The Sextet Presents... Playing in the Raine [A Toy Story] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (5 page)

“Athletic and intelligent.” Remembering the wording of his personal ad, he wondered how adventurous she was. Enough to share her life with three men? Ready to get to know her, he waited for her to throw the last of the bread to the mother mallard and her ducklings. “Let’s make our escape while they’re busy eating.”

“Good idea.” She fell into step beside him as he aimed for the Japanese garden. “This is one of my favorite places. I’m not much of a gardener, but I love the bright colors and the smell of the flowers.”

She likes flowers. A way to woo her?
“I like to come in the spring when the forsythias are blooming. And then the lilacs. This time of year I enjoy the butterfly garden. I live in a rental house near campus, so the closest I get to flowers at home is a yard full of dandelions.”

“I had to tell my yard service to quit killing them all. They’re the only flowers in my yard.” Her giggle tickled his insides. “They might be weeds, but I still prefer them to plain grass.”

“Me too. I’m not crazy about using poison to get rid of them, either. Gets into the groundwater.” He tried for a sheepish half smile as they ascended the hill leading to the water lily pond. “Sorry. Environmentalist in my free time. Not a fanatic, just aware and active.”

“That’s a good thing. Do you volunteer with the town’s new planting projects?”

“Yeah, how’d you know about that? Most people haven’t heard about it yet. The official announcement goes to press on—”

“—Monday. I’m on the planning commission. The mayor and I started discussing the need for community involvement last fall. We contacted a couple suppliers to see if they’d be willing to donate some plants and trees to green up the business district. With the wetter-than-normal spring, we had to postpone some of the projects until September and October.”

As they started down the stone steps of the walkway around the Japanese garden, he slipped his fingers through hers. The action seemed natural, felt right. “Careful. The stairs can be slippery. You’re on the planning commission. What do you do for your day job?”

She tightened her grip on his hand, making his pulse skyrocket. “I’m a civil engineer for the state. What do you plan to do with a PhD in philosophy?”

He let out an impressed whistle. “An engineer? Give me ethical issues to solve, but the math? No, thanks. I got an offer for a tenure-track position about a forty-minute commute from here.”

Her grin surprised him. “Cool. I’ve never dated a college professor before. Do I have to call you doctor?”

He laughed at her teasing. “Only if you take one of my classes. I find the whole thing a bit pretentious myself. Um, you’re not a PhD too, are you?”

A flush of pink flooded her pale neck and cheeks. “Well, yeah. But you don’t have to call me doctor, either.”

She was too damn perfect to be real. Would she run screaming the other direction when he, Matt, and Vince told her the truth about why they’d placed the ads? Hell, a fair number of people still had problems with the kind of relationship
they
had. Three guys and one woman? Not exactly a traditional arrangement.

Rounding the end of the lily pond, Rafe smothered the urge to haul her into his arms and kiss her. “Ready to head to the butterfly garden? I brought a blanket, or we can sit on one of the benches.”

“Sure. The blanket’s fine.” Raine’s pace matched his as they hiked along the ridge to the space filled with flowering shrubs and plants. “The best place for a picnic is at the—”

“—edge of the woods. Close enough to smell the flowers and watch the butterflies and far enough away the bees won’t bother us.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Finishing each other’s sentences isn’t supposed to happen on first dates.”

Unless you’ve met the right person to complete your near-perfect love life.
“We’re just on the same wavelength. The same thing happened the first time I fell in love.”

Ignoring the tiny spark of jealousy, Raine tugged her hand free of Rafe’s and jogged toward the tree line. Thirty-eight years old and she’d never fallen in love. How had she gotten halfway through life without experiencing it? She’d been in lust several times, but not a single man had desired her for more than a casual bed partner, ending their association just as she considered taking the next step.

“In the sun or in the shade?” She turned to see Rafe set down the basket and pull out a plaid blanket. Had any man ever asked her preference? Not that she recalled.

“In the sun is fine. I don’t go anywhere without my SPF fifty.” She grasped one side of the blanket to spread it on the ground. “I’d rather be ghostly white than ghastly red.”

Straightening a corner, he shot her another of those fantastic smiles. “Alabaster. You have beautiful skin.”

This guy could sweet-talk a lemon. She could easily fall head over backside into infatuation if she wasn’t so cynical. She plopped down, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Ghostly white, alabaster. My skin by
any
name is still pale. The curse of the redhead.”

“You call it a curse, I call you breathtaking.” He sat across from her and began unpacking the basket. “If you’ll hold the wineglasses, I’ll pour. Soft red okay?” She nodded when he held up the bottle. “I brought pears and strawberries, Brie and Camembert, and a couple kinds of crackers. I hope you’re hungry.”

Yes, she was hungry all right. The man showered her in compliments and wanted to give her wonderful cheeses and her favorite fruits. She wanted to thank him with a week of blow jobs.
No first-date nookie.
“You’re a gourmet chef in addition to a philosopher and an environmentalist, right?”

His gaze shifted to a butterfly hovering over his knee. “I don’t have any formal training, but I like to cook.”

Modesty. A quality she seldom saw in the men she had dated. Most were egotistical, narcissistic, and vain. “Please tell me you like to clean house and do windows too.”

He looked to the sky and laughed. “Sorry, I hate to clean house. But I don’t mind doing laundry.”

A ridiculously random thought popped into her head. She tried to hold in her giggle, but it bubbled out and multiplied, disrupting the flow of her words. “Um…did you know…laundry is…a euphemism for…um, masturbation?”

