Meg leaned forward to peer out the passenger-side windshield as the GPS announced they had arrived. “This is it!”

“Thank God.” Mindy groaned from the back seat as Kayla pulled the car onto the gravel driveway leading to their vacation destination. “I’m so sick and tired of thinking about that shit. I need some peace and quiet.”

That shit had all three friends unable to sleep, overcome by exhaustion. Their hole-in-the-wall art studio had been broken into and vandalized the week before. Not a single one of Meg’s paintings and boxes of supplies, Kayla’s sketches, or Mindy’s pottery had escaped harm. No leads pointed toward a suspect, either.

“Sandy Ridge Cove.” Meg’s gaze flitted over the A-frame cabin in the fading sunlight and the setting sun glinting off the water beyond, determined to leave their problems back at home in their three-bedroom apartment. Tan with dark trim and overshadowed by towering trees, the house nestled within a small grove of barely blooming lilac bushes.

“I thought there were two houses in the cove?” Kayla said while putting her new Equinox into park.

“There is.” Meg grabbed her purse from between her feet and climbed from the car, pushing her mousy brown braid over her shoulder. She could just make out glimpses of the neighboring cabin to the left.

It must have rained earlier. Drips of water fell from the oak and maple leaves overhead. The scent of damp, fallen leaves from the year before filled her lungs as she inhaled. The few lilacs that had bloomed in the understory didn’t lend enough divine scent to reach her nose.

Maybe I will find some peace here…

The sound of the trunk popping open turned Meg around.

“What the hell did you put in here?” Kayla asked, thumping Meg’s suitcase onto the gravel driveway, a frown indenting the skin between her dark brows.

“The new painting supplies I bought two days ago.”

“Tell me you remembered to bring underwear.” Mindy laughed and grabbed her own gym bag.

Meg ignored her friend and pulled up the handle on her suitcase before accepting her folding easel’s carry bag from Kayla’s outstretched hand. She started toward the cabin they had rented for the week, but the rollers sank into the sand alongside the driveway. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought so much, she thought, hefting it up in her left hand. The bag thumped into her shin, bringing a grimace to her lips and probably a black and blue spot rising to mark her leg.

Mindy laughed again and moved around her, light steps bouncing the soft, golden blonde waves falling over her shoulders.

Meg blew a strand of hair that had escaped her long braid out of her eyes. “Key is hanging behind the welcome bear,” she said, stepping up onto the front stoop behind her friend and eyeing the carved wooden bear that stood at least four feet tall beside the front door.

Mindy fished a hand along the wooden siding behind the bear’s head. “Where?”

Meg shrugged as Kayla climbed the steps behind her. “Gage didn’t say in our last email. Check the sign he’s holding.”

“Welcome to Sandy Cove” had been carved into the rectangle sign grasped in the bear’s paws.

“Gage...” Mindy licked her lips. “What a fuck-a-licious name. He’s gotta be hot.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “The sign?”

“Bingo.” Mindy lifted a single key high, her pale green eyes sparkling. It had been her idea to head north into the woods, leaving Boston, their current problem, and the heartaches they had recently experienced behind.

One broken heart, one layoff, and Meg’s own mother whose driving under the influence had finally taken her life.

At least Mindy with her beauty and Victoria Secret body would eventually find another man, and Kayla’s daddy could help her out until she found another job.

Meg’s mother could never be replaced.

A lump rose in her throat as she walked into the cabin behind Mindy, but she swallowed it down, determined to keep all tears locked up tight. God knows, she’d allowed more than enough to fall in the three months since the accident.

Every morning she woke to bags hanging beneath her plain brown eyes, and she’d yet to find a way to erase or hide them.

“Loft is mine!” Kayla reminded her two friends from behind as they started down the short hallway.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mindy peeked into the bedroom on the right. “The green room!” She wheeled through the doorway, and Meg turned toward the open door on her left.

Her friends had chosen their bedrooms when checking out the pictures of the rental online, but Meg hadn’t really cared…she’d just wanted to get away from the city, their problems, and the grief still clutching her heart with its sharp talons.

