neck, sending shivers up my spine.

"So perfect." His whispered praise fills my chest with warmth, and his hand gently cradles the side of my head as he entwines his fingers in my hair.

The bathroom fills with steam as his lips capture mine, coaxing me into a gentle kiss that embodies a warm embrace, stirring something inside of me that I can't quite put a name to. Before I can think too hard, he's lifting me into his arms once more and stepping into the perfectly hot spray of water of the shower, his lips not leaving mine until he's placing me to my feet.

He spins me in place until my back is flush against his front. Pressing one final kiss to my neck, I hear the cap of a bottle snapping open before his hands move slowly and methodically through my hair, working in small circles. Teasing each strand between his thick fingers, a sigh of ecstasy escapes me as his hands continue their exploration tenderly, washing the thick suds from my hair. I draw in a shaky breath, his touch sending shivers of awareness through me.

He's touched pretty much every inch of my body already, but this slow exploration makes me feel entirely new again. My eyelids grow heavy, closing under the onslaught of sensation from each careful stroke of his fingers along my scalp as he applies conditioner. When he finishes working it through, he rinses it away before moving on to wash every inch of my exposed flesh.

Despite being slippery with soap, his hands are still careful as they slide over my body, and I feel cherished in a way that's foreign and addicting at the same time. Turning me to face him, his slick hands slide down my back, his fingertips trailing over every dip and curve until he finally cups my ass in his hands, drawing me flush against him.

He towers over me, his shoulders tall and broad, using one hand to cradle my face as his mouth moves to mine. The kiss is slow and unhurried as he caresses my body with his other hand, leaving no inch of skin unexplored.

By the time he's finished, I'm boneless, leaning all my weight against his chest. He finishes washing us both down before turning the water off and reaching for two towels. He gently dries me first, then himself, before scooping me up in his arms. He carries me to the bed and lays me down gently before climbing in next to me and pulling the covers up over us.

With a gentle touch, he guides me so that my head is pillowed on his chest, his arms curled around my waist and his legs tangled with mine.

"Sleep," His command is gentle, yet unyielding, and I find myself obeying without thought, only taking the time to snuggle closer into his hold before I'm lost to the darkness.

Chapter 29

The silence between me and Wilder is stifling as we finally make it back to the suite well past midnight. Kat’s sister is a task-master through and through, working us to the bone on inane wedding tasks. My hands are still sore from tying little bows on a thousand favor bags.

At least it kept my mind off the fact that Wyatt's been alone with Kat this whole time. No. Who am I kidding? It’s been eating at me all night. I grind my teeth, jealousy burning bitter in my gut. No doubt he's used the opportunity to get his claws deeper into her.

Well, not if I can help it.

As we step inside, I sense Wilder's hackles rising as well, noticing the conspicuously empty common area. My hands tighten into fists, rage simmering barely leashed beneath my skin. The smug bastard better not have touched what's mine.

We approach the bedroom door silently. I grab the handle, meeting Wilder's gaze. His jaw ticks but he nods. Bracing myself for what I'll find, I turn the knob.

The room is cloaked in shadows, the shapes of the bed just visible. I creep closer, my stomach dropping. Wyatt has Kat curled possessively in his arms, her dark hair splayed across his bare chest. Their nude forms are tangled together beneath the sheets. The visual confirmation feels like a physical blow.

I want to roar and rage like the beast within. To tear them apart and erase every intimate caress of his from her silken skin. White hot fury surges through me as I envision Kat's cries of pleasure for him, the way she must have yielded so sweetly under his skilled hands.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder, the grip bruising. I whirl with a snarl but Wilder holds me firm, cobalt eyes blazing. He inclines his head sharply towards the door and I force down the instincts howling for violence. Breathing raggedly through flared nostrils, I follow him from the room.

As soon as the door shuts silently behind us, Wilder rounds on me. "This changes nothin’," he grits out tersely. Though his casual facade is cracked, anger simmering beneath the surface. "We’re not out of the running yet. Let Wyatt get comfortable thinkin’ he's won."

Wilder's lips curve in a ruthless smile. "All the better to see the cocky bastard fall when Kat finally picks one of us in the end."

I nod begrudgingly. As much as I want to tear Wyatt limb from limb right now, I need to play this smart if I'm going to win Kat for good.

"’Sides, she's already addicted to what I can give her," Wilder continues arrogantly. "I just have to remind her who really lights that fire in her blood."

I step closer, using my size to loom over him intimidatingly. "Bold claims for someone striking out so far," I snarl.

Wilder doesn't back down, meeting my glare fearlessly. "Please. We all know you're trailin’ behind here, silent stalker boy."

My hands fist again, longing to put the cocky asshole in his place. But reacting blindly is what he wants. So I force myself to turn away, muscles coiled painfully tight.

"We'll see who's trailing when all is said and done," I throw over my shoulder. I don't wait for his reply, striding back into the common room to brood alone in the dark. Wyatt may have won this round, but the game is far from over. And when I finally claim victory, his defeat will be absolute.

I sink onto the couch, the darkness of the suite seeming to mock me. How could I let Wyatt get the upper hand like this? Restless rage courses through me as I picture him smugly holding Kat, thinking he's secured his place at her side. Laughing about how easily he outmaneuvered the competition.

My hands clench, nails biting into my palms hard enough to draw blood. I welcome the pain, letting it sharpen my fury. Wyatt has no idea who he's fucking with. When I set my sights on something, nothing stops me from conquering it fully.

And I will conquer Kathryn Sharpe, in every possible way. I will lay claim to every sweet moan and pleading cry I can rip from those plush lips. Have her trembling and begging beneath me as she realizes no other man could ever satisfy her so completely.

Just thinking about sinking into her slick heat, about those turquoise eyes clouded with desire for only me, has my body hardening with lust. I adjust myself roughly, jaw clenched.

Tonight changes nothing.

Tomorrow, I go on the attack. No more holding back or letting Wyatt dictate things. He wants to up the stakes? Then I'll unleash the full force of my focus on Kat until she's consumed by thoughts of only me.

Mid-morning sunlight filters into the suite hours and hours later, but does nothing to pierce the dark storm clouds of my mood. I sit at the dining table after a restless night–and morning–of planning, black coffee untouched before me as I wait shirtless and wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. Muscles coiled in readiness, poised for the confrontation ahead.

Ever since that moment after our jungle excursion I’ve been examining this entire situation, and I’ve come to a conclusion. I like Kat. It took me off guard at first. I’ve never truly been intrigued enough by a woman to get past meaningless sex, much less even briefly consider the idea of more.

But with Kat…it’s different.

She understands me, sees past all my silent, brooding displays and touches something in me. She’s as dedicated to animals as I am, sharing my passion instead of looking down on it. Sure, everyone loves animals in some way, shape, or form. But not everyone understands the need or drive to dedicate their entire lives to them. To be fascinated by all the meaningless details over the smallest of creatures.

She does. I do.

It’s just…meant to be.

Let her keep seeking meaningless thrills with that reckless cowboy, or romance with the polished lawyer. Her passing infatuation with them will fade soon enough. But the inferno between us, that all-consuming blaze of something more...that will never be extinguished.

She can deny it all she wants, but her body and soul recognize the truth—she belongs to me. For once I claim something fully, it’s mine forever.

She’ll know it soon. They all will.

I feel it when she awakens, the charged silence shifting subtly. Moments later, the bedroom door opens and she freezes when she sees me sitting there, hugging her robe tighter around herself. I remain unmoving, letting my penetrating gaze rake over her disheveled hair, kiss-swollen lips, and the telling flush on her cheeks.

Mine.

Wyatt appears behind her, clad only in low-slung pajama bottoms. His steps falter briefly when he notices my presence, irritation flashing across his features before they smooth back to neutrality. He glances around for a moment, seeing Wilder still sleeping soundly on one half of the large couch before his eyes flick back to me.

"Good morning," he says evenly, resting his hand on Kat's lower back. I track the movement with narrowed eyes, imagining snapping each finger until he never dares touch her again.

"Coffee's fresh," I reply flatly. I catch the unease swirling in Kat's gaze as she glances between us. Wyatt guides her closer, every motion proclaiming his claim over her. He pulls out her chair in a gentlemanly fashion that’s completely at odds with the smoldering possession in his eyes when they rake over her.

He thinks he's secured his prize. But I'm just getting started.

Pushing up from my chair, I circle around until I'm standing right behind Kat. I place my palms flat on the table's surface on either side of her, caging her in. She sucks in a sharp breath as I lean down, lips nearly grazing her ear.

"Sleep well, Kitten?" I rumble low, noting her pulse kick harder. Wyatt straightens, knuckles white around his mug. I hide my satisfaction, focusing only on her.

"What do you want for breakfast?" My breath ghosts across her neck as I reach around her for the fruit platter. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips when I deliberately brush against her, the fabric of her robe the only barrier between her flush skin and mine. I pick up a juicy strawberry, twirling it between my fingers.

"Here, let me," I murmur. Bringing the ripe fruit to her parted lips, I watch avidly as she bites down, pink juice staining her full mouth. I have to clench my jaw against the urge to crush my mouth to hers and savor that sweetness.

Not yet.

Wyatt's composure visibly frays as I continue hand-feeding Kat, my body caging her in. I make sure to caress her plush bottom lip on every pass, heat sparking in my veins at each graze of her tongue against my skin. Her breaths come faster, teeth sinking into the fruit harder under my heavy stare.

When she finishes the last piece, I finally straighten, trailing my fingers along the elegant curve of her neck. Her turquoise eyes are clouded, lips parted enticingly.

Perfection.

I sink into the chair beside Kat, ensuring my thigh presses against hers. She tenses at the contact, cheeks still endearingly flushed.

Ignoring Wyatt's warning stare, I take her delicate hand in mine, bringing it to my lips in a heated caress as I fix her with a smoldering look, satisfied when her lips part on a soft gasp.

Wyatt is practically vibrating with anger, but he controls it. "Perhaps we should give Kathryn space to eat in pea-"

He's interrupted by the dinging of the elevator right before it opens. Kat's sister barges in, zeroing in on our tense table as Wilder finally stirs awake on the couch.

"There you are! C'mon, the family's gathering for the fort tournament." She takes in the situation with a raised brow. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," I turn to smile coldly at Wyatt. Annabelle glances between us all before shooting Kat an indecipherable look that Kat returns. A few moments pass full of their silent communication before Annabelle sighs and then simply turns and leaves as quickly as she came.

With her exit, we all race to get ready as quickly as we can after the late morning start, Kat taking the room and leaving us three guys to get ready around each other. We all do our best to ignore each other, but it’s almost impossible. Wyatt has stepped up the game, not even mentioning whatever Wilder managed to do yesterday before the obstacle course.

I think we all know though.

Which means I really am trailing behind.

But not for long.

The tension in the elevator is stifling as we all stand crammed together a short time later, the air simmering with competition. Kat stands next to me, her delicate frame nearly swallowed between my hulking body and Wyatt's muscular build. I glare over her head at him, irritated by how casually possessive he's acting after their little tryst last night. Letting his fingers trail along her arm, leaning in to whisper God knows what in her ear.

I resist the urge to shove him away, to wrap my own arms around her luscious curves and stake my claim right here. But I know patience is key. I will have my moment with her again soon.

Wyatt meets my stare evenly, a subtle challenge in his stormy eyes. My fingers twitch with the need to wrap around his throat and squeeze. To watch that arrogant composure crack.

Wilder leans casually against the elevator wall, grinning at some private joke. His eyes spark with mischief as he waggles his brows at Kat. She bites her lip, fighting back a smile. The sight stokes the flames burning within me.

I want her smiles to be only for me.

The elevator doors ding open. Taking a deep breath, I follow the others out, focusing on each slow inhale and exhale. I can't let my rage override strategy. Not when there's so much at stake.

We join the massive gathering of Sharpes mingling noisily in the grand reception hall. Kat stands tensely between Wyatt, Wilder and I while her father takes the small stage, microphone in hand.

"Welcome, Sharpes!" Roger bellows enthusiastically. The crowd quiets in anticipation. "Today's family competition is...fort building!"

Cheers erupt around us. Tables are wheeled in covered in piles of cardboard, tape, rope, blankets, pillows, poles, art supplies, and so much more. My competitive drive ignites, muscles tensing in readiness.

"You'll have three hours to construct your fort with your team. Then we tour and judge each creation," Roger explains. "Winning team gets a weekend stay at the Sharpe family cabin! All expenses paid, of course."

I glance around at my reluctant teammates, determination steeling my features. We will win this, no matter what it takes. When Kat seeks sanctuary in our winning fort, away from the others' eyes, I'll finally make her mine again.

Wyatt's hand grips Kathryn's shoulder as he leans to murmur in her ear. She blushes prettily and my fingers curl into fists, nails biting crescents into my palms.

Not if I can help it.

Roger blows an airhorn signaling the start. I spring into action, hefting piles of cardboard towards our designated build space. When I pass by Wyatt, I accidentally turn too fast, smacking the pile into his face.

"Oh, pardon me, didn't see you there, mate," I quip insincerely. Wyatt glares but says nothing as I continue on, satisfaction burning in my veins.

Petty? Yes. But I don’t give a fuck.

Kathryn strides past us to a corner of the room, studying the supplies. She’s already got a plan in mind and I can’t help but admire her sharpness. Her intelligence is as attractive as her beauty.

Wilder joins her and my hackles rise in warning again, further stoked by the fact that he's laughing and she's smiling at whatever ridiculous joke he just told. Jealousy courses through me like an electrical current.

Without glancing back, Wilder turns and saunters over to me, his gaze heavy on Kat’s retreating figure. I glare at him until he finally meets my eyes and I arch an eyebrow expectantly.

His lips curl into a smirk as though he knows exactly what I'm thinking. “She's absolutely delectable today, isn't she?” He drawls in that annoyingly cocky way of his. “Maybe I'll-"

I step forward, cutting him off with a glare. “We build the fort first, then you can make your moves. Kat likes to win,” I growl. Wilder laughs and shakes his head, holding up his hands in surrender before turning and heading back to her.

My jaw clenches as I watch them from across the room, her smile brightening as they discuss plans for the fort. Jealousy grips my throat like a vice, but I know I have to stay focused on winning this competition.

Wyatt joins in as well and starts pitching in ideas for the fort's design. She wants it to look like a fantasy castle. He jokingly mentions building a moat and Kathryn giggles. My heart twists painfully in my chest at the sight of her eyes crinkling with laughter.

I flex my fingers, seething silently as they all flirt shamelessly and build themselves up around her like walls of their own accord. But I won't let them have her. I march across the room and push the table directly between them and her, drawing all eyes to me.

"We'll build the moat, but it'll be filled with cotton balls instead of water," I declare. "Much easier to build, yet it will still make a statement."

Kathryn's eyes light up as she looks up at me.

"That's a great idea, Emrys!" She exclaims then turns back to her plans with a small smile on her face that only I can see.

My heart swells slightly in my chest, and I can't help but grin back at her before we all set to work on our castle. Kat takes charge, directing us with clear instructions on what she needs for each section. Despite the chaotic energy of the competition, a comfortable silence lapses between us as we work side by side constructing her vision piece by piece.

She has a way of bringing out the best in people, inspiring them to work harder and better than they thought possible. Even the three of us. If only for a short time, and only for her.

The walls climb steadily higher, the moat is dug, and the cotton balls are fluffed and piled in like fluffy clouds. My eyes never leave Kathryn the entire time, watching her delicate fingers deftly handle each piece of cardboard, tape, and rope with surprising strength and precision. I can't wait to get her alone in our finished fort.

At one point, I catch a glimpse of Kat out of the corner of my eye. Her hair falls in loose waves around her face as she concentrates on the fort's design, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. I have to physically turn away to reign in the desire she unleashes in me so effortlessly.

Instead, I channel my energy into building the best damn fort this competition has ever seen. I pile cardboard on top of cardboard, shaping and bending them to create turrets and towers until it's standing tall and proud.

I'm inside the admittedly, and surprisingly, massive interior of our fort, tucking a string of fairy lights into place in one of the sectioned makeshift rooms when Kat makes her way in with a stack of pillows and other supplies.

Wilder and Wyatt are nowhere to be seen and I feel a flicker of satisfaction at having her to myself for a moment.

"Emrys, this is amazing," she breathes as she sets down the supplies. "We might actually win this thing."

"We will," I reply confidently, my eyes locking onto hers. "With you leading the way, how could we not?"

She blushes at my words and I feel a surge of pride at having made her feel special. I move closer to her, reaching out to tuck that strand of hair behind her ear like I've been wanting to do all day. My fingers brush against her skin and she shivers, her eyes fluttering closed.

I take a step closer, our bodies now inches apart, and I can feel the heat of her breath on my face as I lean my head down towards hers. I give her a brief moment to pull away if she wants to, but she takes me by surprise when she slams her lips to mine.

It's soft and tender at first, but then it deepens, becoming more urgent as we both give in to the fire between us. She's so responsive, melting against me, and I lift her up into my arms so she can wrap her legs around my waist.

I kiss her deeply, hungrily, as if I'd been starving for this moment since the last time I held her. Our tongues tangle, our hands roaming each other's bodies. The fort around us fades into the background as the only thing that exists is the two of us, lost in a world of our own, until reality slaps me in the face in the form of a crash outside the fort.

It takes every ounce of inner strength I possess, but I manage to break the kiss, breathing roughly as I grip her hair and gaze down at her darkened uniquely colored eyes.

"You and me. Tonight. Seven o’clock." My words come out low and gravelly and she peruses my face with her pupil-blown gaze as if searching for something, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Okay," she whispers, causing my heart to jump in my chest.

I know I’m grinning like a fool, my heart full of her, and I can't help but lean in and capture her lips with mine once more. It's brief, my hand tangling in her soft hair, and then I'm pulling away once more.

"We better get back. We've got a competition to win," I wink, doing my best to not fall prey to the hunger that threatens to overtake me.

Kat nods, her red lips swollen and beautiful as she slowly disentangles herself from me.

I watch as she straightens her shirt and smooths her hair out. She's so damn gorgeous, especially post-kiss. I brush my lips across her cheek before turning to leave, ignoring the dark looks the other guys give me when I exit the fort.

It doesn't matter. Let them be jealous. Kat is mine.

Chapter 30

My gaze instantly zeroes in on Kat’s obvious kiss-bruised lips as she and Emrys surface from the damn fort. I shoot a glare his way, my face heating and chest clenching almost painfully.

I don’t do feelings. Not the real, deep ones anyway.

Yet, here I am, actually experiencing them for the first time since I was smitten with Alice back in the third grade. She stomped on my heart as surely as she stomped on the bundle of daisies I gifted her before offerin’ her a kiss. Of course, that’s probably not even considered real as far as relationships go in life. But little eight year old me sure thought it was and he vowed never to let a cootie-ridden girl hurt him ever again.

But Kat isn’t a girl. She’s a woman. The most beautiful there is. With just enough of a wild streak to get my blood pumping, and just enough of a level head to keep me grounded.

Since I was a boy, I’ve stayed on the wild side. I live for the thrill in life. Whatever is next to get that adrenaline rush. To feel more alive than most ever do. But I guess I never took into account what a real woman can do to a man.

I don’t think there’s anything more dangerous and reckless than fallin’ for a woman.

And of-fuckin’-course when I finally start to, there just has to be two others competin’ for the same catch. Yeah, I’ll admit it. Kat has started a fire under my ass. In my chest. Wherever these damn feelings are comin’ from. Whatever.

This is more than just a bet or a game now.

Kat is mine.

These two knuckle-fuckers are just another set of barrels to steer around. I don’t know what their endgame plan is, but I know mine now. I’m playin’ to win. I’m playin’ for keeps. I’m gonna win the girl and take her home to meet my momma.

She’d love Kat. And Kat would love her and my home. I can clearly picture her out on our ranch, wrangling the cattle and kicking that godawful rooster, Earl, in the stupid face when he gets all riled. That little shit refuses to die, and he’s a huge dick. Every other rooster we have only attacks when provoked. Earl will ambush you for absolutely no reason and he’s scrappy.

But I just know that Kat will handle him like a pro. Like she wrangles me effortlessly. Like she somehow stays poised and confident beneath the attention of three hot-blooded men who stare at her like we’ve been starving for weeks and she’s a perfectly grilled steak.

God, she’d look beautiful sippin’ sweet tea on the porch swing out front. Exquisite riding Buttercup out in the pastures. Damn heavenly in the morning sunlight peeking through the blinds of my bedroom window with her hair fanned out around her.

I don’t do anything half-assed. So, I suppose it’s only fittin’ that when I really want a woman, I’m already practically fixin’ to get down on one knee.

Now…to win the lady’s heart.

Chapter 31

Bullshit!

Excuse my language. My lack of decorum. My lack of restraint. I’m not usually so crass. But watching Kathryn surface from the inside of the fort with obvious signs of being thoroughly kissed slices me right through the chest.

I don’t know what Emrys and Wilder want from this, but dammit. I want Kathryn.

I’ve been trying to deny it from the moment I met her, but it’s grown far too difficult a lie to keep telling myself. She captivates me in ways no one ever has. She challenges me, pushes me to be better, to try harder. She brings me out of my hardened, stiff shell.

Her soft, romantic heart has my baser instincts taking over and makes me want to rage at the world and practically bare my teeth at anyone who could possibly pose a threat to her. To us.

I’m way too old to be fighting over a woman. It’s beneath me. Or…I thought it was.

But Kathryn is the epitome of everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. She’s confident and calm. She’s brave and reckless in the best ways. She’s got a heart bigger than anything I’ve ever witnessed before. She’s the perfect woman.

Last night a door was opened. Hell, every window and entrance to my heart was thrown wide open. The evening was perfect. And I’m not just talking about the sex–though that was divine in and of itself–I’m talking about the conversation. The laughs. The whole damn thing.

I tried. I truly did. To keep my thoughts and hands to myself. Then the night with all four of us happened. Then the other guys refusing to back down. Then Kathryn…just being Kathryn. She’s tilted my world sideways so quickly, so effortlessly.

It’s too late now. There’s no way I can take it back. No reason I would want to.

This isn’t a game anymore. This is my life. And I want Kathryn in it. Forever.

Chapter 32

Red alert!

Red alert!

That’s now officially fifty texts sent to my sister in a row with the same message still going unread. The fort competition finished hours ago, but apparently the winner will be announced at dinner. Though, I really don’t care about any of it at this point.

I need my sister dammit!

She’s not in her penthouse, or at the beach, or fucking anywhere. Hell, I even checked my parent’s suite, facing an inquisition by a very curious and fidgety mother who has been too busy to poke and prod at my life for way too long in her eyes.

I barely made it out alive.

“Annabelle Bitch-Twat-Cunt Sharpe! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?!” I finally catch sight of the little shit tumbling out of a…supply closet with a disheveled Ethan in tow. “What are you, sixteen? Don’t you have an expensive, lavish penthouse to tarnish with your sexcapades?”

The two of them giggle as I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot impatiently.

“Oh relax. It’s just a bit of fun. You should try it sometime!” She tries and fails at fixing her just-sexed hair as they both walk up to me.

“I have. I did. That’s the problem!” I snark and Ethan snorts. When my gaze narrows at him, he tries his best to wipe away his smirk as I point my finger at him. “No. Don’t even try to act like you don’t know. My sister would die if she wasn’t allowed to spill everything to you about…well…everything. You’re in this now too! Til death do you fuckers part and that includes family!”

Done with my oh so eloquent speech, I grab each of their arms and proceed to tow them to the elevator that leads to their tower. The ride up is silent as I tap my foot erratically, waiting until we’re fully inside the suite before shoving them to the couch and pacing around the coffee table.

The one that conveniently reminds me of our game night that feels so long ago, but was only like…

Damn. It was only two nights ago.

Emrys. Wyatt. Wilder. All four of us together.

My breath catches. My heart stutters. My feet slam to a stop.

Shit, if I knew the only one bed trope worked this well in real life, I’d have done it ages ago. I’ll never be the same now. Even if none of this works out, I may very well start instituting book tropes into my dating life. Damsel in distress. Revenge. Rags to riches. Fake da-

Ah shit.

“Kat! Will you tell us what’s going on?” Annabelle pulls me out of my unintentional procrastination spiral and I suck in a breath before chewing on the dead skin on the side of my fingernail.

“I’m living in a real life romance novel, Demon-Doll. That’s what. And honestly, it’s a lot crazier than you picture when reading it.” At their silent, stunned gazes, I finally let out a sigh and proceed to catch them up to everything that has happened since I stepped foot in Cancun. Some of which they already know, some of which they don’t, but it all helps my brain to sift through all the events, so they can deal.

By the end of my little spiel, I collapse on the couch between them, laying the back of my hand over my face like one of those old-timey women in corsets who faint and whimper. There is a long moment of silence after I’m done as they process everything. I’m breathing heavily, sweat beading on my forehead, and I can’t for the life of me seem to calm my racing heart.

I’m not usually the sort of woman who can’t make decisions or figure my own shit out. Hell, I’m decisive, in control, and the head of the world’s largest animal sanctuary operation. Under my proverbial umbrella, I direct vet clinics, rehabilitation centers, and so much more. Hell, I’m even in charge of an official private investigation unit that targets black-market trading of endangered animals.

Yet, I can’t for the life of me untangle the nonsensical state of this situation. I can’t even get my head around it.

The silence is finally broken by a loud sound and I jump in place, confused and disoriented, until I finally realize what’s happened.

“Are you fuckers laughing at me?”

“Look,” Annabelle tries to say, but she immediately dissolves into another fit of giggles, her face red and eyes watering. Ethan is no better, but he at least tries to stifle his sounds behind his hands, which are covering his face completely.

I groan, collapsing back against the plush couch and staring at the ceiling, resigning myself to waiting them out. It takes far longer than I ever thought possible, with many moments of them seeming to be done before they exchange looks and it starts all over.

It’s official. They’re the worst.

Finally, after about ten minutes of them shamelessly benefitting from my predicament, Annabelle manages to find words again.

“Okay, let’s just…let’s just start with how you’re feeling.” Her now makeup smeared raccoon eyes probe my face and I let just enough of my vulnerability show. Her features soften as she smiles gently at me, urging me to open up.

“Fine.” I cross one leg over the other, letting it settle into a bounce that seems to help soothe my scrambled-egg brain and let my mind sift through everything.

“Let’s start with being overwhelmed,” I sigh. “Look, I’m not a stranger to male attention, but I am completely out of my depth with this level of male attention. All three of them look at me as if I hung the moon for them. Or at least that’s what it feels like. But that very well could be something my mind conjured up because I, myself, feel like they are the ones who hung the moon for me.”

Each interaction between me and the guys flies through my mind like I’m laying on my deathbed and forced to relive the biggest moments of my life. It’s a reel of heat, softness, adventure, and–yes–heart-stopping experiences.

“All three of them together that one time? Whew. It blew my mind. I seriously thought nothing else could top it. And then it was just me and Wilder and…fuck me. Then Wyatt later that night. Shit. And now I’m facing down a night with just Emrys and-” I wave at the air, totally lost for words.

I can speak in front of hundreds and thousands for charities and fundraisers, yet…

Look at me now.

“Which brings me to my next emotion…confused. I’m so at a loss, I could file bankruptcy for my brain.” They’re both thankfully quiet as I struggle to continue. “Even if we take the idea of them just having fun with me out of the equation, I still have no idea what to think. Wilder has a way of bringing out my fun side. The one I’m realizing got lost in transition from animals being my hobby, to being practically the last chance of survival for hundreds of species on the planet.”

I clasp my hands on my lap, wringing them together as my foot continues to bounce. “It was something I didn’t even realize was gone until I got it back. And now I never want to lose it again. Wilder did that, he gave me that piece back. So I for sure had thoughts that this is it, he might be something real afterall, all of his faux-inability to care aside. I know he’s deeper than just a thrill. I caught a glimpse of that, and now I find myself wanting to cultivate it, care for it, let it blossom until it’s in full bloom.”

I shake my head at my own ridiculous metaphors and avoid looking at Annabelle and Ethan. My pot has been boiling for ages, now it’s just spilling out without restraint. I can’t hold it back any longer.

“Then…Wyatt. God, he’s glorious, isn’t he?” It’s a rhetorical question, and I don’t need an answer, pushing forward without pause. “He’s all suave, calm, collected gentlemen in all things. Until you get him in bed. Then he’s just a force to be reckoned with. That sort of control and dominance? It’s my kink and I have no shame about it. It’s like the perfect balance with him. He makes me feel treasured. Understood. Seen. He predicts my needs and acts accordingly. Which could very well just be him being fantastic at his job. That was one of my requirements on that stupid form. But…there’s no way he’s that good, right?”

Another rhetorical question, which they blessedly don’t even try to answer.

“When it was just the two of us…I truly felt like that was something real. Like he could be a constant. Someone I could rely on and look forward to seeing every single day of my life. Which is stupid of me to even say after only a few days, but hey. Why stop the crazy train now? We’re already seventy-five percent through the journey to full blown insanity.”

When I pause for too long in my word vomit, Annabelle nudges me gently with her elbow. “Go on.”

“Then there’s Emrys.” I take a full deep breath, my chest expanding, even as my head seems to think that I’m struggling for oxygen. “I haven’t gotten him into bed alone yet, but I know that’s what’s coming tonight. Because…duh. And I’m excited for it. I want it! Even though I’ve already taken two other men to bed. Holy hell, the man is an animal! And you know how much I love animals.”

I chuckle dryly at that before continuing. “His attention is primal. Claiming in a way. Like my brain completely stops whirling and I dissolve into a cavewoman. Like I’d be totally fine with him throwing me over his shoulder and spouting one syllable answers for the rest of eternity.”

My smile is wide at this point, just picturing me, Kathryn Sharpe, behaving like that for even one day. “But beneath his gruff, silent exterior is a kindred spirit. He’s just as passionate and devoted to the animal kingdom as I am. And while I don’t typically embody my source of passion, he seems to thrive amongst creatures big and small. When we went on that jungle adventure, he knew things that even I didn’t. He came to life amidst the wild, like I do. And when he looks at me? It’s like his soul recognizes mine. Like they’re two halves to a whole. Which is impossible, because–again–it’s only been a few days and it could all be a mirage for my desert-lost, thirsty ass.”

I stop wringing my hands, instead resorting to crossing my arms across my chest again. “So yeah, I’m confused. Because when I’m alone with each of them, I can’t see or think about anyone else. Every single one of them draws my entire attention and doesn’t let go. Until I’m with the next. And that’s fucking terrible.”

I huff, letting my head fall back to stare at the ceiling again. It is a nice ceiling afterall. Vaulted and with a huge glass skylight. “But, then again, this entire conversation and inner turmoil could be completely moot anyways. There’s no way in hell they could possibly be as smitten as my romance-addicted bitchass. It’s just not reasonable.”

“Honey, I think reasonable flew out the window the second the four of you landed in bed together at the same damn time.” Annabelle chuckles as I groan. “I mean, think about it. I doubt any one of them has ever shared a woman with two other dudes before. It doesn’t happen outside of that porn you watch.”

“I don’t watch porn. I read it. Like a fucking lady!” I glare at her, but there’s no real heat behind it.

“Potato. Po-tah-to.” She waves me off like a bothersome fly. “I mean it. Have you even asked them what their intentions are with you?”

