Page 25 of Craving Consequences

I’ve been in Lachlan’s truck dozens of times.

In the backseat with Bron usually and a mountain of things between us.

I don’t think I’ve been this close to either of them.

Ever. But I am being burned by them. Enclosed and suffocated.

I am so close to both, I can’t move without bumping shoulders, pressing thighs.

No one says a word as Lachlan puts the car in reverse. I barely notice that he must have pulled my car back into the garage and closed the door until my purse drops into my lap without a word.

“Thank you.”

“Sure.” Lachlan clears his throat and shifts his weight .

I wonder if he’s thinking about last night, too.

If he’s remembering holding me across the seat and lapping up my center with his tongue.

I’m too acutely aware of just how confined the space is and still we somehow made it work.

I took their cocks — most of it — and lost count of all the times they made me cum.

I shift unconsciously. A bad idea. Rather than unstick my panties from my lips, it bunches the fabric tighter in place.

Shoot!

“Uncomfortable?” Van drawls in a dark, amused ... knowing tone.

My thighs squirm, and I have to fight the urge to reach under and unglue the wedgie.

“I’m okay,” I lie.

Both men are watching me with two different, yet painfully similar expressions.

“Did we hurt you last night?” Lachlan asks, voice thick with all the things I can see him fighting behind his eyes.

I shake my head. “A little sore, but I’m okay.” I bunch my fingers into my purse. “Thank you.”

I can tell there’s a lot he wants to say but keeps stopping himself. Probably a good thing. I don’t even know if I want to talk about what we did.

He relents. His hand goes to the wheel without another word .

We start down my street and I’m relieved no one’s outside who could have seen us. Still, I don’t relax until Lachlan makes the first turn.

“Oh, before I forget.”

Lachlan slows the truck and reaches across my lap to pop open the glovebox. He pulls an envelope from inside and offers it to me.

It’s thin and light. Barely a feather in my fingers, and blank when I flip it over.

“What’s this?”

He pulls the truck back onto the road. “A check to cover Bron’s car and the trip to Cuba.”

My breath catches even as my head pivots up to his. “What? How did you...? No.” I try to shove it back at him. “I don’t want your money, Mr. Shaw.”

One big, callused palm sets over top of mine and gently nudges my hand back into my lap without ever taking his eyes off the road.

“It’s Lachlan, and it’s not mine. I pulled it from Bron’s inheritance. I’m the trustee on the account. He owes you more than that, but I pulled the biggest allowable amount without triggering an audit.”

I stare at the bomb he’s dropped into my lap and feel nothing but panic .

I clear my throat, attempting to act like an adult when I feel about ten. “I really appreciate this, but Bron will be furious if he finds out you took this out of his account.”

“That’s my problem.” He takes a careful turn down Chestnut Avenue.

“As trustee, I’m allowed to utilize the funds to pay for living expenses.

He borrowed money from you for an expense.

Judging from the substantial number of loans he’s asked of you in the last two years, this is just the tip of what he actually owes you, Everly.

” He darts me a side glance that is either annoyance or disappointment.

“I did not raise a child who doesn’t pay his debts. ”

Why do I feel shame for my part in this? I know I haven’t done anything wrong but holding that money — money I legitimately did not think I would ever see again — I can’t help the prickle of embarrassment skittering up the back of my neck.

“I just know he’s not going to be happy,” I reply, still not sure what I’m supposed to do with the envelope because I know Bron is going to lose his mind when he finds out I took money from him.

My money, granted. Bron was supposed to pay me back a year ago, but bringing the topic up only had him throwing a full temper tantrum of massive proportion that just wasn’t worth the headache.

“I’ll deal with him,” Lachlan says, interrupting my thoughts. “I’ll make sure he returns everything he borrowed. ”

I grimace to the very core of my soul.

Do I want that money back? Absolutely, but I also know this will be a shit storm once it reaches Bron. And definitely ruins my plans.

I try to think quickly, to puzzle together the destruction before it really falls apart in my hands.

