Page 14 of My Cowboy Trouble (The Cowboy Romantic Comedies #1)

"No?" Gavin moves closer from the other side. "Why not? Our rooms are so close. So convenient."

"It was a one-time thing," I insist, backing up until I hit the wall.

"Was it?" Trent asks, and suddenly he's there too, the three of them forming a semicircle around me. "Because one-time things don't usually leave marks."

His fingers brush the hickey on my neck, and I shiver.

"Or bruises," Asher adds, his hand ghosting over my hip where I know Gavin's handprint is.

"Or the kind of memories that keep us up all night," Gavin finishes, his voice low and rough .

"I need to unpack," I squeak, ducking under Asher's arm and practically running for the stairs.

"Want help?" they call in unison.

"No!"

But I can feel them watching me climb the stairs, and I definitely exaggerate the sway in my hips. Just a little.

I actually like the guest room—simple and clean, and it’s way bigger than what I have at home. Although I don’t know how we all fit in that bed last night. I’m trying to put the mess back together when Asher appears in the doorway.

"Yes?" I ask.

"I said I'd help." But instead of picking up the comforter off the floor, he heads to the bathroom. I see him picks up my face cream. "Face products always go on the second shelf."

"According to who?" I ask, joining him in the bathroom, where he moves closer to me.

"According to proper bathroom organization standards." He doesn't move away, his hands rearranging my stuff. "Haircare on top, face products second, body products third..."

"What do you know about beauty products? Don't tell me you use under-eye cream."

He shrugs. "I do not. But I do use sunscreen. So I think that makes me partially metrosexual. Ya know?"

I rummage through the makeup bag on the counter, anything to avoid looking at him. I shake my head. "A metrosexual cowboy. Now I've heard everything," I mumble.

His spots my birth control pills, dammit, and he chuckles against my neck. "These are very responsible of you."

"They're for cramps," I lie.

He bursts out laughing. "You know how many women claim their birth control pills are ‘just for cramps’?" he asks, using air quotes.

"Whatever. We are not having this conversation."

"We probably should, though." He turns me around, keeping me trapped against the counter. "If we're going to keep doing what we did last night."

"We're not going to keep anything. Last night was a one-time thing."

"You keep saying that." His hands grip the counter on either side of me. "But your body's saying something different. I can see your pulse racing. Your pupils are dilated. And if I touched you right now..."

Trent walks in, takes one look at us, and his expression darkens.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Yes," Asher says at the same time I say, "No!"

Trent steps into the bathroom, and the temperature rises. Or maybe it’s me. "Well guys, it looks like you're about to fuck against the bathroom counter right there."

"Ya know, just organizing," Asher says innocently, but he hasn't moved away .

"Is that what we're calling it?" Trent moves closer, and now I'm trapped between both of them.

"Guys—"

"Your room," Trent says, his eyes locked on mine. "Your rules. But you should know that if you start something with one of us again, we all want in. We talked about it this morning."

"You talked about me?"

"Extensively," Gavin says from the doorway, because apparently this is a party now. "Specifically about how good you taste and how we all want another turn."

"That's not—we can't just?—"

"Why not?" Trent asks, stepping even closer. "We're all adults. We all want each other. You're here for twenty-two more days. Why not make them count?"

"Because someone's going to get hurt," I whisper.

"Someone's already hurt," he says, his hand coming up to cup my face. "Might as well make it worth it."

Before I can respond, he kisses me. It's nothing like the desperate kisses from last night. This is slow, deliberate, a promise of things to come. When he pulls back, I'm breathing hard.

"Think about it," he says, then walks out like he didn't just scramble my brain.

"I call next," Gavin says, but Asher's already turning me around, capturing my mouth in a kiss that's all heat and demand.

When they finally leave me alone, I'm standing in my bathroom, lips swollen, body aching in old ways and new, wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into, and whether my bedroom door has a lock.

I can't sleep.

It's past midnight, the storm is still raging, and I've been lying in bed for two hours trying not to think about the fact that I'm surrounded by the three men who gave me the best night of my life.

Gavin's room is to my left—I can hear his TV playing something with explosions.

Asher's to my right, soft music drifting through the wall.

