Page 17 of Getting Off

Two weeks later…

Hands down, this had been the wildest couple of weeks of Dylan’s life.

Every moment Brooklyn wasn’t at the hospital or Dylan wasn’t on the track or Lucas wasn’t in some boardroom playing with investments, the three of them were together.

They’d gone to classy restaurants. Brooklyn had even managed to get him into a damn tux.

They’d gone to shows on the strip. They went to a movie where Lucas rented the entire theater just for them.

Meanwhile, Dylan had been teaching both of them the finer tricks of off-road racing.

Last weekend, they’d spent even more time at the club and his cabin.

The other racers had accepted Lucas, but they really took to Brooklyn. She was a club favorite.

Horny bastards , Dylan thought with a smirk as he was lying there on his bed. They’re lucky I’m not a jealous man .

But he had to admit, he had a lot for others to be jealous of. He turned his head and watched as a naked and beautiful Brooklyn rolled from her back to her belly and gave a languid stretch.

“I can safely say I’ve never used up an entire box of condoms in one weekend,” she said with one of those naughty grins he adored. “That’s a personal best.”

Dylan was sure that if she kept moving with that incredible dancer's grace, he was going to have to start digging to find more condoms.

The three of them were sprawled on the king-sized bed.

Several empty pizza boxes were stacked on the dresser.

It was pretty handy to have a man like Lucas around after all.

When normal delivery companies refused to come way out to the middle of the sticks to deliver a few pizzas, Lucas Fox quickly made them change their minds with a couple of added zeroes to the total and gigantic tips.

“Chinese,” Lucas announced suddenly. “What do you think about that? I know a great place that delivers.”

Brooklyn laughed and used her right foot to nudge Lucas’s bare ass. “Much as I hate to hide your cute butt, how about we put on clothes and go out again?”

Lucas reached over and stroked Brooklyn’s blonde hair. “You want to leave during our sexy weekend marathon? I’m not sure I want to let either of you out of my sight.”

“Well, not for good,” Brooklyn hedged. Something about her grin made Dylan feel like a million bucks.

He hadn’t seen any signs of the cold, clinical neurologist professional since the party he’d crashed.

She was full of smiles and laughter and so damned willing in bed that Dylan was already in love with her.

“But you know, we could go out and then come back here, and it would be like starting over again. You know, with the undressing and everything. I could maybe do a striptease. I was a dancer, remember.”

“You definitely have my attention,” Lucas said, those dark eyes intense.

Brooklyn scrambled upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “That’s it. It’s settled. We’re going out!”

“Can you deny her?” Lucas asked him in a voice filled with warm humor. “Because I can’t.”

Dylan was already getting out of bed. “I know a place. It’s not far. The food isn’t amazing, but it’s outside the city and caters to people passing through on their way to and from Vegas.” He shrugged. “Hey, it’s hot and there’s a lot.”

“Sounds good enough.” Lucas stretched and rose from the bed. At least Lucas wasn’t stuck up about food, needing five-star cuisine or something. The guy continually surprised him.

Seeing Dylan watching him, Lucas caught him around the waist and reeled him in for a light kiss. “Thank you, Dylan. Really. You have no idea how much these past couple of weeks have meant to me.”

Dylan and tossed him a salute. But he wondered if Lucas realized just how different things were going to be from now on. You could not have an experience like this without it changing you. One way or another.

“Okay, so who’s driving?” Brooklyn called from the front of the cabin. “I vote that Dylan drives.”

Dylan pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Hell, yeah! I’m still the best here. I’ll get us there in no time.”

Brooklyn narrowed her eyes with warning. “Just don’t wreck us rushing to get cheeseburgers.”

He put on an expression of mock outrage. “It’s not called wrecking. It’s called ‘unconventional driving.’”

Now she was glaring at him. “Is it too late to change my answer? Because I specifically remember treating you after you rolled your trophy truck, bucko.”

