Selecting something to wear for a casual dinner at my parents’ took more effort than it should have. Clothes went flying as I tried on outfit after outfit.

Too fancy.

Too slutty.

Too tight.

Not tight enough.

Pants or skirt? Easy access or not? Should the bra clasp be in the front or back? Skip the bra entirely?

The prospect of seeing Pete again and, more appalling, actually planning to have sex with him later to see if I could get this ungodly attraction out of my system, turned me into a frazzled mess. So when the knock came at the door, I was less than polite when I threw open the door with a barked, “What?”

The large bouquet of flowers initially covered the visitor. Once I finished sneezing, allergies being one of the delightful genetic traits my DNA gifted me, I managed through itchy, red eyes to see a perturbed Anthony peering at me.

“I guess a sorry for triggering an allergen attack is in order,” he sheepishly said.

For some reason, I found this outrageously amusing. I snickered, in between achoos, as I scrounged in my medicine cabinet for a remedy. A chug of good ol’ Benadryl and I mellowed enough that I didn’t sound as bitchy when I emerged from my bathroom and said to poor Anthony, who still stood in the hall outside my apartment, “What are you doing here?”

“I’d planned to surprise you with flowers and then ask you to dinner. Having failed at the first, I’m hopeful I can still convince you of the second.”

Ring. Ring. Hello? Is this Hell? I hear you’ve frozen over. Seriously, his offer surprised me that much.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

He nodded. Even more amazing, he seemed uncertain of himself. Mr. High and Mighty in the Courtroom shifted from foot to foot as he did something so mundane as ask me out for a bite. Was it any wonder I gaped at him, unable to answer?

“You seem surprised.”

“Because I am.”

“After Friday night, I thought…” He shrugged.

“Thought what?” I genuinely wanted to know because, given he’d left without a goodbye or a word, I’d thought what happened was an aberration. A one-time thing we would never repeat or speak about.

Ever.

Before I could find out what he thought, pigs took flight. Really they did. Or the earth stopped rotating. Or I was stuck in some kind of Matrix world where someone messed with reality because who happened to show up to make the moment even more fucked up?

Take one guess.

“Who’s he?”

That’s what Pete wanted to know. Me, I wanted to know who the heck had given him my address. Mom! I also wanted to know, why me?

Anthony whirled to face the werewolf, superfast, enough that I blinked and it was done. Like wow. His rapid speed didn’t compare, though, to the building storm as he and Pete faced off. I could almost touch the testosterone suddenly filling the room.

Ding. Ding. Round one. Was it wrong of me to wish they wore fewer clothes and that the sprinkler in the hall would shower them with baby oil?

“Do you know this man?” Anthony put an inflection on the word that imbued it with a disgust that eloquently related his thoughts.

“Kind of. He’s a client.” Nothing like having the guy I’d recently screwed meeting the guy I planned to screw. Did anyone know of a better word than “awkward” sung in a high pitch?

“Was a client,” Pete corrected. “Now I’m her escort for the evening.”

“You are?” I don’t know who sounded more surprised, me or Anthony, who echoed my words.

“I ran into your parents after the race and chitchatted for a bit. They mentioned your fondness for wine and since I don’t drink often, I offered to drive you to dinner at their place so you could have a few glasses.”

“You’re taking him to dinner with your parents?” Anthony whirled back and fixed me with an accusing, icy blue stare.

Why did I feel as if I’d done something wrong? Anthony acted as if he had a right to be jealous. Last I’d heard, a one-night stand didn’t give a guy the right to assume anything. Apparently, Anthony thought otherwise.

I would have set him straight on that score, but then I caught Pete’s smug smile.

“Not my idea. My mom and dads invited him, against my advice.” Ha, that wiped the grin off Pete’s face.

“I see.”

Judging by Anthony’s tight expression, he did, and didn’t like it. Later, I’d claim the devil made me do it. And he didn’t even have to bribe me with cookies. “Why don’t you join us? My mom always makes too much food.”

