Chapter Three

Trent drummed his fingers on the railing as he leaned over and examined the swimming pool spread below him like a shimmering jewel. “Are you sure she’s not there?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sullivan, but she’s not in the office, and while she’s got a mobile phone, it’s strictly for emergencies during the soft opening.” The woman on the other end of the phone sounded professional, tactful—and controlling as hell. Trent made a mental note to let Kylie know her assistant was certainly on the money for keeping the wolves at bay.

Although as her bro, he wasn’t sure he counted as a wolf.

“Fine, leave a message confirming her brother Trent is here, and if she’s got a minute, call.”

“Very good, sir. Enjoy your stay.”

Trent strolled along the smooth walkway, the rich greenery on either side of him lush and full. A deluge of bright red and pink tropical flowers flooded the trails between the resort buildings with their perfume. Combined with the cloudless sky and the distant roar of the ocean, all the elements formed a perfect picture of paradise.

Now if only he had a few reassurances he wasn’t going to be kicked out of the Garden of Eden prematurely. Their time with Paige hadn’t been nearly long enough. Was suggesting they veer from their original “nothing but fun” commitment going to ruin everything?

A bench tucked into the foliage beside the path attracted him and he paused, sprawling on the curved wood seating. He hadn’t left the room that long ago—Mason and Paige were probably still fucking each other’s brains out. His dick stirred at the thought of going and watching them, but fair was fair. He’d had some time alone with her. Now he’d be a sport and let Mason have the same.

Funny how the three of them just…fit. They’d never had a major issue, nothing more than a few squabbles, ever since they met. Of course, neither he nor Mason had ever broken the rules with her, certainly not like they’d been discussing privately for the past two months.

Since high school he and Mason had dreamed about taking an extended sailing trip along the Australian coastline. When the perfect yacht had shown up for sale at the harbor, they’d jumped at the chance to buy her. Paradise was exactly what they needed for the trip—trim and yet spacious enough for comfort. The timing was right for him to take a sabbatical from his job at customs, and Mason could write anywhere. All their harebrained plans were falling into place but for one major obstacle.

Paige.

They’d never imagined having someone like her in their life back in their original brainstorming days. Leaving her behind as they headed off? Impossible. Not because they wanted her along for sex, but because she would totally get the adventure. The whole trip was something she would appreciate—a way to experience more of the world. Leaving Canada in the first place to come to Australia had proven she had the drive.

But would she be willing to give up her job as a pastry chef to set out into the wild for half a year with them? Part of him said yes—she’d been open and game for so much in the past. Part of him thought he was nuts.

He tilted his head back to stare into the blue sky. A couple of birds warbled at him from an overhead branch and he laughed. It wasn’t the idea of inviting her to join them on the ship that freaked him out. It was asking her to change their casual rules to something more intimate. How would she take the news that both he and Mason had fallen in love with her? Most women would run screaming.

Paige wasn’t most women—and she’d been happily involved sexually with two men for a year now, but there was a wide gap between casual and permanent. Permanent implied words like family and marriage and all the things not usually associated with fucking-flings.

His mobile phone rang, and when he checked the number he frowned in confusion. Work? What the hell do they want?

“Sullivan here.” God, don’t let it be work calling him in for another emergency at the docks. There was no way he wanted to leave Bandicoot Cove before they’d told Paige what he and Mason hoped for. They had to muddle their way forward, and soon.

“Hey, Trent. Bad news. Your leave has been approved. I’ve got the papers here, awaiting your signature.”

Relief shot through Trent like an electric zap. “Fuck it—you nearly gave me a heart attack, you bastard. How did you do that so fast? And what do I owe you?”

Charles’s deep laugh carried over the line. “It’s not rocket science, mate. Admit it, you hate paperwork. Good thing you’ve got a friend in the government form department. I can get you anything you need, right?”

Trent’s head spun. Another step forward to making the trip a reality. “Can you email the form to me? Fax—courier? Whatever the hell you need.”

“No worries. You’ll have it in the morning. I have one question, though.”

“What?”

“When’s the wedding?”

Trent choked, snapping upright. “What?”

Silence screamed at him from the other end of the line for a second. “Good one. You had me going for a minute. Mason Wood called and asked me to grab a Notice of Intended Marriage form for you as well. If that’s not right, I’ll leave it out of the package.”

