Page 46 of Three Bossy Boyfriends (Honeysuckle Harbor #3)

Christopher

Uh-oh. Finley looks annoyed.

This is not the reaction I was expecting twenty seconds after her walking through my front door.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her. “Come here, sit down, and let’s talk.”

I try to reach for her hand, but she pulls away.

Evan and Tucker have both leaped to their feet, but she puts her hand out to stop them from approaching her. She looks from Tucker to Evan to me. “Whose idea was this?”

“Uh…” Tucker looks like he has no idea what the right answer is to that.

“I think Tucker and I came to this conclusion together,” Evan says. “Then we looped in Christopher, who thought it might be a good idea to put it all out on paper for us.”

Finley shakes her head slowly, pursing her lips together.

She stays silent, which, from Finley, is more concerning than a tirade of angry words. That either means she’s thinking very hard or she’s afraid if she opens her mouth things will come out that she doesn’t want to say.

“Come sit down,” Tucker says. “Let’s talk.”

“I thought we were having a date night,” she says, and it’s definitely accusatory. “You know, food and fucking.”

“It is a date night,” Evan reassures her. “We just felt like we needed to iron out how we all date before we go any further.”

“Go any further? I feel like we’ve already gone there.” Finley brushes past me and flops onto the sofa. She yanks the contract off of the coffee table.

As she scans it, Evan and I exchange concerned looks.

“Finley. Talk to me,” Tucker says. “What are you thinking?”

“What I’m thinking, Tucker Hastings, is that you and Evan went and had a full-blown discussion about me and my future—our future—without including me. Then you “looped in” Christopher to put a lawyer polish on it like this is some kind of impersonal transaction.”

That has alarm bells ringing immediately. “Let’s just take a beat here.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tucker says. “There is nothing impersonal or transactional about this, Finley. For fuck’s sake, just hear us out.”

Instead, Finley lifts the contract and jabs her finger onto the paper. “There will be no quad cohabitation. That doesn’t sound fucking impersonal to you?”

This might be my fault. “I’m sorry if it sounds impersonal. I didn’t mean it that way. I was striving for clarity.” I smile at her. “I am a lawyer after all.”

“So am I. Almost. And I would never insult you with a piece of paper that diminishes our relationship to a phrase like ‘quad cohabitation.’”

That makes me wince. “I’m really sorry, Finley. That wasn’t my intention. That wasn’t any of our intentions. Let’s start over. None of us have done this before.”

“Yes, let’s start over because this feels like an ambush.”

I consider myself a great negotiator, but truth be told, Evan is better at relating to clients. While being treated like a client is the exact opposite of what Finley wants—and she’s right, I shouldn’t treat her that way—I figure Evan is a good bet to take over from here.

Fortunately, he doesn’t need me to even cue him in. He’s already reaching across the coffee table and picking up the contract. He tears it in half very calmly. “There. Gone. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“Let’s start from when you all decided to meet behind my back and outline my future with bullet points.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Fucking bullet points.”

This is Finley in full brat mode. She has every right to be upset. Which would have been helpful to realize an hour ago. But at the same time, now that I realize she’s willing to hear us out, I’m half fighting a grin.

God, this woman is sexy when she’s being a brat.

Tucker must agree because he sits down beside her, puts his arm around her neck, and kisses the side of her head. “Good girl,” he tells her.

I expect her to instantly get pissy, but she doesn’t. She does wrinkle her nose, but she says, “You can talk first, Tucker.”

“I reached out to Evan because the other night there was talk about rules and how this has to work, and I had…questions. Maybe even some concerns.”

“Go on.”

“The thing is, I want you to be happy, Finley. I want you to have all of your needs met. That’s important to me. But…”

“But you can’t see yourself doing this long term.”

Her voice is flat, and her arms are still across her chest.

“It’s not that I can’t see this.” He points between her and him. “I can’t see all of us. Not living together, having kids, being in a permanent relationship. I wanted to make sure that there weren’t any assumptions that’s the direction we’re going in.”

Finley sits silent for a few seconds.

I’m trying to assess what she’s thinking, how she’s feeling. What comes out of my mouth is, “Can I get you a drink? Some wine? Club soda?”

It feels much more polite and inane than I intend. I was thinking more along the lines of, “ We could have some wine to relax, take the tension down a notch .”

But Finley just says, “I’m fine.” She looks at Tucker. “There’s a whole lot of assumptions being made here.”

“That’s what we were trying to avoid.”

“Without including me.”

“It wasn’t meant to exclude you. It was meant to get on the same page.”