“Intentions?” I chuff. “What am I? My own overprotective father?”

She giggles as she shoves at my shoulder. “Well, we could always have Dad do it for you.”

“That…” I roll my eyes so hard I’m worried they will fall out of my head. “Is probably the worst piece of advice you’ve ever given. And you once convinced Naomi that a bowl-cut was in style.”

“She ate my surprise curly fry in my regular fries. You never eat someone else’s surprise curly fry. It’s a well known fact.”

I choke out a laugh as she glares not at all menacingly at her phone on the coffee table, as if she were ready to lay into the girl again for her food faux pas. She doesn’t look scary, but my sister is still definitely not one to be trifled with. Especially when it comes to her food.

“Ladies!” Ethan interjects, cutting off our moment and drawing both of our attention. “You’re forgetting that you have a perfect insight into the male mind sitting right here. You could just ask me, you know.”

And now we’re both laughing.

Ethan’s face turns stricken as I gasp for air. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh come on, Tin-Man. You’ve been up my sister’s ass since you hit puberty. How exactly are you going to help in this situation? You probably have no memory of what it’s like to be single. I swear, even before your balls dropped and you got your first pubic hair, you were following her around the schoolyard. You can’t possibly understand what it feels like to not only be torn between multiple people or what it feels like to not be completely in love with a woman.”

He groans, rubbing at his hair until it’s even more messy than it was before. “Very funny, Kat. So then, why am I here?”

“Because you were going to get the rundown as soon as I told Annabelle everything anyways. I figured I’d save her the trouble of translating it terribly–there’s no telling how she’d make me look–and let you hear it straight from the source.” I shrug, picking at a piece of dead skin on my pointer finger.

“Oh come on, Kat. Maybe he can help.” Annabelle goes to bat for her soulmate instantly and he smiles at her so lovingly, I swear he might just snatch her up and carry her off to bed again. They really are sickly sweet together.

“How’s that?”

“What time are you meeting Emrys tonight?”

My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “Seven. Why?”

“Well, you want some insight. And Ethan is really good at making friends.” She grins at him again. “Start with Emrys before they leave. He’ll be hard to crack, so you’ll have to start as soon as we’re done here.”

“Oh, good idea. Scott has a family of baby bunnies hidden in his room. I’ll tell Emrys I need help making sure he’s taking care of them.” He nods excitedly.

“Then Wyatt. He’ll probably be the easiest.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Too honorable to hide shit. I won’t even need a reason to corner him. I’ll just be honest.”

“Then Wilder. He’s, for lack of a better word, the wild card of the bunch. His reaction could go either way, so just play it by ear.”

My head swivels back and forth between them as I try and keep up with whatever shit they’re plotting.

“That’s true.” Ethan nods, his hand moving to rub at his chin as if deep in thought. “Ah, I got it. We’ll just use the bride excuse again. I think he’s far too nice to say no to you if you need him. Even if he’ll hate it. That’s if I need an excuse anyways.”

“Good one! I’ve got the perfect job for you to do anyways.” Annabelle’s eyes are lit up with a glow of excitement. As if this shit’s better than the fact that she’s in Cancun for her wedding. She’s crazy. “Now remember, do not even hint at the idea that you’re there to report back to Kat, but rather…as her brother-in-law and just looking out for her like family. Be as subtle as you can.”

“I got this.” And with that, he’s on his feet and racing from the room. Gone in the next blink of my eyes.

“What are we, in grade school again?” My eyes are wide as I focus all my attention on Annabelle.

“No, silly Kitty-Kat. If we were in grade school, I would have just forged your signature on a note that says: Do you like me? Circle yes or no.” I groan and she taps her chin in thought. “On second thought, that’s actually kind of cute. Maybe I should…”

I jerk forward and slap away her hand that was reaching towards her phone. “Nope. Not a chance in hell. This is bad enough. I’m almost thirty, Demon-Doll! Much too old to play these games.”

“Nah. I think when it comes to matters of the heart, it’s okay to lean on the people around you to be cautious and protect yourself. Even if it does seem silly.” Her face softens as she looks at me and I glance away, eyes burning. “Besides, I want to know what their intentions are too. It’s fine if you all four went into this knowingly and without expectations, but now that I can tell you’re starting to actually feel something outside of the thrill, it’s time to take shit seriously. And I have absolutely no problem in using my vast wealth to make a few playboys disappear if they fuck with my sister.”

“Shit, it must be dusty in here or something. You should probably call housekeeping about that.” I sniff, pretending to find a layer of dust on her coffee table with a swipe of my finger.

“Whatever you say, Kat. Whatever you say.” She leans back, kicking her feet up on the table in question, barely missing smashing my hand in the process. “So…”

“So...” I copy her movements and we snuggle closer together on the couch.

“If you had to choose right now, who would it be?” I groan, leaning my head on her shoulder as she locks her hand in mine.

“I can’t. And that’s the hardest part, I think.”

“Like, gun to your head, you have to pick or I’ll shoot you.”

“Why is it suddenly you with the gun, you bitch? I always knew you had it out for me.” She lets out a giggle and I join her.

“Come on. Who would it be?”

I stare down at our intertwined hands in thought before sighing.

“All of them. I want them all.”

“Is that another one of your book tropes?” She asks, and I chuckle, nodding against her shoulder.

“Yeah. Why choose.”

Chapter 33

We’re off to see the wizard. The…scary, hulking, silent wizard that could probably crush me in one fist. The fun song in my head switches as I catch sight of the imposing form of the man I want to find first sitting silently at the bar in dining hall…what…forty-five in this giant ass resort.

That’s fine. This is fine.

It doesn’t matter how easily he could destroy me, he won’t. Not just because of the dozens of witnesses I casually make sure are sticking around, but because of Kat. She’s practically been my sis-in-law for my entire life. She’s family. And I can tell, even if she can’t, that he would never risk hurting her in any way.

Hypothesis aside, I’m only here to confirm it for her. She’s the one that needs it. I already know. Annabelle already knows. What was that she said about them looking at her like she hung the moon? It was a decent enough description of exactly what they do. She’s just too insecure to see it when it comes to these things.

No. Not insecure. What’s the word for it? Ah, fuck it. She just second guesses shit like this because of the track record in her decisions in men.

Now, I can’t stop her from choosing the wrong ones, but I can do my tiny part as protective brother. Right? Eh, whatever. No one can keep that woman from doing anything she puts her mind to. Just ask her parents, Roger and Evelyn, the ones who ended up moving from a modern day Hollywood mansion, to the country just so they weren’t walking on top of all the animals she kept rescuing and bringing home. I’m pretty sure the HOA actually bullied them into moving, but they would have done it anyway. Never ones to dampen the passions their daughters had.

They’re great parents, better than my nonexistent ones for sure. Pretty sure those bastards forgot I existed the day I turned eighteen. Ah well, I’m better off.

Now I’ve got a whole family at my back. And a sister to protect. In whatever way my heart deems necessary. Of course, by heart, I mean Annabelle. I’m not whipped, but I do know my baby has a cunning, sharp mind that’s great for situations like these. I’ll follow her lead because she knows what’s best.

Alright, maybe I am whipped.

I mean, I could be sunbathing at the beach, or getting my round two in the supply closet, but here I am…ready to go full blown inquisition on a few fuckheads that need a smack upside the head. Which I have absolutely no problem doing. I’m untouchable for one. But…I’ve also never hesitated to have Kat’s back before. Why should I now?

Just as I’m about to make it over to Emrys, someone steps in my line of sight. His stupid, charming smirk dying on his lips as quickly as the waitress he was pawing at scrambles out of his grip and runs from the room at the interruption. His face pales as he sees who almost ran straight into him, his entire frame jerking back as if to get as far away from me as he can.

Brody.

Well, I did say that I never hesitated to have Kat’s back before. Even if she never knew about it. And let’s also say that Annabelle and Kathryn’s parents are the only people in my life who didn’t hold my past against me. They had to know about the kid from the wrong side of the tracks who has no problem getting into a little trouble, yet they only ever saw me for me.

Let’s also say that Roger was less than subtle about exactly what he thought should happen to Brody after he broke Kat’s heart that last time. No words were exchanged, but I’m not blind. I saw what his face said when Kat was in hysterics and finally caved and told us all about what she had endured at Brody’s hands.

So maybe he never laid a physical finger on Kat. But that’s not the only form of abuse someone can dole out.

I’ll plead the fifth if ever asked, but yeah…he got what was coming to him.

I’m honestly shocked he has the audacity to show his face here. Evelyn hates him as much as Roger and I do. She just has to save face to her many contacts and connections and was obligated to invite his mom. She even talked to us about it. She didn’t think he would actually show up, even if invited. We kinda all thought the same, so it was supposed to be a nonissue.

But stupid is just that…stupid.

He was also apparently dumb enough to actually book the long-term excursion–that was only supposed to be for the Sharpe Clan–instead of just coming for the weekend of the actual wedding event. He’s literally the only one here that isn’t a family member. Or, in my case, about to be one. Everyone else doesn’t arrive for a couple more days. And they’re all staying at the luxury cabins on the property down the road.

It makes me wonder what kind of strings he had to pull to make this happen. Or, most likely, what threats he had to dole out. I also want to know what exactly he’s trying to accomplish with Kat.

The stupid fuck never knows when to quit.

He opens his mouth as if to say something and I simply crack my knuckles, cutting him off immediately. He blanches, then scowls, before turning on his heel and striding out of the room.

I make a mental note to have someone check on the waitress he was obviously accosting and to remind security to keep a better eye on Brody. I’ll make sure to let Roger know everything that I saw as well. An extra pair of eyes won’t hurt, after all.

Getting back on track, I put Brody to the back of my mind and head over to Emrys. Maybe it’s the confidence that was bolstered by the reminder that I scare people too. Maybe it’s that I do feel safe behind the shield that Kat represents in this situation. Or maybe it’s that I simply somehow have a deathwish that I’m not aware of. But instead of simply saying something, or politely calling out to him, I saunter straight up to his side and slap him on his back as if we’re old comrades.

“Hey, friend.” If I say it aloud, maybe it’ll manifest itself before the giant fucking man-beast kills me. “What are you doing moping at the bar all by your lonesome?”

He glares at me, grunting in response.

I will not be afraid of the big bad wolf. I will not be afraid.

Still, I remove my hand from his back and slide into the stool beside him. And no, I did not slide it back to put another few inches between me and the menacing man, that was a total accident.

“Good talk.” I mutter, waving for the bartender and ordering one of those fruity drinks most men wouldn’t be caught dead drinking. Sue me. That shit is good.

Once I’ve drained at least half of it–totally not for liquid courage or anything–I finally turn back to the giant. “I was wondering if you’d help me out with something real quick.”

He stays silent, just barely glancing sideways at me in response.

“Annabelle and Kathryn’s cousin Scott found a bunch of baby bunnies without a mom and…well…Kat’s busy with Annabelle right now, otherwise I’d ask her. But I just want to make sure they’re okay. That he’s taking care of them right, ya know?”

He doesn’t need to know that Scott actually works at one of Kat’s vet clinics and is perfectly capable of handling some bunnies. But the ruse does the trick, life practically snapping back into his eyes as he turns his massive frame towards me.

“Where are they?”

“Right this way.” I hop to my feet, quickly checking my texts to make sure Scott confirmed the situation. A thumbs up emoji is all I got, but I’m pretty sure that means he’s fine with the plan.

Leading Emrys through the elevator ride and the many halls to Scott’s room, Scott opens the door after one knock, and Emrys pushes into the space without a word of invitation. Scott exchanges a look with me and I shrug, shaking my head. The brute sure isn’t one for manners. Scott simply nods and gestures for me to follow him in where we find Emrys already cooing over the makeshift bunny cage.

Okay, so maybe he isn’t cooing, but I’m sure this is his version of it.

Emrys immediately starts shooting question after question at Scott about the bunnies and I shove my hands in my pockets and lean against the wall behind me. I’m really starting to question whether this is going to go anywhere at this point. The bastard doesn't seem to want to stop his own interrogation so I can make room for mine.

He must run out of questions, and seems to be more at ease with the situation, and finally a wide-eyed Scott turns to me.

“Look, I uh…have somewhere to go. Can I just…” He steps towards the door and I nod that he can leave. Which he does. Quickly.

Emrys is still crouched and busy fussing over the bunnies, a tiny one clutched to his massive chest as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, and I think fast and snag a photo of him. I quickly send it to Kat with a caption saying target one acquired.

She’ll fucking fawn over that photo, I’m sure.

Done fucking around, I finally decide to take the leap.

“So, Emrys…” He doesn’t respond, but he straightens just slightly, so I know he’s listening.

I don’t think there’s a way to subtly slide this into a nonexistent conversation, so I decide to just go for it. “I gotta ask…what are your intentions with Kat?”

He jerks as if taken off guard, turning towards me, his tattoos contorting with every stiff movement. Yet, I don’t move from my casual stance.

“I gotta know. She’s family and she’s been hurt too many times before. So…now that things aren’t at all professional, I have to know what your plans are.”

He eyes me for a long moment, face stoic and not showing an ounce of whatever is running through his brain, until he finally speaks.

“She’s mine.”

Shit, I forgot he had a British accent.

“Okay, caveman. Let’s try again. Because Kat doesn’t belong to anyone.” I will not shrink away, no matter how scary his glare is. I use an old interrogation technique and just stare at him silently. It’s supposed to make the person being questioned so uncomfortable that they have to talk and fill the silence, but I’m not sure it’s going to work with this one.

Nope.

A full ninety seconds go by–yes, I counted–and I’m starting to feel like a suspect in an interrogation room.

“Oh come on, man. Give me something here.” I swipe my hand through my hair before shoving it back in my pocket. He grunts, turning back to the bunnies, his gentle handling a stark contrast to his brutish nature.

“I like her. She likes animals.” Well six words. I’ll consider it a win. But still…

“And?”

“Fine.” He finally growls almost angrily before putting down a baby bunny and rising to his full, towering height to face me down. “I like her. She’s the only woman who has ever made me want to explore something deeper. When I look at her, all I want to do is hold her in my arms. I picture myself making her coffee in the morning. Listening to her bitch about having a bad day at work. She makes me want to cuddle on a couch and watch whatever girly movies she likes, or listen to her ask me if her ass looks fat in a new pair of jeans.”

He practically rips his man bun out as he jerks at his hair out of habit, turning and pacing in a five feet area as if a caged animal.

“I want to go buy her tampons. Or adopt a dog, or two, or five with her. These are the things she makes me think about.” He turns and narrows a menacing glare on me, but this time I don’t even flinch. “Women are simple. Easy to avoid or turn away. Kat is something more. It’s like from the moment I first saw her, she burrowed into my chest and set up a nest.” He jams his thumb over his heart as if to punctuate exactly where she set up home. “I’ve never wanted to settle down. I’ve never fallen in love. But now? I’d gladly live a domesticated, suburban life if it meant I could do it with her!”

And now he’s yelling. If this were a cartoon, there’d be steam coming out of his ears.

“And what about the other two?” He jerks as if struck before answering a whole lot calmer. Like a deadly calm.

“What about them?”

“If they feel the same way. If Kat likes them too? What are you going to do?”

He grunts, but his gaze glazes over as if he’s now somewhere far away. Well, that’s my cue.

“Anyways. I gotta go. See ya later!” I turn and stride from the room, a muffled yell following my retreat.

“What did you mean too?”

I chuckle, picking up my pace to shake Emrys off my tail and pull out my phone to move on to my next target. Ignoring the messages from Kat, I send out a mass Sharpe alert to the extended family. It doesn’t take long at all for me to find out he’s at the resort gym and I make a beeline there. Throwing open the double doors, I scan the room full of top tier exercise equipment until I find him at the free weights.

Jesus Christ.

The old man is cut. Now that, I was not expecting.

Snapping a quick photo before he notices me, I send it to Kat with a text attached saying: target two acquired. She’s going to kill me. But, eh, Annabelle and I will have a great laugh about it later.

Without any preamble, I glide up to Wyatt and take a seat on a bench nearby.

“Wyatt. My man! I got a question for you.” A clang of weights hitting the padded floor follows my question and he uses a towel to wipe the sweat off of his face before turning to give me his full attention.

“I have an answer.” His gaze is wary but open, and I internally sigh in relief.

This is going to be so much easier than Emrys.

“What are your intentions with Kathryn?” His brows curl up, gaze unfocusing for a moment before a smile lights up his features. Weird. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen him genuinely and openly smile.

“My intentions? I see. This is the official brother questioning. Well, let me ease your mind.” He takes a long swig of a water bottle before sitting on the bench beside me.

“I like her. A lot. Maybe more so than should be possible given how little time we’ve shared together. I can’t say that it’s love yet, but I can quite easily admit to it heading there.” He sighs almost wistfully, and I’m frozen in place with shock. “Kathryn is a remarkable woman, is she not? She has this way about her that challenges you to be better, yet there’s nothing but love and acceptance wherever you are now. She’s an enigma in so many ways, and I can’t help but fall into her orbit as if she’s the earth and I’m just a moon. She’s fierce, yet soft. Bold, yet demure. Confident, yet modest. To be all those things at once? I don’t really think I had a choice but to fall for her.”

He goes quiet for a moment, and I stay silent until he can shift through the sand of his thoughts.

“My intentions…yes. I intend to date her. To stay with her. To follow her through whatever path she chooses to pave for herself. And one day, if she’ll let me, I intend to marry her.”

“Right.” I can’t deny that if I were a girl right now, I’d probably be swooning. Swooning. Is that actually a thing? Anyways. Pretty words or not, I wouldn’t be doing my due diligence if I didn’t…poke him a little.

“Yeah. Bold claim. But what about the other guys?” Wyatt’s jaw tights surreptitiously his hands balling into fists and I nod. “Yeah, the ones that affect you like that. What happens if they feel the same way? What happens if she likes them too?”

His face contorts as if thinking hard, or maybe like he’s smelling something bad, and he goes silent. Lost in his thoughts.

“Yeah, I thought so.” I stand, stretching out my back with an exaggerated groan. “I’d definitely figure that shit out before proposing for sure.”

Then I’m off, striding towards the exit with a grin. Okay, so maybe I am having a little fun.

“Wait! What do you mean if she likes them too?”

Oops. Sorry, bro. I’m already gone.

Alright, Sharpe Clan, where is Wilder? Swiping away Kat’s texts again, I smile when Annabelle's cousin Mary immediately sends a photo of Wilder surfing out at beach number five. I take off at a run, my stomach grumbling angrily at me about its lack of sustenance.

Soon, my boy. Dinner is soon.

Rounding a corner, I instantly know where Wilder is based on the gaggle of teenage cousins fanned out in bikinis giggling with their gazes aimed out at the ocean. Rolling my eyes, I walk straight up to the group of them.

“Go find something else to do.” I hike my thumb over my shoulder.

“Oh come on, Ethan! Don’t ruin our fun!” Mary instantly whines with a chorus of groans and moans from the other girls to back her up.

“Alright, well don’t blame me when Kat comes down here and catches you lot ogling her man.” They let out piercing squeals before grabbing all their bags and gear and booking it off the beach.

Yeah, Kat can be scary.

As I wait for Wilder to finish riding the waves, I pull off my shirt and soak in the sun as I text Annabelle with an update. She fires off rapid responses about doing her best to keep Kat distracted from her need to chase after me and put a stop to all this.

I glance up to see Wilder finally walking towards me in just his swim trunks, surfboard in hand, and dripping with water. His face is turned away from me, so I quickly snap a photo and shoot it off to Kat with the text: target number three acquired.

She will simultaneously hate me and love me in equal measures for all of this, I’m sure. But hey, that’s what family is for. Right?

“Hey, Wilder! Over here.” I catch his eye and he jogs over to me with his telltale smirk on his face.

“Hey, brother. What can I do for ya?”

“I just wanted to ask you something.” I scan his face for signs of anything. Not sure what. But the only thing I see is openness with just a dash of confused bewilderment.

“Alrighty, shoot.”

“What do you want from Kat?” He laughs as if I just told a joke.

“What do I want from Kat? I’m not sure what you mean by that one, kid.” Ignoring the kid comment, I push on.

“You’re crazy, but not stupid. You know what I mean. Kat’s like my sister, and I can tell this isn’t professional between the two of you anymore. So I want to know what your intentions are.” Maybe I’m pushing his buttons a little, but honestly? It seems like he’ll need far more than that to not be a jackass about this. He’s just too stubborn.

“Ah. You caught on to that, did ya?” He chuckles dryly, shaking out his shaggy blonde hair. “Well don’t worry. Kat’s a full grown woman and we’re just having fun. So why don’t you just…” He tries to wave me away and I narrow my eyes at him.

Why the insolent little…

Welp. Kat’s going to be pissed. There goes my temper. It flew in the form of my fist right into his face.

“Goddammit! What in the hell was that for?” Wilder groans from the sand pile he’s found himself in from the force of my hit.

“First of all, call me kid again and I’ll do worse. Second of all, Kat is family, and I have every right to ask you exactly what the fuck you’re doing with her. Thirdly, I will not just fuck off because you order me to. You’re here at my wedding. Or have you forgotten exactly who the fuck I am? Now, why don’t we start over before I go get Roger and let him in on this little situation so he can be the one to grill you about this shit instead?”

“Well fuck a penny silver then. Fine!” He groans and pushes to his feet before facing me again, looking far less cocky.

The thing is, I could see right past his bullshit from day one. Hell, he’s me from years ago. He’s a wild one, yes. Full of fun and confidence. Charm and swagger. Stubborn as a bull too. And while it’s not all a façade, it’s definitely a defense. He’s vulnerable beneath it all. He has hopes and dreams, and has probably been underestimated and knocked down too many times to count.

But he still needs a knock upside the head. It comes with being young.

“So…” I cross my arms, staring him down.

“I like her, okay?!” He spits a mouthful of blood on the sand. I didn’t think I hit him that hard. Oops. “I promised myself to never let a woman dictate who I am or what I do. To never let one get in enough that they feel like they can tie me down and call the shots. Yet, here we are, huh? I got Kat who somehow seared herself inside of me like a brand on cattle. I didn't even have a chance. I felt that shit before I could even see it myself.”

He’s practically yelling at me, but I let it slide.

“She’s feisty, ain’t she? Full of spirit and fun. She matches me move for move and never backs down. She never tries to calm me or control me, but rather takes the leaps with me. Yet, she still somehow manages to ground me, settle me in a way I’m okay with. Like she makes me feel…I don’t know…safe enough to slow down for a bit. To open up. Like she’s not trying to catch me off guard and lasso me into place. But more like she’s just willin’ to be there as a resting place. Somewhere calm for me to lay my head when the adventure ends. Is that what you wanted to hear, dammit?!”

He kicks at the sand before falling to his ass with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

“It sure is.” I nod, a smile overtaking me. “Now, what about the other guys?”

His head snaps up, his blue eyes glinting like metal catching the sun.

“Other guys…you mean the mute and the old man. Psht. They’ve got nothing on me.” But I see the flash of doubt on his features.

“Uh huh. But what if they feel exactly the same way you do?” He snorts, but I can tell he’s already lost in thought.

“I can take them,” is his half-hearted mumble.

“Yeah? And what if Kat likes them too?” I grab my shirt off of the hot sand, tossing it over my shoulder as I start striding away. “Anyways. See ya later! Thanks for the chat!”

It isn’t until I’m almost completely out of earshot that I catch his response.

“Wait! What in the hell do you mean too?!” I grin, pulling my shirt back on and clapping my hands once.

And my work here is done.

My reward? It’s dinner time!

Chapter 34

Doing my best to ignore the fact that I’m panting just from a short hike, I trail behind Emrys as we break through the last of the underbrush. Before us unfolds a scene straight out of a nature documentary–except it's real, and it’s ours for now. A waterfall cascades into a steaming hot spring, mist dancing in the air like flirtatious sprites. The sound of water thrumming against rock wraps around us in a soothing rhythm.

"Wow," I breathe out, unable to contain my awe.

"Right?" Emrys grins, his Nebula eyes reflecting the shimmering water. His dark hair is tousled from our trek, a few strands sticking to his forehead. He drops his backpack onto the grass and unfurls a blanket with a flick of his wrists. It settles on the ground like a magic carpet, inviting me to leave reality behind.

"Come on, have a seat." He pats the blanket next to him, and I oblige, feeling the soft fabric against my palms as I lower myself down.

"Emrys, this is...incredible," I say, letting my gaze drift over the serene landscape.

"Only the best for you, Kat." Apparently feeling more talkative for the night, his voice carries a playful lilt, teasing yet sincere. "I knew you'd appreciate the view."

"Appreciate? I'm half-tempted to become a full-blown nature photographer now." I laugh, shaking my head at the thought.

Wilder, with his untamed spirit, would probably encourage me to do just that. To throw everything away to chase whatever newest passion sparking to life. Wyatt, ever the observant one, would probably remind me about my ultimate passion. That I would never be happy with throwing away my life with the animal kingdom. Emrys, hearing both of their views, would probably meet them in the middle and tell me I can do it all. That I’m strong enough to carry the weight of any decision I make.

All very different.

"Hey, what's on your mind?" Emrys asks, nudging me gently with his elbow.

"Just thinking about how Wilder and Wyatt would react to this place." I shrug, my lips curving into a smile. "Wilder would want to explore every nook and cranny, and Wyatt would start planning how to build a cabin over there." I point towards a clearing across the water.

"Sounds like you've got them figured out," he chuckles, the sound tight and dry. "And what about me? What's my role in your little daydream?"

"You?" I tease, bumping his shoulder playfully. "You're the mastermind who brings it all together, the glue of the group."

"Glue, huh?" Emrys pretends to mull it over. "Sticky and messy, but essential—I can live with that."

We share a laugh, and for a moment, I'm caught up in the ease of our banter. There's something about Emrys that makes me feel at ease, even when my heart is a chaotic mess of competing desires.

"So, tell me something I don't know about you," he says, leaning back with his arms propped behind him.

"Something you don't know?" I ponder, tapping my finger against my lips. "Okay, here's one—I once tried to join my sister in ballet. I was tired of being the weird kid that brought toads and snakes to show and tell. I quickly realized I'm about as graceful as a baby giraffe on ice."

"Really?" His eyebrows arch in mock surprise. "I would've pegged you for a natural-born ballerina."

"Please," I snort. "The only pirouettes I do these days involve dodging life's curveballs."

His laughter is booming, gruff, and sexy in ways I didn’t think was possible. His entire body shakes with the sound, head thrown back and eyes shut. I can do nothing but simply gape at him open-mouthed and really hope I’m not drooling.

He’s usually so stoic, so reserved, that it’s like whiplash to see him let go like this.

“So, what was your first pet?” He finally turns back to me, switching subjects.

“A turtle named Booger.” I admit with a scrunch of my nose, causing him to laugh again. I still like the sound, even if it’s at my expense this time.

“And how exactly did that come about?” His eyes glint in the moonlight, seeming almost predatory, yet he looks nothing but open and relaxed.

“The name or the turtle?” I cock my head. “I can’t answer either. I was only like three. But I do know I tried to flush him down the toilet before my mom caught me. Apparently I was trying to save him and send him back to the pond he belongs in.”

“Ah, a child’s logic.”

“Yup,” I shrug, chuckling. “Apparently I was trying to save animals even back then.”

“I can see it.” His eyes tell me he sees more than just that. “So do you have any pets now?”

I shake my head sadly, “No. Since it’s just me at home, and I work so much, I just haven’t thought it was fair to bring an animal into that full time. I wouldn’t be able to give it the attention it deserves.”

His mouth turns down for a moment before he smirks. “But aren’t you the boss? Couldn’t you just…take them with you to work if there was no one else to watch them?”

Well, shit. I never thought of that.

Speechless, I can do nothing but stare at him in return. Getting lost in my thoughts, it takes me a second to realize he’s still watching me. His eyes are bright in amusement, but everything about him seems to soften as he gazes at me, pulling my attention and refusing to let it go.

“So,” I clear my throat, forcing myself to look away, taking in the assortment of containers he laid out on the blanket. “What’s all this?”

“Just a little something I had the chefs prepare.” He smiles widely, pride straightening his back. “I didn’t know if you’d be hungry or not. I didn’t see you eat much at dinner-”

“Agh. Don’t remind me about dinner!” I groan exaggeratedly. “Of course I couldn’t eat! We lost the fort competition to not only Annabelle and Ethan, but my mom and dad too! I will never live it down!”

“Well, to be fair, you were a little distracted during the fort building aspect.” He winks and I feel my entire face heat at the memory of our moment together.

Luckily, he doesn’t comment on it, and we dig into the picnic feast. Between mouthfuls, we swap stories like old friends. He tells me about the time he tried to learn how to play the ukulele, but kept snapping the strings every time he tried to strum it. I counter with the tale of my disastrous attempt at a juice cleanse that ended in a midnight raid on a twenty-four-hour pancake house.

Then, amid our shared amusement, a soft rustling from the underbrush catches Emrys' attention. His head tilts to the side, that playful spark in his eyes giving way to curiosity.

"Did you hear that?" He asks, setting aside a half-eaten sandwich.

"Hear what?" I pause, straining my ears, but all I pick up is the gurgle of the hot spring and the gentle swish of leaves.

"Stay here." Emrys rises to his feet, brushing crumbs from his lap. He moves toward the sound with the quiet confidence of someone who's not afraid to face the unknown.

"Be careful," I call out after him, a twinge of worry threading through my voice. "It could be another jaguar."

"Or a very ferocious rabbit," he replies without looking back, the humor returning to his voice.

I watch as he parts the foliage, his movements deliberate and gentle. There's a tense moment, a hush that falls over the clearing, and then a tiny mewl breaks the silence.

"Kat, come here!"

His voice has lost its teasing edge, replaced with something softer, almost awestruck. Curiosity getting the better of me, I scramble to my feet and hurry over to where he's crouched down.

Peering through the greenery, I spot a tuft of fur nestled among the leaves. A lost kitten, its eyes wide and scared, peers back at us. Its coat is as dark as the night sky, and it's so small, I can feel a protective swell in my chest just looking at it.

"Hey there, little one," Emrys coos, extending a hand slowly towards the kitten. It hesitates for a breath before inching closer, sniffing his fingers before allowing a tentative stroke. "Looks like we've made a new friend," he says, glancing up at me with those deep eyes that seem to pull me closer without even trying.

"Seems like it," I reply, my heart warming at the sight. The kitten's vulnerability, the gentle way Emrys interacts with it–it's a scene straight out of a romance novel, and I'm unexpectedly cast as the leading lady.

The energy between us shifts subtly, charged with something new as we share this tender moment. It's a connection, unspoken yet palpable, and it makes the air around us thrum with potential.

"Let's get back to the blanket," Emrys suggests, scooping up the kitten with care. "Our picnic just gained an extra guest."

"Sounds perfect," I agree, following him back to our spot by the waterfall, the flutter in my chest a mix of excitement for the unexpected turn the day has taken and the growing bond I feel with the man beside me.

Emrys returns, the orphaned kitten nestled securely in his arms. I can't help the grin that stretches across my face as he sets the tiny furball down next to me on the blanket. Its wide, curious eyes are a clear shade of moonlight, and something about its quiet, trusting gaze strikes a chord deep within me.

