I’m not sure what’s more terrifying. Meeting Robert Stephenson to begin with… or meeting him after I’ve done unspeakable things with his three sons. All on the same day of meeting him.

In any case, I’m not feeling entirely calm and calculated as I sit in the cozy little nook off the lavish dinner lounge, barely secluded enough to be called private. Dinner service ended a long time ago and the only things opened around the resort are the bars, but that doesn’t seem to bother Robert Stephenson any.

After all, he’s the guy who scheduled the meeting at the stroke of midnight.

I can’t help but yawn, tapping my fingertips on the folder I have with me. It’s been a long day, both more relaxing than I could have expected due to the absolutely explosive orgasms I’ve received, and entirely exhausting for the same reasons.

Robert Stephenson steps in, pulling the sliding glass door shut behind him, just as I’m in mid-yawn. Of course.

“You must be the little shark Milan sent after me,” he says cheerfully, sitting down across from me in a wicker chair, nursing a glass of whiskey.

Considering the flush on his cheeks and neck, I’m pretty sure it isn’t his first one. But it’s also obvious that he isn’t inebriated enough to not be accountable for his words – just in a bit of a better mood than he may have otherwise been, I guess. Then again, I’ve been taught not to assume anything.

If I would have heeded that, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up in the arms of three men, who all happen to be brothers, in the course of one day.

Maybe.

“I am,” I say, moving to rise from my chair to shake his hand.

He motions me to sit back and we shake across the table, sharing warm smiles. His grip is firm and tight, not an ounce of hesitation.

I’m not surprised by it, having some, ahem, close relations with the men he’s raised lately.

“My name is Lily Morris and as you know I’m here on behalf of-“

“Stop right there,” he says, putting the glass on the table and leaning back comfortably, eyeing me with some amusement.

I can see where Austin gets his hawkish gaze.

“I know who you are, honey, and I know why you’re here. Do you know why I’m here?” he asks, waving around himself vaguely.

I frown.

I’m not sure if I’m equipped to play mind games at midnight, but I guess I’m going to have to take a crack at it.

“Because you’re interested in ironing out the details of your settlement before your next wedding?” I ask.

It sounds more tentative than I’d like, but I put on a straight face and roll with it. This day has thrown me enough curveballs. I’m deciding to take the situation by the horns and try and make my future interactions go in the direction I want them to.

Starting with this one. I can’t control his sons, but maybe I can at least coax Robert Stephenson in the right direction.

He laughs outright and I can feel my temper flaring at that. I’ve had enough crotchety old men not take me seriously to last me a lifetime, I’m not about to let another one have a go at me.

“I don’t see what’s funny about that,” I say icily.

Robert quiets his laughter to a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“You have to understand something,” he says, leaning closer and prompting me to do the same, as if he’s about to share some grave secret with me. “I don’t fucking care if I get this divorce through or not.”

He falls back, obviously satisfied with the expression flashing across my face. What the fuck?

“With all due respect, Mister Stephenson, if you do not get a divorce from Milan Raleigh-Stephenson, you will not be eligible to marry someone else. Neither the State of Hawaii, nor any other state in the nation, endorses polygamy.”

He chuckles again, grabbing his whiskey and taking a sip. I wait patiently.

Pointing at the folder in my hands, holding the most recent draft of the divorce agreement already signed by Milan, he starts again.

“You see, that piece of paper has no meaning to me. Milan wants me to sign it, and I don’t want to. So I won’t. I am perfectly fine with simply having the ceremony here and legalizing the union at a later date.”

He doesn’t add ‘a date that would be more annoying for Milan’, but that’s how I interpret it.

“I understood that the details of the settlement had been thoroughly vetted by both parties, the documentation refers to that and Milan Raleigh-Stephenson-“

“Just call her Milan,” Robert says, a note of boredom etching into his tone.

“Fine. Milan attested to that as well. May I ask, what has changed? Is there a specific point that you would like to discuss?”

As much as Milan wants this to be over with fast, I do too. The sooner I have these papers signed, the sooner I can get out of here. Get away from the three men I should not be daydreaming about, let alone meeting… or allowing them to go down on me or fingerfuck me. None of that is okay and I’m pretty sure that the longer I stay here, the more I’m going to think that it’s a kind of normalcy I could get used to.

“Nope,” he says cheerfully, kicking back the last of his whiskey. “All I wanted to tell you is that I am very happy you could make it to my happy occasion, and to relay to Milan that if she wants to get rid of me, she’s going to have to do it herself.”

“Are you implying that you would like her to attend the ceremony?” I ask tentatively.

There’s a gleam of mischief in his eyes and I recognize it as the mirror image of the way Austin looked at me the moment we decided to run from the librarian instead of staying there to face the consequences.

I know it can only mean trouble.

“So you give her a call. Tell her to bring Candice with her as well. And enjoy the festivities, honey. It’s on me.”

He stands up, winks at me, and strolls out of the makeshift meeting room like this conversation never even happened, or at least like he already forgot about it. I’m left feeling just as confused as I am every time I part ways with a Stephenson, but this time for a whole other reason.

Seriously, what the hell is going on with the men in this family? Can none of them take the easy way out!?

I think I already know the answer.