Page 11 of Carnival Mayhem

“No?” I raise an eyebrow. “Then why are you so protective already? You feel it too—that pull. She’s not just another pretty face looking for a job. She’s something else entirely. Let’s give her a chance to get comfortable with us,” I suggest, keeping my voice casual. “Invite her to spend the night with both of us.”

Colt’s eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, you’ve seen how she responds to you already.” I tap my fingers against the trailer wall. “She’s drawn to both of us, whether she admits it or not.”

“We’ve never...” He runs a hand through his hair. “Why her? Why now?”

I shrug. “Why not? She needs somewhere safe to stay anyway. Might as well be with us.”

“That’s not—” Colt cuts himself off, shaking his head. “You’re talking about both of us together.”

“Afraid you can’t handle sharing?” I smirk, masking the deeper implications of his words.

“That’s not it.” His jaw clenches. “We work together. Perform together. Adding fucking the same girl into the mix could complicate things.”

“Or it could be exactly what we all need.” I step closer, noting how he tenses but doesn’t back away. “Think about it. She clearly needs protection. Who better than us?”

I can see him wrestling with the idea, probably imagining how it could go wrong. But I also catch that flash of interest in his eyes.

“Fine,” he finally says. “But we take it slow. No pushing her.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I push off from the wall. “Now, shall we go see what Tyson’s decided?”

She’s exactly what we both need—damaged enough to understand us and strong enough to handle us. I saw that flash of defiance beneath the fear in her eyes when she stood her ground. How she leaned into Colt’s touch while flinching from everyone else.

My cock stirs just thinking about how she’d look between us. Her small frame caught between my lean muscles and Colt’s broader build. Those haunted eyes would go wide as we take turns claiming her. The sounds she’d make when we pushed her limits.

But it’s more than just the physical appeal. The thought of sharing her with Colt is intoxicating.

And once we have her, the possibilities are endless. We can protect her, possess her, and shape her into exactly what we need her to be.

Together.

My pulse quickens at the thought. This little broken bird might just be the answer to everything. And judging by the heat in Colt’s eyes earlier, he wants it too—even if he’s not ready to admit it.

7

FLORA

Igrip the edge of my seat as Tyson studies me with those penetrating eyes. My heart threatens to burst from my chest until he finally nods.

“Welcome to the family, then.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as reality crashes back. “Are we not leaving town until just before New Year’s?” The thought of staying in town, so close to the Lowleys, makes my skin crawl. Three weeks of looking over my shoulder.

Tyson must see the fear in my eyes. He leans forward, voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “If those fuckers come sniffing around, they’ll get what’s coming to them. A good fucking beating should teach them to stay away from you.”

The door creaks open, and Colt and Nash slip inside. Their presence fills the small space of Tyson’s office, making it hard to breathe for entirely different reasons. Nash is the guy who called me beautiful when I stood outside the masquerade, and Colt is so kind and absolutely gorgeous.

“What’s the verdict, boss?” Colt’s deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. There’s something about him—a raw power tempered by unexpected gentleness.

Nash moves like a shadow behind him, all controlled grace and coiled tension. Where Colt radiates heat, Nash exudes an icy darkness that terrifies and intrigues me. His gaze slides over me, calculating and intense.

I shouldn’t be attracted to either of them, let alone both. After everything with the Lowleys, I should run screaming from any man who looks at me with hunger in his eyes. But something about them feels different. Maybe it’s how Colt positions himself protectively near me, or Nash’s watchful presence that makes me feel oddly safe despite his dangerous aura.

“She’s in,” Tyson tells them. “You two will be responsible for training her.”

Nash’s smirk sends a ripple of something through me—not fear exactly, though maybe it should be. Darkness in that curve of his lips speaks of carefully controlled danger. Yet, somehow, I find myself more curious than frightened.

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