And Trent's across the hall, silent, but I know he's awake because I saw the light under his door.

Every time I close my eyes, I'm back in bed with all of them. Every time I shift positions, my body reminds me exactly what we did. And every time I think about tomorrow, about twenty-four more days of this proximity, this tension, this want, I feel like I'm going to combust.

I need water. Or food. Or maybe to go stand in the rain until my body stops feeling like a live wire.

I grab my phone for light and creep downstairs, trying to avoid the creaky step, and make it to the kitchen without waking anyone.

Except Gavin's already there, standing in front of the open fridge wearing nothing but boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination .

"Midnight snack?" he asks without turning around. "Or couldn't sleep because you're thinking about last night?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"I can smell your shampoo. Also, you're the only one who tries to avoid that step." He turns, holding a piece of pie. "Want some? Clara Mae's apple. She dropped it off yesterday as payment for fixing her fence."

"I'm not hungry."

"Liar." He holds out a fork with a bite of pie. "Come on, princess. You need to keep your strength up. Especially if we're going to have a repeat performance."

"We're not?—"

He pops the bite into my mouth while I'm talking, and damn, it's delicious.

"See? Sometimes it's good to just give in to what you want." He takes another bite, then offers me the fork again. "And we both know what you want."

"You're awfully confident for someone who?—"

"Who made you come three times last night? Yeah, I'm confident." He steps closer, backing me against the counter. "I'm also confident that you're standing here, sore in all the right places, trying to convince yourself that you don't want to do it again."

"Gavin—"

"Tell me I'm wrong." His hands come up to cage me against the counter, not touching but close enough that I can feel his heat. "Tell me you're not wet right now just thinking about it."

Asher appears in the doorway before I can answer, hair mussed from sleep, wearing pajama pants that hang dangerously low. "Are we having a party and nobody invited me?"

"Kenzie couldn't sleep," Gavin says, not moving away from me. "Because she's horny."

"I am not?—"

"Join the club," Asher says, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "I've been hard since this morning. Something about having her so close... I was about to rub one out but my appetite got the better of me."

Oh for christ’s sake.

"Don't let that porn subscription expire, brother," Gavin laughs. "But I hear you. Just knowing she's one door away, probably naked in that big bed?—"

"I'm wearing pajamas!"

"Now. But last night..." Asher moves to lean against the counter beside me. "Last night you were wearing nothing but us."

My face burns. "We're not talking about last night."

"Why not?" Gavin asks, finally stepping back but only to get more pie. "Best night of my life. Well, so far. I'm hoping for some competition."

The kitchen light flicks on, and we all freeze.

Trent's standing in the doorway, wearing low-slung sweatpants, looking at the three of us with an unreadable expression .

"It's three in the morning," he says.

"Couldn't sleep," I explain. "The storm?—"

"Is very loud," Gavin interrupts. "All that banging. Speaking of banging?—"

"Gavin," Trent warns, but he's moving into the kitchen, and I notice he's not exactly soft in those sweatpants either.

"What? We're all thinking it." Gavin takes another bite of pie. "We're all remembering how she sounds when she?—"

I grab the pie and take a huge bite so I don’t have to say anything.

"There's real food in the fridge if you're actually hungry," Trent says, his eyes tracking the fork I lick it clean.

"I'm fine," I saw after I swallow.

"You sure?" He steps closer, and suddenly the kitchen feels very small. "Because you look... hungry."

The way he says it makes it clear we're not talking about food.

"I'm not hungry," I insist, but my voice comes out breathy.

"Thirsty, then?" Asher suggests, and Gavin snorts.

"Very mature."

"Not trying to be mature," Gavin says. "Trying to seduce you back into bed."

"All of you?"

"All of us," Trent confirms, and the certainty in his voice makes my knees weak. "If you want. "

"This is insane. We can't just... every night..."

"Why not?" Asher asks. "What's stopping us?"

"Reality? The fact that I'm leaving? Basic common sense?"

"Fuck reality," Gavin says. "Fuck the timeline. And common sense is overrated."

"You would say that."

"He's not wrong though," Trent says quietly. "Twenty-two more days of this... or twenty-two days of pretending we don't want this. Which sounds better?"

