Eyes Wide Open (27 page)

James piped up, “And so am I, Fiona. I love you!” The last sentence was said with an excited giggle, and she turned to him, wide-eyed and stunned into silence.

It seemed that Logan couldn’t handle the silence. Agony laced his voice as he said, “Fiona, say something, please.”

Her neck twisting left and right to look at each of them in turn, and feeling as though she was watching a tennis match, she replied, “I—I don’t know what to say. I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“You weren’t?” Logan said, scornfully. “Are you mad? We’re fucking
crazy
about you, Fiona. And we want you to move in with us.”

“Wait—you
what?
” Blinking, she scrabbled to get her thoughts into some kind of order.

Logan sighed, and James cupped her cheek and turned her to face him. His green eyes fixed on hers, he said quietly, “It’s really not that surprising, Fiona. Think about it. If there were two of us, this would be the natural next step. So why the hell shouldn’t we be the same?”

He was right, and she knew it. Knew it from the very bottom of her heart. The heart that still raced, the heart that loved them, both of them, right back, and fiercely. She’d felt this way for some time, and they deserved to know.

She took a deep breath. They’d said it first, so why was she so nervous? Rejection wasn’t going to happen here. There was no risk—they all loved each other. Life was good. Amazing.
Spectacular.

“I…” Standing suddenly, she stepped away from the sofa, then turned so she could see them both at the same time without getting a crick in her neck. “I love you, too. Both of you. Madly!”

Warmth flooded her being as she watched their faces break into huge smiles. It wasn’t conventional, but so what? It was nothing to do with anyone else, and anyone that didn’t like it would have to jolly well lump it. They’d agreed long ago that their happiness was the only thing that really mattered.

Nodding decisively, she opened her mouth. A thought slammed into her head, strangling the words before they came out.

“Shit.”

Both men looked at her with concern. “What is it, sweetheart?” James said.

“I meant what I just said—truly I did. But I can’t move in with you. I want to, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” Logan said, a deep crease appearing between his eyebrows.

“Well.” She flopped down onto the sofa behind her, and scraped a hand through her hair. “You know the PR courses I did?” The question was rhetorical, but they nodded anyway. “Well, when they were arranged, I was reminded of a clause in my contract. Basically, because the Totally Five Star has funded my progression, they understandably want to get their money’s worth. So I can’t leave the company until two years have elapsed from the completion of my course. My
most recent
course,” she added, reminding them all that she’d completed her third only a week previously.

Several seconds passed, and Fiona felt, for some reason, that she had to say something else. “I’m sorry, guys. I really am. Wait for me?” Her voice was tiny by the end, and she hated how meek she sounded. But she couldn’t help it—they’d all just laid their hearts bare and now she ran the risk of losing it all because of some small print in a fucking contract!

Logan, who was still frowning, said, “Surely there’s an exception to that rule? A company can’t keep you trapped somewhere against your will.”

Fiona shook her head. “No exceptions. If I leave, I have to pay back the money for the courses. And given that I’ve done all three back to back, that means I’d have to pay for all three. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Wait,” Logan said, “so that’s it? If you leave, you just have to pay the money back they shelled out?”

“Yeah. But didn’t you hear what I just said? I don’t have that kind of money!”

“Maybe not, but we do.”

“No.” She shook her head again. “Absolutely not. I’ve worked my arse off to get to this stage. I’m not going to walk away now and have it all go to waste. And I’m definitely not going to take money from you to do so.”

“Who said anything about walking away and taking our money? We’re not looking for a housekeeper, Fiona. We just want you with us, every day, instead of every few weeks. We’d expected that you’d get another PR job somewhere in Cambridge or close by. Especially now you’ve got those qualifications under your belt. You could even consider commuting, if you wanted to. Whatever you want to do, we’ll support you. And if that means a
loan
to pay the Totally Five Star off, then so be it. It’s a small price to pay if it means you moving in with us.”

“Bloody hell, this is a lot to take in.”

