The muscle twitching grew more pronounced in Ry’s jaw, and his nostrils flared. Bram knew he had his best friend by the short hairs. “Tell me you don’t want to be the one doing that to her.”
“Damn it. Of course I do.” The gruffness in Ry’s voice didn’t mask the underlying hunger in his tone.
“Then I think our mission is clear.” Bram gave a slow, triumphant smile. “This Christmas, we’re helping Lacey check off every item on her Naughty List.”
Chapter Five
It wasn’t her alarm clock that snapped Lacey from a deep snooze, but rather the loud, obnoxious droning of her next-door neighbor’s snow blower. Groaning, she rolled onto her back and winced as tiny pinpricks of pain lanced her temples. Oh man. Having that extra half a glass of wine had been a huge mistake.
Cautiously pulling her hand away from her eyes, she peered toward the window, where she could make out flurries of snow whipping against the glass.
What time was it, anyway?
Careful not to wrench her neck, she glanced toward the alarm clock on the nightstand. And yelped when she read the display. Nine a.m.! Why didn’t the damn alarm go off? Not wasting time to investigate the cause, she jumped out of bed and scurried into the bathroom. She wasn’t one of those business owners who catered to the idea of rolling into work whenever she pleased. She believed in setting a good example for the employees. In return, she liked to think they respected her work ethics. Quickly disrobing, she hopped into the shower. And promptly got pelted in the head with the bottle of shampoo that insisted on falling out of the caddy.
It was going to be one of those kinds of days.
Fifteen minutes later, she jumped into her car and dialed the heater to full blast in order to defrost the windshield. She huddled in her seat, her teeth chattering along with “Jingle Bells” on the radio. It occurred to her that she should probably call Ry and Bram to let them know she was on her way in. She rifled in her purse for her cell phone and somehow jabbed herself with a ballpoint pen. “Damn it.”
Finally she latched onto her phone and pulled it free. She must not have turned it off last night because a text message waited on the display.
Girl, WTF??? Call me as soon as you get this.
Frowning, Lacey checked to see who the sender was. Jana, Bram’s sister. She started to hit reply, but the clock on the dash brought her focus back to her current dilemma. She stared at the tiny peek holes that the heater had managed to create on the windshield. This was going to get her nowhere fast. Heaving a frustrated breath, she tossed the cell into her coat pocket and grabbed the ice scraper from the backseat. Several minutes later, the front and back windshields were cleared and her butt and legs were completely numb from the frigid temps. She scrambled back inside the relative warmth of her Pathfinder and roared out of her driveway.
The Dockside was less than seven miles from her home, which was particularly nice on days like this, when the weather was crappy and she was running late. She parked next to Ry’s truck and rushed toward the entrance. As she reached for the door handle, her bladder decided to pitch a fit. She squeezed her legs together. “This is what I get for sleeping in.”
Her gait awkward, she hurried inside the restaurant. Ry and Bram were standing by the bar, deep in conversation. They stopped and stared at her. She waved a hand and continued streaking toward the rear hallway.
“Lacey, we need to talk.” There was a strange tension in Ry’s voice.
“Sorry, but my bladder is outshouting you right now,” she called, beelining for the restrooms. She ducked inside the women’s room and dashed into one of the stalls in the nick of time. Her relieved sigh echoing in the cramped space, she flushed and went to wash up at the sink. While she was rinsing the suds from her hands, her cell phone started ringing. Hitting the sanitizing blower with her elbow, she dug with her free hand into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. “Hello?”
“Girl, what the fuck?”
It was Jana. Clutching the cell to her ear, Lacey moved away from the dryer so that she could hear better. “Is that your phrase for the day?”
“It will be if you keep sending me kinky emails.”
She frowned. “Kinky emails? What are you talking about?”
“Your Naughty List. What else would I be talking about?”
Naughty…
The blood slowly started to drain from Lacey’s head.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking about having a threesome? That’s so hot. Okay, so I’m trying not to think of you with Bram. Because that’s just a little too weird. But Ry? Day-um. Sign me up.”
Oh. My. God. How…?
Frantic, Lacey replayed the events of last night. She remembered forwarding the file to her work email. Why did it go to Jana?
Unless…
Oh sweet Jesus. Did she accidentally send the email to a contact list rather than herself? Her email account had an autofill feature that she was usually pretty good about catching, but the damn wine she drank last night had definitely left her brain fuzzy. She racked her mind, trying to think of what directory started with the same letters as her name, one that would include Jana in the list. The answer slammed into her. Her “lame laughs” directory—appropriately titled because everyone on it had the same cornball sense of humor as her and appreciated the silly articles she occasionally found online and forwarded on. If that was the case—and it sure as hell looked like it—it meant everyone in that particular directory got the file. The contents of her stomach gave a dangerous lurch.
“Lacey? You still there?”
“I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.” She hung up before Jana could protest. Her palms were so clammy, the cell phone nearly slipped from her hand. She shoved it into her coat pocket and collapsed against the wall. Her face alternated between icy cold and blistering hot. The blower had ceased its thunderous noise, making the pounding whoosh inside her head all the more apparent.
There was no way this was happening.
Only it was.
The good news was her “lame laughs” contact list was woefully small. Besides Jana, the only other people on it were…
Oh. Shit.
Her belly roiled and she pressed a shaky hand to her mouth.
Ry and Bram.
How was she ever going to look them in the eye? She swallowed down her nausea. Even though she knew it was pointless, she darted her gaze around the bathroom, looking for a possible escape plan. One that would miraculously teleport her to her car so she could make a quick getaway. Preferably to Hawaii, or some other destination far, far away from here.
A thought occurred to her in mid panic attack. Maybe Bram and Ry hadn’t seen the email yet. If not, she could hack into their accounts and—
Lacey, we need to talk.
Her heart sank as Ry’s tense demand spun in her mind.
They’d read the email. She couldn’t fool herself into believing otherwise. Just like she couldn’t fool herself into thinking she’d get out of the conversation waiting for her on the other side of the bathroom door. Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, she pushed away from the wall and prepared to face her best friends.
Two men who now—without a question of a doubt—knew she wanted a kinky threesome.
Yeah, this wouldn’t be awkward. At all.
The desire to race back inside the restroom stall and have a mental breakdown—or throw up—was overwhelming. Somehow she found the fortitude to take a shaky step toward the door. Then another. You can do this, damn it. She stepped out into the back hallway. The restaurant was eerily quiet. It was easy to pretend that she was the only one in the entire building.