Their matching “What?” was too comical for words, but I didn’t enjoy it for long because before I could think of a way to extricate myself, I found myself sandwiched between the pair of them, in a pickup of all things, on my way to my parents’ in a simmering, angry silence, which I clung to more tenaciously than a bulldog with a bone.

The vehicle we were crammed in wasn’t my first choice. I would have preferred the dark sedan Anthony arrived in, but having the chauffeur in his liveried suit, watching my two unwanted suitors bicker on the sidewalk over who should get to take me, proved too much. I didn’t need an audience to my humiliation.

Since my parents invited him first, I told Pete I’d go with him. Anthony, not wanting to miss out, dismissed his driver and we smooshed ourselves into Pete’s truck.

It was the longest fifteen-minute drive of my life. The most titillating too. Big man to the right of me. Even bigger to the left, here I was, stuck in the middle of the ultimate male sandwich.

I could just imagine Brenda busting a gut when she saw us. Although, I’d place money on her exploding in jealousy.

My plan to have both guys stomp off in a fit having failed, I didn’t know what to do with the two men—Brenda would have said just do both of them. Nor could I understand their stubborn insistence on pursuing me.

Sure, I was cute, if a touch too tall, but I wasn’t the type of girl guys fought over. Yet, here I had two dominant men, each determined to get in my pants. Which, really titillated me more than it should have.

Faced with a rival for my body—because it certainly wasn’t because I’d shown them any affection—I wasn’t quite sure how to act or what to think. I did know that, unless I clearly favored one or the other, the rivalry would continue.

Despite my intention, or what I wanted, I’d become a prize. The rope in a tug of war. The treasure in a battle between two men.

Fucking Karma and her jokes.

And sue me if a teeny, tiny part of me didn’t enjoy it. I mean, hello, two guys were fighting over me. Show me a woman who’d never fantasized about it, and I’d prove her a liar.

When we pulled up to my parents’ place, I noted Brenda had already arrived, her monster truck parked at the curb just behind a smart car. Oh god, I hoped her blind date for the evening was the owner. Brenda did such a good job of mocking the eco friendly.

Before Pete could make it around the truck to the passenger side, Anthony had already helped me out, making a show of sliding me down his body. I enjoyed the friction, but his grin of triumph to the wolf? That got him a shot to the gut.

However, I didn’t appreciate Pete’s smirk when he saw me punishing Anthony. A stroke over Anthony’s injured area and an “oops” by me wiped the smile.

With a flounce—a girly move I didn’t know I was capable of— I left them on the curb as I went up the walkway to my parents’ house.

The three-bedroom bungalow sat on the outskirts of the city. The brick façade and gingerbread trim never failed to make me nostalgic as I recalled growing up here.

An only child, not for lack of my parents trying, I’d enjoyed a normal childhood. Loved by my mom and two dads, I did well in school, had enough friends, didn’t get into trouble.

You’d think having grown up in such a well-adjusted environment I’d have turned out less of a bitch. But the opposite happened. Having lived the cookie-cutter dream, I think a part of me yearned for something more. Something less comfortable and more exciting.

And dating a werewolf would fit the bill. My snide subconscious couldn’t help pointing that out. But I couldn’t help but wonder if that was my ignorance speaking.

Lycans claimed they were like everyone else, just hairier. I guess I’d find out if the evening went as planned, which seemed less and less likely, given Anthony seemed determined to dog Pete’s every step.

Hmm. Come to think of it, wasn’t my current dilemma a form of the excitement I claimed to want? Did it get any more wild and chaotic than this? Pitting a rich DA against a werewolf certainly wasn’t safe, or sane.

No matter how the evening ended, I did know that I remained far from ready to settle down in the ‘burbs with a picket fence. I’d possibly never be. And why was I even thinking about this right now?

