Page 16 of Outside the Lines
He closed in on me, and the intensity of his stare pinned me to my chair. He swung behind me, hands on my shoulders, fingers pressing down against my sore muscles. Warm breath caressed my left ear and he whispered, “I’m not straight.”
“Married,” I said, my own voice almost air. “Married, then.”
Simon’s chuckle was wicked and sexy and made my brain melt. He kneaded my shoulders and it was heaven and hell. “It’s an open marriage.”
Unfair. Completely unfair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I glanced up, and there was Simon, close enough to kiss. All I had to do was reach up and drag his head closer.
“Not kidding. Come to lunch with us at two, Ian.” Simon pressed his lips to my forehead, then stood back.
If I hadn’t been dizzy before, I sure was now. Holy fuck. Took me a second, but I remembered how to breathe. Probably sounded like I’d run a marathon, though. Every bit of me tingled.
Not straight. Open marriage. I struggled to make sense of those two statements and of my own feelings. “I—uh. Okay.” Not like I was going to get anything done after his little announcement.
Simon’s smile was blinding. “I need to cash out the register before Dexy comes in. Come up when you’re ready.”
I nodded, since I didn’t have any words left in my short-circuited head. I checked my phone again. Only a few minutes had passed, but the world had tilted sideways in that time.
At least my gaydar was working. Or bi-dar. Whatever. I stared at theWolf’s Landingmodel, and Lydia’s earlier comment—that Simon liked to be borrowed—bounced through my head.Holy shit.
I’d spentyearsin Hollywood, so I’d seen the whole poly thing before. I’d dated a few guys who’d been dating other guys, but never anyone married. How’d that work? Did I want to get involved?
Did Simon?
I suppose his kiss on my forehead was answer enough.
Shit, yeah. I wanted involved. Tangled. Entwined. Guy like that? Sign me up.
I pushed back from the model and stood. First, find the modeling clay, then I could sculpt after lunch. I also cleaned up what we wouldn’t need. I had no doubt Dexy would keep prying customers away, though a thought niggled. Eventually, the model would look less like a pile of crap and more like aWolf’s Landingset . . . and that might attract attention. I’d have to talk to Simon about a sheet or something to cover the grove when we weren’t here.
I stopped short. Simon and sheets. Simonona sheet, under me. Not the first time that thought had coursed through my body, but now there was actually a chance. Maybe. If this wholeopen marriagescenario were true.
Dexy’s hello rang through the shop, and I swallowed hard against my desire and need. I’d worn my crappy loose jeans for painting, which in retrospect had been a good plan. By the time I made it to the front of the store, I was only semi-hard.
There stood the Derrys and Dexy. Simon had the expression of a cat who’d caught a bird. Lydia wore amusement.
Dexy plunked a cash drawer into the register. “Hey, Ian.”
“Hey.” I still sounded out of breath, but Dexy didn’t seem to notice.
“If you guys go to Raven’s Flight, the soup of the day is French Onion. And they’ve got that salmon burger of theirs on special.”
The mere mention of a burger had my stomach growling. I pressed a hand over my belly. “Shush,” I said to my gut.
“I thought you weren’t hungry?” Simon’s voice was like velvet.
I tried not to shiver, especially since Dexy and Lydia were both there. With my hand still pressed over my middle, I answered, “Never said I wasn’t—just that I’d eat later.”
Lydia looked for all the world like she was trying not to burst into laughter. She took a breath, but the smile didn’t fade one bit. “Shall we head out?”
Simon rounded the counter and headed for the door. “Let’s.”
I followed, as did Lydia.
Once again, I was sandwiched between the Derrys as we walked down the street, only it wasn’t quite as awkward as it had been the previous night. So much made sense now. “I guess we should have a conversation.”
They both grinned, and my stomach flipped due to an entirelydifferenthunger.
I should have kissed Ian on the mouth. Cupped his neck, leaned down, and done it. I hadn’t, because Lydia and I tried to keep our poly life on the down-low. Who knew what the hell he thought of polyamory, or my clumsy flirting, or Lydia’s smile.
