Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother

13

It's eleven-thirty, and I'm mopping the kitchen floor when there's a knock at the door. It's unusual because the door isn't locked, and the boys never knock before coming in, so I rest the mop against the wall, and head to the door, wiping my hands on my apron.

All morning I've been recalling how I woke in the middle of the night with Cash's tongue at my entrance. I was already so close to coming that all it took was four licks, and I was filled with warm pleasure and awe. His sigh of enjoyment when I came was so sexy, and as he climbed up my body to kiss me, I gawked at his gorgeous body dressed only in tight underwear. There was nothing left to the imagination! Just recalling the outline of his cock sends a flush to my cheeks.

I yank open the door, and my stomach drops through the floor as soon as I see that it's Amber, dressed in a floral sundress, standing on the step.

"There you are, Mel," she says. "I was wondering if you might have been at the store." Her eyes drift over my worn clothes and messy hair. Next to her, I must look so disheveled.

"I'm in the middle of chores," I say.

"Well, I'm sure they can wait while we have a catch-up." She steps closer and ducks into the house. Damn the wide door to hell.

Ignoring the wet floor, she strolls across it, taking a seat at the big kitchen table, gazing around like she's a prospective buyer being shown around by a realtor. "This place has a lot of charm. The Bradfords must have done some upgrading since they brought it from the Flints. They weren't renowned for their homemaking skills." She smiles, proud of her knowledge of the history of this place, whereas I just think she's a busybody.

"Maybe." It bugs me that I'm going to have to offer her a drink. "Can I get you a glass of iced tea?"

"I'd prefer coffee if that's okay." She fans herself, even though the temperature is perfectly fine. "So, how are you settling in? I hope they're not taking you for granted."

Like Amber really cares about me! "It's fine," I say. "They're good to me."

"Really? Like how?"

I turn my back, reaching for a coffee cup and busying myself with the coffee maker. I wish I had the brazenness to tell her that I'm paid fairly with money and orgasms, but I know that would be all over town in the blink of an eye.

Shrugging, I decide not to answer. "How do you take your coffee?"

"With sugar and cream," she says. "So you sleep here, in this house?"

"Of course." I stir in the sugar and cream.

"It's just, I thought with your old house so near, you could have stayed there."

Her mention of Cooper's Cottage riles me up, and I grit my teeth, inhaling long and deep to try to stay calm. I know it's absolutely her intention to poke me in a sore spot. It's just the way she's always been. "That wouldn't be practical."

"So, what are they like? You know…do they talk to you or do they treat you like a servant?"

"They're not monsters," I say, placing her coffee on the table harder than I was intending. Some sloshes over the edge, but I don't wipe it up. I can't bring myself to sit next to her, so I return to stand at the edge of the counter, hoping she'll get the hint and leave soon.

"Don't you hate them for taking your home?" Amber sips her coffee, never taking her slightly narrowed eyes from me.

"If it wasn't them, it would have been someone else."

"I suppose. They're really doing well for themselves, aren't they? No other ranchers around here are expanding the way they are right now."

Shrugging, I pick at the skin around my fingernails.

"So, what are they all like?"

What the hell does she want me to tell her? It's not my place to be confiding in the intricacies of the Bradfords’ personality dynamics. "They're hard-working. Typical ranchers. Up at dawn. You know…your daddy's a rancher!"

"I mean, what are they like? You know…which one is the hottest?"

"They're brothers…twins, and triplets…there's not much to separate them."

"But they must be different…like, which one is the mean and moodiest? I always like the troubled boys."

She's described Scott to a tee, but I'm not going to tell her that. I don't want her fixating on him. He's the one most uncertain about Cash's idea of a polyamorous family unit. The one most at risk of going rogue, and as I gaze at this woman, I realize something that I'm stupid not to have considered before. If Cash doesn't get his way—if his brothers or I resist—then there will be other women coming into this house. Other women with different ideas. Other women to cause friction within our well-functioning unit.

I have a choice to make, and I need to make it soon. Is a traditional relationship with Cash what is going to make me the happiest? When the others find their own girlfriends, one of them could end up with Amber or someone like her, and that prospect fills me with dread.

"All men are moody. It comes with the testosterone and lack of ability to multitask and deal with stress."

"I know something that helps relieve stress." She grins, flashing her pretty, even teeth, but she seems more like a piranha to me than ever.

"I'm sure they get plenty of that in town," I say.

Amber shakes her head, cradling her coffee cup in two hands. "That's just it. No one's been with them. I've asked around. Not even the bar whores. Seriously, the Bradfords live like monks."