"Look at you, Luna," I whisper, the name slipping out naturally as if it's been waiting for this very moment. The kitten–Luna–mews softly, her voice a delicate note against the symphony of the waterfall.

"Perfect name," Emrys says, his approval warming me more than the balmy, tropical air. He's sprawled beside me, legs crossed, an easy smile playing on his lips that tells me he's just as taken with our new companion as I am.

I reach out slowly, letting Luna sniff my finger before she butts her head against my hand, demanding attention. Her trust is instant, and my heart swells with a protective tenderness. There's something magical about saving a creature together, about watching Emrys' large hands stroke Luna's small body with such care.

"Your turn," I tell him after a while, passing Luna into his hold. I watch, fascinated, as the kitten clambers onto his chest, kneading at his shirt with her paws before curling up into a ball, her purrs vibrating through the air.

"Looks like someone's made herself right at home," he chuckles, his gaze flickering up to meet mine. It's a look full of shared secrets and silent promises, the kind that makes my stomach flip-flop in the most delightful way.

"Seems like we're stuck with each other now. We’ll have to draw up some kind of custody agreement," I tease, nudging his side with my elbow.

"Stuck with you, huh?" He muses, a playful challenge lacing his tone. "There are worse fates."

We spend the next stretch of time lost in our own little world, with only the sounds of the water and Luna's contented purrs as our only soundtrack. Emrys and I alternate entertaining the playful kitten, and with every gentle touch and soft laugh we share, the connection between us solidifies.

It's not just the kitten drawing us together; it's the recognition of something kindred in each other, a pull that goes beyond words. And as Luna finally curls up in a ball on the blanket and drifts off to sleep, the soft moonlight dapples the ground, painting patterns of light and shadow across Emrys' face. He's watching me with those intense eyes of his, a smirk dancing on the edge of his lips that suggests he knows exactly what effect he has on me.

It's infuriating—and exhilarating.

"Care for another strawberry?" He asks, his tone casual, but there's nothing casual about the way his fingers brush mine as I take the offered fruit. A spark zips up my arm, setting every nerve ending alight.

"Thanks," I murmur, trying to sound unaffected, but the lingering touch is like a live wire between us. I can tell he feels it too; his hand hesitating before pulling away, his gaze holding mine just a tad too long.

I pop the strawberry into my mouth, the sweet tartness bursting across my tongue. But it’s Emrys' gaze that I'm feasting on, the way it flits from my lips to my eyes, heavy with something more than hunger for food. My heart thuds in my chest, a wild rhythm that matches the rush of the waterfall nearby.

"Kat, have you ever been swimming in a hot spring?" His voice breaks the charged silence, a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the air itself.

"Can't say that I have," I reply, the corner of my mouth lifting in a half-smile. "Why? Planning to change that?"

"Only if you're game." He stands, extending a hand to help me up. His palm is warm against mine, solid and reassuring. "It's supposed to be quite...invigorating."

The steam rises from the water's surface as we step closer, mingling with the mist from the falls, creating an ethereal veil that shrouds us from the world around us.

"Wow," I breathe out, entranced by the natural beauty of it all.

"Beautiful," he says simply, but when I glance at him, I realize he's not looking at the hot spring–he's looking at me.

"Very," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He steps closer, fingers still entwined with mine, and draws me toward the edge of the water. I can feel the heat radiating off the spring, wrapping around us like a warm embrace.

"Are we going in fully clothed?" I ask, my voice teasing, but there's an undercurrent of anticipation thrumming through me.

"Depends on how reckless you're feeling," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Reckless enough," I say, and with a deep, fortifying breath, I grasp the bottom of my shirt and pull it off in one quick motion. Emrys matches my movements with his own, the two of us shedding every last layer of clothing we possess, until there’s nothing to shield us from the other’s eyes.

Goosebumps, having nothing to do with being cold, pepper my skin beneath his darkened, predatory gaze and I turn and step into the hot spring.

The heat envelops me, a delicious contrast to the cooler air, and I gasp at the sensation. Emrys steps in behind me and pulls me closer, spinning me until I’m facing him completely. I go willingly, magnetized by the pull of his presence. There's no space for thoughts, no room for doubts–only the here and now, only Emrys and me and the water that cocoons us.

When he kisses me, the world tilts on its axis. His lips are insistent, his touch electric, and I'm lost in the taste of him, the feel of him. The kiss deepens, fueled by all the unspoken tension that's been building between us, and I cling to him, my nails digging into his skin as if I could anchor myself in this moment forever.

Emrys' hands roam over my back, strong and sure, as if he knows every inch of my body even though this is the first time he's touched me like this. I press closer, my own hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against my palms.

"Kat," he groans low in his throat. There's a hunger in his voice that sends shivers of anticipation down my spine. His mouth finds mine again, urgent and demanding, and I can't help but respond with equal fervor. Our bodies move together effortlessly, as if they're drawn by the same magnetic pull that's been tugging at us since the moment we met.

His fingers trace the curve of my waist before slipping lower, teasing the softest, most sensitive curve of my hip. I follow his touch, urging him to keep going. Breaking our kiss, he lifts me with an ease that speaks of his strength, and I wrap my legs around him, anchoring myself to the only thing that matters in this moment.

His eyes find mine, holding them captive as he positions himself at my entrance and enters in one sharp thrust. I cry out, a mixture of pain and pleasure tearing through me as my body adjusts to the intrusion. But the sensation is tempered by the equally powerful feelings of desire and completeness that wash over me.

Emrys' face is a mix of concentration and fierce possession, never breaking eye contact as he begins to move within me. The moment is not what I expect–one of pure lust–but instead it feels deeper, each thrust driving me closer to the edge of some ecstatic abyss.

As his hands grip my hips, his gaze never leaves mine, and I feel as if we're sharing a secret only the two of us know. The intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming, but I cling to him, my nails digging into his back as we continue to move together in sync, the hot spring water shimmering around us like a veil of liquid silk.

With each pump of his hips, he grows harder and more possessive, his touch more forceful, like he just can't help himself. It's like being claimed by some ancient force, one that knows exactly what it wants and won't take no for an answer.

As our tempo increases, so does the intensity of the moment, each kiss and touch more urgent than the last. The sound of the waterfall provides a rhythmic backdrop to our lovemaking, its crashing echoing around us, punctuating our cries of pleasure. It's almost too much–too beautiful, too raw. But somehow, it feels right...

Just like him.

My climax comes hard and fast, a scream caught in my throat as the pleasure washes over me like a tidal wave. I cry out, as his pace and fervor magnifies, drawing my release to monstrous heights as if to punish me with delicious agony.

He fucks me straight through the first, and into the next, until I'm nothing but a writhing, screaming mess of limbs and pleasure. Our bodies crash against each other, wet skin slapping against wet skin in a primal battle. Yet, he doesn't stop. Doesn't falter.

As his hips thrust forward, the waves of water lift and fall in sync with our bodies, as if amplifying our movements, creating a spontaneous dance between us and nature itself.

He finds my mouth with his own, swallowing my noises once more as our tongues clash together desperately. His fingers dig into my hips, leaving bruises behind to match the ones Wyatt has already left behind, and I can only groan in selfish satisfaction.

Emrys' hands find my ass, holding me tightly, supporting me as he slams inside me like a man possessed. I can feel every inch of him, every throbbing pulse in his cock as it grinds against me, filling me up and leaving me breathless. He bites my bottom lip, drawing blood, and my body responds with a jolt of electricity that sends me straight over the edge once more.

His thrusts grow faster and more desperate, matching the beat of his heart against my chest. His hands tighten, his fingers digging in, and all I can do is hold onto him, arching my back to give him better access as we ride the edge of madness together.

Just as I think I can't take any more, his body tenses, movements shuddering as a wild groan leaves his mouth. The heat of his seed floods my core, even hotter than the spring we're writhing in.

For what feels like an eternity, we stay pressed together, chests heaving and skin glistening with sweat and water. And then, slowly, he lowers me to my feet, his mouth finding mine again, tender this time, like he's tasting me for the first time.

I'm left breathless and reeling, my whole body pulsing with aftershocks of pleasure that have me lightheaded. He pulls back slowly, looking down at me with those curiously-shaded eyes that hold an ocean of depth within them. I can't find the words to describe how this feels–how right it all seems somehow.

But even as the thought crosses my mind, another invades me.

They say you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, but what if that's not true?

What if you know exactly what you want...and then you get it all at once?

Riding in like harbingers of chaos, three irresistible men who–together–seem to perfectly balance the chaos they create within me.

I know exactly what I want, and have it resting in the palm of my hand, but what if there’s no way to keep it?

Chapter 35

"Kat! You're just in time. I was just about to pack up." Aunt Sarah–our family seamstress–and a woman with more pins in her mouth than I have hairs on my head, greets me with muffled enthusiasm. Today is the final check on all of the bridal party dresses, which is giving me the perfect time to be away from the guys and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do.

I step onto the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, the cool whisper of fabric sliding over my skin as she drapes the gown over me. It fits like a fantasy, every curve hugged, every line celebrated. If only dealing with my tangled love life was this seamless.

"Stand still, darling," she instructs, her hands deftly tucking and smoothing.

"Easy for you to say," I mutter, barely audible, my gaze locked on my reflection.

The seamstress begins pinning something at the hip, but I'm only half there, the rest of me hurtling toward D-day. How do I even start the conversation?

Hey guys, funny story, turns out I've fallen for all of you. Surprise! Yeah, that’ll go over well.

Wilder's face flashes in my mind—those mischievous eyes, always dancing with secret laughter. He'd gotten under my skin with his carefree charm and unexpected depth. Then there's Wyatt, steady as a rock, his intense steel gray gaze and quiet strength something I’ve come to rely on. And finally there’s Emrys. With his passionate soul and fiery touch, he completes this impossible puzzle.

"Kat, are you holding your breath?" Sarah clucks, eyeing me critically.

"Feels like it," I confess, releasing a pent-up sigh.

"Relax, dear. The dress won't bite."

If only it were the dress I was worried about.

"Right. Relax," I echo, forcing my shoulders down from around my ears.

I practice the words silently, watching my lips form them in the mirror.

I think I’m falling for you all. I can’t choose.

Sounds like a line from a reality show nobody would believe. But this isn't some scripted drama–this is my heart on the line, raw and achingly real.

"Is the waist too tight?" She’s squinting at my midsection, but my thoughts are miles away, tangled up with three men who've turned my world upside down. And my brand new kitten, Luna, who is currently being treated to the good life by a team of staff until I can take her home.

Because, duh, I’m keeping her. When the cat distribution system calls, you answer.

"No, it's perfect," I say, meaning more than just the dress. Because despite the chaos, the things I’m feeling are perfect in their own messy way.

"Good. I don’t think we’ll have to do any last minute adjustments here." She steps back, scrutinizing her work with a satisfied nod.

"Thanks," I tell her, but my voice is far away. It's now or never, Kat. Time to lay it all out on the table and hope they don’t run for the hills. Annabelle catches my eye through the reflection in the full-length mirror, her brow creased with concern.

"Hey, Earth to Kat," she says, her voice a gentle prod. "You've been miles away since you got here. Spill."

"Let's step aside for a sec," I mutter, hooking a thumb toward the far corner of the room. We need privacy for this conversation.

I slip out of the gown and back into my white sundress, muscles coiled with tension that has nothing to do with the snug fabric. With Aunt Sarah out of earshot, I feel the knot in my stomach loosen just enough to let the words tumble out.

"Annabelle, I'm freaking out," I confess as I start pacing, the plush carpet soft under my feet. "The guys...it's like I’m trapped in a romance novel where the heroine's too greedy to pick just one love interest."

"Slow down, Kat." Annabelle's voice is the calm to my storm. "What's going on?"

“I’m going to tell them.” My hands ball into fists at my side. “Emrys was perfect last night. Perfect. But so was Wyatt. So was Wilder. They’ve got me all sorts of screwy up here.” I jab at the side of my head erratically. “I realized that I can’t choose. I actually like them all. I’ll just leave it up to them.”

"Sounds like a…plan. I guess?" Annabelle quips, her lips twitching with amusement.

"More like a headache," I shoot back, but my heart isn’t in it. Truth is, they each bring something unique and irresistible to the table, and I don’t think any woman in my position could come up with a better plan.

How do you choose between different shades of perfection?

"Kat," Annabelle grabs my shoulders, stopping me mid-pace. "Look, I can't tell you what to do, but you have to talk to them. Be honest about your feelings."

"Right, because telling three insanely competitive men that I want to date all of them simultaneously won't cause a war the likes of which this world has ever seen before," I say, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Hey, you're the one who fell for them. Now you've gotta deal with the consequences," she says, letting go and giving me a playful shove.

"Thanks, that's super helpful," I reply dryly, but a smile tugs at my lips. Only Annabelle could make me feel better while calling me out on my own mess.

"Anytime, sis." She winks. "Now, go out there and tell those boys who's boss."

"Boss of her own heartbreak," I grumble, but the encouragement does its job.

I straighten up, flexing my french-tipped fingers, and try to shake off the nerves that are threatening to go supernova in my chest. Annabelle watches me with hawk-like intensity, her own hands poised like she's ready to catch me if I fall apart.

"Kat," she starts, her voice a soothing balm, "you've built an empire from scratch, saved countless animals, and climbed mountains–both literal and metaphorical. You're a force to be reckoned with."

I snort, but deep down, her words start to stitch together the tattered edges of my confidence. "An empire that apparently includes a harem of heartthrobs," I mumble under my breath.

"Exactly!" She exclaims as though I've just solved quantum physics. "You didn't let anyone tell you how to run your sanctuary. Why let them dictate your love life?"

"Because love isn't like business. There's no strategic plan for the heart." My eyes drift to the floor, a soft sigh escaping my lips.

"Maybe not," Annabelle counters, tilting my chin up to meet her gaze. "But there's honesty, Kat. And if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you never hide from the truth."

"Even when it’s more tangled than last year's Christmas lights?" I ask, half-joking.

"Especially then," she insists. "You’re Kathryn Motherfucking Sharpe. If they can't handle the storm that you are, they don’t deserve to bask in the sunshine."

"Annabelle, when did you get so poetic?" I tease, but her words resonate with me, lighting a spark that ignites into a blaze.

"Since you started forcing me to watch those cheesy romance movies," she admits with a shrug. "Now go, before I start quoting sonnets at you."

"God forbid," I chuckle, shaking my head with affection for my sister. She always knows just what to say to kick my butt into gear.

"Remember, you're a badass," she calls out as I stride toward the door, Aunt Sarah’s bewildered look barely registering in my peripheral vision.

"Badass," I whisper to myself, rolling the word around my mouth and letting it build like a battle cry. I square my shoulders, my heart thumping a rhythm of courage that drowns out the fear.

Stepping into the hallway, the luxurious carpet muffles my determined strides as I make it to the elevator up to my suite. The white fabric of the dress swishes softly against my thighs with every step, reminding me of the feeling of their hands in the exact same spots.

The elevator softly dings my arrival, but the suite seems empty, until I step in closer to where the bedroom is. Then I hear it.

The closer I get to the closed door, the more distinct the sounds become–a cacophony of male voices clashing in a way that has nothing to do with harmony. My pace slows, not out of hesitation, but to catch the ebb and flow of their argument. It sounds suspiciously like a heated debate over...me?

"Seriously?" I scoff quietly, shaking my head. My lips twist in annoyance as I press my ear to the cool wood, catching fragments of sentences spiked with possessive undertones.

"We should never have even started this ridiculous bet." Wyatt's voice cuts through, sharp as the crease in his perfectly tailored trousers I’m sure he’s wearing.

"Ah, I see. Someone feelin’ a little left behind, old man?" Wilder counters, his southern drawl wrapping around the insult like a lasso.

Bet.

Bet.

Bet.

The word rings on repeat in my head like the sounding of a gong, every echo reverberating through my chest and battering at my heart. It hurts. More than it ought to.

Maybe I should have expected it though. My ridiculous romantic tendencies always seem to blow little things into Hollywood level rom-coms. An accidental brush of hand against hand, turns into a passionate embrace. Natural, everyday eye contact turns into lingering, soulful glances. A fun sex-filled vacation in Cancun turns into an epic beginning to a passionate love story.

Stupid, stupid Kat. You never learn.

I can barely hear past the blood rushing in my ears, only catching snippets as they remain mostly quiet in their arguing. But I can tell they're so caught up in their competitive pursuit, they've forgotten the person at the heart of it all.

"Alright, boys," I say, my voice a low murmur only I can hear. "Time for a reality check."

Without another thought, I reach out and twist the ridiculously opulent handle, swinging the door wide open with a crack like thunder. The arguing cuts off, a sudden silence falling like the calm before a storm–the perfect backdrop for truths that need to be told.

"Seriously?" The word is a bullet. It pierces the tense air, silencing them. They turn, three pairs of eyes wide with surprise—Wilder's stormy blue, Wyatt's sharp steel gray, Emrys' deep nebula green and gold. I don't even pause to take in their hangdog expressions; they're not pets caught chewing shoes, they're men, and they should know better.

"You're all idiots," I say, hands on my hips, French-tip nails glinting like knives ready for a fight. "You think this is some high school bet? Plotting strategies to win me over like I'm the grand prize in some messed-up carnival game? How positively degrading."

Wilder opens his mouth, probably to throw around another reckless excuse, but I cut him off. This isn't a time for his charm or sweet-talk. Not when my heart feels like it’s been trampled by the weight of their egos.

"Shut it, Wilder," I say sharply. His jaw snaps shut, surprise flickering in his eyes before a shadow of shame crosses his face.

Wyatt steps forward, the lawyer in him ready to debate, to negotiate terms. But this isn't a courtroom, and I'm not a case to be won. "Kat-" He starts, but I’m not having any of it.

"Save it, Wyatt. Your silver tongue won't work here.” I hold up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

“And you, Emrys." I whip around to face him, his usual cool demeanor faltering under my scrutiny. "Don't think I didn't notice your quiet judgment, thinking you're somehow above all this. I’m sure you’re as equally a part of this bet as the other two." The word bet strikes out like a snake, making all three wince.

They look at each other, then back at me, a silent communication passing between them that's too little, too late.

"Did it ever occur to any of you that what I want might matter? That maybe I'm not interested in being a part of some sick pissing match?" Each word is a hammer, nailing in my point. "I built an empire from nothing, turned passion into purpose. I’m worth far more than being used as a cheap prize!"

"Kat, we-" Emrys tries again, the usually unflappable Brit looking distinctly ruffled now.

"No," I interrupt with a sharp shake of my head. "I don't want apologies. I don't want excuses. I want a partner who respects me. And if that's too much to ask, then maybe none of you are up to the challenge."

My gaze sweeps over them one last time, imprinting this moment, this decision, firmly into my mind. With every ounce of dignity I have left, I straighten my spine, ignoring the ache in my heart.

"Figure it out, guys. Because I'm done being the trophy at the end of your little competition."

With those final words hanging in the air like the echo of a closing gavel, I pivot on my heel, my exit as sharp and deliberate as the words I leave them with. I don't linger for their reactions; I've said my piece. The click of the latch is a punctuation, an end to the chapter that had us entangled more messily than headphone wires in a pocket.

"Kat!" It's Wilder's voice, soaked with the smooth drawl of his Southern roots, calling after me from behind the closed door. I hear the telltale signs of them seemingly wrestling to get out of the door to chase after me, their own infighting stopping them from reaching me even now. His tone tugs at the part of me that craves the reckless abandon he brings out in me–the zip lining through life without looking down.

"Kathryn, please," Wyatt's deeper, more resonant plea joins in, seeping through the wood. The man who has known the bitter burn of loss and still stands tall, asking for another chance, his voice thick with regret.

"Kat," Emrys adds last, his British accent always making my name sound like it should be whispered in intimate moments. He's the calm to my storm, the steady hand when life whips up chaos.

But I don't stop. They need to stew. They need to realize that Kathryn Sharpe isn't a prize to be won; she’s a force to be reckoned with.

I enter the elevator, the cool wall a contrast to my heated skin as I press my back against it. I let out a deep breath and it feels like releasing the safety valve on a pressure cooker that’s been on way too long, leaving behind only the charred remnants of whatever culinary masterpiece it was supposed to be.

Chapter 36

The door slams open with enough force to rattle my teeth. Kat storms in, her eyes are twin storms of betrayal and hurt, though she's biting down on her lip so hard I'm worried she'll draw blood.

"Annabelle," she blurts out. "I heard them–"

"Hold on…what?" I set my phone aside, ushering her onto the plush couch in our shared living room. "What happened?"

She paces, refusing my offer to sit, restless energy rolling off her in waves. "Emrys, Wilder, Wyatt... they made a bet about me. About who could-" She chokes on the words, shaking her head fiercely as if to dispel them.

"Hey," I coax, keeping my voice even. "You're not alone in this. Tell me everything."

As she recounts their words, my heart clenches. It's like watching someone take a sledgehammer to her spirit. Kat's always been the resilient one, but even steel can buckle under enough pressure. And these guys–these idiots–have just lit the fuse to my protective sister bomb.

"Okay, Kat, listen." I interrupt her spiraling tale, grabbing her by the shoulders. "I was trying to decide which dessert to serve at the rehearsal dinner. Maybe you can help me out and then we’ll figure this out together. How does triple chocolate sound?"

"Triple?" A flash of the old Kat gleams in her eyes, tentative but there.

"Definitely triple." I nod decisively. "I’ll tell the kitchens I’m ready for the tasting."

Once I’m sure she's sufficiently distracted with all the desserts that room service is carting in, I grab my phone and punch in Ethan’s number. He picks up after two rings, his deep voice a calm counterpoint to the raging inferno inside me.

"Hey, baby? What's up?"

"Code Red. The jackasses have crossed a line with Kat. I need backup."

"Say no more. Where and when?"

"Meet me outside Kat’s suite elevator in ten. Bring the cavalry. Oh, and rope. A lot of it."

"Got it. We’re on it."

I end the call and dash down the hallway, pulling together a mental list of our male cousins who'd drop everything for Kat. Our family is tight-knit–a veritable wolf pack–and right now, it's time to bare some teeth.

Armed with righteous fury and a plan that's forming with every thundering heartbeat, I make my way to the designated spot. Ethan's already there, flanked by our cousins–big, burly types who might look like knuckle-dragging Neanderthals but have hearts of gold.

"Guys," I begin, my tone brooking no argument, "Kat’s honor is at stake. Those three musketeers of mayhem thought they could play games with her heart. Now, we're going to teach them a lesson in respect."

Ethan cracks his knuckles, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "What's the play, baby?"

"We confront them," I declare. "We make it crystal clear that what they did was grade A fucked. They need to know that Kat is not a prize to be won. She's a person–with feelings. Nothing crazy…er, well, no one has to bleed."

Nods ripple through the group, a silent pact forming between us. This isn't just about setting things right; it's about family, and in our books, that means everything.

"Let's roll," I say, leading the charge into the elevator.

Today, those boys will learn that when you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us. And the Sharpes don't let anyone off the hook easily.

The elevator dings our arrival and I storm in, my makeshift crew of familial muscle at my heels. The sight that greets us is almost comical–Emrys, Wyatt, and Wilder lounging like they own the place, glasses in hand, completely oblivious to the storm about to hit them.

"Really, guys?" My voice cuts through them like a whip. Their heads snap up, eyes wide with surprise. "You're here, sipping bourbon while Kat's world crumbles?"

"Annabelle, we-" Wyatt starts, but I'm not having any of it.

"Save it," I snap, watching as his face hardens. Emrys and Wilder exchange a look that reeks of we've been caught.

"Heyyyy, Annabelle, what's going on?" Wilder asks, trying for innocence but missing the mark by a country mile.

"Shut it, Casanova," I retort. "You don't get to play dumb after making bets on my sister's emotions."

Ethan steps forward, a coil of rope slung over his shoulder. His smirk tells me he's enjoying this far more than he should. "Time for some brotherly bonding, fellas."

"Are you serious?" Wilder scoffs, attempting to rise from his seat, only to be pushed back down by one of my cousins.

"Dead serious." Ethan tosses the rope to our cousin, Jake, who's already advancing on Wilder with a no-nonsense grimace. "We’re going to tie you up until you learn that women are not pawns in your games."

"Annabelle, this is insane," Wyatt protests, standing up, but two cousins flank him instantly, ready to enforce my decree.

"Maybe," I concede with a shrug, "but it's also necessary. You need a lesson in respect and empathy. And if that means tying you up like a trio of out-of-line school children, so be it."

"Isn't this a bit extreme?" Wilder tries to reason, his usual smooth charm faltering under the gravity of the situation.

"Extreme times call for extreme measures," I shoot back, watching as my cousins make quick work of the ropes, binding Emrys, Wyatt, and Wilder together, back-to-back…to back. They struggle against the tight knots, but there's no give. Ethan made certain of that.

"Guys, come on," Wilder pleads, his usual cocky demeanor crumbling. "We didn't mean any harm-"

"Didn't mean any-" I start, my voice rising, but I cut myself off. No, they're going to sit with their mistakes, literally tied up in them, until they understand the weight of their actions.

"Sit tight," I say instead, a wry smile playing on my lips. "Or, well, you don't have much choice in the matter."

"Annabelle, this isn't right," Emrys tries to reason.

"Turns out," I reply, stepping close enough that he can see the resolve in my gaze, "there’s a lot that isn’t right about this entire situation. But this?” I emphasize, waving my hands around to highlight their little predicament. “Not even a little. You should know something about us Sharpes. We love to have fun. We love to give and be charitable. But if you fuck with one of ours? Well…" I gesture at their current position as an example.

They watch me, a tangle of confusion, regret, and dawning comprehension. Good. Let them stew in that for a while.

I turn on my heel, leaving them bound and bewildered for a moment, and head into the bedroom. I whisk a giant sheet from the foot of Kat's bed, crisp and white, before returning to the living room and flinging it over the trio of entangled egos before me.

The fabric settles over their heads like a shroud, and then I'm snipping three ragged holes with a pair of nail scissors–french-tipped manicure flashing as I work. "This is our get along shirt," I scrawl across the front in bold, mocking letters with a black marker.

"Annabelle, come on..." Wyatt's muffled voice filters through the cotton barrier.

"Quiet," I snap without missing a beat. "You're in time-out."

"Time-out?" Wilder's Southern drawl is tinged with incredulity, but there's an undertone of guilt that wasn't there before.

"Yep, kindergarten style." I step back, admiring my handiwork. There's something borderline artistic about three grown men bound together in a makeshift unity shirt. It'd be a shame not to share it with the world.

"Look, we know we messed up. It wasn’t like th–" Emrys begins, but I cut him off.

"Know? Oh, bless your heart." I lean in close, the heat of my anger probably warming their cheeks. "I don't think you know anything right now. You've hurt Kat. My sister. The woman who juggles a billion dollar empire with her bare hands, making it her life mission to save all things beaten and broken. The woman who has quite literally bled for me. The woman who brought me together with Ethan when I was too blind to see it. The woman who would literally give the shirt off her back to someone–anyone–in need. And all you could think to do was make her the prize in some juvenile bet?"

Their heads bow, shame finally settling in. "We didn't think–" Wyatt tries again.

"Exactly!" My hands go to my hips as I stare down at them. "You didn't think. My sister's heart isn't a game. You need to figure out if what you feel for her is real or just another thrilling adventure for you, Wilder. Or maybe an attempt to fill some void in your life, Wyatt. And you, Emrys, what's your excuse?"

I’m silent for a while, and they are too until I jerk my head up, catching the flicker of confusion in their eyes. My heart's thudding like a drum solo in my chest as I realize what slips out next is going to hit them harder than any truth I've ever spoken.

"And just so you know," my voice cracks with a mix of anger and unintended vulnerability. "Kat was coming back here to talk to you guys. She was ready to open up to each of you, to admit that she has feelings for all of you. She’s been agonizing about it. About hurting you guys with that. Meanwhile…you guys were just treating her like some game."

The words hang heavy in the air, and I watch as it dawns on them–the scope of their blunder. Wilder looks like he's been punched in the gut, his usual adventurous spark snuffed out by my revelation. Wyatt's jaw clenches, the lines of his lawyer-brain piecing together the case of his own guilt. And Emrys...

Well, Emrys has the decency to look utterly wrecked, not at all the stoic beast he usually is.

"Feelings," I sneer the word, tasting the bitterness as it spills from my lips. "Yeah, those complicated things you toyed with while setting up your little competition."

Without another word, I whip out my phone, camera app already open. Their faces are a picture of regret and shock, tangled up in each other and the white sheet proclaiming their forced camaraderie. It's too perfect, too fitting not to immortalize this moment. I snap the picture, the shutter sound punctuating the silence.

"Smile for the camera, boys. This one's for posterity." The flash captures their startled expressions, and deep down, where my anger simmers, a spark of satisfaction ignites.

"Consider this a souvenir," I tell them, slipping the phone back into my pocket. "A reminder that real feelings aren't a game you can win or lose. They're the messiest, most inconvenient, yet somehow the most thrilling part of life. Kat deserves better than to be someone's prize at the end of a dare."

Their heads collectively drop, a silent vow to do better etched into the slump of their shoulders. Good. Let that image be plastered in their minds until they get their acts together.

I pivot on my heel, the last vestiges of my tirade still hot on my tongue. My chest heaves with the exertion of my anger, and I can feel the flush on my cheeks beginning to cool in the air-conditioned decadence of Kat's suite. The men before me, bound and sheepish beneath the makeshift get along shirt, look like a bizarre art installation gone wrong.

"Think of this as...team-building," I quip, unable to resist the last jab. "Or maybe time-out for overgrown toddlers."

Ethan snickers from beside me, his arms crossed as he surveys our handiwork. Our cousins are less amused, their faces etched with concern for Kat and thinly veiled disgust at her suitors' antics.

"Annabelle," Emrys begins, his voice muffled by the sheet, "this isn't⁠—"

"Save it," I cut him off, silencing whatever excuse is about to spill from his lips. "You've got some serious soul-searching to do, all of you. And until you figure out how to untangle this mess you've made, you're stuck with each other. Literally. Reflect on that. Reflect on her," I say, stepping back. My piece said. My sister's honor fiercely defended. "Oh…and fuck you!"

I leave them there, a tableau of regret and dawning understanding, and stride out of the room. The click of the door behind me feels final, a period at the end of a long, complicated sentence. But as I walk away, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Because deep down, past the anger and protectiveness, I know Kat's got herself an unlikely trio of men who are about to trip over themselves to make things right.

"Let's hope they figure it out before someone needs to use the bathroom," I chuckle to Ethan, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. A chorus of laughter rings out as we all load up on the elevator, more than pleased with ourselves.

Love, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor. And so do I.

Chapter 37

The three of us are still crammed beneath this ridiculous time out shirt, our limbs entwined like a human pretzel. It's like a sweat lodge for fools–fools who've been fighting over the kind of woman that comes around once in a blue moon, if you're lucky. Now we’re bound in what constitutes a cotton straightjacket, bound by fabric and stubborn pride.

Sweat trickles down my back, and I can't help but think about how Kat must be feeling right now. My chest tightens at the thought of her, the way it always does, but this time it hurts. Like I'm trying to rope a wild mustang with my bare hands.

"Guys," I begin, swallowing the lump in my throat, "I reckon we've been acting like a trio of bullheaded steers. We gotta do right by Kat."

