Page 31

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M aggie closed her eyes in the bath, trying to relax.

But it felt like her body was on fire. Her nipples were hard, her clit throbbing incessantly.

All because of them.

The bastards.

The sweet, sexy bastards.

Getting into the bath had been interesting. Neither man would let her get in on her own, so she’d ended up stripping everything off except her top and letting Ian lift her into the bath.

Then, after he’d left the room, she’d stripped off completely.

At least he’d left. First, she’d had to promise she wouldn’t dare try to get out on her own before he’d go.

Now she lay there wishing she was brave enough to let go with them completely. She rubbed at the headache in her temples.

All her worries were getting on top of her and she needed a break. She shifted in the water and felt her clit throb again.

What would it hurt to give herself some release?

Jack had grumbled at her until she’d eaten half of her sandwich, his dark eyes worried and attentive.

Then there was Ian. Grouchy, bossy, and so darn strong.

She touched her nipple, letting out a sharp breath. That felt so good. Closing her eyes, she imagined it was Ian sucking on her nipple, pinching, then soothing the sharp pain with his tongue.

Meanwhile, Jack’s tongue would be against her clit. Oh, damn.

A knock on the door interrupted her.

Monkeyballs!

What was she doing? She couldn’t make herself come when they were on the other side of the door.

Such a knob.

“Yes?” Did she sound normal? Or like she’d just been touching herself. Her clit wasn’t happy about the aborted orgasm.

“Maggie, it’s time to get out,” Ian said. “It must be getting cold in there.”

“Um, yes. Okay! One minute. I need to put that T-shirt back on.” She wrinkled her nose as she attempted to pull on the wet T-shirt.

“I can get you out without looking,” he said. “Don’t put it on, it will be cold and horrible.”

It was.

“All right. But no peeking.”

Dear Lord.

As if he wanted to peek at her tiny boobs and nearly non-existent curves.

The door opened and he stepped in, his gaze averted.

“I’ll stand up and then you can just lift me out,” she said. “I’m sure I could do this myself.”

“You won’t stand up,” he barked. “You could slip. I’m going to lift you, then grab the towel.”

How was he going to do that without looking?

He came to the side of the big bath, his head turned to one side. Then he reached down to pick her up.

She assumed he was attempting to grasp her under her arms.

Only, he missed entirely and grabbed hold of her boobs. She let out a yelp and he withdrew his hands. His gaze turned to her, taking in her body with a heated gaze.

“Ian!” she cried, trying to cover herself.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered.

“I thought you could do this without looking at me!”

“I really didn’t mean to look.”

“Okay. It’s all right,” she reassured him.

“I’m not sure which of you is redder,” Jack drawled.

She gasped and looked over at where he was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, as he grinned in amusement.

“Jack!” they both said.

“What? I didn’t say I wouldn’t look.”

She glared at him.

“Fine,” Jack said. “I’ll get the towel. And I won’t look.”

“Let me try again,” Ian told her. “Reach up for me.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but grasped hold of his upper arms as he grabbed her under her arms, lifting her.

“There, see. I did it without looking.”

Jack quickly wrapped the towel around her. Then Ian picked her up, carrying her out to the bedroom.

“Wait! I need to dry off!”

“You can’t do that on your own,” Ian said gruffly. “You might fall.”

These guys were too much. But without protesting she let Jack kneel in front of her and use an extra towel to dry her feet and legs. Then he moved to her arms.

Standing, he grabbed an oversized T-shirt that looked like it belonged to him or Ian.

“Um, I have my own clothes, guys.”

“This will be more comfortable,” Jack replied before pulling it over her head. She had no choice but to put her arms in the sleeves. “Besides, I like you wearing me.” He winked at her as she groaned.

That was terrible.

But at least it was a more Jack-like answer. Which set her at ease.

She didn’t miss intense Jack.

Nope. not at all.

Hmm. Denial had always been one of her biggest flaws.

“Is Uncle Willy all right?” she asked, trying to get her mind off ‘wearing Jack.’

What would it be like to feel his naked skin against hers?

“I just checked on him before,” Ian said. “He’s sleeping. We got him a monitor too. The nurse will be here soon.” He set her in the middle of the bed, then picked up what looked like a baby monitor from the bedside table.

She eyed it suspiciously. “I’m not a baby.”

“No one said you were,” Jack replied easily as he settled in front of her and proceeded to slip some fluffy socks on her feet.

Where had he gotten those from?

They were bright yellow and so darn cheerful. Definitely not something she would buy.

And yet you’re not telling him to take them off . . .

Only because she had cold feet.

“It’s just a tool we can use to look after you,” Ian said in a suspiciously casual voice.

Yeah. She just bet it was.

“Want to see what else we got you?” Jack asked, bouncing slightly on the bed.

“Jack, her hip.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Are you all right?” Jack asked.

“I’m fine. My hip isn’t that bad.”

“Here.” Jack grabbed a shoe box from the floor and handed it to her. She stared at what was written on the side.

“Oh my God. You guys didn’t.”

“Course we did,” Ian replied gruffly, looking uncomfortable. “And before you start protesting that it’s too much and you can’t accept?—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Jack added irreverently.

“We bought them on sale. No returns,” Ian told her.

“And if you don’t wear them, then Jameson will have to,” Jack said. “Since we’ll give them to him for his birthday next month.”

“Good plan,” Ian said in agreement.

They were so ridiculous that she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. But she couldn’t turn away the boots without at least looking at them.

Right?

That would just be rude.

And she might be ridiculous and a disappointment, but she was not rude.

Well, not today anyway.

Opening up the box, she almost swooned. They were shiny black. The leather was pristine and they had that new shoe smell.

“They’re perfect.”

