Page 30 of Mysteries, Menace, and Mates

Eve snorted. “It had more than that, but in 1955, the chairman of the local football team bought eighty acres of Gawthorpe land to set up a purpose-built training center.”

“Oh my God, would youlookat this place?” Hashtag sounded awed.

“I don’t have to—I’ve seen it in real life,” she told him.

“In the mid-nineteenth century,” Hashtag read, “the hall was rebuilt by Charles Barry, the architect of the Houses of Parliament. Since 1953 it has been designated a Grade I listed building.” He frowned. “What does that mean?”

She chuckled. “It means you can’t change a damn thing about it, at least not in any way that alters the look of the place. Stuff like windows, heating….”

Hashtag slowly lowered the lid of the laptop. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Her heart pounded, and her palms grew clammy.

“Well,Ido.” Roadkill grinned. “Our mate is an English heiress. Oh. My. God.” He beamed. “Way to go, baby! Whatever will you do with it? It’s way too big to live in.”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Eve breathed a little easier. “Then you’re okay with this?”

Hashtag gaped at her. “Hey….” He got up from his chair, walked over to her, and knelt beside her. “You were really worried about this, weren’t you?”

She gave another nod.

“But why?” Roadkill demanded.

“I thought you might see me differently. Most of the menI’veever met would be intimidated. The rest would be drooling, like I was some kind of cash cow.” She shuddered out a breath. “I should have known you two wouldn’t be like them.”

Hashtag kissed her. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed. I can also understand that, given its history, you might not want to dirty your hands with it.”

She sagged with relief. “There have been times when I’d thought seriously about razing it to the ground, except the local county council have a ninety-nine-year lease on the place, and together with the National Trust, they’ve forked out about half a million pounds to restore the south and west sides of the house. So I’d probably get my ass thrown in jail.”

Hashtag stared at her. “And to think you sounded impressed when you got your first look atthishouse. It’s probably the size of one of the garden chicken coops at Gawthorpe.”

She chuckled. “I thought I sounded suitably amazed. But I’ll tell you both something. There’s more love within these four walls than in every inch of my grandfather’s place.”

“Can we go see it?” Roadkill asked. “You know, when we’re over there?”

Her heartbeat quickened. “You’d like to see it?”

“Of course. It’s part of your history.” He cocked his head. “How long has it been in the family?”

“Oh, not all that long,” she said with a shrug. “Only about four hundred years.”

Their joint expressions of shock had her laughing.

Roadkill gazed at the packet of hot chocolate mix. “I feel as if we should be drinking champagne instead.”

Eve wasn’t in the mood for hot chocolate either.

She stood, holding out her hands. “Take me back to our bed, boys. I want to watch you two make love to each other.” Eve smiled. “In fact, I want you to tire yourselves out so much that Roadkill falls asleep with his dick in your ass.”

Hashtag’s soft hitch told her he really liked that idea.

As they climbed the stairs, Roadkill squeezed her hand. “One thing you might want to consider….”

“Hmm?”

“Your grandfather used it for Geran purposes. Nothing to stop you using it for Fridan purposes when it’s yours.”

Whoever had brought the three of them together had certainly known what they were doing. Eve couldn’t imagine two more perfect mates.

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