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“Guess we wore her out.”

Matt chuckled. “Yeah. Can’t imagine how though. I mean all she did was a hard day of work on the ranch, eat a big dinner, drink a couple glasses of wine and indulge in a little foreplay with two horny cowboys.”

Mark tried not to laugh, afraid he’d wake her up. “Help me get up. I don’t want to disturb her.”

Matt rose and lightly lifted Bridget off Mark’s chest. Once he’d managed to untangle himself from her boneless limbs, they lay her back on the couch. She rolled over onto her side, but didn’t stir. Instead, she seemed to fall into a deeper sleep.

“I suppose you’re gonna want to talk about this.” Matt’s tone proved he was uncomfortable with the prospect of getting into a conversation.

“Actually I’m not sure what to say.” It was the truth. The whole experience had caught Mark off guard. He wanted to suggest they sleep on it, but he knew he’d want the same thing in the morning that he wanted right now. He wanted Bridget. And he wanted to share her with his brother.

Matt was visibly shocked by his response. “You’re not freaking out?”

Mark shook his head.

“You’re not going to analyze the shit out of this and give me a million reasons why it’s wrong?”

Again, Mark shook his head no.

Matt’s shoulders fell, and for the first time in his life, Mark realized he’d done something that shocked his brother. He’d spent a lifetime being the reliable one, predictable and boring to the end, while Matt was the loose cannon.

“I’m not sorry about what happened tonight, Mark.”

Mark turned to face his brother. Clearly Matt still expected him to balk. “I’m not either.”

Unsatisfied, Matt pressed the issue. “I’m not stopping here. I want Bridget in my bed.” Matt paused, then added the words they both needed to hear, out loud. “In our bed.”

Mark chuckled. “We don’t normally share a bed, Matt, or a room, for that matter.” They’d each taken their own rooms after their father’s death.

“You know what I mean.”

Mark was amused by the evening’s odd turn of events. Matt, always the clown, was suddenly too serious, while Mark couldn’t suppress his happiness long enough to curb the jokes. “I know what you mean. I think the term you’re looking for is ménage a trois. Or maybe you prefer threesome?”

Matt scowled. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m trying to be serious here.”

Mark sobered up. “I know that. And I am taking this seriously. There are a million reasons why this whole thing won’t work. I don’t give a shit about any of them. This is right. Picking it apart and studying it piece by piece isn’t going to change a damn thing. So, it looks like we just take this a day at a time, a step at a time, and hope for the best.”

Matt’s frown deepened. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

Mark laughed, then reached up to place a friendly hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I’m beat. What do you say we call it a night? It’s obvious Jake has convinced Rodney to stay in town for that damn moonlight bowling thing he loves so much.” It was well after midnight. The local alley held several special nights where they turned off the normal lights at midnight, casting the alley in nothing but black light. Jacob loved bowling in the glow-in-the-dark effect, laughing at how silly they all looked with their bright white shirts and gleaming teeth. Their kid brother had dragged them to the event more than a few times.

Mark reached for a blanket and covered Bridget up. “She looks so peaceful, I hate to move her.”

Matt agreed. “Let her stay. That couch is more comfortable than my bed. It’ll be late when Jake and Rodney get back. Jacob will probably put Rodney in the guest room when they see Bridget’s asleep.”

“Yeah.” Mark grinned. “I like the idea of her sleeping here.”

Matt put his hands in his pockets. “Be better if she was sleeping between us instead of alone out here.”

“We try that tonight and she won’t get much sleep. My cock is about to explode.”

Matt nodded sympathetically, then he gave Mark a wicked grin. “Yeah, mine too. But she’s too tired. She needs the rest. You know, it’s a shame I’m going to beat you to the cold shower.” As he said the last sentence, Matt took off down the hall, racing to the bathroom the two of them shared.

Mark laughed, but didn’t attempt to outrun him. Matt had too much of a head start. Instead, he bent down in front of the couch and ran his hand lightly through Bridget’s soft hair. God only knew what tomorrow would bring. If he was lucky—very lucky—he’d find a way to convince her to stay in Saratoga for a while.

Or forever.

Footsteps pounded behind her, coming closer in the darkness. Bridget tried to run faster, but she’d already run too far. Her chest was on fire, the pains in her side excruciating. She’d never manage to escape this time. He was too quick, too close. She’d nearly reached the main road. Hopefully she could wave down a car. Right now that was her only hope for escape. Headlights pierced the pitch black night. She was so close. If only…