The Ariana was missing from the cove when Liv threw her drapes back on Tuesday morning. In just a little over a week, she’d grown accustomed to seeing the ship. Had gotten a jolt of excitement over knowing Nate and Tristan were as close as a quick boat ride across the harbor.

Now, a distinct sadness—loneliness—crept in on her that they weren’t in Bayfront. They were out of her reach once again.

That prompted her to give Fallon’s request a shot. She contacted Ev, and while the band had a weekend festival gig confirmed, they were available Friday night.

Liv chose to take that as a sign. She was in desperate need of some positive ones these days.

Unfortunately, her agent phoned to remind her that she was on deadline to make a decision about New York and a band. The pressure sat heavy in her chest but she surged forward with launching Fallon’s yacht club lounge.

Liv immersed herself in practicing with Defiant and getting used to the acoustics in the enormous restaurant, which were phenomenal, and the entire layout of the stage and the room in general. There was a playlist to narrow down, outfits to select, shoes and accessories, hair and makeup . . . And promo. Lots of promo, because Fallon had opted to open the usually members-only club to the community for a one-time opportunity following the private rehearsal dinner, and she wanted to pack them in for Liv’s “debut.” And perhaps secure more memberships.

In addition to the club springing for Defiant to stay in town to work with Liv, the Marketing and PR team promoted the restaurant and the headlining act. Naturally, that entailed photo shoots and personal appearances around town, where Liv and the band members handed out flyers.

It wasn’t until late Friday afternoon that she took a real break—for the wedding rehearsal at Nick’s mansion.

Liv joined Fallon, Roxy, and Sylvia in an upstairs suite, hanging her gown on the rack with the others. Everything was set for tomorrow’s real-deal and it was nice to know she wouldn’t have to rush and accidentally spill anything on her stunning bridesmaid dress.

Chloe’s gown was to be delivered first thing in the morning by Ruby so she could make any last-minute alterations. Liv was impressed that Chloe wasn’t freaking out too much over the fact that the most sensational dress she would ever wear wasn’t yet in sight.

As the ladies stood at the railing at the top of the curving marble staircase Chloe would descend for her grand entrance, Liv gazed at the landing below.

Nate and Tristan were at the altar with the rest of the groomsmen and John.

She was relieved they’d made it back in time. They’d called her during the week to say they had some new plans to discuss with her, and she was curious as to what that entailed—but mostly . . . she was jonesing for them both in the worst way.

Nate wore a lightweight black sweater, pants, and boots, his dark hair a tousled mess, his grass-green eyes glowing warmly under the enormous chandelier as he and Tristan chatted it up with Nick and Hunter.

Tristan was a blond Adonis in a sky-blue dress shirt that set off his mesmerizing irises, the fit of the shirt complementing his sculpted muscles.

She sighed.

Beside her, Sylvia said, “The Junior League is hosting a luncheon for Nate and Tristan on Sunday afternoon. You know, the observatory closed down a few years ago when Thomas Hadley passed away and no one stepped in to revive it. Nate and Tristan purchased it from the Hadley estate. They’re launching a weekend and afterschool science program there, and they’ll also host science camps in the summer. They’re reopening the observatory once they’ve upgraded all of the equipment.”

Fallon added, “I heard from the Soroptimist ladies that Nate and Tristan reinstated the scholarships that had gotten them into Bayfront Academy. The funding had fallen by the wayside a while back, along with the science programs. Your two gentlemen are going to grant full rides to ten kids next semester. And that’s just a starting point, from what I understand.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Liv asked, curious.

With a noncommittal shrug, Fallon said, “Just thought you should be aware that they’re planting stakes in the community.”

Liv didn’t have time to ruminate over that—the bridal consultant was heading their way, and Liv needed to focus on her role in the wedding. She, Fallon, and Sylvia took the service elevator downstairs as they would do the following day after they’d dressed. Their entrance was from the side of the staircase, coming from the study. They’d walk the long aisle runner that would be rolled out tomorrow and covered with lavender and white rose petals. The elegant silver Chivari chairs with crisp white cushions were already set out, but the tulle and satin accents wouldn’t be added until the morning, along with the candles and the flowers.

Oh, God, the flowers!

Tova Presley had overseen the growth of various blooms in her solarium for the florist to create spectacular arrangements for the ceremony and the reception. Liv couldn’t wait to see the outcome.

She took her cue from the wedding planner and started down the aisle. She concentrated on looking straight ahead as directed, but found it impossible not to steal glances at Nate and Tristan. Heat flashed through her and she bit back a smile—trying to appear serious, rather than insanely turned on by the mere sight of them.