Just because I’d brought two men with me to meet my folks didn’t mean I was ready to walk down the aisle and pick out china patterns.

The direction of my thoughts made me hope my dads had restocked the liquor cabinet. I needed wine, preferably served via an inserted IV.

Bracing myself for the upcoming disaster of an evening, I entered my childhood home with a male hand on my upper and lower back. Not my idea. The vying men caught up to me before I could get inside and sit down.

My mom’s eyes widened in surprise when she saw I’d arrived with not one but two guys. I thought she’d expire on the spot in glee.

“Chloe. So glad you could make it. You too, Pete. And who is this other handsome gentleman?” If my mother batted her lashes any harder, she’d take flight.

“Mom, this is Anthony Vanderson. He’s a, um—” lover, nemesis, pain in the ass “—friend of mine, who happened to show up. I invited him to come along. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? Of course not. The more the merrier.”

Maybe in her world. In mine, the pit I sank in seemed to get deeper and deeper. Problem was, I didn’t really mind the pit.

Discomfited or not, I didn’t fail to note how nice it felt to end up squished between two perfect male bods. How even the slightest touch from either made my skin shiver or my temperature rise.

I also couldn’t stop myself from recalling some of the threesome stories I’d heard over the years. Not that I could picture either of these alpha males ever agreeing to something of the sort. But my dirty mind… Damn, I almost blushed at the kinky ideas it spewed forth.

The usual me totally wanted to decry the situation, but a girly part of me, the womanly part, couldn’t deny a certain enjoyment that a pair of men vied for my affection. Or my body. I still wasn’t sure what they were after.

I hoped for the latter. Unlike my mother, I truly didn’t think I could handle two lovers in my life, government laws or not. One male was hard enough to balance. Two? Never. I’d rather pay the extra taxes.

Seated on a loveseat meant for two, I ended up thigh to thigh with my dueling beaus, not that they said anything or did anything to show they hated each other. If I hadn’t seen them face off at my place and threatened them if they actually resorted to fists, I would have thought them friends.

They laughed and conversed with Brenda, as well as her fellow for the night—who was driving the smart car because he lost a bet. Usually, he raced around town in a gas guzzling Durango. He seemed a decent sort, if on the short side, and I could already tell Brenda would give him a test run.

As for my dates for the evening, they were annoyingly awesome. They engaged my parents in witty conversation on a variety of topics.

I discovered Pete worked as a landscaper and that Anthony enjoyed sketching in his spare time. Odd, I’d pictured him more as the model rather than the artist.

Despite Pete’s crazy assertion about his neighbor and the fact he probably chased cars, he proved quite agreeable and funny, while Anthony possessed a rapier wit and intelligence, which actually complemented Pete’s more down-to-earth mannerisms. In other words, despite their disparity and their inherent dominant natures, they balanced each other.

They also made it that much harder for me to decide which I liked more. I couldn’t rely on attraction to break the tie; I lusted after them both. Of course, Anthony already had an advantage in that I knew what a fabulous lover he was in the bedroom. Pete, for all his innuendos and good looks, had yet to prove himself. Who would win the battle of the almighty O?

I needed to bang my head off the wall a few times to smack some sense into myself. Here I sat contemplating taking one man to bed so I could compare him to another. Time to get myself a membership to the Sluts ‘R Us club.

When dinner ended, I escaped to the kitchen with Brenda and my mom. Under the guise of doing dishes, which involved us stacking them in the dishwasher and the sink since usually my dads took care of it, I snacked on homemade cookies and tried to make sense of my dilemma. Brenda didn’t provide much help, not with envy staggering her.

“You brought both of them? What happened to choosing one?”

“Why would she do that?” my mother queried. “I say keep them both.”

My mother, ever practical.

“Not happening. Heck, I don’t even want one. They just won’t go away.”

“Sure they aren’t, just like you’re hating every minute of it,” my mother drawled.

“Exactly what are you implying, Mother?” I asked haughtily.