I look at them—Gavin with his cocky grin, Asher with that calculating heat in his eyes, and Trent with his barely controlled intensity, and know I'm fighting a losing battle.

"I need to think," I say.

"Don't think," Trent says, stepping closer. "Just feel."

I roll my eyes. "Don't mock me. Besides, you told me last night you don't know how to just feel."

"You taught me." His hand comes up to cup my face. "Maybe we can teach each other things."

"This is going to end badly."

"Everything ends," Asher says. "Doesn't mean it's not worth doing."

"That's terrible logic."

"The best things usually are," Gavin adds.

I look at all three of them, feeling like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. "I should go to bed."

"Yes," Trent agrees. "You should."

"Alone," I clarify .

"If that's what you want," he says, but his thumb is stroking my cheekbone, and his eyes are saying something different.

"It is. For tonight."

"Just tonight?" Gavin asks hopefully.

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably not. Fuck, I don't know anything anymore."

"You know you want us," Asher says simply.

"Yeah," I admit. "I do."

"Then the rest is just details," Trent says, finally stepping back. "Go to bed, Kenzie. We'll be here when you figure it out."

I'm almost to my room when footsteps follow me up the stairs. All three of them, because apparently they travel as a pack now.

"Seriously?" I ask, turning to face them.

"You forgot this," Trent says, holding out my phone.

"Oh. Thanks." I reach for it, and our fingers brush. He doesn't let go immediately.

"Kenzie—"

"It's okay," I say quickly. "I get it. Last night happened. We all want it to happen again. But we should be smart about this."

"Since when are any of us smart about you?" Gavin asks .

"Since reality exists and I'm leaving in twenty-two days."

"Twenty-two and a half," Asher corrects. "But who's counting?"

"All of us, apparently."

We're standing in the hallway, me backed against my door, them arranged in front of me like some kind of cowboy wall of temptation ready to eat me alive.

"This is complicated," I say.

"Everything worth doing is," Trent says.

"That's not true. Lots of simple things are worth doing. Like... eating ice cream. Or watching movies. Or?—"

"Fucking all three of us until you can't remember your own name?" Gavin suggests.

"That's not simple!"

"It was last night," Asher points out. "Pretty straightforward, actually. You wanted us, we wanted you, everyone got what they wanted. Multiple times."

"That was different. That was... heat of the moment."

"And this?" Trent steps closer. "What's this?"

"This is... proximity and hormones and really bad decision-making skills."

"Sounds perfect," Gavin says.

"You would think that."

"We all think that," Trent corrects. "The question is, what do you think?"

I look at them—really look at them. Gavin with his easy confidence and quick grin.

Asher with his calculated charm and clever hands.

Trent with his intensity and unexpected tenderness.

Three completely different men who somehow work together perfectly.

Especially when they're working together on me.

"I think I'm in trouble," I admit.

"The best kind of trouble," Gavin agrees.

"The kind that leaves marks," Asher adds, his eyes on my neck.

"The kind that's worth it," Trent finishes.

"You guys rehearse this stuff?"

"Natural chemistry," Gavin says. "Speaking of chemistry?—"

"Goodnight," I say firmly, opening my door.

"Sweet dreams, princess," Gavin calls.

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," Asher adds. "That's our job."

Trent doesn't say anything, just watches me with those intense eyes that see too much.

I close the door and lean against it, my heart racing and my body aching for things I shouldn't want.

Through the door, I hear them talking in low voices.

"She'll cave," Gavin says confidently.

"Tomorrow," Asher agrees.

"Tonight," Trent corrects, and there's something in his voice that makes me shiver.

Their footsteps disperse to their respective rooms, and I'm left alone with my racing thoughts and a body that's basically screaming at me to open that door and invite them all in.

Twenty-two days.

That's either not enough time or way too much. I can’t decide.

I climb into bed, very aware of how empty it feels, and try not to think about how easy it would be to change that. Three doors, three men, infinite possibilities.

I'm so screwed.

And the worst part? I want to be. Repeatedly. By all of them.

God help me.

I jump back out of bed to go turn the lock on my door.