Eyes stinging, Meg rolled her suitcase into the smallest of the three bedrooms. A fluffy, plaid throw lay folded at the bed’s end. Meg hefted her suitcase onto the blue comforter covering the double bed, her attention flitting to the lone window and fading sunrise to the west that shot streaks of violet through the treetops to the right.

The other A-frame cabin lay a hundred or so yards away, its red wooden siding peeking through the trees between the two houses. Warm light shone from one of the open windows.

Other renters, it appeared, but thankfully, not too close.

She unzipped her suitcase and quickly transferred her clothing into the dresser beside the bedroom door. Shorts and T-shirts for daytime, leggings and long-sleeve shirts for the cooler spring nights around the fire pit. Crocks, slippers, and an extra pair of Old Navy flip flops tumbled into a pile as she tossed them pair by pair onto the wooden floor to the right of the window.

The boxes of painting supplies, however, she carefully sat atop the dresser. While her friends had plans to explore the White Mountains and shop for hours at the countless outlets, Meg had every intention of spending her time in the wilderness surrounding them, painting, and hopefully, clearing her mind and easing the ache in her chest.

Even though her mother had started drinking heavily and popping unnecessary pills four years earlier when Meg’s parents had split, they’d had a close relationship. Meg’s ears had been filled with more information than she wanted to know about their broken marriage, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen or talked to a sober and sensible mother. How many times had Meg begged her to get help? How many times had she hidden her mother’s keys?

The failed intervention Meg had dished hard-earned money out for had done nothing but put a wedge between the two women. One month after leaving the rehab clinic, Meg’s mother had swerved into oncoming traffic. She’d been killed instantly.

Meg blew a breath between her lips and grabbed the throw off the end of the bed. “No more living in the past,” she reminded herself as she did every day. “Time to move on.”

And time for wine, too, she thought, stuffing her empty suitcase into the bedroom’s tiny closet.

* * *

Relaxed in an Adirondack chair beside the crackling flames rising from the fire pit, Meg focused on breathing deep, imagining cleansing her grief-flooded blood with each oxygen-rich inhale.

“Shit.” Kayla sighed and stretched out in her chair, the fire glinting off her dark eyes. “I could eat like ten of those suckers.”

“You and me, both,” Mindy said with a light laugh.

Even though they were gluten-free graham crackers, the two s’mores Meg had eaten sat like a rock in her stomach. Too much chocolate and two marshmallows on each. She rubbed a hand across her stomach beneath the plaid blanket covering her lap. “If I go to make myself another s’more this week, slap me upside the head. Ugh.”

Kayla snickered. “More wine is always good for the bloat.”

“Hmm. I think I’ve had enough of that, too,” Meg said with a heavy sigh.

The low hum of a motor reached her ears, growing louder and eventually cutting out.

“Oh, hell-o.”

Meg lifted her head from its resting place against the back of the chair and turned her attention toward the left where Mindy focused. A small boat pulled up to the neighbor’s dock, and one of the two men hopped out, bringing to life the motion-sensor light at the peak of their A-frame. He bent to tie the boat, his ass showcased by tight jeans.

A whisper of arousal slid over Meg’s skin for the first time in months.

“Damn,” Kayla said with a giggle. She’d already polished off three beers while Meg and Mindy shared a bottle of Riesling in the hour they’d been sitting outside.

“Mmm,” Meg agreed, her gaze flitting back and forth between the two men as she absently sipped from her wine glass. Both trim but fit, one light, one darker.

Mindy fluttered her fingers as the two men looked their way.

They both waved before heading up the gentle slope to the similar back patio behind their cabin and the four Adirondack chair circling their cold fire pit.

“Wonder if there’s a third hiding out in there,” Kayla said, eyeing the A-frame more visible from where the three women sat.

“You two are welcome to them,” Meg said, shifting on her chair to ease the sudden ache between her thighs and pulling the lap blanket up over one shoulder while returning her attention to the placid, dark water of the small cove. “Hooking up with some random guy is the last thing on my mind.”

Mindy snorted. “A quick fling is exactly what I need.”

“Fucking some random stranger isn’t what you need right now,” Kayla said matter-of-factly in her usual no-nonsense way.