His brain had gone numb. With one fell swoop all his grey matter had ceased to function. Why had—? No, don’t ask, just accept it and kill Mason later. “No, no, that’s fine. Sorry, I…misheard you. There’s—” Trent glanced around frantically, looking for an excuse. He whipped off his shoe and dragged it against the slats on the back of the bench. The heel made a thump, thump noise that echoed nicely. “There’s someone working on the fence—it was a little loud for a minute. Distracting. Send everything over, with instructions, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

“You got it. Catch you for a beer next weekend? Last one before you take off?”

“You bet.” Trent gave the shoe another couple of dedicated drags to ensure the staccato noise registered louder in the phone than his heart, its violent pounding ringing audibly in his ears. “My shout. You’re a lifesaver.”

Charles hung up and Trent’s shoe fell unminded from his fingers as he slammed in the speed dial for Mason’s phone. Screw it if he was interrupting anything. The bloke had a lot to answer for.

An Intent of Marriage form? What the hell was Mason doing?

Trent fidgeted, slipping his shoe back on and stomping the path toward the beach area. The phone rang four times before flipping to Mason’s voice message and Trent growled, snapping his phone off and shoving it in his pocket.

Marriage. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought of the institute. Had no issues with it. His parents were still rock solid, and somewhere down the road he always figured he’d get hitched.

He pictured getting to wake up next to Paige every morning for the rest of his life. Experiencing her enthusiasm, not only for a weekend at a time, but daily. Hourly.

Nightly.

Hell yeah.

But the plan he thought he and Mason had agreed on was to convince Paige to travel with them, then slowly let her know they wanted more than a casual situation. Allow her to switch gears from this being a fling to something they were serious about. Let her make up her mind about marriage and everything else in her own time.

He reached the end of the path, the greenery giving way to the white sand beach, recliners and sun umbrellas in pristine rows waiting for resort-goers. Trent ditched his shoes and socks, and an attendant appeared out of nowhere to whisk them away to individual cubbies tucked discreetly behind an unobtrusive mesh screen. The man raced back with a chilled water bottle and a towel before offering to assist in finding a chair. Trent waved him off.

The sand warmed the soles of his feet, the midday sun heating the beach and his body nicely. Now if he could find a way to settle the flipping firecrackers going off in his brain.

He grabbed a chair and dragged it partway down the beach. There were only a handful of people around—Kylie had mentioned that Friday morning was going to be slower for the trial run at the resort, with most of the practice guests arriving for the big party in the evening. He’d deliberately brought the yacht in on the morning tide to make the most of every available minute, and while he didn’t regret it…fuck. How were they going to tell Paige what he and Mason had planned? And what was the bloody plan?

The sand flew from under his toes as he aligned his chair with the sun. One leg straddling each side, he sat, the thick cushion under his hips cradling him softly. Here he was in the lap of luxury and he was…

Miserable. Bloody, whacked-out fool.

Two silhouettes darted from the greenery and raced for the ocean, and he watched distractedly, mind racing. If Paige were willing to marry him, he’d have no objections.

Mason—fuckit. He’d been the bloke who told Charles to organize a marriage form in the first place. Was there something his best mate and his woman weren’t telling him? Shit.

The last time they’d made a rendezvous for a weekend get together, he’d had to cancel. He’d been called in to do an emergency job for the customs crew. Normally his position as a customs inspector—scuba diving to examine the hulls of visiting vessels—was a entertaining way to make a living, and rarely did it interfere with his private life, but what if this time something had happened?

He growled at himself, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and yanking it off. Now he was acting like a teenager and imaging all sorts of plots and problems where there was nothing that couldn’t be solved with a little conversation.

Trent leaned back and opened the water bottle, chugging thirstily. Images of Paige greeting him in her sexy outfit flitted past and he had to adjust his dick, wiggling in the chair in a losing battle to find a comfortable position.

A rolling line of white broke smoothly along the crest of the wave the swimmers played in. Trent’s trained eye measured the speed of the curl—there wasn’t enough of a current off Bilby Island to surf, or even body surf. The couple didn’t seem to mind. Their bodies glistened in the sunlight, water splashing everywhere as they stood and let the waves knock them over.

Images flashed, a memory of the sun flashing bright against surging water. The day they’d met Paige…

“Done making a fool of yourself, mate?”

Trent raised his middle finger and held it firmly in Mason’s direction, smirking as laughter bounced back at him. He gripped the skimboard resolutely, timing his approach. He took a run at the surf, dropped the flat wooden board and stepped on top. The thin layer of water between the board and the sand allowed him to spin lightly in a half circle as he shifted his body weight.