“I know I have no right to ask after everything you did for me last night, but can you keep this quiet for a few days?”

I can feel Van’s eyes burning into the side of my face. I can see him studying me from the corner of my eyes, but I keep my attention fixed on the man casting me wary side-eyes.

“Any particular reason?”

I suck in a breath. “Just until after Lauren’s birthday party this weekend.”

We hit the stoplights at the corner of Chestnut and Windsor Way. It gives Lachlan full opportunity to pivot his head in my direction.

“You’re still throwing the party?”

Of course. My entire plan hinges on this weekend. It needs to happen, and it needs to happen in order.

“Yes,” I choke out.

He raises a hand and lightly scratches his chin.

Despite it being early summer, his skin is a warm sun-kissed gold from hours working outdoors.

His dark strands curl around the collar of his flannel and I know he’ll be sheering it short any day now — he calls it his summer cut.

I prefer this length. When it’s wild and unruly and falls over his brow.

Perfect for grabbing fistfuls to hold on to while. ..

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Lost in the hot ocean of my own fantasy, I’m not fast enough to look away when he turns his head and catches me staring. Probably with some drool running down my chin.

Our eyes lock for a heartbeat too long and I feel that click all the way down to my center. My heart jackhammers in my chest, a frantic patter that I’m sure everyone in Jefferson can hear.

But as quickly as it happened, he breaks the connection when the light changes and he has to merge with the flow of traffic, leaving me struggling to catch my breath.

I turn my head away to breathe, to calm the overwhelming waves only to find myself caught in pools of liquid silver. Eyes so deep, I’m drowning all over again only this time, I’m bombarded with images of them looking up at me while I cradled the thick cap of his cock in my channel.

The place in question pulses in awareness. A fierce pang that has my knees pulling together to soothe the ache.

“Why are you still having the party, Evie?” Van murmurs, breaking me out of my insanity.

Evie .

No one, not even my parents have ever called me Evie. I should hate it, but the sound of it, so soft and endearing rolling off his lips has my chest fluttering. So, I leave it. I let him be the only one.

I focus instead on his question. On the weight of it filling the cabin. I swallow audibly and look forward — the only safe place.

“It’s complicated.”

His fingers rough with years of working with his hands capture my chin.

It’s so unexpected, so out of place I’m not quick enough to react when I’m forced to stay captive to his gaze.

The pad of his thumb glides — I tell myself unintentionally — along the curve of my bottom lip, but my head is so fuzzy, I can’t be sure.

“Try me,” he presses, still refusing to set me free.

Oh, how I would love to try him. To undo my belt, climb into his lap like I had last night and do it all over again. But that’s not what he means.

“You’ll think less of me,” I partially tease.

“Never.” The immediate response holds no lie. No half truths. Simple. To the point.

I know I have to give them a good reason. Something that won’t raise red flags or have them try to talk me out of it. It can’t be so unrealistic they call me on my bullshit either .

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I whisper softly, options for emotions over logic. “I’m furious and hurt, but it’s bigger than me.”

“How so?”

That same thumb ghosts my cheek, warming the spot and sending tingles down my spine.

“I can confront them. Call them every name in the book. Tell them I never want to see them ever again. I can cancel the party, eat the cost and move on with my life, but it’s not that simple.

” I pause to draw in a breath. “By noon, every person in Jefferson will know what happened. I will become the girl who can’t hang on to her man.

The one who couldn’t satisfy him so he had to look elsewhere.

I’ll be ridiculed and torn apart. Made to feel like it was all my fault.

Meanwhile, Lauren will be crucified. They’ll call her a whore and a homewrecker.

She’ll lose her job and her clients. No woman wants someone capable of stealing their man to cut their hair.

Part of me thinks she deserves it, but it would fall down on you, too, Mr. .

.. Van. They’ll call you an unfit father who tried your best, but clearly should have listened when people told you, you needed a woman’s touch. ”

I hate that I have to hit reality home with hurtful truths, but it has to be stressed. He has to understand. I know I’m getting through to him when his jaw tenses and his eyes harden.

I push on .