The Billionaire’s Bride by L. Steele

7

"If we haven’t been visited by people from the future yet, does that mean time travel will never be invented? However, these people that may have come back may have kept themselves hidden so we don’t know they’ve come back, so the future is unchanged.... Um, does that make sense? Guess the past should stay in the past—we shouldn’t change it but only learn from it. Besides there is no future yet, so how can someone come back from something that hasn’t yet existed?"

-From Ava's Diary

Ava

I walk inside the house and the smell of cigarettes laced with coffee and a deeper, edgier smell I can only identify as testosterone hits me. What the—? I glance at the two men sprawled across from each other. Between them are used coffee cups. There’s also an ashtray—a previously unused one which I’d shoved to the back of one of my shelves… Who’d found it? I narrow my gaze on the cigarette butts that have been stubbed out.

"Have you been smoking?" I scowl at Baron.

"Don’t look at me." He jerks his chin in Edward’s direction.

"You?" I turn on him, "You, Father? I mean, Edward. Really?" I scowl. "Since when did you start smoking?"

"Since I left you and realized how much I miss you?"

My cheeks heat.

Baron makes a sound deep in his throat. I ignore it. I drop my bag on the edge of the couch farthest away from Edward, then stoop to grab the ashtray. "Well, next time, take your butts outside."

"As long as you park your butt next to mine."

Before I can turn he’s patted me on my arse.

"Hey," I straighten, "that was uncalled for."

"Sorry," he raises his hands, "I couldn’t resist."

I glance over to find Baron curling his fingers into fists. "Keep your hands off her, you prick."

"I apologized, didn’t I?" Edward drags his fingers through his hair. "It was a moment of weakness, okay."

"As long as it doesn’t happen again," Baron snaps.

Edward jerks his chin. Baron, glowers, but doesn’t say anything else.

"Hmm." I stare between them, "I assume you’ve come to some kind of understanding."

Neither speaks.

"Well, have you?" I frown. "Go on, you can tell me."

"We…may have." Baron concedes, “but first,” he holds up his finger, tilts his head as if listening. "Wait for it, wait for it." The doorbell rings. "Pizza." He springs up, heads for the door.

"Pizza?" I blink

"Yeah, we have to eat sometime, don’t we?"

I take in Ed's pale features, his rumpled clothes. He seems tired but not in pain. "How’s the wound?" I ask.

"I’ll live." He smiles lazily, and my breath catches.

Shit, this, being surrounded by all these acres of hot manliness isn’t helping me at all. I turn away, "I think I am going to take a shower."

Baron returns just then with two massive pizzas.

"Everything okay with Archer?" he calls out after me.

"Of course." I glance at him over my shoulder. "He’s a good man." I lower my chin. "He mentioned the two of you served together in the army?"

"We did." Baron places the pizza boxes on the coffee table. "There are only two other men I’d trust to watch over you. He’s one of them."

"One of two, huh?" I say slowly. "So, there’s you, obviously. And Archer..."

He nods.

"And the third man?" I tilt my head, "Who's the third person you'd trust to protect me?"

When he doesn't reply, I narrow my gaze on him. "It's Edward, right? You'd trust Edward to protect me, wouldn't you?"

Baron pauses, then resumes opening the pizza boxes.

"Well?" I prod, "You would, right?"

"Sure," he finally says, "why not?"

"Ha!" I stab a finger in his direction. "Clearly, you don’t hate him as much as you say you do."

"You’re right."

"I am?"

"Yep." He straightens, training that bright blue gaze on me, "It goes beyond hate. Let’s just say, while I trust him with your life, I don’t trust his intentions toward you."

Edward bares his teeth. "Same to you, asshole, with knobs on."

I stare between the two of them. "I get it now."

"What?" Edward scowls.

"This is why the two of you are pretending to get along?"

Baron tips up his chin at me. "We get along just fine." He coughs with his palm over his mouth, "Not!"

"Ha," I stab a finger at him, "knew it. The two of you are sitting across from each other, pretending to have a civil conversation, only so you can keep an eye on each other. So you can make sure the other one doesn’t make a move on me."

Edward raises his hands, "Impressive piece of deduction there, Eve."

"It only took you what, fifteen minutes, to come to that conclusion?" Baron snickers.