Lucas smirked. “She has you there, Dylan.”

He knew when he was beaten. He promised to keep all four wheels on the road and that seemed to placate her.

They were a motley crew as they hurried from the cabin and to Dylan’s crew cab pickup truck.

This was his street vehicle—Bubba was for off-road play, and his trophy truck was being repaired.

The pickup was about as workhorse as it got.

He always felt a moment’s hesitation, a sudden fear that this wasn’t a good enough ride for someone like Lucas Fox, whose flashy Bugatti drew plenty of attention parked in front of the clubhouse.

But Lucas and Brooklyn never said an unkind word about his truck as they piled in.

During the ride, the talk was comfortable and casual, as it always was between them. They lapsed into silence as the sunset colors began to light the indigo sky with swaths of bright orange and fiery pink.

Dylan felt more content than he ever had.

He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.

Something… An invisible aura that enveloped the three of them in a wonderful glow of companionship that felt so natural it was almost too good to be true.

Hell, listen to him. He sounded like he’d fallen head over heels… and maybe he had.

He didn’t know how this had all come together so quickly and perfectly over these last couple of weeks, but damn it all, he wasn’t going to give it up for any reason in the world.

Lucas lounged in the backseat of the truck, watching the sunset as the radio played.

He was idly thinking back over all that had happened.

He was also thinking about the next steps, planning and strategizing for the future.

He needed to understand how this would work if it really and truly became life .

This threesome. These two incredible people.

How could he protect it against all the challenges life would throw their way?

Especially Brooklyn. He felt very protective of her.

They had not talked of her lost brother since that first night together, but her words didn’t fade in his mind.

He wanted to be worthy of her trust, just as any good man would want to be worthy of the woman he loved.

And if this wasn’t love, it was damned close to it.

So much so that the lines had blurred in so very short a time.

His smartphone chimed. He pulled it out and glanced at it.

It was another voicemail message from Dr. Gibson, this one saying there had been significant developments in the head trauma center project.

He sighed and didn’t bother to listen to it.

He never should’ve given the guy his personal number.

That had been a mistake. The chief of staff had been pestering him with requests for funding for the trauma center almost non-stop.

He intended to fund it, but it was irritating being leaned on so hard.

Brooklyn glanced at him and saw him staring at his phone. “Anything important?”

“Dr. Gibson. Probably another request to meet about a platinum-tier donation.” He glanced at her.

“One question I’ve meant to follow up on.

Wouldn’t funding your hospital ER directly accomplish basically the same result as a new trauma center?

I mean, if ER had all the tools and personnel it needed.

That’s where you and Dylan met, correct? ”

“That’s right,” Brooklyn said. She turned sideways in the passenger seat so she could look back at him.

“When Dylan came in with a tagged injury—someone who had experienced a situation that often results in a higher instance of head trauma—they called me, and I went to have a look. But realistically, that only happens when I’m on duty or another specialist is available.

If there was an actual center, it would become part of the emergency room protocol.

Everyone who had a tagged injury would have immediate access to those specialist services and care.

Statistics have shown this lowers the number of post-concussion syndrome cases and increases the number of patients who go on to have little to no long-term effects. ”

Dylan tapped the steering wheel. “So, does this mean I’m past the danger point for head trauma?”

Brooklyn reached over and put a hand on his shoulder.

“This means even a neurologist has to realize that patients have to live their own lives. I just… I don’t want any other family to go through what my family did with Colin.

Part of this center would be about education.

I’m talking ads and having resources to visit schools and talk to kids.

If someone had told me that it would be possible for my brother to just die after that crash when I thought Colin was fine, we might’ve told our parents about the accident. It’s education and not only treatment.”

This was truly a calling that touched very close to home for her.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what she had gone through.

Losing someone close was always traumatic.

But a twin? Lucas had never had a brother, much less a twin.

“I think it’s amazing that you’ve taken a personal disaster and tried to make the world a better place because of it. ”