“It’s exactly what I need right now. Two would be even better. Wonder if they’d be up for a threesome?” Mindy reached for the near-empty wine bottle on the small table between her and Meg. “Want me to open another?” she asked while pouring the last of the white into her own glass.

“I’m good.” Meg eyed the dim outline of the mountain across from their cove, ignoring the image Mindy’s wondering had brought to mind of her number one fantasy from their college days. Two men lavishing attention on one woman. Two sets of hands. Two mouths and tongues…

Even though her grief still overshadowed her emotions, her body thrummed with arousal at the vivid thoughts in her head. She shifted again, frowning. Considering the last four years, a threesome was the last thing that should turn her on.

Mindy giggled. “Got your mind going, didn’t I?”

Shrugging, Meg sipped her wine.

“God,” Mindy continued. “I would love to have two at once.”

“Double penetration?” Kayla asked even though they’d had the bucket list conversation a few times already.

“What’s the point of being with two guys if you don’t?”

“No thank you.” Kayla crossed her legs. “My ass hole has an exit only sign.”

“What about you, Meg?” Mindy asked, turning toward Meg.

“Two cocks shoved deep inside,” Kayla said before Meg could answer, “moving in perfect rhythm, hitting every secret spot.”

Mindy giggled again. “Sounds like you’ve been fantasizing lately.”

“Not me,” Kayla said. “Just repeating Meg’s fantasy.”

“Number one fantasy from before,” Meg said, pressing her thighs together. “But like I said, you’re welcome to those two.” She forced her mind on how the sunrise would bathe the swells and indents leading to the mountain’s peak and what brushes and colors would perhaps bring the painting to life.

“Sorry,” Mindy mumbled. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Meg shrugged again.

“Maybe you’re right, Mindy,” Kayla said a few seconds later. “Maybe fucking your way through a dozen or so poor guys will take your mind off Tim.”

“Bastard,” Mindy grumbled, bitterness lacing the word. Her fiancé—or ex, rather—had dumped her four months before their wedding for another woman—Wendy fucking Franklin of all people, one of their college friends from years earlier. Venue booked, DJ hired, dresses bought and altered, the four-tiered lemon-yellow fondant cake on order…Meg would have been bitter, too.

“Tomorrow is supposed to be the best day of the week,” Meg said on the cusp of a yawn, wanting to take everyone’s minds back to where they had agreed beforehand to focus on. Vacation and finding a little peace. “You’re going to save the outlets for later in the week, right?”

“Vitamin D day tomorrow, for sure.” Kayla sat her empty beer bottle on the ground alongside the other two. “I need to get my tan on.”

“Shit.” Mindy drew the word out. “I forgot my sunscreen.”

Meg glanced over at Mindy and her pale, pale skin glowing in the firelight. “Way to go, Lobster.”

Kayla snorted on laughter, and a smile curved Meg’s lips for the first time in weeks as Mindy glared at them. “Not funny anymore.” She glowered, and Meg actually laughed, the foreign sensation of happiness hazing her vision.

Mindy had forgotten her sunscreen the previous summer while the three had vacationed in early August in Ogunquit and didn’t bother buying any for their first day at the beach. Reddened to a crisp, Mindy had gained her new—and hated—nickname.

“Think you’d have learned your lesson last year,” Kayla said with another snort of laughter.

“Bitch,” Mindy grumbled and stood. She stomped in her flip flops across the pavers toward the cabin while Meg and Kayla fought to contain their laughter. “I’m going to crack open and dump every single one of your precious IPA’s!” Mindy shot over her shoulder at Kayla.

The door slammed shut, and Kayla hopped to her feet and hurried after her. “Don’t you dare, you bitch!”

“Meg’s lucky we share a love of Riesling!” Mindy’s muffled holler traveled through the cool mountain air. “Or hers would be going down the drain, too!”

Too exhausted to raise her voice loud enough either woman would hear, Meg whispered, her smile fading, “You can use my sunscreen.”