“I know, sweetheart,” James said, moving over and sitting next to her, “and we’re sorry we sprang it on you like this. But we couldn’t keep quiet any longer. It’s been driving us crazy for weeks. It’s out in the open now, though, and I couldn’t be more delighted. But when it comes to the moving in with us and your job situation, we’ve no intention of pressuring you. Like Logan said, we’ll support you, whatever you decide. Even if you decide
not
to move in with us. We love you, and that’s not going to change. Yes, we miss you like crazy every time we’re apart, but if that’s the decision you make, we’ll live with it. We’re not going anywhere, all right? The decision is yours, and you make it when you’re ready.”

Logan piped up, “And nothing’s going to change with our job situation. We’ll still be in London every few weeks or so. If you move to Cambridge, you can come into London with us. You could stay here as an actual guest, no creeping around, and we can keep attending the various BDSM events. I know you’re the one that’s making the sacrifice here, honey. Trust me, I know. But, ultimately, all we want is for you to be happy. So take a few days, give it some thought and let us know. Okay?”

She nodded, silently implying that she hadn’t already made her decision. But she had. Ignoring the part about them paying the course fees, her instinct had been to say yes. They’d been in this kind of limbo for months already, and although it hadn’t made her
un
happy, she’d known for a while that the metaphorical bridge was looming. The only thing that could improve on the amazing life they had was to spend more of it together.

Yes, she loved her job, her burgeoning career at the Totally Five Star, and she’d desperately miss her colleagues, her friends, being part of such an amazing team and an iconic company. But what it came down to was—jobs came and went, but a love like this, a love like she, James and Logan had, was rare. And there was no way she was going to let it slip through her fingers. Not a bloody chance.

“Yes,” she said, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Great,” Logan said, smiling. “So you’ll let us know, then?”

Frowning, she replied, “No, I mean
yes.
Yes! I’ll move in with you. Not right away—I’ll need to find another job, as I’m not up for the commute, work my notice and so on, but as soon as I can. I will gratefully take a
loan
from you guys, which I will pay back. And while we’re on the subject of finance, we’ll need to discuss my contribution to the household—”

Her words were abruptly cut off as James pressed his lips against hers. Startled, she remained motionless for a second or two before responding. She heard Logan’s whoop of delight from across the room, then, as she melted into James’ embrace, heard Logan again, on the phone this time.

“There’s champagne already on ice? Excellent. Great, thank you. We’ll be down in half an hour. No, out front is fine. Hey, guys,” he continued, interrupting them, “can you put each other down? We’ve got a limo to catch!”

Breaking apart, Fiona and James looked at Logan. From the corner of her eye, she could see that James’ expression wasn’t one of surprise. Whatever Logan had planned, he was in on it. “A limo?” she asked. “Where are we going?”

“Going?” Logan said, practically bouncing as he pulled her up off the sofa. “We’re going for a quick shower and to get dressed, then we’re going for lunch. A celebratory lunch.”

“Um, okay… Where to?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Fiona rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Okay, but am I going to need a change of clothes? I only have these, and what I wore last night.”

“Good point,” Logan said, then dialed out on his phone again. “Change of plan, make it forty-five minutes. Thank you.” Moving over to the door, he opened it. “Get a move on then, gorgeous. I want you in your most comfortable smart-casual wear and in front of this hotel in forty-five minutes. If not, I’m coming to your room to give you a hiding.”

“And what if I want a hiding?” she shot back, raising her eyebrows provocatively.

With a groan, he said, “Just go. I’ll owe you a hiding, all right? Don’t be late for this lunch…or what we’ve got planned afterward.”

Grabbing her stuff, she gave James a peck on the cheek, scurried to the door and kissed Logan on the lips. “Yes, Sir. Forty-five minutes.”

Smacking her arse on her way out, he said, “See you then.”

She’d just opened the door to her room when she heard her phone bleep. A text message from James.

For God’s sake, act surprised in front of Logan, but thought I should warn you what we’ve got planned so you can dress accordingly. Itinerary: lunch at the top of The Shard, a private pod on the London Eye and a boat on the Serpentine. So probably not a skirt ;) I love you, J xx

Almost tripping over a pair of shoes she’d left on the floor in her haste to get into the room, she closed the door before composing a reply.