There's a collective sigh, a sound that carries the weight of our shared guilt. We've acted like kids playing king of the castle, but damn, Kat's better than that.

"I never wanted things to get this way," Wyatt admits, his words laced with regret. "Kat's more than some trophy. She's- She's everything."

Emrys grunts in agreement, struggling to shift his weight without causing more discomfort. "What are we going to do?" He asks, genuine concern lacing his words.

"First things first, let's get out of this oversized toddler penalty wear." With fingers trained from years of handling lassos and leather, I work at the knots binding us. Each twist and tug bringing a little more freedom. The twine resists, but like anything else, with patience and a bit of cowboy know-how, it gives way.

"Since when did you become Houdini?" Wyatt asks, a hint of amusement breaking through the tension.

"Since always," I grunt, finally loosening the last loop. The others might not know a square knot from a granny knot, but give me some rope and I'll show you magic. "Cowboys have their ways, you know."

"Clearly, we underestimated the cowboy," Emrys teases lightly, relief evident in his tone.

"Got it," With one last tug, the binds fall away, and we're free, physically at least. The emotional knots? Well…that’ll come.

Freedom never felt so good, or so daunting. As we sit on the floor, catching our breath, I look at Wyatt and Emrys, both looking as miserable as I feel. "From now on," I declare. "No more games. We work together, protect each other, and let Kat decide how this wild ride ends."

Wyatt nods, his green eyes filled with determination. "You're right, Wilder. She means too much to all of us for us to keep acting like idiots."

"Agreed," Emrys chimes in, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "But how do we do that? How do we make it up to her?"

I rub at my temples, thinking hard. "We need to show her that we're serious about making this work. That we'll do whatever it takes to make her happy."

"Right," Wyatt says, his voice firm. "We'll apologize, of course, but actions speak louder than words. We're going to be there for her, support her, and prove that we can be the partners she deserves."

Emrys nods, a determined glint in his eyes. "We need to work together, not against each other. It's the only way this has any chance of working."

"Exactly," I say, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

Together, we stand up, our resolve solidifying as we prepare to face the woman who has captured all our hearts. No more competition, no more games. Just three men committed to giving their all to the woman they lo-

Well…really like.

The shirt hits the ground like a flag of surrender, and I look around at my makeshift brothers-in-arms, our chests heaving from more than just the physical struggle. There's a moment, as silent as the calm between storms, where we all lock eyes—a silent agreement passing between us.

"Truce," I say, and it feels like I'm spitting out the last bit of pride I had left.

"Truce," echoes Emrys, his voice steady as a heartbeat.

"Alright, truce," adds Wyatt, his jaw set in determination.

We nod, not a single one of us breaking eye contact, sealing the deal without handshakes or paperwork. Just raw honesty hanging thick in the air.

"Let's go find Kat," I suggest, pivoting on my heel, ready for the next mission. "She deserves an apology. A real one."

"Agreed," they chorus, and we're off, moving as one entity through the resort grounds. The tension that once pulled at us like opposing magnets now guides us forward, united.

We spot her by one of the many pools, the sunlight dancing off the water and onto her skin as she dangles her feet in the water. She looks like a mirage, too perfect to be real, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

"Kat," I call out, and she turns, her expression guarded but curious.

"Guys?" Her voice holds a note of cautious optimism as we approach, hands empty, hearts full.

"Kat, we're sorry," I begin, feeling the weight of every clumsy word. "Truly. We've been fools."

"Grade-A, certified idiots," Emrys chimes in, running a hand through his hair with a sheepish grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Got caught up in our own nonsense," Wyatt admits, his brow furrowed with remorse.

She's silent, studying us with those piercing eyes that see right through to the soul. "Is this another game?" She asks, her voice laced with caution.

"No, darlin'," I assure her. "No more games. We're here, hats in hands, askin' for a chance to make things right. To show you that what we feel for you—it's real. And we're done competing for your affection."

"Done," Wyatt confirms.

"No more games," Emrys re-iterates.

Kat chews on her bottom lip, mulling over our words. "And if I decide-” she hesitates momentarily. “That I can’t choose?"

"Then we'll respect that," I say with conviction. "We just want you to be happy, Kat. With or without labels."

"Or ultimatums," Wyatt adds.

"Or conditions," Emrys finishes.

“However this all ends…that’s up to you.” My throat tightens, my heart pounding in a frantic rhythm that seems downright dangerous for humans. “All we want is a chance to make things right.”

C’mon, Kitty. Here’s my heart, it’s a bit dusty and shriveled, but I know you can do something great with it. Just take it. It’s probably better off with you anyways.

She folds her arms, and I can almost hear the cogs turning in her head as she sizes us up. "A chance?" She repeats.

"Please, Kat," I urge, stepping closer. "Just let us show you we can be the men you deserve. Without the competition, without the drama. Just us, here for you."

"Here for each other, too," Emrys adds, his gaze unwavering. "No more fighting."

"Or dumbass challenges," Wyatt says with a snort that’s completely unlike him, showing how shaken he is.

I watch her, see the walls around her heart waver just a touch. "Okay," she concedes, but there's a wariness there, a hesitation that wasn't there before. "Sort of."

"Sort of works for me," I say with a half-smile, hoping to coax one out of her.

"Me too," Emrys nods, relief beginning to seep into his features.

"Better than a get lost," Wyatt agrees, and we all share a look, knowing this is just the first step on a long road to redemption.

Sort of never sounded so beautiful.

* * *

Heart pounding like it's trying to escape my chest, I crane my neck to take in the gargantuan temple of paintball mayhem we’re about to dive into. I can practically taste the tang of anticipation in the air, mixed with a whiff of fresh paint and dirt. This makeshift Colosseum is Roger’s love letter. Designed by a man with too much money and a passion for spectacle, this over-the-top indulgence is an overgrown beast of inflatable bunkers and treacherous no-man's lands..

"Man, Roger really went all out," Wyatt mumbles beside me, his voice tinged with awe and a hint of amusement as we all stand decked out in actual army gear, masks and ear pieces included.

"Looks more like we’re storming Normandy than playing paintball," I chuckle, taking a moment to appreciate the absurdity.

The arena sprawls before us, a labyrinth of walls and obstacles that would put most action movie sets to shame. There’s fake foliage, towering barriers, and enough nooks and crannies for an army of chameleons to disappear into. It's as if Roger has been conspiring with every kid's wildest dreams to birth this behemoth of a battlefield.

Kat moves up to my side, her fiery spirit even brighter than the wild colors splashed across the arena. And hell if I'm not determined to win this for her, to be her knight in splattered armor. She's worth every bruise and every mad dash across this crazy battlefield.

"Ready to kick some ass?" Kat grins at me, her eyes alight with the same wildfire dancing in my gut.

"Born ready," I shoot back, slapping a magazine into my paintball gun with more zeal than necessary. But hell, this isn't just any game. This is war–a kaleidoscope of color and chaos where I’m not just playing to win; I'm playing to protect Kat. To stand by her, cover her six, and make sure she knows she's got an ally in every corner of this madness.

"Welcome to the Sharpe Shootout!" Roger's voice booms out around us, amplified to godlike proportions. Descending across the crowd, the sound of his voice stirs up the teams huddled in their respective starting zones and sharpens everyone’s competitive edge. The tension so thick you could spread it on toast.

"Remember, it's all in good fun," he continues, but there's a glint in his eye that says otherwise. This is the same man who probably taught Sun Tzu a thing or two about strategy in another life. “But also…the winners get an all expenses paid trip to…drumroll please…my house for dinner.”

The entire Sharpe clan lets out a chorus of boos and Roger laughs good-naturedly. “Sorry. I’m kidding. I’m kidding. The winners, of course, get an all expenses paid trip for up to six people to New Zealand!”

Cheers ring out, but it all becomes background noise as I catch Kat's gaze, a silent promise passing between us–no matter how this plays out, we're in it together. Her determined nod sends a jolt straight through me, igniting every nerve ending. She’s our captain, our fearless leader, and today, I swear she’s shining brighter than the sun in a cloudless sky.

The countdown begins, and every muscle in my body coils tighter than a rattlesnake ready to strike.

Three... Two... One...

The air horn blasts, and the world explodes into motion. Teams break from their huddles, scattering like ants under a magnifying glass. Paintballs zip through the air, splattering bright splotches of color wherever they land. Shouts and laughter mingle with the pop-pop-pop of paintball guns, creating a symphony of organized chaos.

Adrenaline surges and I'm moving, dodging, weaving through the artificial jungle with the grace of a gazelle–if gazelles were armed to the teeth and high on the thrill of competition. I’m part of a well-oiled machine, each of us playing our role in this dance of paint and victory.

"Stick to the plan!" Kat shouts, flashing a wild grin at Wyatt, who’s already lining up shots with the precision of a sniper. And I don’t even get jealous. Look at me go.

Okay, so maybe I do a little. But that’s okay, it’ll just push me to be better. To try harder. Right?

We’re doing this for Kat. For the crazy ride that’s brought us all together. And as paint fills the air, turning the battleground into a canvas of combat, I can’t help but think that this right here? This is living.

We’ve got this.

Splatters of neon green and electric blue drench the inflatable barricades as I sprint behind them, my heart thumping a relentless rhythm. "Left flank!" Kat's voice pierces through the cacophony, sharp as the crack of a paintball against plastic. In this colorful warzone of Roger Sharpe's making, we're more than just a team–we're an unstoppable force.

"Got it," I call back, swinging around to cover Wyatt, who’s perched like a hawk on higher ground. His gun is an extension of his arm, each shot sending a streaking paintball across the field with deadly accuracy, popping against helmets and chests like vindictive raindrops.

"Emrys, your six!" The warning barely leaves my lips before Emrys, ever the ghost, melts into the shadows of the arena's mock foliage. One second he's there, the next, he's gone, only to reappear where you least expect him–silent and deadly. Metaphorically, of course.

As for me? I’m the wildcard. While Wyatt calculates angles and Emrys slinks unseen, I charge headlong into the fray, a grin plastered on my face. Each dive and roll feels like a dance move, each trigger pulling a note in our symphony of mayhem. I'm all about the thrill, the rush of pushing the limits—because that's what she brings out in me: the reckless, fun-loving daredevil. Only that daredevil has a purpose now.

I slide into a new spot and pop off a couple of shots. A paintball zings by, close enough to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. "Missed me," I sing out to nobody in particular.

"Keep it down, Casanova," Wyatt mutters, his sniper-like focus never wavering. I stick my tongue out at him because maturity is overrated, and we're all about having fun here, right?

"Hey, Wilder, remember that time you tried to impress Kat by eating a ghost pepper?" Emrys chimes in, his smirk evident even from behind his mask as he surfaces on my left out of nowhere.

"Let's not relive my moments of gastrointestinal bravery right now," I shoot back, wincing at the memory. Note to self: Hot peppers and heroics don't mix.

"Kat, I'm going in!" I signal to our commander-in-chief, who nods once, her eyes alight with the fire of battle.

“Wait for Wyatt’s all-clear.” She orchestrates us like a maestro, her strategies unfolding with each shout and gesture, turning chaos into art. Under her lead, we weave through the Sharpe family onslaught, taking down aunts, uncles, and cousins with a flurry of color.

"Go long, Wilder!" Wyatt hollers, and I see my opening. I break from cover, sprinting across the open field with all the grace of a lion.

"Yee-haw!" I can't help but shout, because if you can't holler in the heat of battle, when can you? I'm dancing between paint splatters, feeling invincible, while leaping over a wall of tires. Paintballs whizz by, close enough to ruffle my hair, but I'm banking on surprise–the surprise that I'd be mad enough to jump right into enemy lines. And it works. I land amidst a cluster of shocked faces, the barrel of my gun sweeping in a wide arc as I let loose a barrage of paint-filled pellets with an enthusiastic shout before running away.

"Nice one, Wilder!" Wyatt cheers from his perch, picking off anyone who dares to raise their head.

"You’re crazy," Emrys whispers from nowhere and everywhere, his presence felt rather than seen.

Together, we carve a path through the opposition, our movements synchronized, our strategy impeccable. Every time we take down another Sharpe, it feels like a testament to how well we fit together, despite everything.

"Teamwork makes the dream work, baby!" I crow, high on the adrenaline and the sheer joy of shared glances and secret smiles between the chaos. There's a buzz in the air, the kind that tells you you're part of something special.

I crouch behind a splattered barricade, my heart hammering in my chest like it's about to break through. The air smells like adrenaline and paint solvent–a pungent reminder that this is no ordinary family gathering. It's us against Brody's team now, the final showdown in Roger Sharpe's ludicrously extravagant paintball arena.

"Watch your six, Wilder!" Kat's voice crackles through the comm, sharp as a whip, commanding even amid the chaos.

"Got it, Cap!" I holler back, rolling out from cover just as a neon green paintball whizzes past where my head was a second ago. That was close–too close. My pulse spikes, but there's no time for fear. This is what I live for. The thrill. The chase. The near-misses that make you feel so damn alive.

"Sniper support, coming up," Wyatt's calm drawl sounds over the radio, and I know he's got his sights trained on any movement, ready to unleash precision shots from his lofty nest.

"Emrys, status?" Kat demands, ever the leader, keeping us focused, driven.

"I’m nearby," comes the soft reply, barely there. Emrys' stealth is uncanny, his ability to move unseen giving us the edge we sorely need.

We regroup, and somehow, it's like the air shifts. We move as one unit, four parts of a well-oiled machine, cutting through Brody's defenses. I take a deep breath, channeling my inner daredevil. "Alright, boys, let's rain some color on these clowns."

We leap into action, a symphony of strategy and guts. Wyatt's shots sing through the air, finding their marks with deadly accuracy. Emrys flits from shadow to shadow, materializing just long enough to score hits before disappearing once more.

"Left flank, two tangos!" I call out, spotting Brody's teammates trying to maneuver for a better angle.

Not on my watch.

"Suppressing fire," I yell, charging forward, my gun spitting out paintballs in rapid succession. The opponents duck for cover, their advance halted by my reckless assault.

"Move up!" I signal to Kat and the guys, seizing the momentary advantage. We're a whirlwind of paint and purpose, pushing Brody's team back, step by step.

"Pinch maneuver, now!" Kat's command is decisive, her strategic mind mapping out victory with each word she utters.

Wyatt's covering fire keeps heads down while Emrys sneaks around, silent as a whisper. I'm right there in the thick of it, leading the charge, driven by pure adrenaline and the unspoken promise of what comes after the win.

I'm buzzing, a live wire of adrenaline as Brody dodges behind an inflatable bunker. The last man standing. We planned it this way–picked off his teammates like we were plucking petals from a daisy.

"Wilder, left flank, keep him pinned," Kat's voice is cool, collected, every bit the commander in chief she's proven to be.

"Got it!"

I glance over at Wyatt, and he gives me a nod that says he's ready, rifle aimed with the precision that has made him our ace in the hole. Emrys is barely a whisper, a shadow that flits from cover to cover, circling around to close the trap.

"Ready to end this?" I ask them, more rhetorical than anything because I already know the answer–we're born ready.

"Let’s give him the grand finale," Wyatt replies, a smirk in his voice that's all too familiar.

"Closing in," Emrys adds, his form blending into the backdrop until he's nearly invisible.

We're a symphony of silent agreement, each movement measured, each breath counted. I can feel the victory, tangible in the air, thick as the paint we sling.

"Three," I start, the countdown low in my throat.

"Two," Wyatt joins in, the anticipation sharp in his tone.

"One," Emrys finishes, and damn if it isn't the sweetest sound I've ever heard.

In unison, we emerge from our hiding spots, guns blazing. Paint flies through the air like a hailstorm of rainbows, each ball a note in the crescendo of our triumph. Brody spins, caught in the crossfire, the rat-tat-tat of our guns sounding his defeat.

"Argh!" He yelps, a dance of frustration and resignation as he takes the hits, color blooming across his gear like wildflowers after a storm. “I’m hit! I’m hit! Stop!”

"Sorry, Brody! But this is Sharpe territory!" I yell, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep inside.

"Game over, man!" Wyatt chimes in, the glee unmistakable in his voice.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel," Emrys quips, materializing next to us with a grin that could slice through steel.

The buzzer sounds, long and loud, declaring us the undisputed champions. I lower my gun, chest heaving, sweat mingling with splatters of paint. I look over to Kat to witness her eyes alight with the fire of victory, and that’s when it hits me…

The high of battle. The thrill of success. It's nothing compared to the electric charge between us.

"Team Kat for the win!" Roger's announcement echoes, but it's background noise to the symphony playing in my chest.

"Damn straight," I echo, breathless, and throw a wink Kat's way. "And that's just the beginning."

"Can't wait for the encore," Wyatt says, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Neither can I," Emrys agrees, a mysterious twinkle in his dark eyes.

"Neither can I," I repeat, letting the words hang in the air like a promise, or maybe a prelude. Because this, right here, is just the overture to something much bigger, something none of us saw coming.

"Kat, you absolute legend!" I exclaim, my voice raw with the remnants of adrenaline as I scoop her up in an impromptu victory spin. Our own colored paint smears from her combat gear onto mine, a colorful testament to our triumph, seeing as it’s the only color on us.

"Put me down, Wilder, before you make me regret feeding you all those protein bars!" But her laugh, bright and unguarded, tells a different story—one where she's as elated as any of us.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I tease, finally setting her down amidst the chaos of cheers and residual excitement.

Wyatt steps forward, his smile wide enough to rival the Texas sky. He bends slightly, a playful bow before taking Kat's paint-stained glove and pressing a gentlemanly kiss upon her knuckles. "You led us to glory, Captain," he says, his tone laced with warmth and a touch of awe that only she can draw out.

Emrys, ever the enigma, slides in smoothly, his quiet presence a stark contrast to the frenzy around us. He offers Kat a single, perfect tropical flower–a stark anomaly amidst the battlefield's rainbow wreckage. "For our fearless leader," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth lifting just so.

"Thanks, Emrys," Kat's cheeks flush with pleasure as she accepts the flower, tucking it behind her ear with a grace that belies the grime of warfare on her face.

Around us, the post-tournament atmosphere buzzes like a hive stirred to life. The monstrous arena, now splattered with vibrant hues, echoes with laughter and the sound of backslapping congratulations. We're a mess of paint and sweat, but it feels like we've been dipped in glory, every drop a badge of honor.

"Let's hear it for Team Kat!" Roger's voice cuts through the noise, drawing whoops and hollers from the crowd of friends and family. Some are still wiping paint from their brows, but all wear the same expression of genuine joy as they disperse to go clean up or soak sore muscles.

"Here we are, guys," Kat says, scanning the paint-splattered chaos that was once a pristine battlefield. "The aftermath of Sharpe Shootout—looks like a unicorn threw up all over it."

"Or a clown's birthday party gone rogue," I chime in, drawing a laugh from her. “Hey, Kat, reckon your dad will let us turn this into an annual tradition?"

"Only if he gets to show off his latest arsenal of paintball gadgets." She nudges me playfully, fingers lingering on my arm just a tad longer than necessary.

"Then count me in for next year–gadgets or not," I grin, wiping a drop of pink off her cheek with a thumb. "As long as you're there, darlin'."

"Smooth, Doc," Wyatt quips from behind, his own brand of dry wit never far behind. "You planning to charm all the paint away?"

"Charm, brute force, whatever works." I shrug, flexing an arm in mock seriousness. We laugh, and even Emrys cracks a rare smile, his silent presence a calming shadow among our vibrant troop.

"Speaking of brute force, anyone else feel like they've been tenderized by a meat hammer?" I ask, rolling my shoulder where a particularly zealous paintball–sent my way by Kat herself–had made its mark.

"Battle scars, Doc. Wear 'em with pride," Emrys whispers, his quiet voice somehow cutting through the noise around us.

"Easy for you to say, ninja boy," I shoot back. "You move so quietly, the paintballs probably thought you were one of their own."

“Wait, guys! Hold up.” Kat’s voice turns serious and we all spin in her direction. "We never decided on a victory meal."

“Ooh. Good idea! I'm thinking barbecue to keep with the theme—hot, messy, and oh-so-satisfying.” I rub circles on my stomach, licking my lips and instantly regretting it by the sharp taste of paint I get a mouthful of.

"Only you would equate food with paintball strategy," Wyatt says, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless.

"Or pizza," Kat chimes in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "This place does a mean meat-lovers with extra cheese."

"Extra cheese? After all this?" Emrys raises an eyebrow, feigning concern. "Our arteries might not forgive us."

"Speak for yourself, shadow man," I retort. "My arteries are adventurous souls."

"Let's do it. Pizza it is!" Kat declares, her authority unquestionable even post battle.

"Come on, then," I say, slinging an arm around Kat's shoulders, while Wyatt and Emrys flank her other side. "To the victors go the spoils!"

"Which in this case, is a mountain of carbs," Wyatt adds with a satisfied nod.

"Ah, the sweet taste of victory," Emrys agrees, his voice low and smooth.

"Sweet, cheesy, saucy victory," Kat corrects, and we all erupt into laughter, the sound mingling with the fading echoes of the day's battle cries.

We walk off the field together, a unit bound by more than just the game. The camaraderie between us is tangible, an electric current that zips and zings with each shared glance and touch. We're victorious warriors one moment, teasing friends the next, and something more there after...

Something simmers just beneath the surface, simply waiting for its moment to burst forth.

It’s weird. But then why does it feel so right?

Chapter 38

The early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains stirs me reluctantly from sleep. As awareness returns, so do the memories of yesterday–the fun, the camaraderie shared between us all. We didn’t do anything together last night after the paintball tournament, just cuddled and talked. But it was almost more intimate than if we had.

I shift beneath the silken sheets, breath catching as I feel soft curves pressed against me. Kathryn. Her long dark hair spills over the pillowcases like ink, lips slightly parted as she sleeps nestled against my chest. She looks positively angelic in repose, the usual sharpness of her features softened.

My arms tighten around her instinctively and she stirs, turquoise eyes blinking open sleepily. Before either of us can speak, her phone alarm chirps loudly. Kathryn fumbles to silence it, dismay crossing her delicate features.

"I have to go, maid of honor stuff," she explains apologetically. Her fingertips trail featherlight over the stubble on my jaw and I have to resist capturing those full lips once more.

She somehow gracefully slides around me and rises from the bed, casting a shy smile over her shoulder as she disappears into the opulent bathroom. The sound of running water follows soon after.

I take the opportunity to glance around the rumpled sheets in search of my other new…

Well, I'm unsure what to label them.

Wilder is sprawled on his back nearby, hair mussed, one arm dangling over the edge of the mattress. His usual cocky facade is absent, replaced by a boyish innocence in sleep.

On my other side, Emrys is curled on his side facing away from me, his broad tattooed back rising and falling evenly with his deep breaths. The ferocious intensity that marks his posture usually is smoothed away, leaving only tranquility behind in its place.

Seeing them both so unguarded, so peaceful, unfurls some of the unease in me. Whatever this fragile bond growing between us may be, perhaps it is not meant to be a battle after all.

I think back on the night that we all shared Kat together, how readily they both submitted to my direction, surrendering control. I’ve always demanded a position of authority in the bedroom. I just never expected it to be with more than one person. To have it so willingly almost gives me a sort of hope.

There was satisfaction in being obeyed, in orchestrating their attentions to give Kathryn maximum pleasure. I cannot deny I enjoy that particular dynamic.

And thinking about it now, I can admit there is an unexpected delight in watching them both worship Kathryn in ways I could not achieve alone. Wilder brought out her playfulness while Emrys awakened a primal wildness. Together, we explored pleasure beyond imagining.

Perhaps this unusual situation is not so impossible after all, if we approach it with open minds and hearts. For all our differences, it seems we three awaken something in Kathryn none can manage alone.

That will have to be enough.

Before my sentimental musings can continue, Wilder's lashes flutter open, followed quickly by Emrys stirring awake as well. I nod to them both, uncertain what the protocols are in these kinds of situations, but Kathryn emerges before anyone can say anything, radiant even in a simple sundress and damp hair. She gifts us all with a shy smile.

"Duty calls," she says breezily, though tension lingers beneath the surface. "We'll...talk later?"

All three of us nod, watching silently as she grabs her room key and disappears out of the door in a swirl of vanilla scent and clicking sandals.

And then there were three.

Half-naked men.

Alone in a bed.

An awkward silence descends.

I clear my throat, grasping for the right words. "So yesterday-"

"Hell of a time, eh boys?" Wilder interjects with a roguish grin. Leave it to him to cut through the tension with all the finesse of a bullet through bone.

Emrys makes a noise low in his throat. I still his warning growl with a raised hand. As little as I care to discuss this so plainly, avoidance will only breed more discord.

"It seems the three of us have found ourselves in quite the...unexpected situation," I begin delicately. "But it appears as though we all seem to care about Kathryn deeply, and I don’t see any of us backing down."

"You don't say," Wilder drawls, brow quirked. I resist the urge to throttle him and extinguish his flippant attitude.

Emrys shifts, tension radiating from him at this open discussion of emotions. "She's...special." he grits out simply, before rubbing at his face and continuing. “I keep thinking about my pack of Amur leopards.”

“Odd switch in conversation,” Wilder looks as confused as I feel. Emrys grumbles under his breath before running his hand through his long hair almost violently.

“My pack. They’re special. Now, Amur Leopards tend to be…promiscuous creatures. They mate with any and every one they come across. They’re not like swans or grey wolves. They don’t tend to stick around with each other for long. But this pack? It’s three males and one female. They bonded oddly. Even when presented with others of the same species, they stayed together. Like…they chose their family and stuck with it. There’s no infighting or anything. The three males almost…center around the female, protecting her and providing for her.”

Stunned, I stare at him open-mouthed. Not because of what he’s saying, but because I’m pretty sure that’s the most I’ve heard him speak continuously since we met. He doesn’t mind the silence, filling it with the rest of his thoughts.

“I keep drawing the comparison to us. It’s unlikely to find three males willing to put aside their differences and share a woman…but I can’t help but feel like it could work. We could try. She’s…ours.”

I consider his words, surprised to find the truth there. Whatever yesterday represented, it was far more different than just a truce. The thought of parting ways with Kathryn now cuts unexpectedly deep.

"Yes, I believe you’re right. Perhaps…perhaps none of us have to back down," I concede reluctantly. As little as I intended to ever consider sharing a woman, it seems fate–and Kathryn–have other designs.

Wilder studies us silently, all humor drained away now. This is uncharted territory for us all.

"Hell, I've never been a fan of sharing," he admits with a rueful shake of his head. "But it seems this little spitfire brings out sides of ourselves we barely knew existed."

I nod slowly.

"Then we are in agreement." I meet each of their gazes in turn, seeing past the passion to the flickers of hope and affection below. "If Kathryn will have us all, unexpectedly bound as we may be...perhaps this mad situation is not so impossible after all."

"Well alright then, Mr. Stuffy." Wilder's smile returns, renewed delight glinting in his eyes now that the matter is settled. "Here's to embracing the unknown."

He holds out a hand as if wanting to cement the newfound decision with a handshake and I shake my head at him in response. “I’m not shaking that. I don’t know where it’s been.”

He lets out an amused chuckle, letting it fall as he stretches in place. “I’m sure you can wager a guess.” He puts two fingers in a V shape in front of his mouth and flicks his tongue, making me roll my eyes at his antics.

I clear my throat and make the effort, for Kathryn's sake if nothing else. "Well, shall we see about finding some breakfast then?"

Wilder's grin returns in full force. "Now you're speaking my language! I'm still famished after the workout we got yesterday." He waggles his eyebrows outrageously and I have to fight the answering smile tugging at me. His enthusiasm is admittedly infectious.

Emrys just grunts at our antics but follows readily enough as we throw on clothes and make our way downstairs in search of coffee and food. I see a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table that wasn’t there before, but I shrug it off. Probably just some included bonus for being among the rich and famous guests like the Sharpe clan.

The resort's lavish breakfast buffet even further reminds me that we come from vastly different worlds than the Sharpes we now find ourselves tied to. I ignore the twinge of old insecurities, focusing instead on the tantalizing spread laid out before us.

As we sip coffee and eat piles of food, I observe my companions curiously. Beyond the bedroom, we three still have much to learn about one another. But the desire to do so has taken root within me.

"So Emrys, what drew you to animal rehabilitation?" I ask, genuinely interested to know more about the silent brooding man.

Emrys looks vaguely surprised to be asked, but takes a moment to consider his words carefully. "Always felt a...kinship with them. More than with people." He shrugs those massive shoulders. "Want to protect the vulnerable, save the wounded."

I nod slowly, glimpsing the bleeding heart beneath the gruff exterior. "A noble calling."

"And you, amigo? Can't imagine you defending criminals," Wilder chimes in, gaze curious. Though I still bristle at his prying, this newfound rapport demands honesty.

"I sought justice once, before realizing the system is flawed." I reply after a weighted pause. “I no longer wanted to be the reason that evil was set free.”

Something in my confession seems to land with my companions. We share a look of understanding. Our broken pieces recognizing each other. Perhaps together we can form something whole.

The conversation flows easier after that. Wilder regales us with humorous tales of his medical training escapades, coaxing even Emrys into reluctant chuckles. The lingering tension dissipates over steaming mugs and good food. But my thoughts keep wandering to Kathryn, wondering how her morning unfolds with wedding duties.

Do her thoughts stray to us too? Does she also feel this nebulous bond cementing, still tenuous as a spider's silken thread? My instincts say yes, but old doubts creep in unbidden.

Before I can even suggest that we set off and steal Kathryn away from whatever she’s doing, a grating voice interrupts us and all three of our eyes flick to the unwelcome interloper.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Kathy’s boy toys all snug and cuddly together. Did she give you permission to sit at the adult table? Or are you hoping she'll pet you and call you good boys if you behave?” Brody kicks out a chair and takes a seat before kicking his feet up on the table, making himself comfortable as he snags a piece of bacon off Wilder's plate. "So tell me, which one of you is Kathy's favorite plaything?"

The cowboy’s entire frame goes dangerously still as his eyes flash with something menacing. I’m once more reminded that I need to know more about my two new friends. That sort of edge doesn’t come from nowhere. It’s the kind that simmers in the background for a long time.

Before he can retort, I raise a hand, a subtle reminder to keep calm. We cannot allow this antagonistic lout to goad us into losing composure.

"I suggest you leave," I state firmly, meeting Brody's mocking gaze head-on and refusing to rise to his crass baiting.

Brody just snorts, clearly enjoying provoking a reaction. "Or what? You'll sic your attack dog on me?" He gestures flippantly at Emrys' hulking frame poised threateningly nearby.

Emrys inches closer, limbs coiled with contained aggression, but holds himself back at my sharp look. Now is not the time for rash actions.

Turning my focus back to the smug nuisance lounging before us, I keep my tone steady and controlled. "Walk away now with some shred of dignity remaining, or you may come to regret it."

"She's got you so pussy-whipped you practically have little bows around your dicks." He shakes his head, reaching for Wilder’s plate once more. He glances at me in question and I shrug, letting him take whatever recourse he chooses this time. Brody is pushing even me too far now.

In a whirl of movement, Brody’s sleeve is impaled to the table by a glinting, silvery knife with the man attached blinking dumbly at the blade. “What the fuck?!” His face goes ashen before switching to fury as he grabs the knife and pulls it out of his sleeve. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“Don’t get between a country boy and his food.” Wilder merely grins and leans back in his seat as Brody whirls towards him. “And never speak badly about my Kitty-Kat again.”

