"Someone has to worry about the small stuff."
"I suppose. But why not worry about what you want for yourself?"
The song ended and, as Carlos escorted her back to their table, Trish knew he was right. She'd spent a lifetime worrying about other people's problems and maybe it was time she thought about what she wanted for a change.
She was on the short list for the job at the bank, but nothing definite had been decided, meaning she wasn't committed in any way. Once her grandmother's house sold, it would more than pay for her student loans, and the lease on her apartment would run out in a little under three months. Guy was right-there was nothing stopping her from doing whatever she cared to do.
But was moving to Paris and setting up house with two guys she'd only known for three weeks what she really wanted?
Deep down, she knew that was exactly what she wanted, but suppose it turned out to be a huge mistake? What if, after a few weeks or months, she changed her mind and wanted to go home? She'd always been careful and cautious, never making snap decisions or jumping in without looking, and that way she'd kept out of trouble.
Still, maybe, just this once, she should go with her heart? Say to hell with everything and take a chance.
Trish knew she could soul search and agonize for the next month, but it wouldn't change the two things that remained uppermost in her mind-if it didn't work out the way she hoped, she could always return home. If she said no, she would not be given a second chance.
If there was anything holding her back it was the small, but not completely insignificant fact, that neither Guy nor Carlos had said they loved her. She knew they cared. It was there in everything they did for or with her-every look, every word. They made her feel like the center of their universe. But was just feeling loved enough? Or did she need the assurance of hearing them say the actual words?
After they left the club and went back to the apartment, Trish half-expected either Guy or Carlos to start pressing her for an answer, or at least try a little more gentle persuasion. But, apart from being quieter than usual, both men were acting pretty much the same as they'd done every other evening since she'd been there-Carlos was checking his appointments for tomorrow, and Guy was watching the news. They'd stated their case and now it seemed the next move was up to her.
"Anyone for a nightcap?" Carlos called out.
"I'll have a beer," Guy replied. "You want something, Trish?"
"I think there's still a little of the wine we had with dinner. If you don't want it, Carlos, I'll have that."
While the men were fixing the drinks, Trish went to the bathroom where she undressed, removed her make-up, and put on a robe. Picking up a hairbrush, she gave her shoulder-length hair its nightly one hundred strokes, and with each stroke told herself she was doing the right thing. When she was finished, she put down the brush and regarded her reflection in the mirror.
Okay, no more dithering, hesitating, or second-guessing. This was it.
She opened the bathroom door expecting to find the guys were still relaxing with their drinks in the living room. However, the lights were out, and she could hear the soft murmur of voices coming from the bedroom.
Her bare feet made no sound on the polished wood floor, and when she reached the open doorway, she hesitated.
Both men were naked and Guy was on his back, propped against the mountain of pillows, while Carlos was curled up at his side with his head on Guy's chest and one hand idly caressing Guy's belly. The drinks were waiting on a tray on the nightstand, and both men appeared to be completely unaware of her presence.
She knew how much they loved one another-it was there in every look, every gesture. She also knew Guy and Carlos had been friends since they were children-two small boys, one French, the other Spanish, shipped off to the rigors of an English boarding school by rich parents more interested in pursuing their own lives than caring for the needs of their sons.
"Do you think she loves us as much as we love her?" Carlos said, a slightly wistful tone to his voice. "She's right when she says we barely know one another. But, really, how much time does a person need to know when they're right?"
"Took me less than five seconds," Guy admitted with a chuckle. "We were in such a rush to get our hands on one another, we didn't even bother to introduce ourselves."
"You had sex without exchanging names?" Carlos smiled and shook his head. "I don't believe it. I always thought you had such nice manners." He stopped stroking Guy's belly and began to concentrate on his cock. "It took me quite a bit longer than five seconds. But then, I admit, I was trying hard to resist."
Guy frowned. "Resist? Why did you want to do that?"
Carlos swirled his tongue around the tip of his partner's penis, and Trish watched the play of emotion across both their faces. "Because women are usually so bossy. Always trying to control everyone."
"Trish isn't like that. If anyone's bossy, it's you. You love telling people what to do."
Trish took off her robe and dropped it on a nearby chair as she stepped into the room. Just then, Guy opened his eyes and blew her a kiss, and suddenly there was no more doubt left for her to deal with.
"Is this a private party, or can I join in?"
Carlos looked up with a cheeky grin. "That depends."
Trish pressed one knee against the edge of the bed. "On what?"
"Are you going back to Canada or staying here with us? I can't stand the not knowing."
"Well…" Donning a serious expression, she sat down on the bed and stroked a hand over Carlos' short, dark curls. "Common sense tells me moving to Paris and playing house with you two is crazy, ridiculous and I should have my sanity questioned. We barely know one another, so it's all those things and more. I should probably be certified and locked up for even considering the idea. But I love you guys, I really do."
Guy didn't wait for any more. He reached for her, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close to his body. "So your answer is yes?"
"You don't think we should all take some time to think this through properly?"
"Nothing for me to think about," Guy said in a husky voice. "Je t'aime, chérie. And that will not change. Carlos?"
Carlos was silent for a moment, then he smiled and reached for Trish's hand. "I love you, too. And if we all follow our hearts and stay true to one another, how can we possibly go wrong?"
Christiane France
Christiane truly believes that love makes the world go round, so she likes stories with both happy and bittersweet endings. Christiane has been writing romance for the past twenty years and lives near Niagara Falls with her husband and The Boys-two black and white Persian cats.