I throw up my hands. "The two of you in this mood are impossible. Seriously, you guys need to chill out." I turn and head for my bedroom, when Baron calls out.

"The pizza will get cold."

"It will stay," I mumble.

"No, it won’t," he retorts.

I turn, and scowl, "I need a shower."

"You can have one later." Edward nods.

I glance between them. "I am not winning this argument, am I?"

"Nope." Baron raises a shoulder, "When it comes to your well-being, I won’t compromise."

Edward scowls at him, then turns to me. "Eat first, Eve." His voice softens, "You must be hungry." His gaze holds mine. "Besides, I am starving and," he lowers his voice, "I’d love to eat with you."

Heat ripples across my skin and my toes curl. He may as well as have said, "I’d love to eat you." My cheeks heat. Edward drags his thumb across his lips, and my belly flip-flops. Moisture pools between my legs. I take a step forward, only for Baron to plant himself in front of me.

I blink, glance up at him, "What?"

"Here, why don’t you sit down?" He guides me to the chair he’s just vacated. Sensations tingle out from where he touches me. I glance up, to find his lips curving in a knowing smile. I scowl.

"Not fair," I mumble. "The two of you are playing me."

He straightens, glaring down his patrician nose at me. "All’s fair in love and war, baby," he drawls.

"I’m not some kind of…prey that the two of you can take turns toying with," I burst out. "I’m just a woman…" caught between two alphaholes. Oh, my god, how could I have gotten myself into this situation?

I stare between them. Baron folds his arms across his chest. Edward scowls from his place on the couch. The silence stretches, dense and heavy. My throat dries. I take in the pizza on the table, "May as well eat first."

No one moves for a second, then Baron nods. He walks around to sit in the chair opposite me. He reaches forward, takes a paper napkin, passes it over to Edward, who shares it with me. We each reach for a piece of pizza, then begin to eat.

"The chili flakes," I mumble, "can you pass them please?"

Both Baron and Edward reach for the packet. For a second, I am sure they are going to fight over who’s going to give it to me. Then Baron retreats. Edward hands the packet over to me.

“Thanks.” I rip it open, pour the flakes over my slice of pizza, bite into it. Heat suffuses my mouth. Sweat breaks out on my brow. I chew, swallow, and promptly hiccup. Yeah, that’s me, always biting off more than I can chew. I never did know when things could get too spicy for me. Never did know when to stop before I burned myself, or in this case, my tongue. I hiccup again. Both Baron and Edward reach for one of the bottles of iced tea that had been delivered with the pizza. Baron snatches it up, unscrews it, and reaches across the table to hand it over to me. I thank him, tilt the bottle and wash down the pizza. The fire in my mouth subsides. I glance over to find Edward glowering at Baron—who continues to eat his pizza, his lips curled in a slight smirk.

"Oh, for hell’s sake." I place down my pizza and stare between them. "This is not working."

"I don’t know. From where I am, everything is peachy keen," Baron rumbles.

"Only because you won the last round," I accuse him, "and that’s what this is turning out to be, right? Each of you trying to get one up on the other—"

"Sounds good to me." Baron’s smirk widens.

"With me as the prize."

"Does that bother you?" Edward turns to me.

"What do you think?" I snap.

His forehead crinkles. "I think," he glances at Baron, "it’s time we figure out a plan."

"You do?"

"Of course." He leans back, throws his arm across the back of a couch. "That’s why we are here, aren’t we?"

"Hmm." I frown at him. Why is he being so placatory? Somehow, I can’t believe that he actually wants to talk about the elephant in the room, the one we have avoided talking about openly so far.

"He’s right." Baron crumples up the napkin in his hand and drops it in the empty pizza box. "Let’s figure this out."

They both glance at me.

"What?" I frown. "Why are you both staring at me?"

"The two of us spoke about our situation," Edward gestures between him and Baron, "before you arrived."

"You did?"

"We couldn’t arrive at any decision."

I snort, "Why am I not surprised?"

"So, we agreed to disagree," Baron chimes in.

"That’s a start, I suppose."

"We also agreed on one other thing." Edward’s eyes gleam.

I frown, "What?" I swallow. "What did you agree on?"

"That we’d let you choose."