“Don't tell me you believe her little act. The ice queen doesn't have a heart to give anyone. Kathy's heart is colder than her cunt. She's incapable of it."

Wilder is on his feet in an instant, fist swinging towards Brody's smug face. But quicker than a viper strike, Emrys catches Wilder's arm mid-swing, a clear warning in his golden eyes to stand down.

Wilder trembles with fury but complies begrudgingly. Inside, my own rage boils hotly at this reprehensible worm daring to insult our woman. But I keep the roiling anger locked down tight. Now is not the time to lose control.

Rising slowly, I step around the table and grip Brody's shoulder with bruising force, leaning in close. "This is your last warning. Leave immediately, or you'll quickly find how lacking your charms are against us." My tone remains lethally calm, despite the urge to break his jaw.

Brody attempts to jerk out of my hold, his bravado finally wavering. "Get your hands off me, asshole."

I just squeeze harder, satisfaction curling through me as panic enters his eyes. "Next time, we won't be so polite," I promise coldly, releasing him with a slight shove towards the exit.

Brody opens his mouth, no doubt to continue spewing venom when, suddenly, Kathryn materializes beside him, eyes hard as diamonds.

"You heard the man. Time for you to go," she states crisply, nothing but ice in her voice. I suppress a satisfied smile at her impeccable timing.

"We were just having a friendly chat. Weren't we, boys?" He shoots us an oily grin that makes my fingers itch to wrap around his throat.

"Allow me to make myself abundantly clear. Come near me or mine again, and you'll learn exactly why my business rivals cower at the mere mention of my name."

Kathryn's turquoise eyes blaze with icy warning, her slender frame vibrating with barely repressed fury as she faces down her ex. I have to tamp down the answering primal satisfaction unfurling within me at her unbridled protectiveness.

Brody seems to finally comprehend the cesspool he has stepped into, bravado withering beneath Kathryn's display. "Kathy, come on, don't be like that," he cajoles weakly, though his posture remains poised for rapid flight.

Kathryn simply arches one perfectly sculpted brow. "I believe you've worn out your welcome. Or do you require more...forceful persuasion?"

The elegant threat in her tone sends anticipatory shivers down my spine. Intoxicating flashes of how else we might persuade this gnawing pest if he fails to heed wisdom flicker through my mind.

Behind me, I hear Wilder's knuckles crack, ever ready to jump into fray. Emrys prowls closer, primal shadows swirling in his green and golden stare. But Kathryn needs no defending, her crystalline eyes alone slashing sharper than any blade.

Brody's Adam's apple bobs nervously, his smarmy mask stripped away to reveal the coward lurking beneath. Still, he attempts one parting shot, like the scorpion who cannot resist trying to sting even as the waters rise.

"Your boys here are wound tighter than you, Kathy. All that bottled up rage can't be healthy." He shakes his head in mock sorrow. "You might want to keep them on a short leash. Could get messy."

Kathryn steps closer, sandals clicking on the polished floor like a hammer driving the final nail into a coffin. Her lips curve in a smile that is both terrifying and utterly arousing.

"Oh I intend to keep them on a leash among other things. But you need not worry yourself about our...proclivities." Even I suppress a shudder at the silken promise dripping from her words. Brody visibly blanches.

Check and mate.

Sensing his lack of options, Brody sneers once more in disgust before tucking tail and practically jogging from the room as Kathryn watches him flee with sharp satisfaction.

Then she turns to me, ice melting to warmth in her mesmerizing gaze. "You didn't have to defend my honor, but I appreciate the impulse." Her fingertips trail down my arm like a brand, igniting sparks beneath my skin.

I trap her wandering fingers in my own, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. "Trust me, the pleasure was all mine."

Kathryn's lips part slightly at the contact, color rising beautifully on her cheeks. I search her sea glass eyes, seeing a vulnerability and longing that mirrors my own.

We’re going to have to tell her everything we decided. And soon.

Chapter 39

As I'm wandering back through the resort after one last bridesmaid brunch–where I managed to update Annabelle with everything that happened since yesterday–loud voices reach my ears. I freeze as I recognize the antagonistic tone of Brody’s whiny voice. Rounding the corner, fury infuses my veins at the sight of him spewing insults and smarm at my guys.

Wyatt and Emrys vibrate with aggression but somehow manage to maintain their composure. Wilder, however, looks like he’s ready to lunge across the table and throttle Brody. I stride forward, icy rage crystallizing in my veins.

Nobody fucks with what's mine.

"You heard the man. Time for you to go," I state sharply, moving to stand behind the vile worm spewing vitriol at my men.

Brody whirls in my direction and attempts to downplay the confrontation with an oily grin. "Kathy, baby! We were just having a friendly chat. Weren't we, boys?"

I have to suppress an eye roll at his pathetic manipulation. Does he really think I don't see right through him? Beside me, Wyatt practically vibrates with restrained fury.

"Allow me to make myself abundantly clear. Come near me or mine again, and you'll learn exactly why my business rivals cower at the mere mention of my name."

Brody finally registers my rising anger, his bullshit coming to a stop as he tries to shift gears. "Kathy, come on, don't be like that," he cajoles weakly.

"I believe you've worn out your welcome. Or do you require more...forceful persuasion?" It’s the voice I use on shitty dates and people who wear out their welcome at my job. Hell, I used it on Baby-Face.

Behind me, I feel all three of my men step forward and straighten–Wilder even cracking his knuckles–as they back up my words. Their disdain for Brody is almost as deep as mine at this point.

"Your boys here are wound tighter than you, Kathy. All that bottled up rage can't be healthy." He tries his best to put on one of his manipulative shows. "You might want to keep them on a short leash. Could get messy."

I step closer, a fiery rage urging my movements. "Oh I intend to keep them on a leash among other things. But you need not worry yourself about our...proclivities." I don’t mean to throw our newly existent sex life in his face. It’s private. But at the same time, fuck him.

Brody pales at the salacious implication before finally slinking away in defeat. Pathetic worm. I watch his retreating back for a moment before turning to my men.

"You didn't have to defend my honor, but I appreciate the impulse," I say as I brush my hand on Wyatt’s arm.

He snatches it when I go to move it away, and holds it almost reverently, gratitude and promise shining in his stormy eyes.

"Trust me, the pleasure was all mine." Behind his refined mask, something dangerously primal stirs. "Kathryn..." My name spills like a fervent prayer from his lips and I shiver. "We need to-"

"Kitty-Kat!" My dad's voice booms out suddenly, shattering the charged moment. Wyatt steps back swiftly, mask sliding back into place though banked heat still smolders in his eyes.

I take a steadying breath, pressing my palms to my heated cheeks before turning to face my father.

"Hey, Dad," I manage, hoping my racing pulse isn't obvious. Dad pulls me into a quick hug, eyes crinkling.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," he says knowingly, glancing between me and Wyatt. "Just wanted to remind you all that the scavenger hunt is starting soon."

I summon a breezy smile, though my nerves still hum. "Wouldn't miss it.”

And as we’re all led outside to where the scavenger hunt is supposed to start, I find myself distracted by the look in Wyatt’s eyes. It seemed to be like a…confession. Like he reached some sort of decision after deliberation. And I’m not sure if I’ll like the answer.

Wasn’t it just yesterday that they all told me that they called a truce? That we’re just going to see where this all takes us for now?

How could that change in such a short amount of time? And to what end will it lead?

Fuck. I’m not sure if I want to know.

Chapter 40

The bright sun glints off the white sand, nearly blinding me as we all gather on the beach for the start of the scavenger hunt. Kat stands beside me, radiant as always. I have to resist the urge to pull her into my arms and capture those tempting lips once more.

Nearby, Wyatt and Wilder lounge with deceptive ease, though I sense the undercurrent of possessiveness towards Kat simmering within them too. We three have weathered a storm of the century together in such a short amount of time. We’re inexorably bound now, whether we want to admit it or not.

She is ours. This unexpected twist of fate has awakened something dangerously primal within me. I find myself craving belonging and intimacy for the first time in my life. A pack of my own that isn’t made up of fur and claws.

Kathryn's father steps up holding a box overflowing with envelopes and grins around eagerly. "Each team has their own unique hunt to go on, so it’s impossible to cheat or cut corners.” He shoots a mock-glare at a group of giggling teenagers before chuckling. “The first team back here with their treasure is the winner of the grand prize–a luxury trip to Vegas, baby!”

Laughter rings out at Roger’s enthusiasm before his face turns into faux seriousness. “Alright Sharpe Clan, who's ready to hunt?”

A chorus of cheers rises up and I glance around warily, still unsure of their strange customs. But Kat taps my arm playfully, eyes dancing.

"Try to keep up, big guy. My family doesn't mess around when it comes to scavenger hunts." She pauses, eyes twinkling before she chuckles musically. “Or…anything really. But you could probably guess that by now.”

Ah, now here is familiar ground. A test of skill and wit. And with Kat by my side, I don’t intend to lose.

Roger divides up the chaos of eager participants into teams of four and passes out envelopes containing cryptic clues. Kat snatches ours, her turquoise eyes scanning the paper eagerly.

I enjoy watching her clever mind work, deducing and strategizing. She really is a queen among peasants, too bright and fiery for most men to handle. But not us.

"Alright team, let's do this!" Kat rallies us with determined enthusiasm. Even Wyatt and Wilder straighten at her rallying cry.

"Hmm...Art is formed where land kisses sea. Yet by dawn, none can be seen." Kat ponders over the first cryptic clue, brows furrowed adorably in concentration. “Land kisses sea. That’s obviously the beach. But which one?” She bites her lip as she thinks aloud. I peer over her shoulder, caught up in the vanilla scent of her windswept hair.

"Art! Art! Art!” Wilder starts whooping and we all turn to him.

“What are you, a seal?” Wyatt’s tone is dry, but his lips quirk up in amusement. Wilder grins at him before snatching Kat up and spinning her around.

“It’s the sandcastle buildin’ area from before. Duh!" Wilder proclaims excitedly. Kat giggles and rewards him with a dazzling smile that makes my gut clench. Is that jealousy or simply appreciation for how her face seems almost radiant when she smiles?

"Nice work, Cowboy. You're more than just a pretty face after all," she teases, swatting at his shoulder playfully as he places her back on her feet. Wilder grins and leans in closer to whisper something in her ear that makes her laugh aloud.

I clear my throat gruffly. "Let's get moving then."

Kat lights up at my insistence, just as competitive as me, and allows me to guide her along the winding path to the deserted stretch of beach where sandcastle building took place just yesterday. Were it not for Wyatt's steady presence, I might do something rash, like throwing Wilder's flirtatious hide straight into the ocean.

I may be–somehow–on board for whatever this is, but Wilder is still Wilder.

As we make our way to the vacant beach, Kat scours the area meticulously until discovering our next clue just barely poking out of the sand in a glass bottle. Clever girl.

She holds it aloft triumphantly. "Success! You boys better keep up!"

Wyatt chuckles, gazing at her with unconcealed admiration. "Of that I have no doubt."

She flushes prettily at the compliment before tearing open the seal and scanning the contents eagerly. "I’m cute as a button, but you better take cover. When ruffled and angry, I'll spit like no other."

Kathryn purses her lips in that tempting way she does when deep in thought. I force myself to look away, scanning our surroundings for inspiration.

"Aha! The spitters!" Wyatt proclaims way too enthusiastically. At my baffled look, his face reddens before he straightens the color of his shirt, trying to restore his distinguished air. "It’s the name some of the resort employees gave to the grouchy ostriches in the petting zoo area."

"Of course! Let's go." Kathryn rewards Wyatt with a high five and a dazzling smile and I have to rein in a growl. It’s not that I want her to stop liking them–I think I might have come to terms with that–but I also want to have that look aimed at me.

So I guess I’ll just have to try harder.

At the petting zoo area, Kathryn marches around the pen of spitting ostriches towards a large pile of straw. She spies the next clue peeking out from beneath a large rock at the bottom almost instantly. How does she notice such details?

"Eagle eyes," Wyatt praises, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. But, for some reason, I don’t even so much as bristle as Kathryn bites her lip, cheeks pinking once more. Nope…this time I merely recall the flush of her skin while he spoke such affirmations the night we all spent together and how she unraveled as he did so.

And my cock starts twitching.

I subtly adjust myself and join the other two guys to scan the newest paper over Kat’s shoulder. Wyatt reads aloud, "Flee from Invictus' merciless light, find haven beneath Diana's night."

"Invictus. Invictus. That sounds familiar." Kat’s face suddenly lights up and she spins towards us, her head cocking back to take us all in from her small stature. “That’s Sol Invictus! From Roman mythology! He was an official sun god of the later Roman empire. And Diana was his feminine opposite–goddess of the moon, forests, and the hunt. But…” Her brow furrows in that adorable way. “It’s not night. Find haven beneath Diana’s night…”

"The cabanas on the far north beach." I grunt, earning glances from all three of my companions. “What?”

“Nothing. We’re all just a little surprised you can talk is all.” Wilder drawls as he dramatically widens his eyes at me. “It’s a miracle!”

“How did you know that?” Wyatt asks and, while normally that might be insulting, he simply seems curious.

“I found a baby Coatis stuck over there the other day. It got stuck on top of one.” I scratch at the back of my head and refuse to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Oh my…” I glance up to see Kat’s entire face softening as she gazes at me with awe. “You saved the poor thing.”

“Oh come on! I can save Coatis-es-sis too! Whatever those are,” Wilder proclaims with faux jealousy as she continues staring at me like I just gave her the world. Which is something I find myself wanting to do.

“We might want to keep trekking if we still want to win.” Wyatt clears his throat. Kat looks torn, but she grins and nods.

“You’re right. I refuse to lose.” Though…she seemed for a moment like she was considering it.

We quickly make our way across the resort grounds towards the secluded area filled with private poolside cabanas. Most are unoccupied at this time of day. Kat scans the area intently until she points triumphantly.

"There! It's sticking out of the thatched roof."

The angle is too awkward for her shorter frame to reach easily, so I step forward swiftly and lift her by the hips as if she weighs nothing at all. Her surprised squeak makes me grin.

"Up you go, love."

Ignoring her half-hearted protests, I hoist her higher until she is able to grab the envelope lodged amidst the palm leaves. I take a moment longer than necessary to savor her curves pressed against me before reluctantly lowering her back down.

Kat smiles despite her exaggerated indignation. "My hero," she teases, patting my chest fondly before tearing into the new clue.

"In Amphitrite's kingdom, search below, Where Galene's pools trap treasures that ebb and flow," Kathryn muses aloud. Her beaming smile returns swiftly. "The tidal pools!"

We quickly move out once more, drawing ever nearer to the ultimate hidden treasure and sweet victory. The rocky tidal pools simmer beneath the sun, rippled by ocean currents. Kat scours the area relentlessly until finally discovering the next waterlogged bottle clue wedged beneath a wave-smoothed stone. Not that we were of any help. We are too busy ogling the delightful little spitfire in her little red sundress flapping teasingly in the breeze.

"We must be getting close now," Wyatt notes with satisfaction. I grunt in agreement.

Kat frowns adorably at the slightly wet paper. "Where Nephele's urns overflow, Sirens' songs hint treasures below."

I scan the rocks and foaming surf, stymied. Then movement catches my eye. A school of tiny silver fish dance through the shallow water, weaving an intricate path before disappearing into a dark crevice beneath a rocky outcropping and disappearing.

"There!" I point out the odd formation. Kat's eyes light up.

"Good eye, Em!" Her delight spurs me on.

We pick our way across the slippery rocks until reaching the hidden grotto, the occasional gentle, rogue wave lapping at our ankles. Tiny silver fish dart through the shallow waters around us before fleeing swiftly out to the open ocean. Up ahead, the mouth of the hidden grotto beckons.

As we step inside, the bright tropical sunlight fades, replaced by the grotto's cool emerald glow. The change in temperature raises goosebumps across my skin, made ultra-sensitive by the salty air. Kathryn presses closer to my side instinctively seeking warmth as we pause to take in the ethereal beauty surrounding us.

The cerulean waters of the grotto ripple and dance, casting wavering glows across the cave walls. The smooth stone surfaces shine as if polished by loving hands, though only the elements have caressed this haven. Pristine sandy patches dot the rocky floor, sloping gently deeper into the grotto's heart.

Above our heads, jagged stones drip with mineral deposits built up over centuries of shifting tides. Each spike and ridge glimmers with otherworldly beauty. The outside world feels impossibly far away in this sanctuary that time and sea have carved together.

As all four of us move slowly inward, tiny silver fish dart around our legs before disappearing into shadowy crevices along the waterline. Our hushed breaths echo strangely in the enclosed space, mingling with the lapping tides. The very air feels heavy with mystery and anticipation, as if we’re treading through a sacred place not meant for mortal eyes.

Farther in, the rocky floor of the grotto rises up to form a central mound. As we approach through the chest-high waters, soaked clothes not bothering a single one of us, our prize finally comes into view atop the smooth stone peak.

The polished wooden box, etched with intricate ocean scenes, gleams as if lit from within by an otherworldly light. The water has granted us passage and now beckons us to claim our reward.

Kat's sharp intake of breath echoes off the sloped walls as she breaks away from me and wades eagerly towards the mound. Her movements send ripples skittering outward through the lagoon. Wilder and Wyatt trail close behind, eyes fixed ahead.

As one, we clamber up the slick rock to circle the etched box. A reverent hush descends upon us, the lapping tides and occasional drip of mineral water the only sounds.

After a weighted pause, Kat extends one delicate hand, gaze fixed upon the treasure that was our quest's sole purpose. Yet it no longer feels like the true prize.

Kat's fingertips graze the wooden surface. When she lifts the lid, a simple note proclaiming our victory and an urging to take it back to the meeting place sits among a bed of chocolates, nuts, and a rather expensive looking bottle of champagne.

Kat's answering smile outshines any treasure as she lifts the note high. "We did it!" Her voice rings clear as a bell in the stillness. “We’re a great team!”

But when she glances around, she notices none of us are focused on the victory, instead we’re all gazing adoringly at the woman herself. Her turquoise eyes appear almost ethereal in the emerald light of the cave, her silky skin glowing, and her wavy hair hanging temptingly down her back.

Her throat moves as she swallows thickly beneath our attention, her arm falling to her side as she gazes at each of us in turn. “Uh, guys? What’s going on?”

Chapter 41

My eyes dart between the three men surrounding me, their intense gazes setting my skin aflame. The air is charged with anticipation, emotions laid bare in the glow of the grotto.

Wyatt steps forward first and takes my hand in his, his calloused thumb sweeping over my knuckles in a way that sends pleasant shivers through me.

“Kathryn, this arrangement may have started as a simple business transaction, but what I feel for you now goes far deeper than I could have imagined,” he begins, his stormy eyes piercing mine with sincerity, glimpsing straight into my soul.

“You captivate me. With you, I’ve found a connection beyond anything I believed possible. You make me feel alive.”

He lifts my palm to his lips, brushing a fervent kiss across the sensitive skin that leaves me trembling. “I’m asking you to give this a real chance between us all. I know it sounds ridiculous, unorthodox and…well, so many other things. We’ve even been grappling with the idea between us. But we want to try and see where this takes us. If you’ll have me that is.”

My breath catches at the vulnerable longing laid bare in his voice. Wyatt, always so reserved and proper, now stands before me with his heart on his sleeve, yearning shining clear in those slate gray eyes.

Before I can gather my scattered thoughts to respond, Wilder saunters closer, his azure gaze fixed unwaveringly upon me.

“The man’s got a point, darlin’,” he drawls, grin flickering. “Ain’t none of us willing to lose you. We all want to keep you.”

He reaches out to tuck back a windswept lock of my hair, rough fingertips grazing my cheek, eliciting pleasant shivers.

“You drive me wild in the best possible way, Kitty Kat. I ain’t never met a woman so quick-witted, yet kind-hearted, who can match my impulsive spirit step for step.”

His eyes crease with humor and unveiled affection. “Being with you these last days has not only challenged me in the best ways, but you also ground me when I need it. I know I’m just a reckless cowboy at heart, but I promise to cherish every laugh and adventure we share if you give me the chance to stay at your side.”

My pulse kicks up a notch, heart swelling with emotions I can no longer suppress. I’ve only ever glimpsed flashes of this unexpectedly sincere romantic side to Wilder before. His charming words spark a warmth in my soul I’ve tried in vain to deny, kindling the flickers of hope for more between us into a flame.

Finally, Emrys steps nearer, the heat of his imposing body chasing away the grotto’s chill. His piercing golden gaze bores into me, simmering with poorly concealed longing.

“You’re my spirit mate, my other half,” he confesses bluntly in that gravelly tone that never fails to make my pulse skitter. “I knew it from the start. Never felt this...pull to another before.”

He cups my jaw with unexpected gentleness, rough thumb tracing my lower lip. My knees nearly give out at the tenderness in his touch, so at odds with his usual brooding intensity.

“Don’t make me let you go, Kitten. We belong together, the four of us. You must feel it too.” His heartfelt plea leaves me stunned. I’ve longed to unravel the mysteries lurking beneath this primal, enigmatic man’s silent exterior. To realize I affect him as profoundly as he does me is overwhelming.

Silence falls in the wake of their bold confessions, the ball now in my court. Three fascinating men gaze at me with naked longing plainly written across their handsome features, throwing caution to the wind and laying their hearts at my feet without reservation.

It's terrifying, yet exhilarating. They’ve cracked through my armor, glimpsing the vulnerable romantic spirit I guard so closely.

My fears and insecurities urge me to flee this intensity before I lose myself completely, to protect my fractured heart from potential devastation. But my reckless romantic spirit shouts louder, reminding me to embrace the possibilities instead of bracing for disaster–to stop starving it like I have for so long.

These three men seem to truly see me, flaws and all. They’ve awakened passions, desires and dreams I never dared give name to before we collided in this unexpected twist of fate. I cannot imagine shutting the door on it now, returning to my neatly ordered, but lonely existence. The temptation whispers–is it not better to have loved and lost than never loved at all?

I take a deep breath.

“Asking a lady to juggle the three of you is quite the tall order,” I tease lightly, allowing a spark of playfulness to lift the emotional moment.

Relief flashes across all their handsome features at my spirited response and the lingering tension dissipates. These men know me well enough already to recognize I do not give in easily, even to my own heart.

I soften my tone, holding each of their gazes one at a time. "Okay look, I know this whole thing is crazy. It’s weird. It’s…” I trail off, whirling my pointer finger in a circle around my head. “Me and three smokin' hot guys? That's the stuff of romance novel fantasies, not real life."

"I know I can be a neurotic mess of anxieties and insecurities sometimes. Not exactly suave seductress material. But somehow, you three make me feel brave and desirable anyway." I shake my head, laughing a little at the absurdity of it all. "You see beneath the messy clutter in my head and just get me, you know? I don't have to pretend or hide parts of myself from you guys. And that means something."

"I know this goes against every rule of society and all competent reasoning. But hey, haven’t you noticed how crazy we Sharpes are in general?" I admit with a choked laugh, looking down at my wringing hands in front of me. The victory note long since dropped to the cool ground beneath my feet.

"So if you guys are willing to try. Well…then I am too. Though fair warning–I ramble non-stop when I'm nervous, I snort like a pig when I really laugh, and my temper has literally made grown men cry. Sure you're up for the challenge?"

My cheeks flush as I finish my rambling confession, heart pounding in my chest. Their bold vulnerability emboldened me to lay my own desires bare, though admitting such unconventional yearnings aloud still leaves me jittery with nerves.

The men regard me steadily, affection and humor mingling in their heated stares. Wyatt steps forward, clasping my hand in his larger one.

"We accept every piece of you, neuroses and all," he declares solemnly, stormy eyes crinkling. Despite my anxious energy, his steadying touch centers me.

Wilder sidles closer, slinging an arm around my shoulders and tugging me against him playfully. "We're all a little crazy here, darlin'. But crazy sure is exciting with you." His drawl caresses my senses, blue eyes sparkling with delight at my acquiescence.

Emrys simply gazes at me, the searing hunger in his green and golden stare causing my knees to weaken. His lips brush my hair, his raspy murmur meant for me alone. "We'll take good care of you Kitten, in every way imaginable."

A powerful shiver wracks my frame at the blatant promise in his voice, my frenzied thoughts urging me to flee this intense war with my body's demands to get even closer. I've opened the floodgates now, there's no going back.

Wyatt tilts my chin up, eyes questioning. "Too much, too fast? We can slow down, take things at your pace." Despite the concern in his tone, his stormy stare devours me.

I shake my head, my reckless desires drowning out the last feeble warnings of reason. We stand balanced on the edge of an erotic freefall, and my body screams to leap into the decadent unknown.

I trail my fingers down Wyatt's chest teasingly, feeling a bit smug when his breath hitches. "I want this. I want you...all of you." My bold admission hangs heavy in the air.

In an instant, Wyatt crushes his lips to mine, all traces of restraint abandoned. I melt into his commanding kiss, yielding to the fervent worship of his mouth. Distantly, I'm aware of Emrys molding himself to my back, his large hands spanning my waist possessively as his teeth graze my throbbing pulse point.

Wilder's palms skim my thighs, rucking up my soaked sundress inch by torturous inch and eliciting breathy cries into Wyatt's ravaging mouth. When Wilder's fingers at last brush my damp core, my knees nearly give out.

"So responsive already, and we've barely started," Wilder chuckles darkly.

Wyatt's kiss consumes me, his tongue plundering my mouth relentlessly as his deft fingers make quick work of my sundress tie. The fabric falls away, exposing my still-damp breasts to the cool cave air and their hungry gazes.

Emrys growls his approval, the feral sound sparking heat low in my belly. His rough palms skim my newly bared skin, thumbs brushing my taut nipples and wrenching a pleasured gasp from me. My back arches, pressing my breasts further into his calloused hands.

Frantic with desire, I tear at the front of Wyatt's shirt, needing to feel his hard body against mine. He shrugs the material off and crushes me closer, our bare chests colliding. The contact makes me dizzy.

Emrys palms my breasts almost brutally, pinching the sensitive peaks until they ache and I'm writhing mindlessly between them. Wyatt's thigh presses between my legs, the friction hitting just right against my throbbing clit through the thin barrier of my panties. I grind shamelessly against him, chasing more of that delicious pressure.

Wilder falls to his knees, hands greedy as they smooth up my thighs and hook in my panties. He growls at the slick evidence of my desire before tearing the lace right off of my body, the cool air on my exposed sex making me shiver.

"So perfect," Wilder rasps, hot breath teasing my tender flesh. I make an impatient sound of need, trying to direct him where I need him most. But he avoids that sensitive nub, instead sucking a mark into my inner thigh that borders on painful. I'm helpless to do anything but take the exquisite torture they inflict.

Sensing my desperation, Wyatt fists my hair tightly, wrenching my head back to meet his smoldering stare. "You don't get to come until I allow it," he reminds me, his gray eyes burning with dominance.

Emrys lifts me effortlessly until my legs wrap around Wyatt's hips, his thick arousal now nestled directly against my soaked entrance where I need him most. We both groan harshly at the intimate contact, so close yet not enough.

"Keep your eyes on mine," Wyatt commands roughly. Helpless to resist, I hold his stormy gaze as he pushes inside, stretching and filling me deep and hard. The unrelenting eye contact as he claims me makes me tremble, the vulnerability almost too much to bear.

But Wyatt shows no mercy, quickly building to a relentless punishing tempo that has me writhing and keening as Emrys forces me open and in place for him. The obscene sound of slick flesh meeting echoes off the cave walls, interspersed with my pleasured cries. I'm trapped in his gaze, pinned and ravaged simultaneously by his cock and Emrys’ unyielding hold.

When my climax crests, crashing over me violently, Wyatt doesn't falter–fucking me straight through the intensity. I'm reduced to choked sobs, overstimulated nerves sparking with each rough thrust.

He clicks his tongue, eyes darkening even more as he shakes his head at me. "Bad. Bad. Girl. Did I say you could come?”

Wyatt's harsh reprimand sends a bolt of heat straight to my core even as aftershocks continue to wrack my frame. I stare at him wide-eyed, still breathless and trembling from my illicit climax.

"I'm s-sorry, I couldn't stop it," I gasp out. But the blaze of hunger in his eyes warns me my disobedience won't go unpunished.

Wyatt braces his hands beneath my thighs and lifts me effortlessly off his cock and out of Emrys’ firm hold. Placing me feet on the floor, I stumble on shaky legs, cheeks flaming.

"On your knees," Wyatt commands sharply. I obey without hesitation, arousal and unease mixing within me.

Once I'm positioned before him submissively, Wyatt grips a fistful of my hair, angling my face up to meet his dangerous stare. "Open that pretty mouth, pet."

I part my swollen lips eagerly. With his other hand, Wyatt guides his thick cock to my waiting tongue. I take him in greedily, tasting my release on him as I swirl my tongue and suck in apology.

Wyatt's eyes blaze down at me, his own pleasure tightly leashed. "Look at you on your knees, so eager to make amends." His gravelly praise sends a pleasurable shiver through me.

I continue lavishing him thoroughly, gazing up submissively. When his hips buck forward and he hits the back of my throat, I suppress my reflex to gag and relax my throat to take him deeper still, breathing hard through my nose.

"That's it, just like that," Wyatt grits out approvingly, guiding my efforts with a fist tangled in my hair. I'm utterly lost in my task of pleasuring him, determined to earn his forgiveness.

Just then, I feel hands on my hips from behind as I’m lifted to a standing position bent at the waist. Wilder lets out a low chuckle right before a sharp stinging blow radiates on my ass as I scream around Wyatt’s cock–the ache blending perfectly with pleasure. Another succession of quick slaps follow the first before his palm is gently rubbing away the sting, leaving me a dripping, mewling mess.

Without further warning, he drives into me hard and deep in one smooth stroke. I cry out around Wyatt's thickness, the dual sensations pushing me rapidly back to the edge as I grab onto Wyatt’s hips for stability.

Sensing how close I am already, Wyatt jerks my hair roughly. "You don't get to come again until I give the word. Behave."

I whine in dismay, but redouble my efforts on him. Each punishing thrust from Wilder jolts me forward, forcing me to take Wyatt deeper down my throat. Drool leaks from my lips obscenely as I struggle not to climax again too soon. I am caught in an exquisite torture, overwhelmed with sensation, yet denied the release my body craves.

Just when I think I can't take anymore, Emrys moves to the side of me. With a wolfish grin, his tattooed hand cups my throbbing sex. I jolt at even that light contact on my sensitized flesh.

Emrys’ finger traces maddening circles around my swollen clit as Wilder's pace grows increasingly brutal behind me. Wyatt's length invades my mouth in time with each snap of Wilder's hips. It's all too much. I'm trapped on the knife edge, every nerve ending sparking, ready to combust into oblivion.

Sensing my unraveling, Wyatt finally takes mercy, giving me the command I desperately need, "Come for us, pet."

His gravelly order hurls me over the edge once more. My release crashes through me violently as I swallow around him. Wyatt groans harshly and grips my hair tightly as he spills down my throat in long, hot spurts. I greedily take everything he gives. Behind me, Wilder's thrusts grow erratic before he finds his own shattering climax, fingers digging almost painfully into my hips as he empties himself inside my quivering walls.

