Marie Harte - Raising the Bar

Dylan answered. “Harper caught me pretending to be my twin. Don’t ask. I lost a stupid bet. But instead of turning me in to his boss and killing a major deal for my brother, he blackmailed me into dinner. Here.”

“Nice, Harper.” She rubbed her hand over his cheek, and her stomach fluttered when he turned to kiss her palm.

“I thought so.” Harper leaned over her to kiss Dylan. “I always liked the look of Derrick, but he was missing something.”

“Oh?” Dylan asked.

“Yeah, he never looked at me the way you did, Doc.”

“Why do you call him ‘Doc’?” She wanted to know.

“Because I’m a psychiatrist. Not a shrink. I detest that word,” Dylan warned.

“He does. So I figure to use it twice a day when I talk to him,” Harper hinted.

“Twice a day, hmm?” Dylan pulled Freddy closer to him. “You didn’t call me all week.”

“I was giving you space. You’re a touchy kind of guy. I can tell.”

Freddy wondered, “So what do you think of all this?”

“I’m new to being with two people in bed, if that’s what you’re asking. But I’m not averse to trying it again.” Dylan’s smile showed even, white teeth.

“Averse.” Harper snorted. “Isn’t he cute? What do you say, Freddy? Should we show him how things are done at the club?”

“I’m shocked. I thought you were a one-man guy. Now I find out you not only like girls too, but you’re in to more than one partner. Golly, Harper. I don’t know what to say.”

“Smart ass.” He tried to reach for her, but Dylan cuddled her closer.

“Now now. Be as macho as you want, but you can’t hurt this tender morsel.”

Even Freddy had to turn to stare at him, sharing Harper’s incredulity. “Tender morsel?”

“Too much?” Dylan blinked, then burst out laughing. “If you could see your faces. Man, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

“Try forever,” Harper added. “At least for me. This is what I’ve been missing,” he said in a softer voice.

Startled, Freddy turned to face him and saw the affection he couldn’t hide. For her? For Dylan? She didn’t know, but suddenly she didn’t care, because he scooted down to plant a kiss on her belly and inched his large hand south.

“Harper?”

“Hmm. Good idea. Maybe we could take turns.” Dylan moved down the bed with him.

“Oh man. I was kidding before about a round three,” she ended on a moan.

Dylan walked through the crowded craft show, still not sure how they’d talked him in to attending. Freddy seemed to touch everything in the small booths set up from one end of the convention center to the other. With over a hundred vendors selling homemade wares and holiday crafts, it was like a Martha Stewart nightmare.

“You seem to be having fun.” He frowned at Harper, who was currently stuffing his face full of candied almonds.

“Man, I love these things.” He held one out to Dylan.

Dylan sighed and took the thing, not wanting to admit it did taste good. “Though I hate to assign gender roles, a craft show isn’t something I would have imagined you’d enjoy.”

Harper grinned. “I love when you get all shrinky.”

“I know you’re saying that to annoy me.”

“Yup.”

Dylan punched him in the arm.

“Ow.”

“So why are we here again?” He saw Freddy squeal over a long knit scarf and groaned. The woman had eclectic tastes, but that aquamarine would bring out the blue in her eyes.

“Because we want to spend more time with Freddy, and we both need to get some Christmas shopping done before everything in this friggin’ town is gone.” Harper looked to Freddy’s right. “Oh hey. My mom would like that.”

He left to fiddle with a Pashmina that Dylan conceded would look very nice on his own mother’s shoulders. With a groan over the fact that he’d been roped into shopping at a piddling craft show by Freddy and Harper, he reluctantly purchased the thing’s twin. Then he bought some earrings for Hailey and Sydney, a hand-carved wooden game for Gage, and a Green Bay Packers ornament for Derrick.

An hour and a half later, they sat at one of the tables eating panini and drinking eggnog. An odd combination, but he’d fallen into the holiday spirit against his will. He stared at Harper’s and Freddy’s grinning faces, knowing he had it coming. “What?”

Freddy blinked innocently. “I’m just happy to see a bigger sucker than me at these things. I can’t believe you bought more than me.”

“Me too,” Harper had to add. “I mean, I know you’ve got two brothers and your mom, but that’s a lot of presents, Dylan.”

“So what? You wanted me to get into the spirit. Well, I’m here.”

Freddy gripped his hand under the table. “Don’t worry, Doc. I think you’re too adorable for words.”

He glared at Harper. “Great, now you’ve got her calling me ‘Doc’ too.” He squeezed her hand, missing it when she let go.

Harper shrugged and finished his sandwich. “You going to eat that?”

The guy consumed enough for three people. Then again, with all the energy they’d expended the night before, he’d earned it.

“What’s that smirk for?” Harper asked, suspicious.

“Nothing. Here, have it. You earned it.”

“Boy, did he.” Freddy fanned herself, and her blond bangs waved over her face. She hadn’t spiked her hair after the shower they’d all shared that morning, and the flutter of that silky bob softened her face.

He and she smiled at Harper, who colored.

“Did you see that, Doc?” She smirked. “Studly blushed.”

“Keep it up and I’ll start calling you ‘Smurfette’. You got that?” Harper growled.

Dylan laughed, unable to keep his joy to himself. God, he’d had the best time today. Most likely still riding an endorphin rush from last night and earlier that morning. A holdover from the incredible pleasure he’d experienced. But he didn’t want to let it go, and he was loath to verbally label this new dynamic. So he smiled and asked what he’d been thinking since they’d left the club earlier that morning. “What’s next?”