“Me? Nothing.”

Brenda snickered as my mother adopted an innocent look.

It didn’t fool me for one second. “Drop the act. Spit it out, Mom.”

“Oh please, Chloe. Anyone can see you’re attracted to them both.”

Damn it. Was it that obvious? “So? Doesn’t mean I intend to do something about it.”

“Says the girl who brought both to dinner at her mom’s.”

I glared at Brenda. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. And your side thinks you should go for it and keep them both.”

“I am not getting into a threesome.” No matter what my body thought or the decadent things my mind could conjure.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes really.”

“You know, most people choosing to embark on a polygamous path in life stick to good friends to make the transition easier,” said my mother in her sagest tone. “It’s how I ended up with your second father.”

“Do I have to get it tattooed to my forehead? I am not sleeping with them. Either of them.” Because more and more, I was convinced they weren’t worth the aggravation, despite the orgasms.

“Sure you aren’t.” Brenda rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious. I’m not.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t lie like that. I already know you’ve slept with at least one.”

“Mom!”

“What? Are you going to lie and say you didn’t?”

And risk her grabbing me by the ear, dragging me down the hall, and washing my mouth out with soap for sullying it with anything less than the truth?

“Okay, I slept with one. And only once.”

Mother took on a pensive expression. “I’ll bet it was Anthony.”

Brenda confirmed her guess. “Wow, you are good, Mrs. Bailey.”

“How did you know?” Did someone take out an ad in the paper saying I fucked the DA?

“Body language, dear. You don’t shy from his touch, whereas, with Pete, you jump a little each time he goes near you.”

Huh. I’d not realized I did that. Mom should have become a lawyer with her sharp attention to detail.

“So I slept with Anthony. Big deal. It’s not happening again.”

“What about Pete?” my mother asked.

“What about him?”

“Are you going to sleep with him tonight?”

“Mother!” I practically shouted. “This is not appropriate conversation,” I hissed.

“Oh don’t act like such a prude. Nothing wrong with test-driving the merchandise. It’s not like you’re committed to just one, and we all know the law encourages you to take on at least two. Granted, those two might take a little adjusting, given they are such polar opposites,” she mused.

Not that different. They were both overbearing, arrogant, testosterone-laden hunks I wanted to have wild monkey sex with. To think less than forty-eight hours ago I’d been lamenting the dry spell in my love life.

Judging by the crotch of my panties, I’d gone from drought to monsoon season. I just hoped I could weather the damned storm.

And still remain single.

I tuned back into the conversation to realize my mother and BFF had gone from predicting I’d sleep with Pete to even more outrageous areas.

“Can you imagine the babies they’d make?” My mother stared dreamily off into space. “Those blue eyes on Anthony with Pete’s dark hair.”

I managed a choked, “Mom!”

“What? I’m just saying they’ve got some damned good-looking genes. And I didn’t mean right away. After all, I would hope you’d get married like me and your fathers did. Of course, we didn’t get to do it legally until much later because of the uptight conservatives in power. But, in our hearts, we were committed.”

Marriage? Something of my panic must have shown because Brenda physically restrained me before I could bolt for the back door.

“Calm, Chloe. Your mother is getting a little ahead of herself. Why don’t we backtrack a bit, like to the part where you brought both because, really, for a girl who claims she doesn’t want any men, you’ve got an awfully odd way of showing it.”

“It just kind of happened. First Anthony showed up with flowers and while I was recovering from a sneezing fit, Pete showed up. Funny how he knew where I lived.” I paused to glare at my mother, who averted her gaze, scrubbing at a nonexistent spot on the counter. “One thing led to another and next thing I knew, they were toe-to-toe, about to throw punches. I panicked and I invited Anthony to join us. Then before I could change my mind, I was sandwiched between them—”

“Ooh my favorite position,” Brenda gushed.

“I agree,” seconded my mother.