Wow. Okay, Mum’s the word. And trousers it is. See you soon. Love you too, F xx

Pressing ‘Send’, she hugged the phone to her chest and jigged excitedly on the spot a couple of times, before making a move to get ready. She wanted to be back with her gorgeous guys, and pronto. It looked as though she had yet another amazing day with them ahead, a day of celebration, and hopefully there would be many, many more to come.

Also available from Pride Publishing:

Totally Five Star: Life Under New Management

Jane Davitt

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Tell me why you think I should hire you, Mr. Naylor.”

Andy directed another winning smile at the man behind the desk. Ethan Mason hadn’t responded to the last three, but maybe they were chipping away at the ice—ice that had formed when he’d told Ethan to call him Andy then solidified after the confession that most of his experience of bars had been as a customer.

“I’m a hard worker.” If he was doing something interesting. “Reliable.” Up to a point. “Good with people.” True. “I invented a cocktail once.” Then drank so many of them, he’d forgotten the ingredients. Puked up around three in the morning. It had been a nasty mess.

Ethan pushed back his heavy wooden chair—no padding for this guy—and stood. Not an overly tall man, no obvious muscles bulging underneath the dark gray suit, but Andy guessed Ethan could break up a bar fight if needed without ruffling his smooth, dark hair. Cool guy. Ice-cool. And now ‘ice, ice, baby’ was stuck in his head in a retro hip-hop loop-de-loop, and shit, he
needed
this job. His rent was due. His place was a crappy dump, but this was Vancouver and even shoebox-sized rooms without a view of the water or the mountains—which took some doing—weren’t cheap. He hadn’t heard back about the dog food commercial yet, but something told him he hadn’t gotten the part—the something being his main competition emerging from the final interview with lips barely dry from giving a blow job. No jizz streaking his chin, but that smug, used look was unmistakable. Andy had seen it in a mirror often enough, but he sucked cocks for pleasure, not to get a job. When he got his first major role—and he would, anytime soon—it would be down to his acting talent and nothing else.

His determination was wearing thin after a few years of bit parts that went nowhere, but he patched it when needed.

“Show me,” Ethan said and left his office without looking back.

Andy chewed the inside of his cheek—a bad habit he had to stop—and followed him. They walked along a hallway with doors opening off it—storeroom, break room, cleaning supplies, the paintwork clean, the black and white floor tiles freshly mopped. Even behind the scenes, the Totally Five Star Hotel lived up to its name. The corridor led to a swinging door with a narrow glass panel set in it, allowing safe passage in either direction.

Behind the door was a bar, although not the main one for the hotel. Andy had seen that on the way in, impressed by the muted elegance of the place, all gleaming brass and dark green carpet, the swoop of the counter drawing attention to the glitter of glasses and bottles behind it. This was a smaller lounge—clean, severe lines, a black granite surface shimmering in the overhead lights as if it was liquid instead of solid enough to resist the blade of a knife, the walls painted bronze. Upmarket but still welcoming. At eight-thirty in the morning, it was empty.

Ethan kept going, opening a gate to give him access to the room. He took a seat on a stool with a curved back. Did that make it a chair or did they need four legs? Andy wasn’t about to ask.

Ethan tapped the bar. “Make me your cocktail. And without getting tacky—we don’t twirl bottles here—give me something to look at.”

“Huh?” Andy’s tie made his blue eyes a shade darker, but it had clearly developed a new ability of tightening at crucial moments, throttling the wearer. He couldn’t breathe. He was a performer, for God’s sake. What was wrong with him? He’d always excelled at improv sessions, even when the audience was hostile or unreceptive, and Ethan was neither of those. More like a teacher with a disappointing student, waiting for the correct answer and sure it wouldn’t be forthcoming.

“I’m a customer in a classy cocktail bar. I’m about to pay fifteen dollars for a fancy drink with an improbable name from an attractive young man.” Ethan’s mouth twitched. Not a smile. More of a pained grimace. “Give me my money’s worth, Mr. Naylor. Charm me, so the tip I leave is a generous one.”