Lying back on the blanket, he belly-laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. “Raine, you are by far the most interesting woman I’ve ever met. And I mean that in the best way. You are truly special.”

No man had told her she was special before Matt and Rafe. She might’ve fantasized about having both of them, but sooner or later she’d have to choose. They wouldn’t agree to share her. Men were territorial. How could she pick one over the other? Both made her heart beat faster and seemed to really like her for who she was. She liked both of them.
Shit, I’m in trouble.

By the time they finished their picnic and walked back to the greenhouse parking lot, she wanted to cry at the unfairness. Twenty years of dating users and losers, and she broke the cycle by meeting two incredible men in two days.
Don’t forget Vince tomorrow.
Yep, she was in major trouble, especially if he was the third in the trio of coffee shop guys. Her fantasy would have a chance at reality.

“I enjoyed meeting and talking with you, Raine.” Rafe’s smile lit up his blue eyes. “I’d like to see you again. Will you go rollerblading in the park with me Saturday afternoon?”

Her belly flip-flopped. “Yeah. Sounds like fun. I enjoyed meeting you too.”

He leaned in, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and lightly kissing her on the lips. “I have a lunch meeting at twelve. How about if we meet at the bottom of the sledding hill at one?”

Lifting her fingers to her ecstatic mouth, she nodded. What reaction would her body have to a
real
kiss from him? “See you then, Rafe.”

Walking backward a couple steps, he grinned. “See you then, Raine. Drive safely.”

She watched him turn and walk to his car before she climbed into her own and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She was going to have to haul out the big guns when she got home.

Chapter 6

A quick check of the kitchen proved fruitless, so Rafe strode to the living room and took the stairs two at a time, finally stopping at the door to Matt’s studio. He lifted his hand to knock but hesitated. Should they talk about Raine without Vince? Damn it, he needed to share his feelings with someone, and Vince hadn’t met her yet.

He rapped his knuckles on the door.

“I’m busy. What is it?” Matt sounded as frustrated as Rafe felt.

“Can I come in, Matty?”

The footfalls on the other side of the door drew closer. The door opened. Matt looked at him for several seconds, seeming to read his thoughts. “She’s the one, isn’t she?”

Following Matty into the room, he closed the door behind him. “Too fucking perfect for words. Vince is going to have a stroke when he sees her. I get why you wanted to talk last night.”

Matt shrugged, picking up his palette and brush. “You were right. One of us slips up, and she’s history. Besides, painting turned out to be a pretty effective outlet. I’m working on an oil of her.”

Sitting on the stool by the door, Rafe resisted asking to see the new paintings. If Matt wanted him to look, he’d offer. Sometimes, the products were too personal to share.

Rolling a brush in a brown glob, Matty lifted it to the canvas. “I don’t think we should talk about her yet. Let’s wait until Vin meets her. Maybe you can get a concerto out of the cello tonight. She sure as hell inspired me.”

Dismissed?
Rafe hid his irritation behind a smile. “See you in the morning.”

He pushed to his feet and left, closing the door behind him. Instead of heading downstairs to bed, he aimed for the room at the end of the hall. His room. At least a week had passed since he’d set foot in it. His cello stood on its cradle in the corner, draped in a sheet to protect it from dust. The music stand held staff paper and a couple pencils.

Crossing the room, he removed the cover and hefted the cello from its holder. He settled in his chair, his ears ready to listen for a flat or sharp tone in the strings. One by one, he tightened and loosened the pegs until the instrument was in tune. Gliding the bow over the strings, he closed his eyes and lost himself in the music.

* * * *

Vince rolled onto his back, trying to get comfortable. The serenade from upstairs should’ve put him to sleep an hour ago, but he wasn’t used to sleeping alone. He’d shared a bed with Matt and Rafe for almost two years—always one or the other, if not both. They all had their I-need-to-be-alone moments, just never at the same time. Raine had cast a spell on his lovers.

Sitting up to lean against the pillows, he rubbed his roiling stomach. First-date nerves ate at his insides. When was the last time he’d been so worked up about a woman?
Seventeen. Junior prom.
Not that his date had been more than an underdressed, over-made-up girl. Their personal-ad female had a hell of a lot more charisma than sixteen-year-old JC Hanes to put Rafe and Matt into such artistic stupors. Maybe they’d made a mistake, thinking they could bring a woman into their relationship. Or at least this one.
Fuck. Maybe I should cancel.

He shoved his hands through his hair. The situation was his fault. He’d been the one to suggest they needed more. Making love to a body with tits and a pussy would satisfy him on a physical level, but what about love? Would she drive him and his partners apart? Too many doubts.

An image of a red-haired siren with emerald eyes singed the insides of his eyelids.
She
was the problem. No matter what he did, that vision of walking flawlessness invaded his thoughts. He didn’t want Raine, even if she seemed interesting and appealing. He’d fallen for a woman he’d seen once for all of about eight seconds. Meeting anyone else was pointless. Yeah, he should cancel.

Climbing halfway out of bed, he reached for the dresser and the glowing light on the power cord of his laptop. He popped up the screen, blinking at the sudden brightness. The wireless connection kicked in, and he logged into his e-mail account.
One new message.
He opened his in-box.
PlayingInTheRaine. Of course.
Had she saved him the trouble of breaking their date? He clicked on the envelope icon.

Vince, I’m looking forward to meeting you tomorrow. Go to the traveling exhibit on the second floor. I’ll be waiting for you by the sculptures. Raine.