Then he hit something and flipped arse-first to the sand. Again.

This time it wasn’t only the sound of Mason’s amusement that rang in his ears. There were a couple of long-legged women sunning nearby on the white sands of Bondi Beach. One blonde, one brunette—both smiling admiringly his direction. He pulled himself out of his awkward sprawl and tossed them a wink, rising to dust off the sand.

The women were still watching, and his interest rose. Two of them—that worked, since both he and Mason were without any female companionship at the moment.

“Well done. Still no broken bones.” Mason slapped him on the shoulder. “You ready for me to show you how it’s really done?”

Trent rolled his eyes and passed over the board. “Drinks on you when you fuck up.”

“Deal.”

Mason didn’t take more than five seconds to eyeball the water before he shouted and raced forward, dancing over the surface as if he had wings on his heels.

Bastard.

After a final flamboyant twirl, Mason snatched up the board and cockily strolled back to Trent’s side. “Lessons anytime, mate.”

“That offer open to anyone?”

The lightly accented question came from the beachside. The brunette Trent had admired rose to her feet and joined them. Her one-piece suit wasn’t the most revealing on the beach, but she had curves in all the right places, and Trent’s appreciation was reflected on Mason’s face.

Mason made a mock bow. “You brave enough to try?”

Light shrug. “Doesn’t look too dangerous. If I fall I’ll just get back up.” She held out her hand. “Paige Kingston.”

“Trent Sullivan.” He pointed at his mate. “Mason Wood.”

She nodded at Mason, then glanced over her shoulder. “Meg, you want to try?”

The blonde grimaced. “Gad no. You’re mad.”

Paige turned back to them, muttering “stick in the mud” under her breath.

“Where you from, love?” Mason asked with a grin.

“Canada.” She faced him square on. “You going to teach me? I like your technique better than Trent’s.”

Oh really? Trent eased between them. “All depends what we’re doing. I think you’ll find I have very good technique.”

She lifted her chin and stared him in the eye. The tip of her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, and his dick got hard. “Sounds interesting.”

They were still staring at each other when Mason tugged her hand to explain how to ride the skim-board.

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon playing in the surf, laughing constantly. Someone selling handmade necklaces on the sly wandered past and Trent impulsively bought her one, draping it around her neck with great ceremony. He received a teasing thank-you kiss on the cheek, although her eyes promised more.

Her companion had disappeared when they finally collapsed onto the beach blanket, Trent and Mason on either side of her. His arm lay alongside hers, touching lightly. He’d let his attraction to her remain clear the entire time. Only Mason had been flirting with her just as hard, and she hadn’t shown her hand yet as to who she liked better.

“You’ve been abandoned,” Mason noted.

Paige sighed, almost as if in relief. “That’s just fine. She’s a coworker and kind of tagged along uninvited. She didn’t seem to get the part of the conversation when I told her I wanted to have fun.”

“Stick in the mud?”

Paige blushed. “You heard that? I wasn’t very polite.”

Trent lightly nudged her arm. “True through?”

“Damn right. Life isn’t for sitting on a beach rotating like a chicken on a spit. It’s for grabbing hold of and experiencing everything you can.”

That’s when Trent noticed Mason was tracing designs on her other arm with his fingertips.

“Any other experiences I can help you with today, Paige Kingston?” Mason asked.

The bloke had balls. Trent copied his example and rolled a little closer, casually letting his thigh make contact with hers.

She glanced back and forth between the two of them, her smile growing broader. “Well, that depends. Is this a package deal?”

“Two for one?” Trent and Mason exchanged a quick look and a nod. Trent was game, even if they’d never done such a thing before. He sat up and let his gaze trickle over her. “If you’re interested, I think we can deliver.”

“I like the sound of that.” She leaned her shoulder against Mason’s, checking her watch. “I have one question, though.”

The multitude of ideas of what this intriguing Canadian could possibly want to know distracted Trent almost as much as the hand she slipped around his neck. “One question?”

Her smile blinded him. “Either of you want to try skydiving tomorrow? I made a booking, but I need at least one person to go with me.”

Trent came back from his daydream to find himself staring at the long, lean lines of the woman as her partner chased her from the water. She looked amazingly familiar, and he cursed.

How the hell did the two of them get down here that fast? He hadn’t wandered the grounds for that long.