Finley turns to Evan. “What do you want? Since everyone seems to think this has gone beyond us just having fun. Or is concerned it’s gone beyond fun. What is it that you want, Evan?”

Evan looks taken aback to be put on the spot, and while he normally doesn’t fumble with his words, he does a little here. “I want you and Christopher and Tucker to be comfortable.”

Whatever she’s looking for, that isn’t it.

“And you?” She levels a steady gaze at me. Her words are calm, but there’s fire in her eyes.

I’m still standing, and it feels too aggressive, so I take a seat in a club chair on the opposite side of the coffee table from her. “I want to make sure everyone’s needs are met.”

I’m trying to be cautious, tread lightly. Trying really damn hard to read her, but I’m not getting anything. She just looks annoyed, and I’m not sure what the right fucking thing to do here is. “Tell me what you want.”

“I think what I want is to go home. This is honestly a mood killer.”

That alarms me. “You don’t have to go home. Let’s have dinner and just relax.”

Evan takes a deep breath. “Let’s just see where the night goes.”

“See, that’s the problem. Now you want to see where the night goes. But you didn’t want to just see how this relationship, or relationships, could evolve naturally. This went from flirty and fun and filled with possibilities to structured and decisive and…contractual.”

Fuck.

I never should have drawn up a contract. But people do it all the time when they’re entering relationships. Pre-nups, kink contracts.

“Obviously, we should have consulted you, but that’s what tonight was intended to be.”

Finley makes a sound of exasperation. “I don’t want to be consulted. I just want to be with all of you. I want…passion and love . A big, demanding, all-consuming love.”

I understand what she’s saying. I feel that for Evan. With Evan.

But my role in this relationship is not that for her. I care about Finley. I respect her, admire her, yes, even probably love her. But I’m not her person .

That’s Tucker.

Possibly even Evan. God knows he loves her. He’s said it. I see it.

Yet I can’t speak for them.

“I do love you, Finley,” Evan says gruffly.

“This is literally the worst possible time to tell me that,” she says, shooting a hot glare in Evan’s direction.

“The bottom line for me,” Tucker says, running his hands through his hair, “is that I don’t want to commit myself to a foursome. I’m not there. I might never be there. So it’s what we’ve outlined, or it’s nothing.”

His jaw is set.

He’s got a firm line, and he’s just drawn it.

I respect that. I just feel that all of this is crumbling around me, and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t even think it’s my place to stop it.

“I don’t even need to read what you wrote to know that’s not what I want. Because I want all of you.”

“You can have all of us. Just separately. I’m not trying to stop that.”

Finley stands up. “I need to go. I need to think about all of this.”

“Can you let me explain what we talked about?” Evan says, putting a hand on her arm.

“No. I don’t want to see that you’ve divvied me up with Tucker Tuesdays and Evan Fridays and rules about who sleeps where and how restaurant bills are divided. No.”

“That’s not what…” Then I shut my mouth. I don’t want to invalidate what she’s feeling in any way. Her feelings are hers, and she’s entitled to them.

“Goodnight, all three of you,” Finley says, heading to the door. She turns, and her finger shoots out in my direction. “And if you say we can circle back to this tomorrow, Christopher, I swear to God, I will cancel your birth certificate.”

I shake my head like I wasn’t going to say something that fucking stupid. I’m honestly not sure if I was or not, but I make a vow right then and there to myself to never corporate speak Finley unless we’re in the bedroom and it’s sexy role playing.

If I ever see her in the bedroom again.

“Well, that sucked,” Tucker says when the door shuts firmly behind Finley. “Should I follow her?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Evan does open the front door. “I want to make sure she gets in her car okay.” A second later, he confirms, “She pulled away.”

“Now what?” I ask.

“Now nothing. I’m going home, too,” Tucker says. “I need a fucking beer.”

His face is stormy as he leaves.

Evan flops onto the sofa and puts his hands over his face to rub. “This is fucked up.”

For a man used to being completely in control, I have no idea what to do in this situation.

I just sit down next to him. “Maybe we should open that wine.”

But Evan shakes his head. “I think I’m going to head home too. I just need some time.” He drops his hands, and the misery on his face breaks my heart. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.” I cup his cheek. “Whatever you need.” I give him a soft kiss. “Just don’t shut me out.”

“I won’t. I promise.” He gives me his own kiss. “I love you. I’ll call you tomorrow." Then he manages a grin. “We’ll circle back to this.”

I wince, then chuckle. “Too soon, love. Too soon.”