“Do you want to try them on?” Ian asked

“More than anything.” But she put them back in the box. “I can’t accept them, though.”

“Do you want them?” Jack asked, lying alongside her.

Lord, he looked gorgeous like this. What would it be like to wake up to that smile every morning?

Her mouth went dry at the thought.

“Of course I do. They’re gorgeous. But I know how much they cost. It’s too much.”

“I guess Jameson is getting them for his birthday, then.” Ian took the box with a shrug. “It’s a shame. They’re more you than him.”

“That’s because they’re women’s boots!”

“Nah,” Jack said. “That’s not it. Pretty sure he’s worn women’s boots before.”

“He has not!” She giggled at their foolishness. “You can’t regift them to him for his birthday. That’s not nice.”

“Last year, for my birthday, he got me therapy session vouchers to help me get in touch with my inner emotions,” Ian told her.

“They have vouchers for that?” she asked.

“Apparently.”

“I got a calendar with all these inspirational sayings, like: People who do not succeed should never try bungee jumping.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“What? What does that mean?” she asked with a giggle.

“God knows,” Ian said.

“Pretty sure it was a death threat,” Jack added.

She broke into more laughter. “Those are terrible gifts.”

“He’s the worst. One Christmas, he got me laxatives because he said I’m always complaining that I eat too much on Christmas day,” Jack moaned.

“Oh my God.” Tears ran down her face as she laughed. She wiped them away.

“These boots actually seem too nice to give him,” Ian said. “But if you don’t want them . . .”

“No! Mine!” She lunged for them, pain shooting down her hip.

“Careful!” Jack drew her gently back while Ian gave her the box.

She hugged it to her chest even as embarrassment filled her. “Um, sorry. I don’t share very well. I think it’s because I was always given my sister’s hand-me-downs. From her clothes to her toys. They were always hers. Never mine. And I really didn’t mean to blurt that all out. I’ve got to learn to filter myself.”

“Why start now?” Ian said seriously.

“Rude,” she muttered. But she was grinning. “Are you sure you want to give me these? I know they cost a lot.”

“Think of it as an apology for the way I talked to you when you first arrived. I know I was a bit . . . bossy.” Ian sat on the bed, facing her. There was a soft look on his face.

“Um, newsflash, you haven’t changed,” she told him, barely holding back her grin as he gave her a shocked look.

Then she could no longer hold it and a giggle escaped.

“Brat,” he muttered.

She honestly couldn’t remember the last time that she’d laughed this much.

“And it’s not an apology from me since I’m not a jerk,” Jack told her. “I’m the nice one.”

Ian gaped at him. “The nice one? You?”

“Yep. Aren’t I, baby girl?”

“Hmm. Sometimes you can be nice. And sometimes you can be . . . intense.”

Something simmered in his gaze. Hot and watchful. She sucked in a breath.

Then he smiled and it disappeared.

But she’d seen it. And she couldn’t unsee it.

“Are you sure?” she asked, even as she hugged the box against her chest.

“You’re keeping the boots, Little Misfit,” Ian told her firmly. “No arguments.”

She could point out how bossy he was being right now. But since he was telling her what she wanted to hear, she decided to be magnanimous and ignore it.

“Besides, they’d have to pry these boots from my dead hands,” she muttered.

Jack snorted as Ian shook his head.

“Um. I said that out loud, huh?” She gave them both a wide grin. “Oops.”

“What are we going to do with you, Little girl?” Ian sighed.

Hug me. Love me. Keep me forever.

Shit. Had she said that out loud?

She eyed them both. Nope. She thought she was safe.

“I really wish I knew what you were thinking right now,” Jack murmured.

“You don’t. I’m a mess.”

“I don’t like you saying that.” Ian frowned at her. “You are so lucky you’re not ours.”

She had to hide her flinch.

“Every time you say something bad about yourself, my hand wants to smack your ass,” Ian told her.

“Really? Your hand has a mind of its own? That’s a tad disturbing . . . or is your hand like Thing? I’ve always loved Thing.”

“You loved a severed hand with a mind of its own?” Jack asked.

“It wasn’t severed. It was without a body. It was bodyless. A bodyless hand. Like you’d say a handless body.”

It made sense in her head.

“Maybe we should move to the other gifts,” Ian said. “Before I have nightmares tonight of severed hands.”

Yeah. Good plan.

Wait. More gifts?

“Why did you buy me more gifts?” she asked.

“We thought you might need things to do,” Ian explained. “Since you’re bed bound.”

She huffed out a breath. “Jameson didn’t say I had to be bed bound. I just need to rest.”

“You need sleep, have less stress, to eat more, and you must stay off that hip.” Ian ticked things off on his fingers.

“Is it too much to ask that you have a memory lapse?” she muttered.

“You wish,” Ian replied. “Next bag.”

She was almost scared to look in the bag. Then she noticed the logo on the front.

“Is this from the toy store?” she asked Jack.

“Yep.”

Okay, now she was definitely too scared to open it. “I can’t.”

“You don’t have to,” Ian told her gently. “But Jack told me about your trip to the play area. How much fun you had. It sounds like that was the first time since you arrived that you truly had fun and relaxed. That’s all we want, Little Misfit. To give you some respite from everything. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but I have the urge to make you smile.”

“And you think this will?”

Jack shrugged. “Open it and see.”

She drew out the items in the bag. Her heart raced. Inside, there was the cutest little outfits. A black jacket and jeans and shoes.

“For Ziggy,” Jack told her. “Hopefully, they’re all in his size. Although if he doesn’t want them . . .” He picked them up and she grabbed them back.

“No snatching, Little girl,” Ian told her firmly.

“Sorry, Daddy.”

Monkeyballs!