The door slammed shut behind Kayla, the sparks shooting up from the fire breaking the still twilight that closed in on Meg. Best friends since middle school and throughout their years at BU College of Fine Arts, the three often bickered, but all in fun, rarely with true anger. Wendy fucking Franklin, however, hadn’t been able to handle their friendly banter. After two years of rooming together, Mindy told her without preamble that she needed to move out of their apartment.

College life breezed by afterward, and without Mindy and Kayla, Meg would have floundered a hell of a lot more in her grief than she had the last couple of months.

Meg tipped her wine glass and finished the last two swallows. Pulling herself off the Adirondack, she turned her mind once more to the paints and brushes on the dresser. Her escape, her peace. The innate images she created on canvas earned her a meager living—or had until the vandalism—but more importantly, offered beauty to those who looked upon them.

Now, if she could just find some way to break down the shroud of grief smothering her creative side.

* * *

“What’s wrong with them?” Mindy asked with a huff.

Meg propped up on her elbows from where she lay stretched out between her friends tanning on the dock and checked out the two men as they swam toward shore, side by side. Country music drifted from Kayla’s phone, but Meg ignored the background noise as she focused on the two fine specimens cutting through the water in perfect harmony.

They had been swimming for over a half-hour, and neither one had seemed to notice Mindy prancing around in her tiny bikini before they had dived off the end of their dock.

“Maybe they like brunettes better,” Meg told her yet again, her gaze glued to the water running in rivulets down the men’s bodies as they pulled themselves up out of the water and onto their dock.

“Can’t be,” Mindy grumbled. “They haven’t been checking out Kayla, either.”

“They’ve been swimming,” Meg said, unable to keep from staring. “How the hell could they be checking out a woman at the same time?”

Mindy made another unhappy huff and pushed up to her feet. “I’m getting another drink. Do either of you want anything?”

“Nah.” Kayla lay on Meg’s other side, face buried in a rolled up towel.

“I’ll take another bottled water,” Meg said.

Mindy started off, doubtlessly putting as much sway and jiggling into her walk as possible.

Neither man turned to watch her go. The dark one peered off over the water they’d just sliced their too-hot, too-muscular bodies through. The blond glanced over at Meg. His slow smile revealed twin dimples on either side of his mouth and flitted butterflies to life in her stomach.

She laid back down and closed her eyes. If she painted people rather than landscapes, she would love to bring the two men to life on canvas.

“They must be gay,” Mindy muttered a few minutes later, sitting down on her towel and pressing a cold bottle of water against Meg’s side.

“Bitch!” Meg growled, flinching away from the ice-cold bottle.

Mindy giggled. “Think a wardrobe malfunction would get their attention?”

“I’ve never seen you so desperate,” Kayla said, flipping over onto her back.

“I’m not desperate.”

“Horney, then.”

Mindy exaggerated a sigh. “Always.”

“Shit, that sun is hot.” Kayla sat up and grabbed Meg’s water. “Can I have a sip?”

“Sure.”

Kayla tipped the bottle and swallowed a few times. “Why don’t you just go over and ask them if they’re up for a little fun,” she said, twisting the cap back onto the water bottle.

“I don’t chase after men. They chase me.”

“Not this time.” Kayla barked a laugh, but quickly sobered as Mindy’s face fell. “Shit. That was super insensitive. I’m sorry.”

“Just sucks.” Mindy shook her head, eyes filling with tears. “Having those two fuck-a-licious beef steaks at the same time would be the perfect ego boost I need.”

Meg squeezed Mindy’s hand even though all the talk about the two hot men and Mindy getting together irked her for some strange reason. She didn’t want them. Wasn’t interested in hooking up like Mindy was, so why did she care?

“My back is killing me.” Meg pushed up and stretched. “Think I’ll talk a little walk to the bathroom.”

“Sure, they check her out,” Mindy’s mutter reached Meg’s ears as she strode up the bank to their patio.

Meg’s face heated, and she glanced over to the neighbor’s dock. Sure enough, both men had half-turned, watching her.

That twinge of arousal from the night before flared to life.

Oh, boy.

Jerking her head back around, she hurried inside—and decided to stretch out on the couch and read rather than listen to Mindy whine.