Page 45 of Three Bossy Boyfriends (Honeysuckle Harbor #3)

Finley

“You’re a playlist bully,” I tell Fiona when she skips a song I’m singing for the third time.

The words are said without malice, though. Yes, it’s annoying that she keeps choosing to cut short my vocal concert, but I’m having fun with my sisters as the three of us all get ready to go out for the night on dates.

“I can’t help it. It’s a patience thing, nothing against your music in particular. Ask Frannie. I just can’t listen to an entire song when I’m amped up.”

“It’s true,” Frannie chimes in, tossing yet another sweater out of her closet and onto the bed, which is already piled high with clothes deemed not worthy of date night with Hunter. “Fi only has about thirty seconds in her before she has to jump to the next song.”

“That shows an appalling lack of appreciation for lyrics.”

“I just need a good beat when I’m vibing.

” Fiona is in her bra and panties, sitting at her vanity table and doing a makeup regime that looks complicated and terrifying.

She has her hair bound up in something that makes it look like a unicorn horn jutting from her hairline, and she’s been dabbing and blending and brushing for a solid ten minutes.

“How are you going to get dressed without smudging your makeup?” I ask, genuinely curious. I’m not necessarily a fresh-faced girl, but my makeup routine is pretty simple. I haven’t done contouring or worn false lashes since a New Year’s Eve trip to Vegas with some friends two years ago.

“I’m wearing a dress that I am stepping into. Kyle and I are going to a restaurant in Charleston that doesn’t have prices on its menu. This is not a cropped sweater and jeans kind of place.”

“Whose idea was that?” I ask, looking down at my own fashionably torn jeans, cropped sweater, and black and white sneakers.

Should I be dressing nicer for dinner? But the guys and I are just meeting at Christopher’s, not going out.

I assumed dinner at home meant casual dress.

The cropped sweater is loose at the hem and is a strategic choice to give any or all of them the opportunity to slide a big hand under it and get the party started post-dessert.

“Kyle’s. She thinks I’m a foodie.”

“You are a foodie,” Frannie says, tossing yet another shirt with a look of pure disgust. “Why are all my clothes so boring?”

Frannie’s clothes do tend to land solidly in basic bitch territory, and there’s nothing wrong with that. She’s been dating Hunter for months, so I’m surprised by her obvious date-night anxiety. “You can borrow anything of mine,” I tell her. “But why are you stressing? Hunter loves you.”

“Hunter has never said he loves me,” she confesses in a rush of words. “I told him I loved him in a text, and he didn’t respond to it. He just said, ‘See ya tonight.’ I totally blew it!”

With that, she flings herself down on her bed on top of a zillion articles of clothing and pounds her fists, kicks her feet, and shrieks into a prairie dress.

Alarmed, and filled with so much happiness over my own dating life, I immediately try to reassure her. “Sweetie, that doesn’t mean anything. It could just mean that he wants to say it to you in person for the first time, not in a text.”

“Which is what I should have done!” she wails. She rolls over onto her back and swipes her hair out of her face. “I just blurted it out in a text because it felt natural to do that.”

She’s not crying, which I take as a good sign.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” I ask.

“We’re going to a movie and then to his place.”

“Oh God, you have to sit through a whole movie worrying about dropping the L word?” Fiona asks. “That sounds horrible.”

“Not helpful,” Frannie mumbles.

It’s really not.

I plop down on the bed beside Frannie and squeeze her thigh. “If you’re in love with Hunter, you should be able to talk to him about that. I think you should mention it when he picks you up and just communicate.”

“I know you’re right, but it’s scary.”

“Love is scary. But it’s also really damn amazing.”

I should know.

I’ve been wandering around Honeysuckle Harbor with a shit-eating grin on my face since my night with Tucker, Evan, and Christopher.

Is it complicated?

Yes—very complicated when you have four adults all in varying stages of a relationship with each other, trying to sort out how to date.

I know we have to communicate. It’s the only way to make sure everyone is getting what they need.

But aside from little details that need to be ironed out?

I’m really fucking happy. I get to be with all of them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love,” Fiona says.

Her words are mumbled because she has her lips pursed as she glues lashes onto her eyelids.

“I haven’t until now,” Frannie says. She props herself up on her elbows and sighs. “Finley’s right. It is amazing. But only if he feels the same way.”

“Are you in love, Finley?” Fiona asks me in the mirror.

I nod because my heart feels too damn full to speak.

“Honestly, I’m so happy right now, it’s just…

awesome. Dad and Charles basically created a job for me at the firm, and I don’t even care that it’s nepotism because I know I’ll be able to create a positive environmental impact on this whole region.