Interrupted, I adopted my sternest look. I’d long ago gotten over my gag reflex for when they said shocking things. “You guys are impossible. And, Mom, for future reference, that was too much information.”

“How did I ever raise such a repressed daughter?”

“Just because I like my fun in single digits doesn’t make me repressed. Once upon a time, the majority of the population felt the same way. Or have you forgotten our history?”

“Just doing my part for my country.” Mother beamed.

“Um, Mom, you do know that I’m aware you were involved in a threesome before the laws came into effect?”

“What can I say? I’m a trendsetter.”

Can anyone say messed-up childhood? When other kids went to school and lamented their single-parent homes, I confused the hell out of my teachers trying to explain the fact that I had an extra father.

Despite my lack of religious belief, I’m ashamed to say, I did use the Mormon religion as my defense when teachers or classmates pried too closely. When the polygamous laws came into effect, my sigh of relief at no longer having to make up excuses for my odd lifestyle could probably be heard around the world.

“Okay, so if you’re not planning to keep them both, then who are you keeping? Is this some kind of test?” Brenda ate the last cookie before I could nab it. Thankfully, Mother had fudge cooling in the fridge so I didn’t have to wrestle her for it.

“I guess. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. What do you think? Which one do you like better?” Because, honestly, if I had to choose right at that very moment, I probably would have a brain aneurism.

“Well, Pete’s got that down-to-earth thing going for him,” Brenda noted.

“But he also looks like he’s an outdoor lover, which we all know doesn’t agree with Chloe.”

Mother and my BFF stared at me. It put me on the defensive. “Hey, it’s not my fault I’m allergic to nature.” More like nature hated me. Between sneezing and hives, I tended to gravitate to indoor activities.

“Anthony, on the other hand, seems more like the cerebral type and they do have the law thing in common.”

“But they work together and he’s the kind of guy who likes to have his clothes ironed.” Brenda knew my dislike of all things related to laundry. “He’d probably insist on folding clothes.”

Perhaps he did, but he also didn’t mind having them torn off. However, I didn’t share that tidbit. I still wondered how he’d made it back to his car without getting arrested for indecent exposure, given what we’d done to his poor suit.

“You act like I’m a slob. I iron my clothes. Kind of.”

“Hanging them in the shower so you can steam them while you bathe is not ironing,” Brenda pointed out.

“Shoving them in a drawer or closet out of sight also doesn’t count as folding. It’s barely even putting away,” mother added.

“So what you’re getting at is neither is right for me.” I didn’t know if I should sigh in relief or pout because they’d eliminated them both as prospects.

“No. See what I mean about always assuming the worst?” Brenda spoke to my mom, and I frowned.

“Have you been talking about me?”

“Of course we have, dear. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Well, keep it up and let me know what you come up with because the coffee’s ready, the dads have tortured the men long enough, and if we don’t get this fudge out there, I won’t be responsible for the empty plate.” It took a little shuffling, but I managed to hide the dent I’d made in the pile of chocolatey goodness.

We rejoined the guys to find them all getting along superbly well, even my two dates. They both stood and smiled at my entrance. Talk about a double whammy. Side by side, one slightly taller and wider than the other, they tempted me. Drew me. Made all thoughts of choosing melt into obscurity.

I wanted them both.

So, of course, being stubborn, I decided then and there I’d rather have neither.

Any man, or men, who could so frazzle me should earn a spot far, far away from me.

Later.

For the moment, I got sucked into the loveseat vortex between them where my hormones went crazy, probably from the excess chocolate and where I didn’t protest when they each placed a possessive hand on my thighs. Slapping them would just fuel the amusement already happening at my expense.

The wine kept flowing, easing me, the conversation kept going, and I enjoyed myself.

A buzz against my hip saw my lawyer escort excusing himself for a moment as he took a call. Pete took advantage of the moment and slid his arm around the top of my shoulders, hugging me to his side. Fuzzy with wine, I allowed it. It did feel nice, even if it was kind of possessive.

