Page 31
Story: Three Grumpy Groomsmen
Which, let’s face it, makes this place perfect for this road trip.
CHAPTER 8
Liam
What fresh hell is this?
Not only have I spent the entire day driving through the middle of nowhere with the woman I love and the man I’m stupidly attracted to, but now Ivy wants to enter my idea of the seventh circle of hell—a country dive bar.
“We do need to eat,” Ford says from the back seat. “I love barbeque.”
Ivy beams at him. “Thank you, Ford.”
Not only is Harrison driving me insane and I’m worried about Ivy, but when the hell did Ford become Ivy’s yes man? I don’t like the way he’s been looking at her all day. Like he wants to cuddle her and then fuck her. Or fuck her, then cuddle her.
Even worse, she keeps giving him soft smiles whenever they make eye contact.
I regret staying in the separate motel last night.
But my bank account is already screaming at me and I couldn’t resist poking at Harrison. He brings out my competitive side. Or some might argue my petty side. Yet now I’m fixating on the fact that maybe something went down between Ford and Ivy—like him between her thighs.
She would tell me, though.
I think.
She usually tells me everything.
Now I’m in my head and there’s no choice but to open the car door. “I’m in.” A bargain dinner will be easy on the wallet too.
Harrison steps out of the car. “My God, it’s a thousand degrees here. I need a cold beer the size of my head.”
That might be the most he’s said since this morning. He slept half of the drive, which makes me curious what he was doing last night. He doesn’t have the look of a man who went to bed alone at ten p.m.
Not that I care who he went to bed with.
Harrison stretches, his T-shirt pulling up and tight across his chest, revealing the hard pecs that I thoroughly enjoyed running my hands over when he was naked…
Fuck. I do care who he goes to bed with.
I want it to be me again, because while we might bicker nonstop when our clothes are on, when we were together that night, not only did we get along, it was electric between us.
Which makes his behavior the next day and every day since even more annoying.
I’m determined to despise him, no matter how fucking hot he is.
As we cross the parking lot, I move in step beside Ivy. I put my hand on her shoulder and give a light squeeze. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. I slept really well.”
Because Ford gave her an orgasm?
The thought pops in and I can’t get rid of it.
“That’s good to hear.”
I slept horribly.
I tossed and turned and alternated between visualizing Ivy’s expression when Ford told her Brad was a no-show andHarrison naked. Neither was relaxing. So I waffled between worried and turned on all night long until I finally dozed off and had a dream where I was having sex withbothIvy and Harrison. At the same time.
CHAPTER 8
Liam
What fresh hell is this?
Not only have I spent the entire day driving through the middle of nowhere with the woman I love and the man I’m stupidly attracted to, but now Ivy wants to enter my idea of the seventh circle of hell—a country dive bar.
“We do need to eat,” Ford says from the back seat. “I love barbeque.”
Ivy beams at him. “Thank you, Ford.”
Not only is Harrison driving me insane and I’m worried about Ivy, but when the hell did Ford become Ivy’s yes man? I don’t like the way he’s been looking at her all day. Like he wants to cuddle her and then fuck her. Or fuck her, then cuddle her.
Even worse, she keeps giving him soft smiles whenever they make eye contact.
I regret staying in the separate motel last night.
But my bank account is already screaming at me and I couldn’t resist poking at Harrison. He brings out my competitive side. Or some might argue my petty side. Yet now I’m fixating on the fact that maybe something went down between Ford and Ivy—like him between her thighs.
She would tell me, though.
I think.
She usually tells me everything.
Now I’m in my head and there’s no choice but to open the car door. “I’m in.” A bargain dinner will be easy on the wallet too.
Harrison steps out of the car. “My God, it’s a thousand degrees here. I need a cold beer the size of my head.”
That might be the most he’s said since this morning. He slept half of the drive, which makes me curious what he was doing last night. He doesn’t have the look of a man who went to bed alone at ten p.m.
Not that I care who he went to bed with.
Harrison stretches, his T-shirt pulling up and tight across his chest, revealing the hard pecs that I thoroughly enjoyed running my hands over when he was naked…
Fuck. I do care who he goes to bed with.
I want it to be me again, because while we might bicker nonstop when our clothes are on, when we were together that night, not only did we get along, it was electric between us.
Which makes his behavior the next day and every day since even more annoying.
I’m determined to despise him, no matter how fucking hot he is.
As we cross the parking lot, I move in step beside Ivy. I put my hand on her shoulder and give a light squeeze. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. I slept really well.”
Because Ford gave her an orgasm?
The thought pops in and I can’t get rid of it.
“That’s good to hear.”
I slept horribly.
I tossed and turned and alternated between visualizing Ivy’s expression when Ford told her Brad was a no-show andHarrison naked. Neither was relaxing. So I waffled between worried and turned on all night long until I finally dozed off and had a dream where I was having sex withbothIvy and Harrison. At the same time.
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