The Strength of Three Read online

  Dedication

  Thanks Nic and TK for your input. And, sis, I love the couch. I think I’ll keep it.

  Chapter One

  Soft rock blared from a pair of onstage speakers. Christina Marshall rubbed at her temple, trying to ease the growing ache. She would win an Oscar for tonight’s outstanding performance. No one had noticed her underlying unease. At least, she didn’t think anyone had.

  She glanced around the rented reception room again. As parties went for landing a monstrous account, this one beat all, Chris guessed, since she wasn’t into this kind of thing. Her coworkers danced and talked and seemed to truly be having a good time. All while drowning themselves in whatever they could purchase from the cash bar. One big Friday after-work happy hour.

  Christina had to admit that everyone did appear happy. Except for her. No! You do look happy, Marshall. Suck it up. One hour. You only have to make it one hour before slipping out. That was the time she’d set for herself and she was going to stick to it even if it killed her. Chris slapped a goofy smile on her face and hoped it didn’t make her look like she needed a straitjacket.

  Yep, she was most definitely happy. Happy as a clam. Happy as a lark.

  Right. She would be just as happy to have a huge, hairy wart suddenly show up on her nose tomorrow morning.

  Maybe clenching her glass full of now-warm Coke hard enough to shatter it constituted happiness. Or grinding her teeth and jaw into oblivion. Nope, had to be the sharp pain settling smack dab between her eyes because she couldn’t stop darting her attention from one coworker to the next, making sure they didn’t bring their drunken, happy asses any closer to her.

  Happy.

  Her best friend, Aislinn, now fiancée to their boss, Kyle Turner III, sauntered over. “Your smile’s fading, sweetie. You’re supposed to at least look like you’re having fun.”

  “I am having fun.” A regular ol’ barrel of monkeys.

  “Right. That’s why you’re coming across like someone killed your puppy.” Aislinn sipped her ice tea, a drink Chris knew her friend had chosen in deference to her.

  “You leave Clodhopper out of this,” Christina half-grumbled, half-laughed. The woman had it all. A great fiancé, a fantastic house or…mansion might be a better word, and the ability to see the future whenever said ability decided to rear its not-always-friendly head. Hell, Aislinn had saved Kyle’s life a few months back thanks to an early warning.

  But once upon a time, she’d been in a very similar situation as Chris. Afraid of men because her sadistic ex-husband had stalked her with the intent to possess her no matter what it took. Chris didn’t have an ex, she had a bastard of a father who drank too much and took out his anger with his fists. Usually on her mother’s face. And yet, her mother loved the asshole and refused to leave him. Unlike Chris, who’d gotten out the first chance she’d had.

  Aislinn sighed and set her tea down to take Chris’s hand, uncurling her fingers from their fisted position to trap them between her own two hands. Her touch soothed Chris’s tattered nerves, bringing her back from the direction her thoughts were taking her.

  “I am so jealous of you, Ais.”

  Aislinn snorted. “Of what?”

  “The way you got over your ex and embraced Kyle.”

  “Yes, well, my ex only thought he could control me. He didn’t get drunk and beat me to a pulp and he certainly never groveled on his knees the next day, crying and apologizing for hitting me. Besides, Kyle is a pigheaded man who uses little things like mind-blowing orgasms to redirect me when I start thinking about the past.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “It is. You’ll find it yourself one day, Chris.”

  Chris shrugged the consoling thought off, but found her gaze lifting and searching the room. Two sets of piercing eyes connected with hers. She knew one was the blue of a cloudless sky and the other was so dark brown they were almost black. Both men straightened from the spots where they lounged near the bar and Chris swallowed. Two lean, muscle-packed bodies that could most likely break her in half easily. Why did she feel they would never do that to her? Maybe she felt their sense of honor from being in the military. Or maybe she’d seen them in action around other women, heard the rumors about how good they were in… No, she wasn’t even going to go there.

  A tingle of something wrapped around her. No way would she say it was awareness. She didn’t want a man. Ever. Especially not one of those two.