“Good girl,” Wyatt’s voice is soft and smooth as he retreats from my mouth, tone filled with affection and approval before he strokes my hair out of my face. Wilder moves closer behind me as they pepper me with soft kisses and gentle touches.

I lean into their touches for a moment before Emrys is stepping forward, hunger etched into every one of his features. Muscles bunching and tight as he towers over me, he snatches me from Wilder and Wyatt’s hold, before moving me to the floor of the cave with surprising gentleness. Resting his hand beneath my head, he waits until I’m situated to remove it.

Emrys' eyes blaze with feral hunger as he pins me beneath his hulking frame. A guttural sound rumbles from his chest before his mouth claims mine ruthlessly, devouring me. His tongue invades forcefully, a tangible promise of how he'll take my body.

Rough hands claw at my flushed skin as he descends on my breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth until I'm writhing. His tongue soothes the ache before he switches his attention to the other peak, lavishing it with equal fervor.

My back bows, seeking more of that exquisite torment. Emrys growls his approval, the vibration against my sensitive flesh making me dizzy with need.

With feline grace he begins kissing down my torso, nipping sharply at my hip bones before parting my thighs with purpose. His hot breath teases my slick folds and I gasp, fingers twisting in his hair urgently. Uncaring of the evidence Wilder left behind, Emrys chuckles darkly before his tongue takes one long, devastating swipe through my throbbing sex. I cry out raggedly, teetering on the edge of oblivion already.

Mercilessly, he begins feasting on my core, alternating broad strokes with quick flicks over my swollen clit that drive me to the brink again and again. Just before I tip over the edge each time, he backs off, denying me my release.

After an age of pleasurable torture, I'm reduced to desperately grinding against his face, silently begging for relief. Sensing my unraveling, Emrys finally takes pity on me and seals his lips around my aching clit, sucking hard as two thick fingers fill me to the knuckle.

The dual sensations trigger a violent orgasm that whites out my vision, forcing me to keen Emrys' name to the cave walls as my thighs clamp around his head helplessly. Still, he works me through every aftershock until I'm boneless beneath him.

Before I can catch my breath, Emrys braces himself over me, golden eyes burning. With an animalistic snarl, he drives his thick cock into my soaked depths in one relentless stroke. I scream raggedly at the sudden invasion, stretched to the limit by his size. Grasping my hips in a punishing grip, he uses my body ruthlessly as he fucks into me again and again.

My senses are overwhelmed by the primal claiming of his thick length pounding my willing flesh. Another climax crashes through me violently and Emrys swallows my broken cries with his mouth, muffling them. He fucks me straight through it, pace brutal and thorough.

His name spills from me on a scream as he claims me with raw urgency. I'm pinned and ravaged beneath the merciless drive of his cock impaling me again and again. The thick ridge hits deep inside me perfectly with each brutal thrust, sending sparks of ecstasy bursting through every nerve.

Emrys braces himself over me, muscles rippling, staring down with unveiled hunger as he fucks me into oblivion. His gaze dares me to keep up, to take everything he's unleashing.

“More!” I rasp, digging my nails into his shoulders.

With a feral snarl, he lifts my thighs over his broad shoulders, plunging deeper still. The new angle has my eyes rolling back, the unrelenting stimulation almost too much to bear as the thick head of his cock hits my cervix. He pounds into my core relentlessly, every nerve lighting up with ecstasy.

Emrys' tempo grows increasingly punishing as my walls clamp and spasm around him. Just when I think I can't take anymore, another devastating release rips through me. I scream his name raggedly, hands digging into his hair and holding on for dear life. Still, he shows no mercy, angling his hips to rub over my swollen clit with each stroke.

With a guttural groan, Emrys slams into me viciously once more before stilling, his release spilling hot and deep inside my convulsing center. I let out a shattered wail, trembling violently through the aftershocks.

We remain suspended in blissful oblivion for endless moments as our hearts gradually slow until he finally withdraws. I'm limp and sated–thoroughly claimed–but I manage to somehow reach a hand up and brush a lock of his hair out of his face, my hand lingering on his cheek. He gazes down at me, the passionate haze clearing from his eyes before he turns his head to press a fervent kiss to my palm, a glimpse of unexpected gentleness beneath the primal intensity.

Suddenly, Emrys is bumped out of view with a loud grunt. “Stop hogging her.” A grinning Wilder enters my line of sight, gazing down at me with blue eyes full of affection moments before he’s pulling me to my feet and into his arms.

Another set wraps around me from behind and I melt back against Wyatt's sturdy frame, savoring his steadying presence. His lips find the sensitive spot beneath my ear, eliciting pleasant shivers.

"That was...quite something," Wyatt murmurs, voice tinged with humor and unveiled affection.I duck my head, cheeks warming, but Wyatt tilts my face back up gently. "You were exquisite," he affirms earnestly, his steel gray eyes crinkling around the edges.

"Too right, she's a spitfire through and through," Wilder’s drawl caresses my senses. "But I reckon I could go for round two." He waggles his eyebrows outrageously and I swat at his shoulder, laughing.

Just like that, the moment stretches easy and warm between us. Here, tangled together, I feel safe, desired, understood–like I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.

Chapter 42

The clink of glasses and the murmur of conversation wrap around me like a warm blanket as I navigate through the sea of family and friends–a lot of which just arrived last night or early this morning for the actual wedding. The air is thick with excitement, laced with that faint edge of nerves that always comes with big events.

Annabelle and Ethan's rehearsal dinner is in full swing, and here I am, caught in a whirlwind of romance and an unconventional love that has everyone whispering. The Sharpes don’t care, they’re pretty open and accepting, but the new arrivals? Well…they’re not so predictable.

Add to that…there’s a few members of the press scattered around. Considering it’s pretty big news to have a Sharpe heiress getting married. Luckily, Annabelle is far better in the spotlight than I am. She’s practically radiant beneath all the attention aimed her way.

"Kathryn, you look stunning," Wyatt murmurs, his voice wrapping around my name like silk. His hand finds the small of my back, a touch so familiar and intimate it sends a shiver down my spine.

"Thanks to you," I quip back, leaning into his embrace for a moment. "If it weren't for your impeccable ability to tame my hair..."

I trail off as Wilder slides in beside us, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "And what about my contributions?" He teases, looping an arm around my shoulders. "Who do you think taught you that thing you do with your–"

"Easy," Emrys cuts in smoothly, his hand grazing mine, sparking a current that jolts straight to my heart. "Let's not reveal all our secrets."

Laughter bubbles up from my lips as I revel in the warmth of these three men who have become my everything. We exchange looks filled with promises and private jokes, a silent language developed over stolen moments and shared dreams.

But before I can sink even deeper into the comfort of our connection, the soft music that fills the room comes to an abrupt stop. Heads turn, conversations falter, and there's a sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Brody stumbles into the room, every bit the picture of drunken arrogance. My stomach tightens, a visceral reaction to the intrusion of this unwelcome ghost from my past. His eyes are glazed over, but when they land on me, there's a disturbing clarity within them–a focused malice that sets my nerves on edge.

"Look at this happy bunch," he slurs, voice dripping with disdain. A hush falls over the crowd as Brody makes a beeline for the small stage that has a couple large screens and microphones, which until moments ago had been displaying sweet snapshots of Annabelle and Ethan.

"Isn't this supposed to be a celebration of love?" Brody sneers, reaching out to fumble with the equipment.

I can feel Wilder, Wyatt, and Emrys tense beside me, their protective instincts kicking in.

"This can’t be good," I mutter under my breath, feeling their agreement more than seeing it, our bond a silent strength that we'll need to draw on now more than ever.

As Brody's fingers finally hit the right button, and the screen flickers ominously, I know we're on the brink of something. Whether it's disaster or just another hurdle, only time will tell. But one thing's for sure–I won't let Brody ruin this night for Annabelle and Ethan. Not if I have anything to say about it.

The projector's hum is the only sound that fills the sudden silence as Brody, with a triumphant smirk plastered on his drunken face, flips the switch. The images of Annabelle and Ethan's tender moments dissolve into a single, blown-up photo of me in bed with Emrys, Wilder, and Wyatt. I'm nestled between them, an innocent snapshot of our unconventional but real affection. The room gasps collectively, a cacophony of shock bouncing off the walls as the adjacent screen flickers, revealing scanned documents stamped with the Book-A-Boyfriend logo.

"Here's the truth about your darling Kat," Brody bellows, his voice echoing through the now icy ballroom. "She's nothing but a whore playing house with her three prostitutes!"

His words are venom, spitting out each syllable like it's poison he's been dying to unleash. The murmur amongst the guests swells into an uproar of whispers and judgments. Cameras begin to flash from the press and I know they’re probably recording too.

By midnight, this moment will be filtered out into the news cycle, probably twisted and rewritten to be even more scandalous than it really is. Everyone is going to see this by morning.

"Whore?" Wilder's jaw clenches, the muscle ticking in a silent promise of the fury he's holding back. Wyatt's hand tightens around his wine glass, knuckles whitening, until it shatters completely. When Emrys steps forward, a violent glint sharpening his already menacing gaze, I put out a hand.

"Guys," I say, my voice steady despite the chaos Brody's trying to orchestrate. "Don't give him the satisfaction." I place a hand on each of their arms, grounding them, my touch a reminder of the unity we've built against all odds.

"Kat-" Wilder starts, but I cut him off with a look.

"Trust me," I tell them firmly, my gaze locked onto theirs. "I've got this."

They exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between them before they nod. There's an unspoken agreement in the way they let me take the lead, understanding that this moment isn't just about defending our love–it's about reclaiming the narrative Brody's so desperate to twist.

"Let her handle it," I hear Wyatt whisper to the others, and I don't need to see their nods of assent to know they're with me.

With each of Brody's venomous words slicing through the air, my world tilts on its axis. But as he stands there, smirking like a cat that got the cream, something within me snaps into razor-sharp focus. I let out a breath and start to make my way toward him, my heels clicking a steady rhythm on the polished floor. I can feel Emrys, Wyatt, and Wilder's gazes burning holes into my back, but I need to do this alone.

My heart slams against my ribs, yet my face is an unreadable mask. I close in on Brody, and I see it–the flicker of doubt in his eyes as I draw nearer without uttering a single word. He's expecting a breakdown, tears, or a screaming match. What he doesn't anticipate is the calm before the storm–that I'm the storm.

"Kathy," he sneers. "I always knew you were a dirty who-"

The distance between us disappears. My fist clenches instinctively, tight as a drum. It's as though I'm watching myself from outside my body, a spectator to the inevitable. And then, with all the force of every pent-up frustration and insult he's ever hurled my way, my right hook connects with his jaw.

The sound cracks through the tension in the room like a whip. Brody's head snaps to the side, his shock echoing the collective gasp that ripples through our audience. Even in my own ears, the impact rings with a note of finality, a period at the end of a long, ugly sentence.

Let's be clear–I'm not usually one for violence. I pride myself on sharp comebacks and smarter exits, but some moments call for more than wit. They require action. And as Brody staggers back and falls to his ass, his hand flying to his reddening cheek, I know that punch was for every woman who's ever been reduced to less than she is by a man with too much entitlement and not enough sense.

I stand my ground, shoulders squared and chin high, the murmurs around me crescendoing into a bewildered chorus. But when I glance over to where Annabelle and Ethan are standing–the bride and groom forgotten in this fiasco–I catch something unexpected. A flash of triumph in their eyes, a silent cheer for the girl who's just shattered expectations with her bare knuckles.

And there, amidst the chaos, I find a strange serenity. Because no matter what comes next, I've already won.

The mic lies on the floor, a casualty of the war Brody started. My hand, still tingling from the contact with his jaw, reaches down and plucks it up as if it’s nothing more than a dropped napkin. The room shifts into an eerie silence, every eye fixed on me, waiting for my next move.

"Sorry about that," I say, injecting a bit of levity into the tension-soaked air. "I don't usually do encores."

I take a steadying breath, the kind you draw in when you're about to dive off a cliff—or in my case, expose your heart to a room full of wedding guests and three men who've become so much more than just hired dates. Wilder stands poised like he's ready to wrestle any demon or dragon for me, his adrenaline junkie heart probably pumping at the thought of the new adventure we're embarking on. Wyatt's intense gaze anchors me, reminding me of the strength that comes from surviving battles of the heart. And Emrys, with a protective glint in his eyes, waits for my cue, ready to unleash the beast if I order it.

"Look," I say, voice steady as a heartbeat. "You've all seen something tonight that's private, and it's been twisted into a spectacle."

A murmur ripples through the crowd, but I hold up a hand, manicured nails catching the light. "Yes, I hired them," I confess, gesturing to Wilder, Wyatt, and Emrys. "But not for the reasons you're thinking. This started as a fake relationship—three, actually. A way to avoid the endless questions, the pitying looks about my single status."

Emrys shifts, his usual stoic expression tight with worry. Wilder's jaw clenches–I can tell he's itching to turn this dinner into a brawl. And Wyatt...he stands tall, ex-lawyer that he is, ready to defend our case.

"But somewhere along the line," I continue. "Something real happened. Something shifted. Feelings grew—real, messy, wonderful feelings. These guys," I flick a glance over at them. "They showed me there are different kinds of adventures in life." My voice softens, a smile tugging at my lips as I think of everything we’ve shared together in such a short amount of time.

"Each of them brought out a side of me I didn't know I needed. With Wilder, I got back that fun part of myself. The one who is down for adventure and excitement. With Wyatt, I learned the value of patience and trust after heartbreak as well as how it feels to be understood and treasured. And Emrys reminded me that sometimes being vulnerable is the strongest thing you can be, while also somehow completing the passionate part of me."

The room is still now, every pair of eyes locked on me as if I'm revealing the secrets of the universe. But these are just the secrets of my heart.

"Judgment is easy," I say, my voice ringing clear. "Understanding takes effort. Is it unconventional? Sure. Unexpected? Absolutely. But genuine."

I swallow hard, feeling the prickle of tears I refuse to shed. "You can call me names, you can mock or scorn us, but you can't deny the truth. We found something special, something that doesn't fit into neat little rows. And I won't apologize for that."

I hear my voice crack just a touch, but it doesn't matter. This is raw, this is real, and there's no turning back now. "We found a connection, genuine and undeniable. It's unconventional, sure. Some might even call it scandalous." A corner of my mouth lifts in a wry smile. "But love doesn't check boxes or follow rules. And neither do I."

There's power in standing here, in laying my soul bare before friends and family. Maybe once, I would have cowered under their judgment, but not anymore. Not with Wilder, Wyatt, and Emrys at my back.

And Brody still groaning on the ground behind me.

I catch Wilder's eye, his own twinkling with that thrill-seeker spark that urges me to dive headfirst into the unknown. Wyatt's gentle nod gives me the courage to stand tall, his quiet resilience reminding me of what we've weathered together. And Emrys, ever the enigma, simply smiles, that soft expression telling me more than words ever could.

"Life's too short for half measures. And when it comes to them, I'm all in." I declare, the mic a conduit for my newfound conviction. "Now, let's get back to celebrating Annabelle and Ethan. Because today is about love–their love–and that's something we should all get behind."

With that, I set the microphone back in its stand, a decisive click sounding the end of my confession, the end of letting others narrate my story. I turn and stride toward Wilder, Wyatt, and Emrys, with my head held high.

"Let's get out of here," I whisper to them, and together, we turn toward the rest of the evening–a night meant for celebration, for love, and for the unexpected joy of finding everything you never knew you needed.

We stride toward the exit, our steps synchronized in silent solidarity. The murmurs of the crowd fade behind us, inconsequential against the heartbeat thrumming in my ears. We step out into the cool evening, the night brimming with possibilities, and I can't help but think–this is where our story truly begins.

The elevator to the hotel suite slides shut behind us, sealing off the chaos of the outside world as we return to our temporary haven. I lean back against the wall beside it, my breaths coming in short bursts from the adrenaline still coursing through me. Wilder's hands find my shoulders, pulling me away from the wall and kneading away the tension with a gentleness that belies his rugged exterior.

"Hey," he says softly, tilting my chin up. "You okay?"

I nod, letting out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I just punched a guy at a rehearsal dinner. Totally normal evening."

Wilder grins, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw. "You were incredible out there."

Before I can bask in the praise, Wyatt appears with four glasses of champagne and hands one to each of us. Emrys stands by the floor-to-ceiling window, moonlight casting his features in a soft glow as he watches us with an unreadable expression.

"Here's to Kat," Wyatt declares, raising his glass. "The most badass woman we know."

"Cheers to that," Emrys adds, his voice a warm rumble that fills the room as he returns to our little circle.

We clink our glasses together, the sound crisp in the silent suite. I take a sip, the bubbles tickling my nose, and it feels like the first full breath I've taken all night.

Wilder pulls me into a loose embrace, his chest a comforting wall against my back. "We meant what we said, Kat. We're here for you. All of us."

Wyatt nods, his eyes holding mine with unwavering support. "No matter what, we stick together."

Emrys steps closer, his hand finding mine, his touch grounding. "We won't let anyone hurt you. Not now, not ever."

Their words wrap around me like a protective cloak, and something inside me unfurls–a sense of belonging I hadn't realized I'd been missing. These men, so different yet so perfectly attuned to me, have become my anchors in a sea of uncertainty.

"And I'll protect you guys too. We're a team."

"More than that," Wyatt says, his gaze deepening. "We're a family."

"An unconventional one, but yeah," Emrys agrees, his lips quirking up in a smile.

"Unconventional is my middle name," I quip, feeling a lightness return to my spirit.

"Actually, it's Marie. I just learned that," Wilder corrects with a proud chuckle, and we all burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls, filling the room with life.

The night stretches on, each moment weaving us tighter together. The conversation flows easily, mixed with moments of comfortable silence. We talk about everything and nothing–our dreams, our fears, the silly little details of our lives.

Wilder shares his latest adventure plans, his eyes alive with excitement. Wyatt discusses a book he's been reading, his passion for justice and truth as evident as ever. Emrys contemplates the constellations visible from the window, musing on the vastness of the universe.

And me? I'm right where I belong, amidst their love and laughter, feeling more myself than I have in years.

As dawn creeps up on us, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, we're still entwined on the couch, a tangled mess of limbs and contented sighs. Their commitment to me, to us, is palpable, a tangible force that strengthens my resolve.

"Thank you," I murmur into the quietness. "For everything."

"Always," they say, almost in unison, and we fall into a peaceful slumber, our hearts beating as one in the soft embrace of the morning light.

Chapter 43

The zipper of the bridesmaid dress hisses shut, a snug cocoon of soft blush pink satin encasing me. I glance in the mirror, heart doing a tap dance in my chest. Excitement bubbles through my veins like champagne, but there's a twist of nerves too. It's not every day your sister marries the love of her life.

"Kat, you look stunning," Annabelle gushes from behind me, her hands delicately resting on my shoulders.

I meet her gaze in the reflection, a soft smile curving my lips. "This is nothing compared to you. Ethan's going to lose his mind when he sees you."

She giggles, a sound as effervescent as the mimosas we sipped on this morning. Her wedding dress, a masterpiece of lace and dreams, makes her glow like she's been dipped in moonlight. "I'm so glad you're here with me," she says, sincerity painting her words like the finest brush strokes.

"Where else would I be?" I squeeze her hands, sharing a moment that’s more than just sisterly love–it’s a bond, unbreakable and fierce.

A knock at the door pulls us from our bubble. "Just a sec!"

I turn to smile brightly at Annabelle. “I’d wish you luck, but I know you don’t need it. You and Ethan are just meant to be. Focus on him and the rest will fall into place. I love you, Demon-Doll!”

She beams at me, murmuring shakily, “I love you too, Kit-Kat.” I pull her into a tight hug, being careful not to ruffle her hair or smear her make-up, and then I spin to answer the door. My footsteps are light, almost prancing–with each step, as the anticipation of the day builds.

Swinging the door open, I greet the wedding coordinator, who informs me that it’s time to line up and start the ceremony. With one last look in the mirror, I take a deep breath, gather the courage that comes from knowing I have the best backup anyone could ask for, and step into the day that will change everything–not just for Annabelle, but for me too.

We stop in the hallway outside of where the ceremony is taking place and, after the coordinator enters the room, the door closes behind her. With whatever unseen cue she gives, all conversation halts and the music cue starts playing. After a few more moments, the doors slide open to where everyone is gathered.

With one last squeeze to Annebelle’s hand, I glide into the sunlit atrium, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor, and the buzz of conversation fades as eyes turn to me. The wedding venue is a brilliant display of Annabelles rose gold color theme, a masterpiece painted with lush florals and ribbons of silk that dance in the gentle breeze. Sunbeams filter through the glass ceiling, casting a heavenly glow over the guests who are gathered in their finery, their faces alight with joy and anticipation.

The air is heavy with the scent of the salty air and blooming florals, which are woven into garlands that drape elegantly along the aisle. I can’t help but marvel at the transformation of this space; it’s like stepping into a secret garden, one where every leaf and petal has been placed with the utmost care to create an oasis of celebration.

My heart thrums a nervous beat, but as I continue to walk, something incredible happens. My nerves melt away, replaced by an unshakable confidence that surges through me like liquid courage. Each step is more assured than the last, my gown whispering around my legs as I make my way down the aisle, flanked by Ethan's best man. He offers a supportive smile, but my focus is elsewhere.

There, standing like proud sentinels among the sea of guests, are Emrys, Wyatt, and Wilder. Their eyes lock onto mine, each pair telling its own story.

Wilder’s gaze holds a spark of adventure, a mischievous glint that says he's ready for whatever comes next. His tailored suit hugs his frame, hinting at the strength beneath, and his presence alone steadies my pulse.

Wyatt's eyes, warm and inviting, reflect a tenderness that wraps around me like a comforting embrace. He stands tall and elegant, the epitome of charm in his crisp attire, and there's no mistaking the pride shining in his gaze, as if to say, That's our girl.

And then there's Emrys, his intense stare cutting through the distance between us. There's a raw edge to him, like a storm on the horizon, but today it's tempered with a softness reserved only for moments like this. His half-smirk is a silent promise of the passion and protection he brings to our tangled quartet.

I draw in a breath, soaking up their silent affirmations. They're here for me, for us, and knowing that emboldens me further. As I pass them, I allow myself a small, conspiratorial smile, acknowledging the private world we've built together amidst this public display of affection and ceremony.

With each step, the whispers of lace and chiffon from my dress join the symphony of sights and sounds that make up Annabelle's big day. But in my heart, it's not just her fairytale unfolding–it's the beginning of my own unconventional happily ever after.

As I take my place at the beautiful wedding arch, I smile softly at Ethan, who looks like he’s going to puke out his guts any second. He tries to smile back, but he fails miserably, swallowing thickly the entire time the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen take their own walks down the aisle.

When the last person is in place, the music switches and his eyes widen as he turns to look at the now closed doors where we all came from. I chuckle under my breath as he turns a weird shade of green when they fly open and reveal my sister in all her bridal beauty.

Moisture fills his eyes, warming me straight to my bones. If there was ever any doubt that this is the man for Annabelle–there wasn’t–then it would be erased ten-fold at the look on his face. Nerves melt away like they were never there, overtaken by a devoted and deep state of love and admiration.

He can’t stop the torrent of tears, and neither can she, as their eyes connect through a room full of people.

It’s beautiful.

As she reaches him, my father placing her hand into Ethan’s in a symbolic moment of giving away his daughter to the next man who is charged with keeping her safe, the officiant's voice booms through the venue, a deep and resonant tide that pulls us all into the current of Annabelle and Ethan's love story. They stand before one another, hands clasped, eyes glazed with tears and joy. My sister, in her gown of ivory and lace, is ethereal–like a dream spun from the threads of pure happiness.

"Annabelle, do you take Ethan to be your lawfully wedded husband..." The words ripple out, but I'm only half-listening, my attention snagged by the trio of heartbeats that sync with mine.

"Forever and always," Annabelle vows, slipping a band onto Ethan's finger–a circle of promise that gleams even in the soft, filtered light.

"By the power vested in me, I name you man and wife. You may now-" The officiant doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Ethan is all over Annabelle, drawing chuckles and cheers from the large gathering as they put the final seal on their union.

* * *

At the reception, the festivities are in full swing, and I find myself adrift in a sea of congratulations and champagne flutes. But it's the quiet anchor of Wyatt's hand at the small of my back that steadies me. His fingers draw invisible patterns across the fabric of my dress, a private Morse code that spells out his longing in a room crowded with witnesses.

"Look at you, dazzling as ever," he murmurs when we're finally alone in the corner, his voice a velvet whisper that sends shivers dancing up my spine.

"Only because I can see myself in your eyes," I tease, leaning into his solidity.

Wilder catches my eye from across the room, his gaze electric and charged with an unspoken challenge. He raises his glass to me, a silent toast that says tonight will be anything but predictable. I toss him a wink–my own brand of dare–and watch as his smile widens, a testament to the adventures that await.

"Careful, Kat," Wilder calls over, a playful drawl threaded with the promise of later escapades. "You might just outshine the bride."

"Wouldn't dream of it. You take that back!" I snipe back, but our shared laughter belies the levity.

Emrys finds me as the evening wanes, his presence magnetic. His hand brushes against mine, casual yet deliberate. Our fingers entwine, a secret held within our palms.

"Your sister looks happy," he observes, a note of earnest affection underscoring his words.

"She sure does," I reply, eyeing the couple of the day as they forget the room around them exists and stare into each other’s eyes.

"So do you," Emrys says, drawing my attention as his gaze holds mine captive. In that one look, there's a world of promises yet to be fulfilled, and I know, without doubt, that each will be savored in its own time.

The music swells, a pulsating rhythm that beckons the wedding guests to the dance floor like moths to a flame. I watch as Annabelle and Ethan share their first dance, laughter bubbling from my lips as he dips her, a touch dramatic but oh so right for them. The room is alive with the clinking of glasses, the rustle of silk dresses, and the soft shuffle of dancing feet.

"May I?" Wilder's voice is smooth as honeyed whiskey, his hand held out to me, eyes gleaming with that familiar thrill-seeking spark.

"Thought you'd never ask," I reply, placing my hand in his. As we step onto the dance floor, I can't help but admire how the lights catch the many shades and depth to the blue in his eyes.

He leads me in a dance that's more about fun than formality. Our movements are bold and unrestrained, matching the wildness that always seems to simmer between us. He spins me out and then pulls me back, leaving me breathless with laughter. It's a dance that speaks of zipline adventures and impromptu road trips–of living on the edge and loving every second of it.

As the song fades, Wilder dips me low, and for a moment, the room tilts on its axis. "Never a dull moment with you, Kat," he whispers against my ear before righting me with a grin.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I shoot back, my french-tipped nails grazing his shoulder.

The moment Wilder releases me, Wyatt steps forward, his demeanor calm and steady like a lighthouse beacon guiding ships home. His hand encases mine, and we move together in a slow, measured waltz. Where Wilder is chaos, Wyatt is order–a balance that steadies my often tumultuous world. The warmth in his gaze is a silent testament to the quieter moments we've shared, the deep conversations that can last forever. With each step, each turn, I'm reminded of the solidity he provides, an anchor amidst life's storms.

"Always the perfect partner," I murmur, leaning into his hold.

"Only for you," he responds, and there’s a promise in those words, one that goes beyond the dance floor.

Finally, as Wyatt's song ends, Emrys appears before me, his hand extended with cat-like grace. Taking it, I’m drawn into an elegant dance, our bodies syncing with an ease born from mutual respect and shared ambitions. He guides me through the dance, each step a word in the silent language we've created just for us. His touch is sure, his movements precise–mirroring the meticulous nature he brings to everything he does.

"Kat, you're radiant tonight," Emrys says, his voice a soft caress that sends shivers down my spine.

"I’m pretty sure you’ve said that like a hundred times," I tease lightly, though my heart thrums at the sincerity in his tone.

"True," he concedes, a sly smile playing on his lips. "But that doesn’t make it any less true."

The song crescendos around us, and I'm lost in the symphony of emotions that Emrys elicits. His gaze holds mine, a gentle challenge to embrace the future we'll create together–one filled with passion, precision, and endless possibilities.

As the night wears on, I find myself enveloped in the joyous cacophony of celebration. I am the eye of the hurricane, calm and centered, as love swirls chaotically around me. Each dance, each touch, is a note in the harmony of our unconventional melody. And as I spin in the arms of these three incredible men, I can't help but think that, regardless of how unorthodox our arrangement may seem, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

"Kat, this...all of this," Wyatt says, gesturing around at the celebration. "It's just the beginning, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," I assure him, my voice laced with a thrill. "The start of one wild, incredible journey."

We laugh together, and as he releases me to Wilder's waiting arms, the sense of contentment swells within me. Wilder catches me smoothly, his strength a promise of steadfastness in our ever-evolving world. As we sway to the music, my gaze drifts, taking in the sea of familiar faces, all here to witness love in its purest, most jubilant form.

My mom approaches, her smile as warm as the summer sun. Releasing me gently, Wilder rests his hand on my hip, keeping me close as I turn to face my mom. Squeezing my hand gently, her eyes gleam with unspoken understanding. "Kat, darling, I’m so happy for you," she whispers conspiratorially, her eyes growing watery as she glances at the guys. "You know…that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Is for you to find someone who makes you happy. I was trying to help."

"I know, Mom. I’ve never hated you for it. Maybe rolled my eyes a time or two, but I always knew where it came from. I know how much you love me," I reply, the warmth of her acceptance wrapping around me like a comforting shawl. "It means everything to have your blessing."

"Go on, live your happiness," she encourages with a playful nudge before she steps back, leaving room for my dad to creep in.

"Kit-Kat," he says, his voice low and earnest over the music. "You're redefining love for all the youngins, you know."

"Thanks…I think?" I reply, a smirk on my lips. "I just hope we can challenge a few norms along the way."

"Challenge them? You're shattering them." He drops his voice to a whisper, eyes sparkling with mischief as he glances at Wilder over my shoulder. “Just so you know, you have nothing to worry about with us. I always knew you were the type to break walls of expectation and pave your own path. You’re my daughter after all.”

He chuckles, clapping Wilder on the shoulder once before offering my mom his arm and disappearing into the festivities.

As the evening unfolds, I'm awash with a profound sense of gratitude. Here, embraced by the tangible affection of Wyatt, Wilder, and Emrys, bolstered by the support of those I hold dear, I revel in the reality that this, here, is my forever. Together, we are rewriting the narrative of love–one shared adventure, one whispered secret, one stolen glance at a time.

The dance floor pulses with energy, a swirl of colors and laughter under the twinkling lights. I'm in the eye of the storm, my hand clasped in Wilder's, until he’s spinning me into Wyatt’s arms. Then, in turn, I end up in Emrys’.

"Let's make waves," Emrys whispers, voicing the unspoken mantra of our unconventional union.

"Only if they're big enough to surf," I quip, leaning into the strength of his embrace.

"Are you ready for forever?" Wyatt murmurs as we all come together, him and Wilder flanking us on either side.

"Forever feels too short," I reply, my voice steady even if my heart races with the exhilaration of our shared future.

They exchange glances, each smile reflecting a facet of our love–a prism of passion and understanding. In this moment, with their arms around me, the rest of the world fades. We are a unit, a team, a constellation charting a course through unexplored skies.