Anthony reappeared in the doorway and signaled me. I slid out from Pete’s grasp and went to see him.

“What’s up? You look annoyed.”

“Because I am. I have to leave.”

“Work?”

“Of a sorts.”

I shouldn’t care if he had to leave, but a part of me did wilt in disappointment. I pretended nonchalance. “No biggie.”

“To you maybe.” Anthony shot a dark glare at Pete, and I realized that this evening was a façade.

Despite him and Pete acting as if they didn’t mind sharing my attention, they did. Say what you would, jealousy was hot, and I was not immune to the flattery of it.

“I had fun.” I blamed the alcohol for admitting it aloud.

“So did I.”

“Even though my dads grilled you?”

“Because they did. It’s obvious they love you very much. Your family is great.”

“Yeah they are. I’m sure yours is too.”

“I have no family.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He appeared startled. “Why?”

“Because it must have sucked losing your parents.”

He shrugged. “It happened so long ago I don’t even recall them. You can’t miss something you never truly had.” His phone buzzed again in his hand, insistently. He sighed. “I really hate that I have to leave. This wasn’t how I’d planned the evening.”

“I don’t think this is what anyone planned for their evening,” I added with a wry smile.

It earned me a chuckle. I saw Anthony to the door, his reluctance at leaving evident, if inexplicable. I’d made him spend the evening with my parents, crazy BFF, and a guy who made no bones about the fact he wanted in my pants. Anthony should have been looking for an excuse to escape hours ago.

“I wish I didn’t have to go.” Lo and behold, he sounded sincere.

“Hey, duty calls and all that.” The joys of being a lawyer. Crime never slept, or behaved. Good thing, or I’d be out of a job.

“I want to see you again.”

I played dumb. “I’m sure something will come up in front of a judge.”

“Not for work. Before that. I want to take you on a date. A real one with just you and me.”

“Why?” Couldn’t we just skip to the sex and ignore all the other mumbo jumbo?

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“I like you, Chloe Bailey. Probably more than I should.”

As proclamations went, it was cute, even if he said it almost apologetically. But I didn’t have time to ponder his meaning. He brushed his lips over mine.

Mmm, instant flames licked between my thighs. My mouth parted, my tongue found his, my fingers clutched his suited shoulders—

His groin buzzed against my hip.

“Damn phone,” he muttered against my mouth.

“You should go.” Before I had my way with him on the front step.

“I’ll call you.”

I should have said no; after all, I still didn’t like Anthony. Insert loud buzzing noise and a sign flashing False.

Despite his dominance over me in the workplace, I could no longer say with deep conviction that I hated him. Damn it. I think I even liked him. Or at least enjoyed how he made my body feel.

Bzzzt! There went the false sign flashing again. Okay, okay, I also liked him on a social level, something the evening had just proved. The jury, however, remained hung on the whole, should I date him or not. Not to mention there was still a hulking werewolf in the living room behind me, looking to stake a claim on my pussy, something he clearly hadn’t forgotten.

“I don’t suppose I can ask you to take a cab home?” Anthony asked, his tone hopeful.

I arched a brow. “Do you really think that’s going to happen?”

He chuckled. “Probably not. And, just so you know, despite the dog who insists on slobbering all over you, I will be calling you.”

He would? Hey, wait a second. Did he just give me permission to sleep with Pete?

Before I could ask or blast him for his temerity in thinking he had a say, after another hard kiss, he left.

A sleek black sedan sat at the end of my parents’ driveway, and Anthony paused to stare at me before sliding into the back. Figured he’d have a chauffeur to pick him up.

I watched the taillights speed off into the night, unsure of my feelings toward him. Unsure of what I wanted from him—other than more great sex.

“Hey, Chloe, are you going to come back in anytime soon?” Brenda shouted.

Which reminded me, I still had another six-foot dilemma to deal with.

When did my life get so complicated?