  “Much better.” Aislinn patted her hand like she was a child.

  “What’s better?” Chris couldn’t make herself look away. The men lifted their glasses in a mock salute, equally devilish grins gracing their faces. Her stomach somersaulted as she eyed their beverages held high. Beer? Something harder? It was too dim to tell across the distance.

  “Your fingernails are no longer digging into my hand.”

  Chris gasped and, finally breaking the link between herself and TJ Mcfee and Jonathan Winslow, stared in horror at the damage she’d done to her best friend’s skin.

  “See?” Aislinn’s lips curled at the corners. “Even if you don’t want to admit it, your subconscious knows those guys won’t hurt you.”

  Oh, good God, could Aislinn read minds too? “How in the hell do you figure that, Ms. Freud?” she huffed.

  “Because from the minute you spotted them, your whole body relaxed.”

  Had it? Shit, Aislinn was right. Chris realized the tension was gone from her jaw and her Coke was no longer in danger of being smashed to smithereens. She jerked her gaze back to TJ and Jon. TJ had his thumbs hooked in the waistband of his jeans and Jon leaned negligently against the bar, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Her heart thudded, this time for a reason other than fear of the half-tanked bodies surrounding her. Why? How could Aislinn see something Chris couldn’t—or subconsciously wouldn’t? Was it possible Chris actually felt something other than total disgust for the male species with TJ or Jon? If so, what, and for which one?

  She sucked in a quick breath and changed the subject. “Where is Mr. Turner, anyway?”

  “If Kyle heard you call him Mr. Turner he’d probably dock your pay somehow.”

  Chris laughed. “Sorry, but the man is my boss.”

  “Yes, but he’s my fiancé and it’s weird to hear you call him Mr. Turner.”

  “You were calling him the same thing a few months ago.”

  “Touché.”

  “So, you didn’t answer my question. Where is your man? I thought he and TJ and Jon were attached at the hips. Does your bed get crowded at night?” There was always attitude to hide behind when all else failed.

  “Nope. Not at night, but sometimes it does on the mornings they run together. I swear when those guys come in all bare-chested and sweaty from their five mile run, it’s like slurping heaven. I just want to lick the three of them up.”

  “Shut up,” Chris snarled. This time when her fingers tightened on the glass it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the green-eyed monster called jealousy, which was stupid since she knew Aislinn was teasing her. Kyle wouldn’t let another man within a foot of Aislinn.

  Chris’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t jealous. Couldn’t be. Not over her best friend’s obvious attempt at getting a rise out of her, and not about a man. Men. No.

  Aislinn blinked and her lips curved up in a smile she tried to hide. “I thought you wanted to know. You asked.”

  “I didn’t mean that and you know it.” Chris snorted. “You’ve never licked the sweat off anyone but Kyle and I don’t want to know about it.”

  “Ah, but you did want to know about TJ and Jon. Don’t deny it, Chris. I may be the last person to be giving advice on men here, sweetie, but what can it hu
rt to give them a try? Have a fling, get them out of your system—if that’s what needs to happen—and move on. Besides, you put on a skirt for them and let your hair down, you know you did.”

  Chris choked on her Coke. She had not put this skirt on for them. She’d worn it because…well, it had been a moment of insanity that had urged her to take it out of her closet this morning and bring it to work to change into for this party. She had not been thinking about the way it flowed around her legs so nicely just above the knee. So nicely someone else might notice too. She hadn’t. The hair thing wasn’t for them either. She’d chosen to leave her long blonde strands down to float around her shoulders where it emphasized her slender neck and framed her heart-shaped face because the ponytail had been giving her a headache. Yeah. That was it.

  Aislinn chuckled. “I can see the denial written all over your face and I must say, you’re so full of shit your eyes are brown.”