"Let's show them how it's done," Wyatt says, his eyes alight with the spark of revolution.

"Let's redefine forever," Emrys adds, his tone resolute.

"Let's love like no one's watching," I declare, and the pact is sealed.

Our story–one of love multiplied, not divided–will be one for the ages. We are trailblazers, carving out our version of happily ever after, fearless in our pursuit of happiness.

This is our forever. And it's only just the beginning.

Epilogue

ONE MONTH AFTER CANCUN

The buzz of the studio lights hums a low anthem that’s a direct contrast to the coolness I’m exuding in my plush armchair. Across from me, the interviewer, a woman with a hawk-eye for heartbeats and hidden tales, tilts her head as if preparing to start asking the hard questions.

I know where this is going.

"So, Kathryn," she starts, her voice smooth as silk, "your work has been nothing short of revolutionary. Let’s talk about the opening of your newest animal sanctuary."

I lean forward, my hands clasped together to project the fervor that's got my heart thumping to its own drum beat. "It's been an incredible journey," I say, my voice threaded with the excitement that bubbles in my chest. "With each rescue, with every rehabilitation, we're changing lives–not just for the animals but for our community."

"Your dedication is palpable," the interviewer nods, her gaze flickering with approval. "And the impact? It's been substantial, I hear."

"Absolutely," I affirm, pride swelling within me. "We've reintroduced endangered species back into the wild, educated thousands on conservation, and brought together volunteers from all walks of life. It's more than a sanctuary; it's a movement."

The interviewer's eyes sparkle with the next question, one ripe with scandal and sizzle, as she finally finds her opening. "Speaking of movements, there's been quite the buzz about your personal life since your sister, Annabelle's, wedding. Everyone's curious about you and the three gentlemen who are... shall we say, intimately involved in your life?"

I can feel the heat rising, not from embarrassment but from the fire of my unorthodox love that defies convention. Confidence laces my words as I ready myself to address the topic head-on. My first live and public interview since the day Brody revealed to everyone my arrangement with the guys? I saw this coming, of course. I prepared for it.

"Ah, yes. The talk of the town." My lips curl into a playful smile. "I suppose when you step outside societal boundaries, people get fascinated–eager for details."

"Are you willing to give us any?" Her eyebrow arches, almost challenging me.

"Perhaps," I tease, a laugh bubbling up. "But let's just say that love isn't always a straight path. Sometimes it's a wonderfully tangled web of affection, respect, and undeniable chemistry."

"Undeniable chemistry, indeed," she echoes, her tone suggesting she's ready to dive deeper into the story.

"Let's not keep everyone in suspense any longer," I announce, my gaze sweeping across the eager audience. "Why talk about the loves of my life when they can speak for themselves?"

A murmur of excitement ripples through the crowd as three figures emerge from the wings, their presence commanding immediate attention. The spotlight captures them one by one–their entrance nothing short of a magnetic spectacle.

First strides Emrys, his large, imposing form cloaked in an air of confidence that only enhances his predatory aura. His dark hair is a stark contrast to the bright stage, and the intensity in his eyes speaks volumes of his quiet strength. He carries himself with a grace that belies his deep connection to the wild, the untamed energy within him barely concealed beneath the surface.

The atmosphere crackles with palpable anticipation, but it's amplified as Wilder follows, the embodiment of controlled, charming chaos. With his mischievous grin and tousled golden locks, he exudes a sense of adventure that is impossible to ignore. There's a twinkle in his eye that suggests he's up for anything–a thrill-seeker with a heart of gold.

Lastly, Wyatt steps into view, his sharp suit painting the picture of sophistication. Yet, his warm, inviting smile softens the edges of his lawyerly facade, hinting at the supportive pillar he is in our relationship. A man who can navigate the courtroom with the same ease as he navigates the complexities of our love.

"Hello, boys," I say, my voice steady despite the butterflies performing acrobatics in my stomach. They always do that to me.

"Hello, love," Emrys replies, his voice a soothing baritone that sends a familiar shiver down my spine as he presses a gentle kiss to my temple.

"Did you miss me?" Wilder waggles his eyebrows outrageously, making me laugh, before slamming his lips over mine in a sloppy kiss.

“I just saw you ten minutes ago backstage!” I playfully chastise him.

"Kathryn," Wyatt says my name like he always does, like a promise–a vow–or even a prayer, causing my throat to close up and my heart to skip a beat. He takes the seat next to me and grasps my hand, exuding calm and support.

As we settle into our seats, the interviewer probes, "So, gentlemen, tell us about your relationship with Kat."

Wilder leans forward, his enthusiasm contagious. "Kat is the most incredible woman we've ever met. She's our partner in every sense–our lover, confidant, and the force that binds us together. Oh! And there’s this thing she does in be-"

"That’s enough." Emrys growls, smacking the back of Wilder’s head none too gently, but still lovingly.

You know, in that special bromance sort of way. The two of them are inseparable now, with Wyatt keeping the two of them grounded when things get too messy. Who knew Emrys had a wild streak just waiting to surface?

Wyatt ignores the other two, maintaining his professionalism, but with his gaze locked on me with unwavering affection. "Our commitment to Kat–and to each other–is unbreakable. We've built a bond based on respect, trust, and an openness that many might not understand, but for us, it's perfect."

"Perfectly imperfect," I quip, unable to help the laughter that bubbles up.

The interviewer's gaze flickers over to Wyatt, Emrys, and me as we sit, an unorthodox quartet on the stage. There's a spark of intrigue in her eyes, one that mirrors the audience's curiosity. "So, let's talk about the roles these gentlemen have taken on within your organization," she prompts, leaning forward with keen interest.

"Absolutely," I say, flashing a quick, confident grin before turning toward Wyatt. He's all business in his crisp suit, the epitome of a sharp legal mind, but it's the warm glow in his eyes that speaks volumes about his role beyond the courtroom. "Wyatt has been instrumental as our in-house counsel. His expertise has been invaluable, especially with the expansion of our sanctuaries."

Wyatt adjusts his tie, a modest gesture for a man whose work safeguards the future of my life's passion. "It's more than a job, it's a cause I believe in deeply," he says, his voice steady and sure. "Protecting what Kat has built and ensuring the well-being of these animals is personal for me."

Personal doesn't quite cover it, not when I know the late nights he's spent poring over contracts and the way he fights for us in every negotiation. I squeeze his hand, pride swelling in my chest.

Then there's Emrys, who's practically vibrating with enthusiasm. The audience can't tell, of course, he probably seems statuesque in his ability to sit still, but I can tell. "And Emrys is the head of our sanctuary operations. It's a role he's embraced wholeheartedly," I continue, turning to beam at him. “He personally makes sure every single animal we have–or take in–is living its best life.”

Emrys leans forward slightly, "Working with these animals, ensuring they have a safe haven–it's more rewarding than I could've imagined. Seeing them thrive, knowing we're making a real difference? It's incredible."

I nod along, watching as he describes the latest rescue with a gaze that almost dares someone to doubt or question him. The crowd is hanging onto his every word, captivated by the sincerity of his commitment. It's a testament to the kind of man he is–devoted and unwavering. And he's ours.

As the applause crescendos, I lean back in my chair, caught in a moment of reflection. These men, each so different, have become pillars in both the foundation of my dreams and the architecture of my heart. They've taken their love for me and turned it into tangible support that extends far beyond sweet nothings whispered in the dark. They've intertwined their lives with mine, professionally and personally, and there's no separating where one ends and another begins.

“And what is it you do, Wilder?” The interviewer turns her attention to our playful companion.

“Me? I’m just the eye candy.” He blows a kiss at me before hopping up to flex his arms to the wild cheers of the women in the crowd. I merely roll my eyes, well-acquainted with his antics.

"Dr. Wilder Hayes, everyone," I announce, my voice laced with pride and a hint of mischief. "He saves lives by day, but trust me, he's got a wild streak that would make your heart race more than any operating room drama."

Wilder winks at the crowd, and there's an audible swoon from the audience. "Guilty as charged," he says, voice smooth like aged whiskey. "But when it comes to supporting our Kitten? That's no game. It's a life mission we're all dedicated to–heart, soul, and everything in between."

"Kat, this is quite the powerhouse team you've assembled," the interviewer quips, her grin as wide as the scoop she's hoping to unearth.

"Powerhouse?" I laugh, tossing my hair over one shoulder. "We're more like a hurricane. A force of nature, you know? Unpredictable but awe-inspiring."

Wilder leans in, his mischief palpable. "And we do love to stir things up, don't we?"

"Only if it's trouble worth making," Wyatt adds, the timbre of his voice a soothing contrast to Wilder's playful banter.

"Or if it involves saving animals and kicking ass," Emrys chimes, the twinkle in his eye matched by the passion in his words.

The audience eats it up, their laughter fueling the electric charge between us. This isn't just any interview; it's our declaration to the world.

"Saving animals, kicking ass, and loving fiercely," I say, punctuating each word with a determined nod. "That's what we're all about."

"Separately, we're impressive," Wyatt says, his eyes meeting mine with that intensity that always sends shivers down my spine.

"Collectively?" Emrys picks up where Wyatt leaves off. "We're unstoppable."

"Unstoppable and damn sexy," Wilder adds, earning cheers from the crowd.

"Okay, okay," I interject, laughing. "Let's keep the ego in check, Cowboy."

"Never a dull moment with us, Kat," Wilder winks.

"Wouldn't want it any other way," I confess, my heart skipping at the thought.

"Any final words for our viewers?" the interviewer asks, signaling the end of our segment.

"Stay wild, stay kind, and don't be afraid to love outside the lines," I proclaim, sitting straight and meeting the gazes of the crowd head on.

"Embrace the unexpected," Wyatt advises, the lawyer in him choosing each word with care.

"Protect those without a voice," Emrys adds, his conviction resonating throughout the studio.

" And live life to the fullest," Wilder finishes with a grin, sparking a round of applause.

As the cameras dim and the audience's applause echoes in the background, I glance around at my men, sharing a look that says we're just getting started.

Epilogue

ONE MONTH AFTER CANCUN

The car engine hums to a stop, and I peel my eyes away from the window, reluctantly tearing them from the blur of trees that had been keeping pace with us. My heart's doing this funny little pitter-patter thing, kind of like when you're at the top of a roller coaster, about to plummet down. I glance over at Kat in the back seat next to me, who’s wearing that mischievous grin I've come to know so well, the one that says she's up to something that'll either be epic or have me reaching for the nearest bottle of whiskey.

"Okay, Emrys," she says, her voice bubbling with excitement, "we’re here."

"Kat, you know I hate surprises," I grumble. But the truth is, I'd walk through fire if it made her smile like that. Heck, I'd probably do a little dance in the flames too.

She rolls her eyes, a twinkle of amusement lighting them up. "Just trust me. You'll love this one."

“I don’t know…you still owe me a new jacket from when you lost mine at the beach in Cancun.” She gasps in mock-horror, slapping her hand over her heart.

“It’s not my fault you decided to chase me through the jungle like school children!”

“Uh huh. Hey, Wyatt, isn’t that the night we caught Wilder and Kat making out like school children under the bleachers?”

“Indeed,” The man huffs in the backseat as if put off, but the the twinkle in his eye gives away his amusement.

“Hey, y’all, don’t be mad I was man enough to make the first move.” Wilder drawls, finally lifting his absurd cowboy hat off his face and placing it on the seat next to him in the back of the car.

“Pretty sure that was me when we all first met Kat, isn’t that right, love?” I waggle my eyebrows at her and her cheeks tinge pink as she groans.

“Alright, boys. Save the debate for later. Let’s go!” The excitement returns as she bounces out of the car.

With a sigh that's thirty percent exasperation and seventy percent affection, I undo my seatbelt and step out to follow her. She instantly grabs my arm, tugging me enthusiastically around a bend of trees and to a…

“Where are we?” It’s a nondescript brick building with a steel door and keypad.

“Just trust me,” Kat breathes, punching in a code and pushing me through the door. I don’t even have time to take in our surroundings before we’re exiting through a larger double door into the outside once more and then my heart practically stops dead in my chest.

"Leopards," I breathe out, the word laced with reverence. I should've known–Kat understands my love for these creatures runs as deep.

"Come on," she urges, practically dragging me by the hand toward the familiar sight of the big cat habitat.

My feet crunch along the gravel path, each step taking me closer to a part of my past that still sings in my veins. The air is ripe with the scent of pine and wild earth, a reminder of the untamed spirits that reside within the fencing. And then there they are: regal, rare, absolutely breathtaking. The Amur leopards.

"Hey, babies," I call out softly, the words slipping from me like a secret hymn. I can't help the laughter that bubbles up, bright and free, as they pace closer, their spotted coats a masterpiece of nature's artistry. It's like meeting old friends, and judging by the flicker in their eyes, the feeling's mutual.

"Emrys," Kat whispers, her voice barely above the rustle of the leaves. "Look at them!"

I don’t need to look at her to know that her gaze is locked on me, not on the leopards. She's waiting to see that spark, the one she knew would ignite the moment I laid eyes on these majestic predators.

"Thank you," I say, turning to her with a softness in my eyes reserved only for moments like this, for her. "This means everything."

"Anything for you," she responds, her words wrapping around me like the warmest of embraces.

And just like that, I'm reminded why I'm willing to dive headfirst into the unknown for this woman. She gets me, truly gets me, even when it involves stirring up the dust on my carefully shelved desires. I may have wandered through life preferring fleeting connections, but with Kat, Wilder, and Wyatt, the rules of the game have changed. I'm all in, ready for whatever crazy, beautiful mess we create together.

"Ready to say hello?" I ask, my voice crackling with the same electric anticipation that's coursing through my veins.

"Absolutely," she replies, and together, we step into the embrace of the enclosure.

The air is thick with a primal energy as I step closer to the leopards, my heart thrumming in time with their soft chuffs of curiosity. "Hey there, babies," I murmur, my voice a familiar lullaby to their perked ears. "Have you missed me?"

Their response is instantaneous–a chorus of affectionate growls and purrs that fill the space between us. One by one, they saunter over, their sleek bodies brushing against my legs, eyes glinting with recognition. It's a reunion painted in strokes of wild love and mutual respect, and it stirs something deep within me.

"Emrys, they're practically smiling at you," Kat whispers, her words laced with wonder.

"Can't help being irresistible," I jest, but I'm too caught up in this moment of pure, unspoken connection to let my usual bravado steal the show.

"Speak for yourself," Wilder mutters next to her, but his usual confidence is nowhere to be seen. The big, bad Wilder, who's never met a challenge he couldn’t tackle head-on, clutches Kat's arm like it's the only lifeline in a sea of fanged uncertainty. His knuckles are white, his eyes darting from one leopard to the next.

"Come on, Wild-man, they're just oversized kitties," I tease, but I can't hide the grin spreading across my face. Seeing Mr. Fearless reduced to a jittery mess is a sight I won't forget anytime soon.

"Kitties?" His voice cracks, and I swear even the leopards snicker. "These things could eat me for breakfast."

"Only if you taste better than steak," I chuckle, turning back to the leopards with a shake of my head. "Isn't that right, Zoya?" The leopardess nuzzles my hand, a silent agreement passing between us.

"Easy for you to say," Wilder grumbles, but I notice the grip on Kat's arm loosening ever so slightly. Curiosity peeks through the wariness in his eyes–a hint that the adventurous spirit we all know is still in there, biding its time.

"Trust me, they're more afraid of your aftershave than you are of them," I quip, tossing a reassuring glance over my shoulder.

Wilder shoots me a glare that's half-hearted at best, and I can tell he's starting to thaw. After all, fear has always been just another opponent for him to size up and conquer, and today seems no different. Just another story for him to laugh about later–once his heart stops trying to beat its way out of his chest, that is.

I'm still reeling from the comedy of Wilder's jittery nerves when out of the corner of my eye, I spot Wyatt edging away from the group. He's trying to be discreet, almost aloof, but those leopards have a sixth sense for the shy ones.

"Guys, I think I'll just-" Wyatt starts, but his words are cut off by a blur of spotted fur.

"Oof!" His grunt is music to my ears as he's tackled to the ground by what looks like a hundred pounds of purring feline love. The look on his face is pure shock, eyes wide, mouth agape–a picture-perfect moment I'll store in my memory forever.

"Looks like you're not so invisible after all, Wyatt!" I call out, chuckling as one of the leopards, probably mistaking him for a new plaything, nuzzles against his chest.

"Help?" It's a weak plea, but it only serves to encourage the leopards more. Joining their friend, they all bound over and roll around with him, paws batting playfully at his hands as he tries–and fails–to push them away gently.

"Come on, Wyatt, embrace the love!" I tease, knowing full well he's not in any real danger. These leopards are big babies at heart, and something tells me they've just found their favorite human toy.

My attention shifts back to Kat, who's been busy making heart-to-heart connections with every leopard that comes her way. It's like watching poetry in motion, the way she moves among them, a whispering charmer weaving spells of tranquility. Her gentle strokes, the soft murmurs, the respectful nods–everything about her sings in harmony with these majestic beasts.

It's impossible not to be drawn in, to feel that same adoration swell in my chest. I can't help but smile, warmth flooding through me as I watch Kat in her element. This is the woman I fell for–the one whose heart beats with a wild rhythm, echoing the untamed souls of the creatures she cherishes.

"Kat," I breathe out, my voice barely above the wind, though she doesn't hear me. No matter, the sentiment hangs there, suspended in the crisp air of admiration and love. There's no denying it–I'm head over heels for her, and seeing her here, amidst the raw beauty of nature, it just seals the deal all over again.

"Emrys," she turns, catching my gaze with a smile that holds the spark of shared secrets and promises yet to be fulfilled. "Enjoying the show?"

"Immensely," I reply, my heart pounding a fierce rhythm that mirrors the playful scuffle behind us where Wyatt is slowly coming to terms with being a leopard's favorite wrestling partner. It's a day of revelations and unexpected turns, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

“Wanna hear something cool?” Kat gestures towards the drowsy creature beneath my touch, the female who hasn’t left my side. "She's pregnant. You're going to be a sort of...godfather to a whole new batch of these spotted beauties."

For a moment, I just stare, and then it hits me–the magnitude of what she said. A grin splits my face so wide it hurts. I close the distance between us and wrap her up in my arms.

"God, Kat," I laugh into her hair. "You're incredible, do you know that?"

"Only because you tell me every day," she teases, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. The look she gives me is pure Kat–intense, full of mischief, and brimming with an emotion that goes beyond words.

"Every day isn't enough," I murmur, and then my lips are on hers, soft yet demanding.

"Get a room, you two!" Wyatt calls out, now standing a safe distance away, trying to brush off remnants of dirt and leopard fur. His sheepish grin betrays the fondness he feels for the scene unfolding before him.

As we stand there, the sanctuary around us alive with the chorus of untamed spirits, I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. The journey ahead might be fraught with challenges, but together, there's nothing we can't face. And with a little luck, maybe our own lives will be as vibrant and wild as the leopards we stand beside.

Epilogue

SIX MONTHS AFTER CANCUN

I thumb the corner of the small box through the fabric of my pocket, a little square bulge that's about to change everything. The night's alive with sparks and laughter, the Sharpe Clan in full revelry around the bonfire that's sending up embers to flirt with the stars. It's one of those nights where the world feels like it's holding its breath, waiting for something monumental to happen. Emrys is fidgety, trying to look anywhere but at Kat, while Wilder's jaw is set so hard I'm surprised he isn't grinding his teeth to dust.

"Guys," I murmur, my voice barely a thread against the crackling backdrop, "this is it."

Emrys gives a firm nod, his face pale in the firelight. Wilder just claps me on the shoulder, the weight of his hand as reassuring as an anchor. We're in this together–have been since we all fell head over heels for the same incredible woman. It's crazy, unconventional, and yet, it feels so damn right.

I lift my gaze across the flames and there she is, Kat, laughing at something her cousin's saying, her head thrown back, completely carefree. She catches me staring, and for a second, her turquoise eyes lock with mine. My heart doesn't just skip a beat–it does a whole gymnastics routine.

"Are you guys ready?" I ask, even though my pulse is pounding loud enough that I'm sure they can hear it.

"Been ready for this since Cancun," Wilder says, a rare vulnerability flickering in his eyes.

"Yes," Emrys adds, his voice is steady but his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows down his nerves.

We've talked about this moment more times than I can count, planned it out until it felt like we'd taken all the spontaneity out of it. But now, faced with the reality, the raw emotion of it all, no amount of planning could prepare us for the enormity of what we're about to do.

"Alright then," I say, smoothing down the front of my shirt for the umpteenth time. "It's now or never."

"Never's not an option," Wilder mutters, and we share a look that's equal parts terror and excitement.

"Let's go make some history," Emrys says with a determined grin.

With one final look towards Roger, who gives us a wide grin and waves us forward, we turn to Ethan. He gives us a barely perceptible nod before stepping into the heart of the bonfire's glow, clinking his drink against a metal chair to cut through the laughter and chatter of the Sharpe Clan. Heads turn, attention zeroes in on him, and the hum of the gathering dips down to an expectant hush.

"Family, friends," Ethan calls out, his voice carrying over the fire's crackle, "We've got something special tonight. And no, it’s not the chicken suit! That honor already went to Alissa’s new beau. Isn’t that right, Davey?” The man in question groans in shame, trying to hide beneath an identical yellow disgrace to the one I once wore.

Sorry, kid. That’s just the way it is.

As the chuckles from the Sharpe clan taper off, Ethan claps his hands. “Now where was I? Oh yes! There was a time not too long ago, and they might deny it until the day they die, but everyone who knows me knows that I had it right from the beg-”

“Oh shut up!” Annabelle stands, cutting off her husband with a playful glare. “You talk too much! Let go of the spotlight, baby. Boys?” She turns to us defiantly, daring us to back down.

I can feel every eye shifting to see who she’s looking at, wondering what's up.

This is it.

My stomach churns like I've swallowed live embers, but my feet are set, ready to walk the most important path of my life. Beside me, Emrys and Wilder are stone statues with thundering hearts–I can almost hear theirs in the same rhythm as mine.

I turn and there she is, meeting my gaze with those wide, questioning sea-glass eyes that always remind me of the place I fell for her. I take a step forward, and then another, each one steadier than the last as I close the distance between us.

"Kathryn," I say her name like a vow as I reach for her hand, her fingers warm and soft in mine. The world narrows down to just us, even with everyone watching. "You've turned my life upside down, in the best possible way." My throat feels tight, words thick with the weight of emotions that have been building up like a surge behind a dam. "You’re the most amazing woman in the world. Beautiful. Crazy. Strong. Wonderful. You’re my everything. I can't imagine a day without you."

Emrys steps up beside me, his own expression serious. He takes her other hand, holding it between his calloused fingers. "Kat, from the moment you crashed into my life, I knew you were trouble," he says, his voice laced with that warmth that always makes her laugh. "The kind of trouble I never want to be saved from."

Wilder moves to stand next to Emrys, his presence like a steady flame. "And you, Kat, you accepted me–us–with a heart so big, I reckon it's a wonder how it fits inside you." His gaze locks with hers, and even I can feel the sincerity rolling off him in waves. "You challenge me, you inspire me, and damn if you don't make every day brighter."

Her eyes are glistening now, reflecting the firelight, our faces, our shared history. There's a tremble in her smile, but it's strong, just like her. We're doing this–laying it all out, staking our claim not just on her heart, but on a future that's as unconventional as it is perfect for us.

"Kat." I squeeze her hand. "We've been through one hell of a ride, and we don't ever want to get off."

And with that, the three of us drop to one knee, the sandy ground gritty beneath our knees, as I flip open the lid with a flick of my thumb. The three large stones catch the bonfire's light, each facet winking like a star against the velvet night.

"Kathryn Sharpe," I start, my voice surprisingly steady given the jackhammer rhythm of my heart. Emrys and Wilder kneel beside me, a unified front in what's probably the most insane thing we've ever done. It feels right though, as right as anything has ever been.

Then in unison, we speak, just like we embarrassingly practiced for months so no one got left behind.

"Will you marry us?"

The question hangs in the air, a single note waiting for its melody. My throat tightens as I watch her, our Kat, the woman who's become the center of our universe. Her eyes widen, that iconic french-tipped hand flying to cover her mouth, a gasp unheard but felt by every last one of us.

Time seems to fracture, stretching out as if this moment might be caught in amber, preserved for eternity. Around us, the Sharpe Clan is motionless, their collective breath held, waiting, watching. Even the fire's crackle sounds louder, or maybe that's just the blood pounding in my ears.

"Kat?" I prompt gently, my future held in the balance of her answer, our hearts suspended in the abyss between questions and answers.

Kat cocks her head to the side, that mischievous glint I know all too well sparking in her eyes. "Are you guys sure about this? Because there's no returns or exchanges on this model," she teases, waving a hand down at herself as if showcasing the prize on some game show. Her laughter dances between us like a shared secret, light and free.

"Absolutely no refunds," Wilder quips back, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

"Nor would we ever want one," Emrys adds, his voice thick with emotion.

We each hold our breath, waiting for her to drop the act and give us something real. But that's Kat—always turning life into her own personal comedy sketch until it's time to get serious. And when she does, she hits like a hurricane.

"Then yes," she finally says, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, yet still laughing. "Yes, I'll marry you."

And just like that, she launches herself into my arms first, her kiss a promise of storms to come. I can't help but laugh against her lips, the sound lost in the warmth of her mouth as I slip the ring on her finger without looking. When we part, she turns to Emrys, giving him a kiss that's equal parts love and gratitude. Then, to Wilder, whose kiss she seals with a playful smack to his cheek, earning a whoop of delight from him.

The Sharpe Clan doesn't need any more cues; they explode into cheers and applause, their joyous noise drowning out the crackle of the fire. They swarm us, a tidal wave of hugs and hearty pats on the back. Evelyn, Kat’s mom, is crying happy tears, Roger is clapping so hard I worry he might dislocate something, and Ethan and the cousins are already planning outlandish bachelor parties.

"Y'all are crazy if you think you're getting away without a celebration tonight!" Annabelle calls out, and the sentiment is echoed by everyone present.

"Looks like we're in for a long night," I whisper to Kat, as another round of congratulations makes the rounds.

"Best kind of long night," she whispers back, her eyes meeting mine with that fierce intensity that promises everything and then some.

The bonfire crackles and pops, throwing sparks high into the night sky, as if joining in the celebration. The air is electric with happiness, thick with the scent of woodsmoke and the undercurrents of new beginnings. Together, the four of us stand amidst the chaos, a united front ready to take on whatever comes next. And as I look at Kat, flanked by Emrys and Wilder, I know deep in my bones that together, we can face anything.

Epilogue

ONE YEAR AFTER CANCUN

Standing at the threshold of forever, I squint against the sun's glare, its rays a loving caress on the sublime New Zealand panorama unfurling before me. This isn't just any venue; it's the kind of place you'd expect to find in the dog-eared pages of a glossy travel magazine, not the backdrop of your own wedding. My heart races, a wild drumbeat echoing the untamed beauty of this corner of the world.

"It’s perfect," I murmur to myself, my voice a mere whisper carried away by the wind.

The colors around me are riotous, an artist's palette gone delightfully mad. Flowers, bold and unapologetic, festoon every surface, their petals a kaleidoscope that rivals the most lucid of dreams. Magenta peonies bump shoulders with fiery orange lilies, while indigo irises wink from their beds like sapphires nestled in green velvet. It's as if nature itself is celebrating—throwing its own little party in honor of the occasion.

A soft breeze flirts with the tendrils of hair framing my face, the air warm and scented with the heady perfume of blossoms and the fresh tang of nearby sea. Leaves rustle in the trees, whispering secrets and adding a soundtrack to the scenery that's more soothing than any string quartet could ever hope to be.

"Kat, you ready?" The voice is both familiar and reassuring, my dad is ready to walk with me into the most important moment of my life.

"Born ready," I shoot back, the assertive quip a buoyant raft on my sea of nerves.

"Cheeky as ever," comes the affectionate retort as he offers me his arm, face soft and eyes red-rimmed.

With a deep breath that feels like it reaches down to my toes, I step forward, leaving the realm of what if behind, and stepping confidently into what will be. The romance of the moment isn't lost on me, as cliché as it sounds. Every cell in my body is abuzz with anticipation, each step a declaration: I am here, I am theirs, we are one.

"Let's do this," I whisper to no one and everyone, to the wind, the sky, and to the loves of my life waiting somewhere beyond my line of sight. And just like that, I walk toward my future, one empowered, exhilarating step at a time.

The aisle stretches before me like a ribbon of destiny, its ivory petals a stark contrast to the lush green that cradles it. My heart is doing this funny little dance, half-cha-cha, half-waltz, as my eyes find them—Wyatt, Emrys, and Wilder. They are my pillars, my fierce loves, standing together at the altar, awaiting my approach.

Emrys' jaw clenches–the stoic beast, always trying to be the protector. But his eyes betray him, shimmering with unshed tears that glisten like morning dew. His love is a fortress, steadfast and sure, and seeing him vulnerable unravels me in the best way.

Beside him, Wyatt, the chivalrous gentlemen with a soul as deep as the ocean, lets a single tear escape. It carves a path down his cheek, a silent testament to the intensity of his emotions. He's never been one to hide his heart, and the raw honesty in his gaze sends a surge of warmth through me.

And then there's Wilder, the untamed spirit, who's unabashedly weeping. His tears are a river, unrestrained and fierce, just like his passion. The sight of him–so open, so unguarded–stirs something primal within me.

Each step I take down the aisle is a promise whispered to the wind. My dress, a cascade of lace and dreams, flutters gently around me. I can feel every eye on me, but it's their gazes that anchor me, that pull me forward with an invisible thread tied to my very essence.

As I reach the altar, my breath catches. This is it. The moment where everything converges—the past, present, and future. My eyes meet theirs, one by one.

Emrys, with his quiet strength.

Wyatt, with his protective soul.

Wilder, with his wild intensity.

Each look speaks volumes, promising a lifetime of tomorrows filled with love and shared adventures. Tears well up, spilling over in a joyous cascade. They're tears for the journey that brought us here, for the challenges we've faced and the triumphs we've savored. They're tears for the love that's as vast as the sky above us, limitless and all-encompassing.

"Damn it," I murmur, half-laughing, half-sobbing, as I swipe at the wetness on my cheeks. "Who knew happily ever after would be so...soggy?"

Their chuckles mingle with my own, a symphony of shared mirth that dances on the breeze. We stand together, four hearts entwined, ready to leap into forever, and I've never felt more alive. I stand here, my heart pounding like a drumline in my chest, flanked by Wyatt, Emrys, and Wilder—three pillars of strength, love, and undeniable sex appeal. I can't help but think, Girl, you hit the jackpot.

The officiant's gentle voice nudges us back to the now, to the purpose of this gathering, as he prompts us to start our vows.

"Kat," Wyatt begins, his voice a smooth baritone that sends shivers down my spine. "From the day we met, I knew there was something special about you. You are fierce, independent, and the most genuine person I've ever known." He slips a simple wedding band onto my finger, and it's like a promise etched in metal.

Emrys steps forward, his intense eyes locking onto mine. "Kat," he says, and even his accent feels like it's wrapping around me. "You are the muse of my life. Your laughter is the music I dance to, and your spirit is the flame that warms my soul." He adds my engagement ring to my finger and it nestles perfectly up to the curved band Wyatt placed there.