He lifted a hand off the chair, intending to wave at them. Instead, he let his arm fall back to his side. Mason had caught Paige from behind, and the two shadowy outlines merged into one. Even at a distance Trent knew what they were doing. He’d seen it often enough—seen it that first day on the beach. Paige’s arms would rise up to allow her fingers to dig into Mason’s hair. Their torsos would be in complete contact, her soft breasts pressed to his chest, his dick to her belly. Trent’s own cock filled again as he longed to experience the pressure of contact.

They were kissing. Definitely. Long, slow kisses with lots of tongue, and Trent let his hand fall casually over his lap as he looked around to see if anyone was close by, because if he didn’t do something, he was going to explode. His dick swelled, aching for a touch.

There were a couple of people sunbathing twenty-five meters to his left. Too close, still far too close. He abandoned the chair and recovered his shoes, ignoring his demanding cock as it sprang upright inside his boardies. Staying put was out of the question, only which way should he go?

Not even five paces later, Trent had to acknowledge he’d deliberately set an intercept course with his friends. All three of them were headed toward the central core of the resort, Paige tugging Mason along by the hand. So much for letting things progress slowly this weekend. He wanted some answers, and he wanted them now.

The brilliance of Paige’s smile when he reached them said nothing but that she was glad to see him. “How’s Kylie?”

“Busy as all get-out. Never even caught a glimpse of her.”

Mason wrapped an arm around Paige’s waist. His mate’s move was unpracticed, natural. The flash of frustration that hit Trent had nothing to do with the easy physical intimacy between the two of them and everything to do with his own mental uncertainty about the future. He needed to get Mason alone and ask a few pointed questions.

Paige snatched his wrist in both her hands and actually bounced with excitement. “We’re going to the water slide. You want to come?”

Jesus. No. Sliding with his cock the size of a cricket bat he was liable to put out an eye.

“That might not be the best idea right now.”

Paige gave Mason a kiss on the cheek, then leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. His brow rose, and he snorted before patting her on the arse and pushing her in Trent’s direction. She glanced around before sliding her hands up his abdomen to play with his chest hair.

“I think we need to find somewhere to be alone soon.” She rolled her hips against his and any thought of keeping his woody a secret vanished.

He clutched her waist, limiting her motion. If he held her still maybe his cock would relax. “I want to spend time with you outside the bedroom.”

It came out gruffer than he’d intended, and a shadow crossed in front of her eyes. Damn blunderer. He leaned over and kissed her gently, asking for forgiveness with his lips.

She pressed her full length against him, the moisture clinging to her two-piece suit transferring to his body. Warm, comfortable and yet tempting. He threaded his fingers through hers before leaning away to stare into her eyes. Yeah, a little more time outside of fucking each other silly would help demonstrate they had something worth using any means possible to maintain. No matter how unorthodox.

“TS?”

A soft, womanly voice intruded on what he had considered a mighty fine personal moment, but he managed to drag his gaze away from Paige’s big brown eyes. Then he straightened in surprise, letting go of her completely.

“Sienna?”

…

Paige wasn’t sure what she expected, but for Trent to drop her as if she were a hot potato and reach to envelop the little bit of Aussie beauty right there before her wasn’t on the list. At least it was a friendly hug, not a full-body one, or the woman would be getting a dose of Trent’s cock pressed against her, and Paige really didn’t think she could handle that right now.

She stepped back uncertainly. Damn—this was one of those awkward moments she’d managed to avoid until now. All the places they’d met, all the trips the three of them had taken together, had drawn the guys away from their familiar turf.

This getaway was Kylie’s gig though, and with Trent invited to the soft opening as her younger brother, Paige should have known there would be others of their group around. She’d met Kylie before, and Mason’s twin a couple of times—nice enough woman, although McKenzie seemed totally unaware her brother was sleeping with anyone, let alone sharing a woman with his best friend.

And now little Miss Perfectly-Put-Together with the great set of knockers… Paige glanced at her own chest and wished her sports swimsuit was padded. It wasn’t like she was flat or anything, but the tight top compressed her chest until she felt as if she were wearing a training bra.

“Damn, it’s good to see you, SJ.” Seamlessly, Trent stepped back and Mason stepped forward to embrace the chick, and Paige clenched her teeth together to stop from growling out her ownership.

Holy shit, she was in trouble if she couldn’t keep her jealousy under control and hidden. Being green-eyed over her man paying attention to another woman made sense. Being possessive over two men? That would be a hell of a lot harder to explain.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and tried to look casual. Although with both her men paying full attention to—Sienna?—there wasn’t much else she could do.

