Love Under Two Mavericks by Cara Covington (best e reader for manga txt) 📗

it’s one of the family’s newer traditions,” Randy said. “One that has been endured by Jessops and Kendalls—and now by Benedicts.”

“I see. That’s why the men were chuckling about your refusal to have us all sit, men at one end of our line of tables, and women at the other.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re honoring your request to provide your own transportation to and from this date. But while we’re here with you, we’re here with you.”

“Thank God.”

The song wound down, and then she found herself between them, her hands held, as they walked together back to their table.

“You sit. We’ll serve you,” Lewis said.

Apparently, Bailey’s husbands, Chance and Logan, felt the same way. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Shar wave her husbands toward the buffet, too.

“So…everything okay?” Bailey’s question, softly asked, told Michaela that her friend meant more than a casual inquiry.

“Yes, Everything’s good. That last dance? That was very nice.” The feeling of dancing with both her dates was one she’d hang onto and examine when she was alone. She looked from Bailey to Shar. “It looked strange, when I saw y’all dancing that way, but it felt right. This whole night has been good.”

“You should probably know that Lewis spoke to Jesse. Since we live closest to you, he asked us to make sure you got home okay.”

Michaela tilted her head. “Well.” And because a couple of contradictory emotions hit her at the same time, she blew out a breath and chuckled. “We women really can be perverse sometimes, can’t we?”

“Of course,” Bailey said.

“One of our best skills,” Shar agreed. “What form has your perverseness taken?”

“Half of me is impressed they’re not pushing to come home with me tonight. And half of me is wondering what’s wrong with me that they’re not.”

“My professional opinion is free tonight, and tonight only. Want it?” Shar’s eyes were kind, and her cheeks revealed a dimple, the kind Michaela had always wished she’d been born with.

Michaela knew Shar was a psychologist who worked primarily with children and women who’d been through one form of trauma or another. She liked Shar, a lot.

“Absolutely. I’ll take all the advice I can get.”

“My advice is, let us see you home tonight. Lewis’s suggestion shows respect for your boundaries and, at the same time, allows for his protective instincts to be exercised. It doesn’t get much better than that, my friend. But after tonight? Having gotten to know both Lewis and Randy, I can tell you they’re good guys. You need to decide if you can trust them, or not. If you want to be with them, or not.”

“I already know I trust them. Thank you for the advice. And for the escort, home.”

“Good girl.”

She hadn’t noticed the guys approach. Lewis’s words were the ones she’d heard other men use with their girlfriends or wives and, when she’d heard them, she had chafed at. But right this moment, she didn’t feel like chafing. She kind of felt as if he’d just praised her.

He set a plate down on the table in front of her. Randy set a glass of sweet tea down for her. Since both Bailey and Shar had vacated their recently borrowed chairs, Lewis resumed his seat to her right. Randy took a moment to take the tray he’d carried back to the buffet area, then returned and sat on her left.

“Wow, this is a good selection.” There were cold cuts, some delicious-looking ribs, beans, and a couple of salads. A slice of cornbread sat on the edge of her plate.

“There are desserts yet to come,” Lewis said.

Michaela looked over at the long buffet table. She shook her head. “There’s no way the people running these dances are making any money.”

“I don’t think making money is the point,” Randy said.

“No, it’s probably not.” No one had said anything, but Michaela had the impression that several members of the families in Lusty were very well heeled.

She hadn’t ever met anyone who was really rich, but she’d taken a few meetings, when she worked in graphic design, with business owners who thought themselves above everyone else. She guessed if she thought about it, that was how she’d expect really rich people to behave.

But maybe they didn’t all behave that way.

Good food and good conversation. Michaela couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself so much at what essentially was a community event. When the band announced their final set, Lewis and Randy each took one of her hands.

“So, the big question. Do we split the dancing, or will you take us both on at the same time?” Lewis asked.

She looked around the room. Once more the lights had been dimmed, and people were dancing. A few couples, but several triads, and even a quad or two.

She turned back to the guys. “I’m here with you both. So why shouldn’t I dance with you both? I thought it would be weird. But it wasn’t weird.”

“No,” Randy said. “It wasn’t.”

Michaela sighed, and even when the group began to sing Luke Bryan’s “Knocking Boots,” she found that the rhythm and the coordination were just right. The next few songs passed far too quickly. Then the lights came up, and she knew the evening was over.

“We’ll walk you out.”

Michaela found herself wishing she hadn’t made such a big fuss about arriving on her own. She nearly changed her mind.

If you let them come home with you, they won’t leave till morning. That was true, and while she was nearly certain they were headed to that destination sooner rather than later anyway, it didn’t have to be tonight.

She said goodnight to her friends and then walked between Lewis and Randy, each of them holding one of her hands, toward her car.

“What shift are you on tomorrow?” Lewis asked.

“The later one. I have a bit of work I want to do finish off at the house, first thing. I’m nearly done the porch, and I have one piece to fix on the inside front door frame. I’d like to