Then, there's Wilder, the embodiment of his name, with a smile that could light up the darkest corners of any heart. He takes my hand, and his touch is a thrill ride I never want to end. "Kat," he grins, and I'm reminded why falling for him was as easy as breathing. "You’re the adventure I didn’t know I needed. Your courage inspires me, and your love is the ultimate freedom." His ring joins the others, the band a twin to Wyatt’s that perfectly encases the engagement ring with the three stones.

Trying to discreetly wipe at my tear streaked face, I take a deep breath, finding my voice amidst the flutters in my chest. "Wilder," I begin, the word an anchor. "You are my leap of faith, my heart's wild ride. With you, I've ziplined through canyons and soared over fears. You've taught me that love isn't just about the quiet moments but also the pulse-pounding ones. I vow to embrace every adventure with you, to laugh louder, and to always seek the thrill of what if."

Wilder's eyes glint with unshed tears, a tender smirk playing on his lips. His hand, rough from years of holding scalpels and climbing gear alike, squeezes mine, grounding me. And I gently place one of three mens rings on his finger. His ring is a thing of rugged beauty, silver etched with the unmistakable silhouette of a cowboy hat and boots–a testament to the man whose heart is as vast as the plains he loves.

I turn to Wyatt, whose presence is as calming as the New Zealand breeze. "Wyatt, you are my unexpected solace, my safe harbor. In your eyes, I found a love that doesn't waver when challenged; it grows stronger. You showed me that trust isn't given lightly but earned with patience and honesty. I vow to stand by you, to build dreams that won't crumble, and to be your unwavering support through every twist life may throw our way."

The soft crinkling around Wyatt's eyes tells me more than words ever could. He nods slightly, the motion full of conviction and warmth, his lawyer's mind silently cataloging every word we're promising each other. I slip his ring on his finger. And because he is, apparently, a secret geek, his is a twin to the The Lord of the Rings ring. He chuckles as he looks at the shiny surface with elvish writing.

Lastly, I face Emrys, whose soulful gaze has always seen right through to my core. "Emrys, you are my whispered secret, my animalistic instinct. With you, I've learned that love can be as quiet as a shared glance and as loud as a declaration. You've been the other half to our passion, our souls recognizing kinship and shared drives. I vow to cherish each verse of our lives, to listen to the unsaid, and to always keep our story alive within my heart."

His response is a teardrop that escapes down his cheek, an eloquent testament to his depth of feeling. The depth in him resonates with the sincerity in my voice, and I know he hears every unspoken promise too. I place his ring on his finger, a beautiful, but simple band, with nearly invisible paw prints etched into the surface.

I draw a deep breath, feeling the knots of nerves unravel within me. My family and friends are watching us, some with wide-eyed wonder, others with tears glistening in their eyes, all wrapped up in the magic of this unconventional yet perfect moment.

"Today I stand before not one, but three incredible men," I declare, my voice steady despite the emotions flitting around erratically inside of me.

"Wilder, with your undying zest for life; Emrys, with your twin soul that ignites my passions ever-brighter; and Wyatt, with your steadfast heart that offers safety in every storm. Each of you has awakened a part of me I didn't know existed. Love isn't about choosing one–it's about embracing the love that is true for you. And my truth is standing right here with me. Let's face it, guys–I win," I say with a wink, drawing laughter from our audience.

"Kat, Wyatt, Emrys and Wilder," the officiant's voice is a soft intrusion, commanding in its quiet intensity, but holding just a sliver of humor. "I now pronounce you man...and man...and man...and wife."

The words hang in the air, suspended like the sunbeams filtering through the leafy canopy above us. Time stretches, elongates, becomes infinite in this single, silent moment. I stand stock-still, my breath caught in my chest, my heart thundering loud enough that I swear it echoes off the surrounding mountains.

Beside me, Wilder's hand finds mine, his calloused fingers a familiar pressure. Wyatt's presence to my left is a rock, stable and reassuring, while Emrys' gaze holds mine, deep and soulful, his poet's heart beating in tandem with my own.

We're in this together–truly, madly, deeply–with no way of turning back. The rings on our fingers, heavy with meaning, are the silent witnesses to our vows, our love, our crazy, beautiful truth.

And then, as if on cue, the world erupts around us.

Applause crashes over us like a wave, joyous and deafening. Cheers from our family and friends swell, filling the space with a cacophony of happiness and celebration. It's the sound of barriers breaking, of love triumphing. I can't help but laugh—a bright, effervescent sound that bubbles up from somewhere deep inside.

"Kiss her already!" Someone shouts from the crowd, their voice lost amidst the revelry.

Wyatt’s first, his mouth capturing mine with a tender fierceness that speaks of long nights and heartfelt conversations, of the steadfast shelter he offers. His kiss is grounding, a reminder of the quiet strength of our connection.

Emrys. Oh, Emrys. He kisses me in a sweet, lingering touch that whispers of dark promises and shared secrets. His kiss is a melody, a song meant only for us.

Wilder grins, that boyish, devil-may-care smile that spells adventure, as he leans in last. Instead of doing the gentlemanly thing like the other two, the crazy fool grabs, and spins me into a dip, devouring my mouth with every ounce of thrill-seeking enthusiasm he possesses.

We break apart, breathless and grinning like fools, to face the world together. As one. My husbands–three hearts that beat as strongly for me as mine does for them.

When I turn, Mom's got that misty-eyed pride thing going on, her hand over her mouth as if she's capturing a whisper of this fairy tale to keep forever. Dad has that crinkle around his eyes, the one that's for me and me alone, telling a thousand words of support without him having to utter a single one. Annabelle, my best friend and partner-in-crime, practically vibrates with delight, her grin so wide it's a wonder it doesn't split her face. And Ethan, reliable Ethan, gives me a nod that's an entire conversation–a declaration of I told you so mixed with an aren't you a lucky one.

"Looks like we did it," I say, my voice barely audible over the pleasant chaos of the crowd.

"We did," they affirm, their voices a layered harmony.

We begin to walk, hand in hand, our first steps echoed by the symphony of cheers still cascading around us. It's not just a chapter closing–it's an entire book, and the sequel is going to be epic.

"Let's show them how love really looks," I whisper, squeezing their hands.

"Let's," they agree.

And with that, we dive headfirst into forever, surrounded by the roaring approval of everyone we hold dear.

Epilogue

TWO YEARS AFTER CANCUN

The sterile scent of the hospital is a sucker punch to my senses every time I pace back and forth, but it's nothing compared to the adrenaline cocktail pumping through my veins. Emrys, Wyatt, and I are like a trio of caged lions, our restless energy filling the cramped space as we await the main event: Kat bringing our mini-messiah into the world.

"Man, oh man," I mutter under my breath, catching sight of my clammy palms before I rub them on the thighs of my jeans. Always thought I'd be cooler under pressure, like some suave hero in a spy movie. Instead, here I am, Wilder the Wreck, internally freaking out at the prospect of being called Dad.

I catch Emrys’ eye, his usually calm demeanor edged with a twitchy sort of excitement that mirrors my own. His hand hovers over his mouth, the telltale sign he's biting back a barrage of what-ifs and maybes.

As for Wyatt, he's doing that thing where he pretends to check his watch every five seconds, but we all know it's just a nervous tic disguised as concern for punctuality. We’re a mess, a hot mess, but we're in this together.

"Can't believe we're about to level up to parent status," I say, attempting to break the tension with humor. Emrys snorts, and even Wyatt cracks a smile, his eyes crinkling in amusement before they flicker back to worry.

"Level up? Feels more like we're about to unlock an entirely new game," Emrys chuckles, running a hand through his hair, which has long lost its styled composure.

Wyatt nods, his usual stoic self breaking for a moment as his gaze softens. "And there's no one else I'd rather have on my team."

Their words, their presence–it steadies me. And as much as this room feels like it's charged with enough nervous energy to power the city, it's also brimming with something far stronger–our shared anticipation, the love we have for Kat, and the life she's about to bring into ours.

"Kat's going to ace this boss fight," I say, trying to bolster us all. After all, if Kat can handle the three of us, what's childbirth but another day in paradise?

The door to the delivery room creaks open, and it's go-time. My heart, already a jackhammer, kicks into overdrive. It’s a hive of controlled chaos, the air thrumming with purpose. Nurses dart by in a blur of scrubs, and doctors mutter to each other in that cryptic shorthand that might as well be another language. Monitors beep insistently, like they're cheering Kat on–or maybe that's just my pounding heart trying to sync up with the machinery.

"Another contraction coming," announces one of the nurses, her voice calm and steady, a lighthouse in the stormy sea of activity. She checks the monitor, adjusts a dial, and gives us a nod that says it's time to rally.

I'm at Kat's side in an instant, Emrys and Wyatt flanking me like we're about to run the most important play of our lives. We're a team, always have been, but this–this is the super bowl of supportiveness.

"Okay, baby, you've got this," I say, squeezing Kat's hand. It's slick with sweat, but her grip is iron–Valkyrie-strong. "Just breathe."

"Remember those breathing exercises? In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four." Wyatt's voice is a soft baritone, soothing despite the underlying tremble. He's the rock when the earth shakes, the port in the storm. Today, he's all encouraging whispers and cool cloths dabbed gently on Kat's forehead.

Emrys stands silently, his presence a reassuring weight, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. The man of few words, but when he speaks, it’s with a gravity that anchors us all. "You're incredible, Kat," he murmurs, and there's a reverence in his tone that makes me think he's not just talking about childbirth.

I lean down, brushing a kiss on her temple, tasting salt and determination. "Baby, you're doing amazing," I tell her, meaning every word. "You're about to score the biggest win of our lives."

"Damn right, she is," Wyatt agrees, and even under the strain, Kat manages a weak smile.

"Keep that focus. You're unstoppable," Emrys adds, his eyes locked on hers, full of awe and something fiercer, something that goes beyond mere admiration.

Heat swamps the room, a humid microclimate born of sweat and exertion. Kat's forehead is a battlefield where determination wrestles with exhaustion, each droplet of perspiration marking its territory in this labor of love. Labored breaths huff from her like she's dealing cards at a high-stakes poker game, and with every contraction, she seems to up the ante.

"Dammit, you fucks," she hisses between gasps. "If you ever come near me with your fun-loving adventure sticks again, I'll⁠—"

"Feed them to the tigers?" I offer, trying not to laugh because damn, even now, she's fierce as a wildfire.

"Exactly," she grits out, squeezing my hand with a strength that would make a grizzly bear wince. The beeps of the machines tether us to reality, a staccato rhythm underscoring the intensity of the moment.

"Come on, Kat. One more push. You've got this," Wyatt encourages, his lawyer's poise nowhere in sight as he stands by her other side, his voice rough with emotion.

"Show us that unstoppable power," Emrys chimes in, his eyes gleaming with that mix of admiration and something wilder. Love in its rawest form.

And then, with a crescendo of sound and effort that could rival any adventure we’ve ziplined through, there’s a new cry piercing the air–one that's small, insistent, and life-changing. It cuts through the fog of tension like a beacon, and suddenly, there's a tiny, wriggling being placed into my arms.

"Hello there, little one," I whisper, my voice breaking. This little person stares up with wide, curious eyes, and I'm undone. I never knew my heart had the capacity to swell like this, threaten to burst with love and pride. My vision blurs with joy and relief, and I glance over at Emrys and Wyatt, their faces mirrors of my own awe.

"Hey, champ," Wyatt murmurs, gently stroking a miniature fist with his fingertip.

"Welcome to the world," Emrys adds softly, the fierceness in his gaze giving way to tenderness so profound it echoes in the suddenly still room.

We're a tangle of emotions, a mess of hands cradling our future. And as I pass the bundle of joy to Kat, watching her face illuminate with a mother's adoration, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this–this chaotic, beautiful, unconventional family–is everything I ever wanted.

"Family," I say aloud, the word feeling like a solemn vow.

"Family," they echo, and it's a promise, an anchor, a beginning.

Epilogue

THREE YEARS AFTER CANCUN

"Whoa, easy there, tiger," I tease Kat as she tightens her grip on my hand, her nails–always impeccably French-tipped–digging into my skin. She's a portrait of radiant maternity with her belly round as the moon, announcing the imminent arrival of our second miracle.

"Laugh it up, Wilder," she shoots back with that fiery spark in her eye. "But remember you're all volunteering for this again." Her voice is laced with humor, even as she pats her protruding belly. “Just so you know, she’s going to be even worse than me when she gets here!”

I can't help but chuckle, looking over to Wyatt and Emrys who are just as enamored with her as ever, their eyes glowing with a mix of devotion and mirth. Wyatt is setting up the crib we've somehow managed to convince ourselves we can assemble without instructions, while Emrys is on storybook duty, reading aloud with animated voices that have our firstborn–Sterling–giggling from his playmat as Luna snuggles into his side.

"Maybe next time we'll consider a surrogate?" Wyatt suggests, half-serious, half-joking, as he fumbles with a particularly stubborn screw.

"Not a chance in hell.” Emrys quirks an eyebrow, smirking.

Kat's laughter fills the room, warm and rich, and she rubs her belly affectionately. "You three are incorrigible," she declares, but the love in her eyes tells a different story–one where she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Guilty as charged," I admit, crossing the room to peck her on the forehead. "But for what it's worth, I think we're getting pretty good at this family thing."

"Speak for yourself," Wyatt grunts, finally securing the screw in place. "This crib might just be the end of me."

"Need a hand?" I offer, rolling up my sleeves.

"Stay with Kat," Emrys says, placing the book down and stepping in with a screwdriver. "I've got this." He winks at Wyatt, and they fall into an easy rhythm, the kind born of months of co-parenting and building more than just furniture together.

"Looks like we're quite the team, huh?" I say to Kat, squeezing her hand gently this time.

"Team?" She questions, her smile radiant. "We're a damn league of extraordinary gentlemen–and lady."

"Superheroes, then?" I joke, earning another laugh from her and an eye roll from Wyatt.

"Something like that," she agrees, her gaze drifting towards Sterling, who's now attempting to climb into Emrys' lap, book forgotten. An annoyed Luna is forced to find somewhere else to curl up. "But I wouldn't save the world with anyone else."

"Neither would I," I whisper, leaning down to kiss her softly. The moment is tender, filled with promises and dreams, the kind that stretch far beyond the walls of the nursery we're creating.

"Okay," I announce, my voice cutting through the hum of activity. "I've been thinking."

"Always a dangerous pastime," Wyatt quips without looking up from his task.

"Ha-ha," I shoot back, but I can't suppress my grin. "But seriously, guys." I wait until I have their attention. "I've made a decision."

Kat tilts her head, curiosity lighting her eyes. Emrys stands, wiping his hands on his jeans, and Wyatt finally turns to face me, one eyebrow raised in silent invitation to continue.

"I'm going to be a stay-at-home dad."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the soft exhale from Kat as she lifts our son into her embrace, finagling him around her swollen belly.

"Really?" Emrys says, his voice warm with approval.

"Yep. I want to be there for all of it–the first steps, the first words, the first... everything. I don't want to miss a single milestone."

"Are you sure about this?" Wyatt asks, the ever-practical one among us.

"Never been surer about anything," I reply firmly. "I've talked it through with the hospital. They understand. And honestly, what we have here..." I gesture around the room, to the crib we’re putting together, the walls we painted, and, most importantly, to Kat and our son. "...this is what matters."

"Then we're behind you one hundred percent," Wyatt says decisively, and there's a finality to his tone that brooks no argument.

"Looks like our family just got its very own superhero," Emrys chuckles, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Does that make me the sidekick or the damsel in distress?" Kat teases, the laughter reaching her eyes even as they remain soft, filled with love.

"Neither," I tell her, moving closer to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "You're the heart of this team. The glue that holds us together on our wild adventures."

"Speaking of wild adventures," Kat begins, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Once this little one makes their grand entrance, I expect to be back to ziplining and more within the year."

"Darlin', if you want to zipline while breastfeeding, we'll make it happen," I say, laughing at the thought.

"See? This is why I love you guys," Kat grins, her energy infectious. "You make the impossible seem possible."

"Nothing's impossible with us, Kat. Nothing," I state with conviction, and I mean it. With her, the bounds of what we can do seem limitless.

"Family," Sterling babbles, his timing uncanny, and we all freeze, then burst into laughter, sending Luna scrambling and bolting from the room.

"Family," we echo, the word a promise, a vow, a future full of love and chaos and everything in between.

"Family," Kat whispers, leaning into me, her forehead resting against mine as we share a moment of pure connection, knowing that as long as we're together, we'll conquer the world–one wild, beautiful, unpredictable day at a time.

Epilogue

FIVE YEARS AFTER CANCUN

The sheets are a cocoon of warmth, and the weight of three loving bodies presses against mine in a comforting tangle. Emrys' chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm against my back, his breath hot on my neck. On either side, Wyatt and Wilder's limbs are an intricate weave with mine, securing me in a nest of intimacy. I can't help but think of the kids–our beautiful chaos–but tonight, they're safe in the hands of Aunt Belle and Uncle Ethan, granting us this stolen oasis of serenity.

"Kat," Emrys' voice rumbles, deep and laced with a primal edge that makes my pulse quicken. He shifts behind me, his movements deliberate as he presses closer, his lips tracing the curve of my ear. "I want to see you round with our child again." The words are heavy with longing, each syllable a testament to the love and raw desire he harbors. His tone isn't just filled with affection; it's tinged with the reverence of a man who cherishes the gift of family we've created together.

In the dim light of our bedroom, I turn to face him, my fingers skating over the contours of his muscular arms, feeling the strength that lies beneath his skin. His eyes are pools of earnest yearning, and the fierce need in them sends a shiver down my spine–not of cold, but of anticipation. "Emrys," I whisper back, my voice a blend of humor and heat. "You know what happens when you talk like that."

His lips curve into a grin, one that holds the promise of all the nights we've shared and the unspoken vow of countless more to come. "I'm counting on it," he murmurs.

As our night unfolds, wrapped in each other's embrace, I revel in the knowledge that this perfect, messy, unconventional love is ours–and no matter how wild the ride, I wouldn't change a single thread.

Emrys' words linger in the air, charged with a fervor that could reignite the fire of creation itself. My skin hums with the promise of his touch, but it’s Wyatt who seizes the moment like he's commanding the very essence of passion. His hand slides down my spine, assertive and unyielding, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"Let's not keep her waiting," Wyatt declares, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the room. He has this way of speaking, a commanding tone that somehow makes the world stand to attention. And right now, all of his focus is on me–the center of our shared universe.

I'm barely able to catch my breath before Wilder leans in close, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. "Darlin', you're about to be worshiped like the goddess you are," he drawls, his Southern charm dripping from every word like honey. The playful twinkle in his eye belies the intensity of his touch as his fingers trace the curve of my hip, stoking a fire that threatens to consume us all.

"Is that so?" I manage to tease out, though my voice betrays the arousal building within me. Wilder chuckles softly, a sound that's both comforting and utterly sinful.

"Promise you, sweetheart, tonight’s gonna be one for the books." His hands roam with purpose, tender yet insistent, mapping a path over my body that leaves no doubt of his intentions. He knows just how to coax out every shiver and sigh, and I can't help but melt under his ministrations.

Wyatt watches us, an approving glint in his eyes before he turns to Emrys, nodding once–a silent communication between them that speaks volumes. They understand each other perfectly, a synchronicity born of deep bonds and shared nights like this one–nights full of exploration and pleasure.

And as Wilder's whispering continues, a litany of desire meant only for my ears, I feel myself falling further into the heady abyss of their combined attentions. It's raw and beautiful–the kind of love that writes its own rules.

My skin tingles with anticipation, each caress from Wyatt and Wilder igniting tiny wildfires that spread rapidly across my flesh. I am an open book to them, pages fluttering wildly in a storm of desire, their hands scrawling verses of longing over every inch of me.

"God, pet, you're so damn responsive," Wyatt murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my very core. His fingers dance down my side, strong and sure, while his other hand cups my breast, thumb circling my nipple until it pebbles into a tight bud, aching for more attention.

"Always for you," I gasp, the words barely escaping as Wilder's lips trace the shell of my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. He chuckles, the sound a dark melody that wraps around us, promising untold pleasures.

"Let's see how much we can make her squirm, brother," he teases, his southern drawl thick with lust.

Wyatt grins, a predatory flash of teeth. "Challenge accepted." And just like that, their movements become a coordinated effort, two men with one goal: to drive me utterly wild.

On either side of me now, they're like symphony conductors, orchestrating a crescendo of sensation that has me arching into their touch, desperate for more. Wilder's got this way of kissing, soft and sweet, only to nip at my skin the next second, leaving me panting and wanting. His hands roam lower, slipping between my thighs, finding me wet and ready.

"Damn, darlin', you're drownin' in your need for us," he drawls, fingers dipping into me, making me buck against him.

"Easy, sweetheart," Wyatt's stern voice cuts through the fog of my arousal as he gently but firmly pushes my shoulders back onto the pillows. "We've got all night, remember?" His hand replaces Wilder's, and he slides two fingers inside me, his thumb circling my clit in a relentless rhythm that has my world narrowing down to the point of pleasure where his touch spirals deeper and deeper.

"More," I plead, thrashing beneath them, lost in the haze of their shared heat. Their combined scents–musky male and spiced cologne–fill the air, enveloping me in an erotic cloud.

"Patience, pet," Wyatt chides softly, though his eyes are alight with wicked intent. "We're just getting started."

And just like that, they begin to move in tandem, their touches synced like a well-rehearsed dance routine, driving me higher and higher. Emrys watches on, his expression one of raw admiration that makes my blood simmer.

The scent of sweat and sex intensifies as we lose ourselves in each other's touch, building towards inevitable bliss. My body trembles under the sheer force of the storm brewing within me–a thunderous climax building towards its release. "Please," I whimper. Wilder shushes me with a gentle kiss, his tongue tracing my bottom lip before he swivels his hand just right, sending me careening over the edge.

I cry out–a primal sound caught somewhere between their names and mindless ecstasy as I come apart beneath them, legs shaking with the force of my release.

Wyatt waits for me to come down before he positions me so I'm straddling Wilder with him hovering behind me, my body flush against theirs, so I can feel their cocks pushing against me.

"Now," Wyatt commands, his voice a low growl that has me shaking again.

"With pleasure," Wilder replies smoothly, lining up his cock at my entrance. I gasp as he thrusts inside, our eyes locked in a fierce gaze that speaks of possession and surrender.

"Oh god," I groan, the feeling of fullness radiating through my body like a live wire. Wyatt pours lube on my ass, spreading it and playing with me with his fingers until I'm nothing but a writhing begging mess.

And then he enters me, his cock stretching me without pause–it's hot and punishing, but I love it.

They move together now, one in purpose, their rhythm setting our world alight as they take me hard and fast, filling every orifice with their love. Emrys watches the display like its art.

Their sweat-slick skin slaps against me, they're breathing heavy and ragged. We are a unit now; Wilder and Wyatt pounding into me in perfect harmony to the beat of our shared heart. My body shakes from the force of it all, pleasure rippling through me in violent waves that leave me gasping for breath.

With every thrust, Wilder's cock slams into me, filling me up like he's claiming what's his. I can feel Wyatt's beard rubbing against my back as he matches his brother's rough pace. Their bodies are slick with sweat as they pump into me, and I can smell the masculine scent of their arousal mixed with mine. Emrys' hands roam wildly over my body, exploring every inch of my skin like a starving man at a feast. He tastes me, marking me as his own while he watches us fuck.

The bed creaks under our combined weight as we move together in a primal dance that makes me ache for more. The air is thick with need and desire; it's like walking through a sensual fog that only seems to make the passion hotter. My nipples rub against Wilder's chest, drawing out more groans from deep within me.

Their hips slam against my ass, their heavy breathing filling the room as if it were some forbidden thrill they've been waiting for. I can feel their hearts beating in time with my own, a primal rhythm of lust and love that makes me clench around them both.

Wilder's teeth clench and unclench as he bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes blazing with desire. Wyatt's thrusts gain speed and ferocity, his hands digging into my hips possessively. Emrys moves closer, one hand trailing up to stroke his cock while the other traces the damp skin of my stomach before dipping lower to tease at my clit. I gasp at the feeling, arching back into Wyatt's chest as he circles it perfectly.

I feel like I'm in a haze, lost in the heat and the rhythm of their bodies moving together. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the moans and growls that fill the room echo in my ears, it all combines to create a symphony of lust and desire. Our eyes lock, theirs fierce with determination; they take me hard and fast, claiming what's theirs until there's nothing left but pleasure coursing through my veins.

Emrys' touch is like a brand on my skin, possessive and hungry as he watches us fuck. He smirks at the show they're putting on for him, his hand stroking his cock faster in anticipation while he teases my clit.

My orgasm hits hard and fast, harder than before, my world narrowing down to the sensation of their cocks filling me up. I cry out as my body trembles beneath them, quaking with the force of it all.

They don't slow down though; instead, they ride me through it, thrusting harder and faster until I'm sure they'll shatter from sheer bliss. Wilder holds my hips savagely, keeping me pinned while Wyatt slams into me harder still, his movements rocking us both together.

Then, suddenly, Wilder and Wyatt's bodies tense, and they both grunt as they erupt inside me. I feel the heat of their release coating my inner walls, their groans echoing around us like a love song. They pull out slowly, leaving me aching for more as they collapse onto the bed next to me. Emrys takes his turn with a groan that sounds as if it comes from the depths of his soul, flipping me until I'm facing him and straddling his folded legs.

I hold on to his neck for dear life as lifts me with ease and slams me on his cock, stretching and filling me completely in one swift move.

We fall into a rhythm of our own then. Hot and fast, hard and unrelenting. He growls low in his throat every time he slams into me, marking me as his own, his eyes blazing with desire. I can't help but moan against the rough skin of his neck as he pounds into me, loving every inch of his punishing pace.

Emrys' scent is intoxicating, musky and masculine, filling my senses until I'm drunk on it all. He tastes like sin and survival as I chase my own release yet again under his skilled hands. His body flexes against mine, every muscle rippling with effort as he closes his eyes and pumps into me faster.

Our world is a haze of sweat and lust as he fucks me hard enough to leave bruises. His lips find my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks beneath his. I cry out again, digging my nails into his shoulders as he pushes me past my limits sending me careening over the edge again.

It's not long before he finds his release, his thick cum shooting up my insides and coating every inch of me. He groans deeply as he hollows out my womb, his hot seed filling me to the brim. And then he collapses backwards, pulling me onto his chest and leaving us connected.

Wyatt's hand strokes my hair gently as Wilder's fingers trace my spine. We lay there entwined, our hearts beating as one, the sound echoing in the silence.

Even though I'm sprawled across Emrys, with a tangle of limbs not all my own embracing me from all directions, I can't help but marvel at the absurdity and perfection of it all.

We're a mess of sweat-slicked skin and tangled sheets, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Just the mere thought of it all threatens to have laughter bubbling up inside me. It's ridiculous, this life we've stitched together. But, full of love and chaos and an unconventional harmony, it somehow works perfectly for us.

As the last echoes of pleasure fade, leaving behind a contented glow, I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of the men I love pressed against me. Our breathing slows, falls into unison, and I close my eyes, committing this moment to memory. The joy, the satisfaction, the sheer rightness of it all–it's a testament to the unconventional path we've chosen, one that's led us here, to this snapshot of pure bliss.

"Love you guys," I murmur, and I feel the kisses they press to my forehead, my shoulder, my back–sealing the vow we've lived by all these years. We're in it together, through every challenge and every celebration.

"We love you too," they echo back, a trio of voices that are my favorite symphony.

And as I drift on the edge of sleep, surrounded by the men who've become my world, I think maybe, just maybe, we've gotten the fairytale ending that no one ever saw coming.

This is it–my wild, unconventional, utterly perfect ending.

Acknowledgments

This was a difficult book to write, though not on a normal day.

In fact I chose to write Third Time’s a Charm because I needed a little breather between heavier projects. That is, until life got difficult. RomComs are possibly the hardest thing to write when all you want to do is curl into fetal position and sob.

So maybe this isn’t my best work, and I apologize for that, but you know what? I still did it. I still pushed through and finished it. And I think that matters.

I don’t want to hash every little bit of the struggle out here–because I do want to thank the magnificent Team Steele for TTAC–so let’s continue.

* * *

This time, my biggest thank you is going to my mom, who I recently lost, who I miss every single day. I knew it was coming, and I truly thought I was prepared, but I wasn’t. I don’t think there really is any way to prepare for something like that.

But I know you’re still watching.

And while you might smack me upside the head for some of the content I write in my books, I know you’re still proud of me for doing this at all. You told me that yourself. You owned my paperbacks, even if you never opened them past the title page.

So thank you. Thank you for loving me. For having pride in me. For teaching me. And for so, so much more.

And yes, I promise I’ll always take care of your boy. :)

I love you, Momma.

* * *

Okay. Whew. I did it.

With only like…a gallon of tears shed.

Now, let’s move on shall we?

A ginormous, heart-filled thank you to EVERYONE who has been a part of this journey with me.

It wasn’t easy, it was sooooooo late, and I STRUGGLED every step of the way. But all of you held on with me, pulled me back to my feet, and supported me in ways I will NEVER be able to repay. Though, I will spend the rest of my life trying.

I would have thrown this book in the trash months ago if it weren’t for all of you. No joke, it would have been like it never existed.

I seriously couldn’t have done this without you.

* * *

So here goes:

Mr. Steele – My unyielding knight in shining armor.

Luna May – My bright and cheery sunflower.

Del Parker – The realest and most loyal friend I have.

Kathryn Ann – My stalker and inspiration behind Kat.

Ashlee Rathje, Becky Ross Lee, Bobbi-Jo Hummel, Courtney Whetzel, Dominique Gabriel, and Maddi Anderson –

The masters behind the daunting task of edits and smoothing out my brain scramble.

My Readers. – The reason I keep doing this at all.

Truly, I wouldn’t have made it through this past year without ALL of you. I’m still here today because of your combined net of love that refused to let me fall.

Thank you.

And because there aren’t enough words in existence to express how grateful I am, I’ll leave you here…

Until next time.

Also by Persephone Steele

They Call Me Wicked

A blind psychic that spends her time catching bad guys for the police department.

Three smexy detectives ordered to protect her when all they want to do is see her dead.

What could go wrong?

Available Now:

https://books2read.com/TheyCallMeWicked

Also by Persephone Steele

The Breaking Series

She’s inappropriate — cracking cock jokes like they’re going out of style.

She’s sheltered — total small town girl.

She’s…somehow Arcanten’s most wanted criminal.

Completed Series Available Now:

https://books2read.com/DefiedTheBreakingSeries

Persephone Steele is a full time author and mother of two from the USA. Her favorite reads are Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, and anything by Brandon Sanderson or Robert Jordan.

She tries to pretend like she is a badass, no-nonsense type woman in all things, but deep down she is a warm snuggly bear who makes her family matching Christmas sweaters and cries every time she sees Mufasa die in The Lion King.

As a child, Persephone always had her nose in a book. It was an outlet, a passion, and an escape throughout her entire life. Her goal as an author is to not only entertain her readers, but to inspire them to follow their own dreams like she did.

You can find her in her facebook group: Persephone Steele’s Reader Group

Or check out her website: www.persephonesteele.com