More shopping, some decorations they had to deliver to Freddy’s brother’s house while he was out of town, and an evening of wine and dinner at Dylan’s place. He felt pride in showing off his condo, as well as a need to see his new lovers in his home. To his satisfaction, Harper and Freddy looked good sitting on his furniture, at his table, in his kitchen.

Harper could barely boil water, but Freddy was an accomplished cook. So while she and Dylan worked together on dinner, Harper set the table and cleaned up after they ate.

Their unusual unit worked perfectly. Until they had to leave.

Monday had come knocking on Sunday’s door, and they all had work the next day. Freddy apparently did more than bartend. She was part owner in the club and did a lot of behind-the-scenes administration that demanded her constant presence there. Harper had more projects—as well as Natalie—to satisfy, and Dylan had patients to see starting at eight in the morning.

“Hey, Doc, so what’s next?” Harper asked as they all stood by the door. “For the record, we’re now an item.”

Freddy blinked up at him. “That’s nice.”

She didn’t seem pleased, though. Before Dylan could say anything, Harper took her chin in his huge hand. “By we, Smurfette, I mean the three of us. No sex outside of our little threesome.”

Her breathy “oh” explained a lot. As did her joyous grin. “Sounds good to me.”

“Doc?” Harper asked.

The pair looked at him, and he could no more deny them than he could deny breathing. “Yeah yeah. Okay. No sex except with you two,” he grumbled but couldn’t help smiling.

Harper’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. The big lug had caught what Dylan couldn’t bring himself to say. A threesome in theory was a lovely thing. In bed, in practice, it was a dream come true. But a public life of polyamory was not only unaccepted in most social circumstances, but difficult, not to mention it was illegal to marry more than one person at a time. Though why Dylan would leap so far ahead of himself he didn’t know.

Or did he? As he said goodbye to his new lovers with kisses and hugs, and shut the door behind them, he conceded that today had been better than any date he’d ever had. He’d had fun. Real enjoyment doing something he normally would never have done. He’d attended a craft show, for God’s sake. And he’d bought handmade presents.

He didn’t try to stifle a sigh as he locked up then made his way into his bedroom. After plugging his phone into its charger, he undressed and put on his pajamas, a striped designer silk that usually relaxed him. Except, as he shifted in the soft clothing, he remembered hands and lips over his body, and he grew aroused. A quick trip to the bathroom and cold water to his face didn’t help any.

Damn it all, he missed Harper and Freddy. Not just Harper. Not just Freddy. But the pair of them, together. With him.

Loneliness descended as he lay in bed. Sleep refused to come.

Then the phone buzzed. He glanced at the clock. It hadn’t even hit ten o’clock on a Sunday night and Dr. Warren lay in bed feeling sorry for himself. How pathetic. He reached for his phone to see if perhaps one of his patients had called to cancel an appointment for tomorrow. God willing, it would be his eight o’clock.

But the text he read made him smile. Relief filled him and he found himself wondering what he’d bring to Harper’s house for dinner tomorrow night. The wine Freddy liked, or the beer Harper preferred?

By the end of the week, Dylan figured he and his new lovers had spent just about every free, waking moment together. A difficult but not impossible thing, considering their schedules. Dinner at Harper’s, then Freddy’s home. Lunch together with Harper or Freddy when they could manage it. Sometimes he met with them both, and at other times separately. But though they never said it out loud, he thought they all preferred to be together.

It was odd, how connected he felt to the pair of them, and he constantly wondered if he somehow thought to compensate for his mother’s new relationship. Was he clinging to Harper and Freddy because he missed having his mother to himself? But he liked being with both of them. Not one or the other. Why then had he deliberately not spoken of his new relationship to Derrick or Gage when he’d seen them on Wednesday?

He frowned as he straightened up his office. Linda Barry often liked to lie down on his couch for her sessions, though most of his clients preferred to sit across from him at his desk and talk. Personally he thought it suited Linda’s propensity for drama, as she often felt the need to weep and insisted he use a notebook to record all of her “childhood trauma”, which mostly boiled down to jealousy over her sister’s new husband.

Just as he’d finished returning his office to the pristine condition it had been in before Linda’s visit, the phone buzzed.

He pressed a button. “Yes?”

The secretary answered. “Dr. Warren, there’s a Dr. Kincaid here to see you. He’s not on the schedule, but your next appointment isn’t until six.”

Dylan checked the time and inwardly groaned. He had two hours to kill. “That’s fine, Melissa. Send him in, please.”

James entered a few moments later and looked around. “Nice. I’ve been in here before, but it’s been a while.” He grinned. “If you worked in our space, your office would be even bigger. And you could paint it if you wanted.”

Dylan shook his head. “Subtle.” He waved to a chair across from the desk. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” James sat and stared at him. He didn’t speak.

Dylan refused to play mind games. He only had a few more hours before he’d agreed to meet his friends at the club. Freddy had some time off and she’d wanted to try something new with them. He couldn’t wait.

Caging the smile wanting to burst, he raised a brow at his mother’s boyfriend. He’d been working on not reacting to the man’s new title and what it might or might not represent. He had only to accept that James was indeed Barbara’s significant other. Easier said than done.

He cleared his throat. “James?”

“You seem different. More relaxed. That’s good.” James steepled his fingers under his chin as he studied Dylan.

Normally this would have irritated Dylan to no end. Now he only wanted to get James out of his office so he could prepare for his next patient. The last one of the day. “I’m sure you’re not here to analyze me. You want to know my answer about the business?”