  Chris snorted. “My eyes are always brown.” Then Aislinn’s words sank in. “Them? Them? What do you mean them? Jeez, can’t I at least do one at a time?” Which one would that be? If anything was going to happen she’d have to choose one over the other, but how? Both had endearing qualities, both were God’s gift to sex on a stick and… What the hell was she thinking? She didn’t want either of them. She’d heard the rumors about them sharing a woman, yeah. Straight from Aislinn’s mouth, even. Didn’t make her believe them. Didn’t make her want it so bad she could taste it. Why would any woman in the world want to put up with two men, for cripes sake?

  Stop. Stop thinking. You don’t want either one. You don’t.

  Aislinn’s face wrinkled up. “I believe they come as a package deal.”

  “No way.” How childish did that sound? From the corner of her eye she saw Jon straighten from his sprawl near the bar and step toward them. TJ moved with him. “Crap. They heard me didn’t they? Did I really say it that loud?”

  “Yes,” Aislinn answered dryly.

  Chris spun around, turning her back on them. “They’re coming.”

  Aislinn stood on tiptoe and peered over Chris’s shoulder. “Uh-huh.”

  “Great. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Why? Why are they coming?” She grasped Aislinn’s arm with her free hand. She felt like a damn schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher she didn’t want anyone to know about.

  “I don’t know, but stop spazzing out. Take a breath. In. Out. It might be because you said it loud enough to bring the roof down. Maybe they’re worried about you?”

  “Are you serious about them…” Chris gulped, “…sharing?” she hissed.

  “Yes.”

  Chris’s knees nearly buckled and enough heat pooled between her legs she had to fight the urge to rub her clit. What the hell was happening to her and why was it culminating now of all times?

  “Hello ladies.” Jon’s gravelly voice sounded behind her a second before a hand landed on the small of her back.

  Aislinn smiled at her, a big toothy grin that said she was pleased with what was happening. Chris straightened like an arrow and narrowed her eyes at her best friend. Had she planned this? She tried to think if that scenario was possible but came up empty. Aislinn hadn’t given a two-fingered whistle and beckoned the men over. Chris hadn’t even seen her make eye contact with them. Had to be all her own doing. She brought them to her with her idiotic loud voice.

  This was not happening. Those warm fingertips were not burning a hole straight through her and making her want the touch on more pertinent parts of her anatomy. Her pulse was not racing a mile a minute and her nipples were not hardening into pencil-sharp points. And most of all, their smell was not enticing her to do things like turn around and sniff their necks.

  “Hello, TJ, Jon,” Aislinn said amiably. “Chris and I were just talking about Kyle.”

  “Ah. So that’s what all the screaming was about.” TJ moved to Chris’s side with a chuckle.

  He was laughing at her. “All the screaming? Two words. I inadvertently, and with a small amount of noise, said two words. All right, yelled. I yelled them. You act like I made a commotion.”

  “Oh, look, a table opened up. Let’s sit, shall we?” Aislinn said, guiding them off topic and saving Chris from humiliating herself further. Aislinn took Chris’s elbow and steered her to a round high table with three stools positioned around it. “How many chairs do we need, Jon?” She herded another seat from a nearby table.

  Chris watched as Jon’s glance took in the nice-sized room packed with almost all of Turner Industries’ employees. What he was looking for, she didn’t know. He and TJ had taken up residence, flanking her sides. Did they think she was going to make a break for it?

  Probably. She thought she might too. Now looked good.

  Jon put his hand on her back again and both he and TJ reached for the same chair and pulled it out. “I think just seven. Joe’s here and Kyle and Marsha are on their way.”

  Chris found herself shepherded onto the high stool with the aid of one of their hands on each of her arms. Kind of made slipping away hard to do.

  “Hey, there’s Kyle now.” Aislinn sounded so happy. A twinge of jealousy reared its ugly head again inside Chris’s brain. She wanted to feel that way about a man someday too. She cocked her head. Maybe she should try lesbianism.

  Nah. She didn’t begrudge anyone their preference in lifestyles, she just didn’t think it was right for her. Somehow she had to get over her fears and move on. Trust. It was all about trust.

