Sundown Crossing bar pulsed with night-out energy.

I sank into the corner booth across from my best friend, feeling the knots in my shoulders finally start to loosen.

“You needed this.” Marisol lifted her margarita in salute, her knowing eyes tracking over my face. “I could see you winding tighter every day. Another week of sexual tension with those cowboys and you would’ve spontaneously combusted.”

“I’m not that wound up.”

“Honey, you’re practically vibrating. When was the last time you got properly laid?”

Six days ago against a barn wall. Four days ago in the back of a truck.

The memories made heat flood between my legs.

“That blush tells me everything.” Marisol leaned forward, hungry for details. “Spill. Which one finally broke through those walls?”

The margarita loosened my tongue before I could stop it. “Both.”

“Both?” Her eyes went wide. “As in separately or…”

“Separately. Days apart.” I downed the rest of my drink, needing the burn.

Marisol pressed for details, she wanted to know everything. The stable incident with Colt. The truck with Kameron.

The way both men circled me like wolves scenting prey.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t think straight,” I admitted. “I’m drawn to both of them equally, and it makes no sense. They’re completely different. But when I’m with either one… I forget the other exists.”

“Until you’re not with them.” Marisol’s eyes gleamed over the rim of her glass. “Then you think about both.”

“Yes…” The word came out small. Shameful. “When I’m with Kameron, he’s all fire and danger and I want to climb him like a tree. When I’m with Colt, he’s intense and controlled and I want him to break me apart.”

The confession spilled out, raw and honest.

“Ivory.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “This is a fantasy made flesh. Two gorgeous men who clearly want you, who are already co-parenting your children, whether they know it or not. Why are you fighting this?”

“Because it’s insane.” I lowered my voice. “Because people don’t actually live like that.”

“Some people do.” She squeezed my hand. “Why choose when you could have both? You can make it work with more than one partner. Especially when both men already know about each other.”

“They don’t know—”

“They’re not stupid, Ivory. They probably can smell each other on you.”

The door swung open, cutting off my response.

Ryan walked in with Stella on his arm. They moved directly to the small dance floor, his hand settling possessively on her waist as she rested her head against his shoulder.

The entire bar watched our sheriff publicly claim his woman.

Irritation and envy twisted through my chest. My brother could declare his desires openly while I hid mine like shameful secrets.

Must be nice to want something simple.

The door opened again and my entire body went electric.

Kameron and Colt walked in together, and their gazes found me like heat-seeking missiles. They crossed the bar with predatory synchronization, ignoring the blonde who tried to intercept them, the redhead who called Kameron’s name.

“Mind if we join you ladies?” Colt’s voice was polite, but they were already sliding in—Kameron pressing against my left side, Colt on my right, their bodies caging me completely.

The booth was meant for four, but they sat close. Too close.

Kameron’s thigh pressed hot against mine through my skirt. Colt’s shoulder brushed mine with each breath.

“Well, well.” Marisol’s grin turned sharp. “The new ranch owners. What a coincidence, both showing up together.”

“Heard this place had good whiskey.” Kameron flagged the waitress with the confidence of someone used to being noticed. “Figured we’d check it out.”

“Together?” Marisol’s eyebrow arched. “How cozy. Most business partners would want separate social time.”

“We’re not most partners,” Colt said smoothly.

His thigh pressed harder against mine, the muscle solid and warm through his jeans.

“Good to know.” Marisol’s voice turned deceptively sweet—the tone that preceded violence in high school. “Because Ivory’s family to me. And I protect my family. You boys understand what I’m saying?”

Oh dear God…

They’ll pull away. They have to pull away.

“Admirable,” Colt murmured.

His pinky finger brushed against the edge of my underwear, following the elastic where it met my thigh. The touch was so light, so teasing, I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering.

“She definitely doesn’t give up easily. Sometimes you have to be… persistent to get her attention.” His middle finger pressed against my covered clit.

The contact was brief, barely there, but pleasure shot through me like lightning.

“Persistence can be good,” Marisol said thoughtfully, still oblivious. “But Ivory doesn’t respond well to being cornered or pressured.”

Currently being cornered. Currently responding very well.

Under the table, both men were now actively stroking me through my underwear. Kameron’s fingers circled my clit while Colt traced my slit through the fabric, feeling how wet I was, how swollen.

“We’d never corner her,” Colt said to Marisol, his voice impressively steady. “Just… make ourselves available for whatever she needs.”

His finger pressed against my entrance through the underwear, not entering but threatening. Promising. The fabric was so wet it offered almost no barrier.

“Whatever she wants,” Kameron added, his finger picking up speed on my clit, the pressure perfect, too perfect. “However she wants it.”

Shit, I’m going to come. Right here at this table with my best friend watching.

My thighs were trembling with the effort of not spreading wider, not grinding against their hands like a cat in heat.

“I need to go to the restroom.” My voice came out rougher than intended. “Be right back.”

Both men withdrew their hands slowly. Deliberately slowly, making me feel every inch of lost contact. Kameron’s grin was wicked and even Colt’s expression promised this wasn’t over.

I slid out of the booth on unsteady legs, grateful for the excuse to move, to breathe. To put distance between myself and the heat still burning where their hands had been.

My body still thrummed with the memory of their hands meeting beneath my skirt. The way neither man had retreated. The way they’d both seemed to accept sharing me in that moment.

Maybe Marisol was right. Maybe I didn’t have to choose.

“Ivory.” Ryan’s voice cut through my thoughts, standing beside the bar, Stella waiting near the exit. “I need to speak with you before I leave.”

His expression warned me this conversation would not be easy.