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Sadie laughed. “The taxi route was always my backup. Lorelie warned me when we got here that she didn’t see her dad going the distance. He couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Yeah,” Joel said. “She told us this morning. He’s chomping at the bit to get back to work and depressed that Ty hasn’t cleared him to do it yet.” Tyson Sparks was the local doctor as well as one of Coach’s former football players from way back when. “I suspected she’d get him out of here early. She worries about him getting too tired.”

Sadie appreciated Lorelie’s concerns. Like her, Sadie only had her dad left, and while they butted heads on a daily basis, Sadie didn’t want to consider what life would be like without him.

Oakley finished his beer. “You mind sharing your cab with us? We can get the driver to drop you off at your apartment, then take us out to the ranch.”

“We’ll see,” she said noncommittally. The idea of sharing the backseat of a taxi with the two muscular, sexy-as-fuck cowboys currently sporting their Sunday best would be too damn much for her champagne-induced horniness. Damn wine never failed to trigger some dirty, dirty needs in her. “I haven’t discounted the possibility of a hookup yet.”

Oakley laughed.

Joel didn’t. In fact, his typically gentle smile faded as he leaned closer. “You don’t want to go home with any of these yahoos. Shit. I wouldn’t let you go home with them.”

If she hadn’t been so taken aback by his outright possessiveness, she would have raked him over the coals. Instead, she found herself incredibly turned on by his sudden dominant stance and dark tone. Her nipples budded and her pussy clenched.

Fucking champagne.

Oakley stopped laughing, clearly as shocked by Joel’s comment as she was. The silence hovered for one beat too long as Sadie waited for the punch line. It didn’t come.

“You wouldn’t let me?” she asked when she finally found her voice.

He shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with this, Sadie. Sick of watching you take guys to your bed who don’t deserve you. Who won’t treat you right.”

“So, what’s your solution, hotshot? I’m just supposed to be chaste for the rest of my life? Because I can tell you right now, I am not?—”

“No,” Joel cut her off. “You take me up on my offer to go out on a date.”

“What about my offer?” Oakley asked. “Or do I fall into that yahoo category?” There was no heat behind Oakley’s question. Yet.

Sadie’s chest tightened. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid by rejecting their invitations.

“You’re cool, Oak.” Joel turned to look at her. “You have two decent guys standing right in front of you, Sadie. Why don’t you stop messing around with losers and just pick one of us? You know we’re both crazy about you.”

If only it were that easy.

“I’ve told you a million times before. I’m not going to come between you two.”

“What if we promise to accept your choice? No sore losers. I know I’d sure as hell rather see you with Oakley than any of the other guys around here.”

Sadie didn’t doubt for a minute Joel was sincere. But it didn’t matter. He was forcing her hand. Forcing her to say something she’d so far managed to keep secret.

She wasn’t rejecting them simply to protect their friendship. She was staying away because the truth was she couldn’t choose. She was completely attracted to both of them. It would be like trying to decide between sour cream or bacon on her baked potato. Who the hell wanted one and not the other? She was a glutton—always ordering extra of both.

But there was no way in hell she’d tell the cocky bastards she was hot for them. With that knowledge, they’d probably double their efforts, her weak ass would succumb to one—or both—which would cause them to get into a fight and then she’d have that damn bad karma thing to deal with.

So, like a true coward, she dodged the issue entirely. “Actually, I don’t think sex or dating or anything else is on the table for me tonight. This champagne is giving me a wicked headache. I might go ahead and get a cab. You guys can stick around and take your own chances with the crop of carbon-copy blonde beauties who’ve been batting their eyes at you all night.”

Oakley laughed. “No thanks. We prefer our women with purple hair, tattoos, and pierced noses.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d added the neon purple streak to her auburn hair as a lark because it matched the dress she was wearing to the wedding, but she kind of liked it. She was considering keeping it for a while. “Nice try. I’m still going home.”

Joel nodded. “I’m done too. How about you, Oak?”

Oakley agreed he was getting tired, so Joel called for a cab. So much for her great escape. She may have managed to shut down the dating conversation, but she was still going to have to survive the ride to her place with Joel and Oakley’s strong legs pressed against hers. Truth was, her morality was paper-thin and not up for that kind of test.

Neither man pressed her for an answer in terms of who she wanted to date. Thank God. So instead they continued to watch the dancers as they waited for the cab. The crowd had thinned a bit, as the older attendees had already taken their leave.

What was left was the hardcore, came to the wedding to get wasted and dance until I drop contingency. The playlist had drifted away from the old standards meant to get Grandma on the dance floor, to the younger bump-and-grind beats meant to get the rest of the group laid.