Then Trent turned back, his expression sharp and focused as he pulled her against his side. From the way he slipped their bodies together it was clear he had no intention of hiding they were a pair, and the knot of jealousy that had sprung up was pacified. A little.

“SJ, I’d like you to meet Paige. She’s my special guest here for Kylie’s practice run. Paige? This is Sienna, one of the three ladies who made my teenage life hell.”

So, this was the one member of the Goddess Pack she hadn’t met yet. Kylie, McKenzie and Sienna—inseparable and deadly to the male libido. Mason and Trent had both told her about drooling over this particular woman back in their teens. Paige reached out a hand and politely shook with Sienna, attempting to make her greeting seem pleased and not annoyed.

Even though the other woman wore a happy expression, tiny tired lines marred the corners of Sienna’s eyes, and as Trent’s hand made a slow circle between Paige’s shoulder blades, the rest of her distrust sputtered away. Something wasn’t right in the heavens to cause the woman to look so lost.

Paige leaned forward and smiled for real, offering what sympathy she could without a word. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Gorgeous resort, isn’t it?”

Sienna nodded, adjusting her shorts as she straightened, her chest drawing the attention of not only Paige, but both Mason and Trent. “Absolutely stunning,” Sienna agreed with a nod. “And I’ve only seen my room and the ocean. I’m headed for the pool now.” She paused. “Wanna join me?”

Paige opened her mouth to answer when Mason cut in, drawing close to her other side. “We haven’t had anything to eat yet. You want to grab some grub with us?”

Sienna shook her head with a grin. “Thanks for the offer, but Ky told me the strawberry daiquiris here are the best in Australia. And they only make them at the pool bar. I’m off to order a double.”

Paige’s stomach grumbled and Mason laughed.

“If we don’t feed Paige soon she’s liable to turn on us. Woman is scary when she’s hungry.”

She shifted without thinking to bump him with her hip. “As good as the daiquiris sound, I think we’d better hit the buffet first.”

Paige flushed slightly as she spotted Sienna’s one brow raised high, amusement painting her face. Damn, that hadn’t looked like a “lover’s tap”, had it? More a buddy bump? Because Trent had as good as declared them a couple. Explaining why she was acting intimate with Mason as well—not an easy task.

Trent frowned as he stared at Sienna. “Where’s Ben?”

Whatever light had glowed in Sienna’s eyes flickered and died.

“I’m guessing he’s at work,” she said. “I wouldn’t know though. We broke up.”

Both the guys stiffened. Mason muttered something low that sounded like “fucker” “asshole” and “pain”.

“Shit, SJ, what the hell?” Trent would have reached for her again, but Paige held him back. This time it wasn’t jealousy that made her restrain him from offering a hug. The woman didn’t need sympathy right now. She was gorgeous—if Paige wasn’t firmly in the loving-the-male camp, she would have been all over Sienna. If a guy was stupid enough to call it off with the Goddess, he was the one who deserved sympathy—along with a swift kick in the balls.

No, the solution was to grab on and seize life with both hands. Like Paige herself intended on doing until the last possible second.

Paige clapped her hands slowly a couple of times, nodding as if in approval before pointing a finger at Sienna. “You know what? Sometimes the best additions to our lives are a few choice subtractions. Assholes, cheats, riffraff…”

Sienna smiled at Trent. “TS, I like the way your woman thinks.” She turned to Paige with a shrug. “I wish he had been an asshole, cheat or riffraff. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. Isn’t. He’s just a nice guy who married his job instead of his fiancée.” Her voice caught. “It happens.”

Mason jammed his hands in his pockets, a dark flush coloring his cheeks. For the second time that day Paige watched her gentle friend show a protective side she’d never witnessed before. “If you need any knees broken, say the word. Otherwise…drink a few for us, and if you see Mack before me, tell her I need to chat with Aidan as soon as possible. The bloody bastard turned off his mobile.”

Sienna nodded, straightening noticeably. That trace of amusement Paige had seen at the start was back, and as she turned, Paige swore that Sienna was making some non-New Year’s resolutions. Something that involved kissing her workaholic ex goodbye with more than fruity alcohol. Paige wished her well, even as the sight of the woman’s heart-shaped butt swaying from side to side as Sienna disappeared down the path made her sigh.

Why couldn’t she have an ass like that?