Is she serious? They were out last night, and I thought they'd be on the hunt for women, but it seems that I was wrong. I guess they were giving Cash space. Even Scott, who doesn't want this thing between us to succeed, went out of his way to leave, despite being tired from a hard day’s work

I thought he'd be jumping at the chance to find an alternative to me.

"Well, maybe they choose to indulge out of town."

Amber shrugs. "I doubt it. Why would anyone bother driving that far? Men are lazy, even when it comes to sex!"

It's at that moment that I hear the crunch of tires on the driveway outside. The Bradfords are back for lunch early, and Amber is still here.

This is it. They're going to lay eyes on her, and any interest that any of them might have had in me is going to blow away like ash on the wind. I don't even have their lunch ready yet. This is a disaster.

"Is that them?" Amber stands, smoothing her dress as she approaches the window to peer out. She's feigning surprise, but I know it was her intention to bump into them. Her whole intention was to use the excuse of having coffee with me to get an introduction. I don't think I've ever been more furious or less surprised. She always was a queen of manipulation, especially where the opposite sex is concerned.

"They're home for lunch. I need to prepare it," I say, hoping she's going to get the hint that she needs to leave.

"Well, I can help you with that," she says. "It looks like it's my fault for distracting you. It's the least I can do." Of course, she'd turn it all around and find a way of getting involved. I don't need her help, and I certainly don't want it. Just the idea of her scheming fingers touching my homemade bread makes me want to scream.

"Hello," Cash calls at the door. They must have seen Amber's car and gotten all polite.

"I'm in here," I say. "You're early."

"It's my fault. I'm ravenous." He appears around the door, noticing Amber for the first time. I'm waiting for his expression to change. Men often lose all of their dignity in the presence of a beautiful woman, but not Cash. He actually eyes her suspiciously as she changes her stance, putting one leg back and twisting her body like the celebrities do on the red carpet. "Hi, I'm Melanie's friend Amber," she says. Her voice is so falsely bright, but to me, it's like listening to nails scraping a chalkboard.

Cash nods but doesn't reply. Behind him, Colt and Cary appear. They are equally silent.

"Hi, I'm Melanie's friend Amber," she repeats, this time with a girlish wave. Colt and Cary turn to look at each other, and Colt's lips twitch.

"Go wash up, and I'll get the food ready as quickly as I can."

"They don't look like they need to wash up," Amber says. "Nothing wrong with a bit of dirt on a working man."

Where the hell is she getting this from? She looks like the kind of girl who tosses her panties in the trash rather than washing and re-wearing them, and all of a sudden, she likes a sweaty man? I call bullshit.

"Sure," Cash says. He saunters through the kitchen and into the hallway without even a sideways glance.

"You've got them trained," Amber chuckles, watching Colt and Cary follow their brother. Scott is next to appear, with Sawyer appearing behind. "There's more," she grins. "Hi, I'm Amber, Melanie's friend."

Seriously. She sounds like a broken record. "Your brothers are washing up," I say. Scott's dark eyes find mine, then flick to Amber and back to me. I'd give good money to know what he's thinking right now.

"Sure, Mel," Sawyer says, leading the way to follow the triplets. Scott hesitates just enough for Amber to pounce.

"So, what's your name?" she asks, offering her hand for him to shake. He glances down at his own huge palm, finding it covered in dirt and God knows what else. "I wouldn't risk it," he says. "Mel, can you put some extra sugar in my coffee. I need all the help I can get today." Shaking his head, he leaves the kitchen too, and I have to stifle the satisfied smile bubbling up inside me. Amber gave it her absolute best, and none of the Bradfords even blinked in her direction. They dismissed her without really saying a word, a skill I haven't yet mastered. All my worries about them being tempted away from me are gone.

For now, at least, they don't seem to be interested in even the prettiest girl I know. A fact that has soured Amber's previously glowing expression. "Well," she huffs as soon as they are out of earshot. "They're rude."

"They're tired. They've been working since before dawn. They're always like that over lunch." Except they aren't, really. Usually, they're chatty and fun and cool to be around. They share stories about their day and act interested when I tell them that I've washed their clothes and baked them a cake. It's usually really nice to spend time with them.

"Well, maybe I'll come back another day," she says. "You seem busy, and they don't seem in the mood for guests."

"Maybe that would be best," I say, hoping that she's reading my mind and hearing “Never, ever, ever come back.”

"Well, it was good to catch up." Amber takes hold of her purse and is out of the door without a backward glance. There's a droop to her shoulders that I don't think I've ever seen before, and although I know it's really mean to relish how dismissive the Bradfords were of her, I simply find that I can't help myself one bit!