Zeke smirked at her. “Well, you’re tiny and do yoga. You can probably assume some positions a regular girl can’t.”
“Nope,” Mitch said, shaking his head. “You’re not going to sit here and imagine Paige in the shower.”
“It’s instructional,” Zeke said. “Paige is declaring that something can happen that I don’t think can. She’s educating me.”
Mitch shook his head. “No, she isn’t.” He looked up at his girlfriend. “Don’t encourage him.”
She laughed. “He doesn’t need encouraging. He’s also full of it. There’s no way he’s not having shower sex. You told me Zander put built-in benches in all your showers when he remodeled your bathrooms.”
“And you’re all very welcome,” Zander said, lifting his beer.
“I really appreciate it,” Paige told him with a grin.
“I use my bench for holding up my bottles,” Zeke said. “I’ve got plenty of other surfaces for sex.”
“Bottles? How many bottles are we talkin’ here?” Zander asked.
Zeke counted silently for a moment. “Six.”
Fletcher had to admit his eyes widened too. “Six?”
“Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, shave cream, shampoo, and body wash,” Zeke said, ticking them off on his fingers.
“You said shampoo and body wash twice,” Zander pointed out.
“I have two of each.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes I want to smell like spring rain and sometimes I want to smell like a mountain morning,” Zeke said, as if that were obvious.
The guys just stared at him, but Paige leaned over and gave him a sniff. She nodded. “Very nice.”
“Yeah? Which one is it?” Zander asked.
“Beer and buttercream on a mountain in the rain,” she said.
Zeke gave her a wink and they all laughed.
“But seriously,” Zeke said. “Shower sex is more work than bed sex. It just is. And it’s not just the hair in the drain. You have to worry about slipping, you have to remember to take the condom in there, you have to hold on tighter, then when it’s over everybody has to dry off. And then her hair gets my pillow all wet.”
“Oh my God, it’s about the hair again,” Zander said. “Have you considered dating a bald girl?”
“I have actually,” Zeke said. “I dated a girl with a super cute pixie cut. I let her shower at my place.”
Mitch, Paige, and Zander laughed and even Fletcher felt himself smiling.
“I’ve never met a man so obsessed with women’s hair,” Zander told his twin.
Zeke gave him a smug grin. “Well, when you have so many to choose from, you can be a little pickier. I guess you wouldn’t understand that.”
Zander just flipped him off.
Fletcher even chuckled at that. He was sure Zander had to snake his drain on a fairly regular basis too and that it wasn’t all because of his long hair.
Fletcher glanced toward the bar where Jordan was sitting. The thing about Zeke and his aversion to long hair clogging his drain, was that he hadn’t met the right girl yet. Fletcher would have no trouble dealing with Jordan’s hair all over his house.
Just then she looked up and caught his eye. She gave him a little smile and he felt his heart thump against his ribs.
It was their wedding night. They were fucking sitting in Ellie’s bar with all of their friends and family eating their wedding cake at their wedding reception.
How the hell had this happened?
He watched her say something to Naomi and Charlie that caused them to glance in his direction and nod. Jordan slipped off the barstool and started across the bar.
Again, his heart thumped hard. God, he loved her. And she was his now. And he was supposed to be giving her a night to remember. That was one thing Jason had never done. Given her a wedding night.
Yeah, no pressure.
Fuck.
A moment later she slid into his lap the way Paige was sitting on Mitch. Instinctively Fletcher’s arm went around her, happily settling his hand on the outer curve of her ass. While she’d sat on his lap many times in the past, he’d never been able to touch her quite that way. Or move her back slightly so the curve of her butt cheek was pressing into his cock. Or lean in and put his nose against her neck and breathe deeply.
Spring mornings on mountains had nothing on how Jordan smelled.
She looped her arm around his neck and put her lips against his ear. “I don’t have to ignore it anymore.”
He and his cock knew exactly what she was talking about. Just like that morning, the moment her sweet ass hit his lap, his cock had said hello.
And he did not want her to ignore it.
At all.
But she didn’t like giving blowjobs, she only liked sex in the bedroom, and she hated when Jason slept with one of his legs draped over her because he was hot and made her sweaty.
It was possible he and Jordan knew too much about one another.
Dammit. He needed a little more time to prepare for taking Jordan to bed. They were both a little sleep deprived—a lot sleep deprived—and they’d both been drinking. Twenty-four hours ago they hadn’t even been dating. Now they were married.
Essentially, he’d married her so he could date her. Or at least so no one else would date her. They’d certainly gotten to know each other well over the past twenty years. There was no question they were compatible and could live together. But maybe they needed some romance. A chance to get to know each other physically. Some heavy making out.
Maybe they needed to work up to the sex thing. Even if it was their wedding night.
“Hey, Zander,” Fletcher said. “Jordan was talking about how she hasn’t beat your ass at darts in a long time.”
Zander glanced at Fletcher’s new wife. “Is that right?”
“Did I say that?” Jordan asked.
Well not in so many words, but she’d mentioned that playing darts with Zander was on her to-do-back-in-Autre list. Besides she and Zander had always loved their dart games.
“Yeah, remember?” He was counting on the fact that she was more sleep deprived and probably more tipsy than he was.
“It has been a long time,” Jordan said.
Zander was looking at Fletcher with a knowing expression. Fletcher almost blew that off. There was no way his brother knew what he was up to.
But when Zander said, “It has been a long time. And, you’re now officially my sister, which means I really don’t have to take it easy on you. Rematch, right now, shots all around,” Fletcher realized that Zander knew exactly what Fletcher was hoping would happen.
“Take it easy on me? Oh, bring it on,” Jordan said, pushing off Fletcher’s lap and taking Zander’s challenge.
Exactly as expected.
Neither Zander or Jordan had ever walked away from a dart game. Period.
They always needed to be carried away.
When they played, they always drank tequila, something neither of them handled particularly well. They claimed it was because they were both so good at darts they needed some kind of handicap to make it even competitive.
The truth was, they were the best dart players in the southern half of Louisiana—for what good those bragging rights were. When they played against one another, it was a toss-up as to who would win. Their records were pretty even.