At the altar, she stood off to the side and watched as Fallon made her way down the aisle. They were then joined by Sylvia.

A minute or so passed before the music changed and Chloe ascended the stairs. Liv wouldn’t let her friend see that her attention was diverted for even a second, but her thoughts were mostly on Nate and Tristan. She couldn’t help herself. She’d missed them all week. It was a stronger, more significant sensation than in the past because of what they’d recently shared, how their relationship had evolved over the last two weeks, and her own acknowledgement of her feelings for them.

When the rehearsal was over, the guys were whisked away in a stretch Hummer and the ladies in a sleek Mercedes limo, giving Liv a slight reprieve from her preoccupation with Nate and Tristan.

On the way to the yacht club, Chloe dabbed at her eyes with tissues, saying over and over, “I have to cry this all out tonight. I can’t be teary-eyed for the wedding. Or the pictures. This just won’t do!”

Sylvia draped an arm around her. “Trust me, you can’t cry this out. You will be weepy, sweetie. It’s inevitable. You’re marrying an amazing man, and good Lord! The setting and the dresses are going to be insanely beautiful. Everyone will cry.”

“And everyone will be talking about this wedding for months and months,” Fallon gushed. “I can’t wait to see the decorations and the grounds tomorrow night. Nick said he brought in two additional landscaping crews who have been working full time the past few weeks for this event.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t let us see the dress,” Liv told Chloe.

“You guys will fall out of your chairs,” Chloe assured them. “Oh, wait. You won’t be sitting.”

The girls laughed.

Liv said, “I have no doubt you’ll leave jaws on the floor.”

“It’ll be the gown,” Chloe told them. “Really, it would turn Cinderella green with envy.”

Chloe wouldn’t even describe it. Wouldn’t give the slightest clue as to what the dress looked like, and that made her bridesmaids and maid of honor all the more intrigued—and chomping at the bit for a glimpse.

When they reached the club, Chloe thanked Fallon profusely for working so hard to get the new restaurant and lounge up and running in time for the rehearsal dinner. John’s relatives had already arrived, and Sylvia hadn’t been lying when she’d said he came from a big brood, despite him being an only child. Chloe would never again lack for family. Or friends.

The festivities got underway with appetizers and socializing. Liv didn’t have to search for Nate and Tristan—they immediately sought her out.

She hugged both men and said, “I heard about the observatory and the academy scholarships. You’re certainly taking the town by storm.”

“Just trying to do our part,” Tristan said with a grin.

Nate told her, “We’d intended on funding the programs whether we moved back to Bayfront or not. They meant a lot to us when we were kids, and we never would have gotten into the academy without financial assistance.”

“Good deeds are worth kisses,” she said, and planted one on their cheeks.

“Just a peck?” Nate asked with a crooked brow.

She laughed softly. “Well, I don’t want to make too big a scene. I plan to do that later when I’m on stage.”

“We’re looking forward to that,” Tristan said. “Then we can talk.”

Liv’s stomach knotted. She was now only two days away from having to say yes or no to New York. But she couldn’t let her mind drift. She needed to give this option a chance. And, in truth, she could hardly wait to break in Fallon’s new stage.

Dinner was a lively affair, followed by decadent desserts that Liv bypassed. Painfully so. But in addition to her bridesmaid dress, she had a tight little red number to fit into tonight. Mostly, though, she didn’t have much of an appetite as anticipation hummed in her veins—along with a sexual charge as she sat between Nate and Tristan. The former rested his hand on her bare thigh under the table. The latter draped an arm along the back of her chair.

She inhaled both their expensive-smelling colognes, their distinct scents, and that sent her into sensory overload more so than the crème brûlée would have.

While dessert was being cleared away and the doors were opening to the throng waiting outside the lounge, Liv ducked into the dressing room Fallon had designated for her and changed clothes.

She fluffed her plump curls and added a dab of gloss to her crimson-colored lips. The electric current continued to flow through her, though now it rode a hint of nerves over this being a full showcase of what she was capable of—she wasn’t just a guest singer with Defiant. She was a co-lead and had numerous solos in the set.

But it was more than that. She’d already gotten a taste of what it was like to perform in front of her friends, as well as Nate and Tristan. This evening’s performance held a heavier weight because if it didn’t feel right on that stage, if lightning didn’t strike, she’d know what her true destiny was.

Yet Liv would give this night everything she had—and that made exhilaration chase away the anxiety. She left the dressing room and joined her temporary band on the stage, marveling over the standing-room only attendance.

The rush through her veins intensified. These people were here to see her.

“You ready to do this?” Ev asked.