I’m grateful to be able to spend more time with both of you.

I feel loved with you two, by the family, by certain very sexy men in my life…

I feel like I belong here in Honeysuckle Harbor. I feel like I get to have it all.”

Not that any of the guys have actually declared their love for me. Other than Tucker at Swanson’s on the mic, but that was him goofing around. Yet I’m not worried about it. The words will come when everyone is ready. I can feel that they care about me, love me, want me to be happy.

I feel like they allow me to be both vulnerable and selfish at the same time. In a positive way, not a negative way. They all love me in their various ways, and we’re going to build a future together.

It’s my turn to kick my feet, but mine is from excitement. A very bouncy, upbeat song comes on. “Don’t you dare skip this. I need to dance.” I get up and start swinging my arms and hips to the beat. “Come on, Frannie.” I pull her by the wrists off of the bed. “Dance it out.”

That earns a smile from Frannie and she starts dancing with me.

Fiona jumps up, one lash on and one off, to dance with us in her underwear. We’re all laughing and smiling.

“This is like high school all over again,” Frannie says. “Clothes, makeup, dancing, boys.”

“Except now it’s a girl for me,” Fiona grins.

“If you fall in love with Kyle, and wind up together you can’t ever hurt her,” I warn. “I like having her as a friend. It’s hard for me to make female friends, and I don’t want you blowing it for me.” I’m only half-joking.

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Fiona puts her hands on her hips. “Maybe she’ll hurt me. Then what?”

“Then I’ll cut her off and curse her forever. You are my sister, after all.”

“Right answer.” Fiona grins.

“How about no one hurts anyone and we all live happily ever after?” Frannie asks.

“Best idea ever!” Fiona says, giving her a fist bump.

“Ah, our sweet little Pollyanna.” I give Frannie a one-armed side hug. “I love you, Fran. And Hunter loves you. How could he not? And for the record, I agree. We all deserve happiness, and we’re absolutely getting it.”

“I’d be happier if I could change the song,” Fiona says with a grin.

“I’d be happier if you put your other eyelash on. You’re freaking me out with just one eye done.”

“I’d be happier if I had a single decent thing to wear.”

“I’m sure Hunter likes you best naked,” I tell Frannie.

My sweet sister blushes. She actually blushes.

That makes me grin. “Just pick a sweater at random and go get him, girl.”

“What time is it, anyway?” Fiona asks, stopping dancing to go look at her phone. “Oh, damn, it’s almost seven! I’m supposed to meet Kyle at seven-thirty.”

“Shoot, I’m late too!” Frannie grabs a sweater and yanks it on over her head. “Hunter will be here any minute.”

“I need to go too. Thanks for letting me borrow your car, Frannie.” Since I’m dressed and ready to go, I blow them both kisses and dash for the door.

“Keys are in the kitchen,” Frannie says. “Have fun.”

“I plan to have three men doing dirty things to me, so yes, I will have fun.”

Evan has all but moved into Christopher’s place, or at least is spending a lot of time there, so we’re meeting there tonight. Tucker was on the other side of town, so he’s going straight to Christopher’s instead of coming all the way back to Honeysuckle Harbor.

I haven’t seen Tucker and Evan since the morning after our night together, and I’m anxious to be with them. Seeing Christopher at work is great, but torturous at the same time.

Having to pretend like we haven’t been naked together is hugely distracting, but at the same time, I enjoy our developing friendship and the mentorship he provides me at work.

Of course, I’ve gotten texts from Tucker and Evan, but I’m excited to see them both. Together. All of us.

After the short drive, I park and pick up my phone. I have separate texts from all three of them wondering where I am because I’m three minutes late.

It’s very sweet.

But we also need to talk about starting a group text thread because I don’t plan on repeating myself three times all the time.

Since the texts are only minutes old, I ignore them and instead go up the walkway and knock on the door.

Then, I decide to check the knob to see if the door is unlocked because that seems like something Christopher would do—unlock the door for me so I don’t have to stand on the stoop waiting for him.

I’m right. The door is unlocked.

The minute I step into the house, smiling in anticipation, I pause in the middle of closing the door behind me.

The guys are sitting in the living room just a few feet away, and their body language is off. All have serious expressions on their faces and have stern postures.

“Either I’m getting fired or Tucker is getting sued again.” I mean it as a joke, but no one laughs. “Seriously, what’s up?”

“We’re just sorting things out,” Christopher says, standing up.

“Sorting out what?” I let him kiss my cheek, but now I’m suspicious.

“We’ve made up a contract for our relationship.”

My jaw just about drops to the floor. “Excuse me? You’d better not be serious.”