  Then again, maybe she already trusted someone. She peeked from the corner of her eye at TJ and then at Jon. Could it be? Did her body trust them even if her mind didn’t? Is that why she didn’t go all screwball with them near like she did with other men? She hadn’t seen them display any kind of negative vibes at work, but then her dad had a public face too. One he wore in the light of day. Midday, after his hangover allowed him to creep out of bed.

  Chris hated her father for giving her every reason in the world not to like men. Her brother, Carter, who was turning into the same kind of man as their father, and the two men she’d tried to have relationships with in the past had solidified her view of the species. Men were scum, plain and simple.

  Aislinn, therefore, must have found the one and only penis that wasn’t.

  One of TJ or Jon’s colognes wafted under her nose. She pictured a cartoon-style trail of smoke creeping toward her. One end was curled into a hook, beckoning her like someone crooking their finger. It flooded her nostrils, forcing her to turn her head and look to the man it had come from. Jonathan. Those sky blue eyes glittered back at her and she had to swallow.

  Okay, if she were truly honest with herself, maybe he made her want to try the whole relationship game again. With him, no one else. Maybe Aislinn was right. What could a fling hurt? Might get the burgeoning flame that flickered through her body whenever she looked at him, out of her system.

  She turned and faced TJ and felt the same flare of heat. Crap.

  Chris crossed her legs. It was damn hot in the bar if the sweat at her apex was anything to go by. Good thing she didn’t wear pantyhose. She could practically feel the itchiness superimposed over her thighs, the tickling of nylon along her crotch.

  She sprang upright. When, at any time in her life, had pantyhose ever made her crotch tingle? But if she had worn them, she could have blamed what she felt on them. What was wrong with her?

  “Can we get you another drink? Teej is going up.” Jon’s words rumbled next to her ear, sending a shockwave of longing sweeping through her.

  Her tummy flipped over. “Uh-uh.” Was she answering him about the drink, or denying out loud that one, or possibly two, particular men were making her pussy tickle? Lord, maybe she wasn’t even really sweating. Maybe she was…creaming?

  Mortified at her own thoughts, she stared straight ahead and refused to look at Jon as she shook her head. Her pulse throbbed at the junction of her thighs. Right about the spot her clit would be—oh Lord, she had it bad. She wanted a man. Men, she c
onceded. She wanted both these men. Which only confirmed she wasn’t as dead toward the male species as she would like to believe. It absolutely did not make her want to sacrifice herself to them. Wanting was one thing, doing another.

  Joe Archer from Turner’s design team ambled over. Joe was a prime example why she wouldn’t act on her desires for anyone. From the look of the man, he had already overindulged. Chris sighed. Deep down inside she knew she wasn’t being fair to the opposite sex. They weren’t all like her father or Joe. Surely not every man on the face of the earth drank too much. She knew they didn’t and it was unrealistic to think she’d never find one of them. It was also damn hard to get over the fears she’d experienced first-hand. The ones she’d lived with for most of her life.

  She felt Jon press against her. Only the wooden chair back separated them and his hands landed on her shoulders in silent support.

  How did he know?

  He swiped aside the escaped tendrils of hair at her nape with his thumbs and dug in to knead the tense muscles at the base of her neck. Chris’s spine melted, pushing her into his caress. He could give her a massage anytime.

  You are losing your ever-loving mind. Hadn’t she just convinced herself she would do nothing?

  “He won’t touch you, I promise.” Jon’s warm breath fanned over her cheek when he bent so only she could hear. She gave a slight nod, accepting for the moment that he spoke the truth. See? There it was, her body trusted him instinctively, a split second before she even realized what he’d said. What made her trust him she didn’t know, but it felt right. Better than Joe’s presence anyhow.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late.” Kyle pulled a stool out and helped Aislinn onto its high seat. Too bad there was a seat separating them because Chris really needed a female close by right now. Jonathan was quickly becoming too easy to be next to.

  She tilted her head, semi-guiding Jon’s fingers to a particular spot, and heard him chuckle.

  “Marsha had to run home to a sick kid so she won’t be here.”

  Rats. There went another XX chromosome. There was a conspiracy at work here tonight.