Liv’s gaze flashed to the thick of people congregated on the dance floor and she found Nate and Tristan front and center.

Her heart fluttered. Excitement ribboned through her. She tore her gaze from them and said, “Yeah. I’m totally ready to do this.”

The band launched into Heart’s “Barracuda” to get the energy pumping, followed by some popular dance songs, then one of Liv’s originals. The response was through the roof. So she performed another. And another.

Confident she’d found her true calling, she was perfectly okay with more cover tunes everyone could dance and sing to, but not a soul left the dance floor when she sang her own music.

They demanded more with encore after encore.

She could have stayed on that stage forever. But as it inched toward two o’clock in the morning, a different yearning took over. Not the need to hear the roar of the crowd or keep people on their feet. But the overwhelming desire to be with her two men. Even a few nights away from them had, she realized, been a few nights too many.

She and the band finally said their goodnights to their audience and then Liv joined Nate and Tristan.

They had huge hugs for her but were edged out by Fallon and Liv’s other friends, who all wanted to congratulate her.

Fallon said, “You owned that stage! Oh, my God! You were sensational!”

Liv accepted more accolades and hugs, then squeezed through the throng to get back to Nate and Tristan.

“You’ve incited a mob,” Tristan joked.

“And I am loving every minute of this!” Liv could barely breathe. This was the response she’d been craving. This was the wave she’d wanted to ride. This was . . . perfect.

But there was one more thing she had to do. A decision had to be made.

She took Nate and Tristan by the hand and led them out to a quiet corner on the patio, though there was still an overflow of people continuing to enjoy the food and drink.

She hugged them both again—fiercely. And said, “I missed you both. So, so much!”

“Liv, you were absolutely right to follow this dream,” Nate insisted. “Sweetheart—you were astounding. You belong on a stage and—”

“Wait—there’s something I have to say,” she told them. “Right this very moment, while I’m having one of the best nights of my entire life. I have to tell you . . .” Her hands flailed a bit as the emotion ignited within her and everything she felt for them collided with the energy radiating from her performance. “I don’t really know how to say this. I mean, I’ve never really said it before—not in this context. Not like this.”

Tristan eyed her quizzically, then knowingly as a smile split his lips.

Liv blurted, “I love you! I love you both!”

“That’s all we needed to know,” Nate said.

Her gaze narrowed on him.

Tristan told her, “You need to go to New York and see this through, Liv.”

She blinked. “Did you not just hear what I said?”

Nate chuckled. “Loud and clear. And you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to hear us say it back, because I think you’ve always known that’s how we feel about you. How we’ll always feel about you.”

“Which is why we want you to go to New York,” Tristan insisted.

“But I’ll be far away from you again,” she argued.

“Not if you don’t want to be,” Nate offered. “The work we’ve done here won’t go to waste. But we can replicate it on the East Coast.”

“You mean you’d go to New York as well?” she asked, shocked. “Establish your North American operations there instead of San Francisco?”

“Yes,” Tristan said.

“But you wanted to come home—to Bayfront.”

“What we wanted,” Nate explained, “was to be with you. When we follow our dreams, Liv, our hearts . . . they lead straight to you.”

“Nate,” she said on a rush of air, tears prickling the backs of her eyes. “You would go wherever I went?”

“In a heartbeat,” Tristan assured her. “From here on out—if that’s what you want.”

“Know that means so much to me,” she told them as teardrops crested the rims of her eyes.

“You mean so much to us,” Nate said.

Liv fanned her face with a hand. This night was getting better and better. She never would have asked them to move on her account. Knowing they would, though . . . that made her fall even more in love with them.

But . . .

She brushed the backs of her fingers along her cheek to whisk away some of the tears.

Liv said, “I don’t want you to move to New York.”

Tristan’s grin faded. Nate shifted from one booted foot to the other, confusion clouding his gorgeous green eyes.

Liv hastily said, “If you did, we’d still be on opposite coasts.”

“Wait . . . What is it that you want?” Tristan cautiously asked.

With a smile, Liv told them, “I want to stay in Bayfront. This is my home and I love it here. I want to form my own band and be the yacht club’s in-house performer. I want to be on that stage every night—or close to that. I want to be surrounded by my friends and the ocean. Mostly . . . I want you. Both of you. Right here with me.”

Nate swept her into his strong arms and held her tightly. She kissed him. A long, passionate kiss—and Liv didn’t give a damn who saw. When Nate released her, Tristan embraced her and she let his kiss sear her the way Nate’s had. If they set the rumor mill on fire, who the hell cared?

This three-way love affair had been a long, long time in the making. And Liv had a niggling suspicion everyone in Bayfront already knew that.