Chapter 18

Ivy

"Stupid fucking men," I grumble to myself for what feels like the eight-hundredth time in two days. It's the only words I can think about since Stone and Gray came to blows outside my house.

What the hell were they thinking fighting on my front lawn? They've been friends since childhood and grew up on the ranch together, and now they're fighting. Since when? Why? And why in the hell is Gray so jealous all of a sudden? I'm a good woman, dammit. Sure, I've been a little distracted the past few weeks, but that was even before Stone came back to Opey. So, really, what the hell is his problem?

"Don't scrub the finish off the bar." Hazel's words pull me—thankfully—from my useless thoughts.

"Sorry, I was in a daze, I guess." The club opens in less than thirty minutes, and this is usually a rush time when we all run around to make sure the bars are stocked, and we check to see that we have enough lemons, limes, cherries, and any other fruit people require in their cocktails.

Hazel studies me for a long moment, a slightly amused smile on her face. "Anything you need to talk about, Ivy? I'm a good listener."

Shit, am I that obvious?"No. I mean, thanks, but no. You know how it is with tasks you've done a million times. Your mind starts to drift." Which isn't a complete lie.

"As long as you're all right," she answers in a sing-song voice. "And seriously, don't fuck up that finish," she says and saunters off.

My smile fades, and as I dry off different glasses, my mind goes back to the two men I've been avoiding since I kicked them both out of my house. Everything is all of a sudden so fucking confusing, and I don't like it.

I can't and won't be the reason they end a lifelong friendship. Stone and I are nothing but friends. Just because there was that moment in the kitchen where I'm pretty sure Stone was about to kiss me, or maybe I was about to kiss him. Who knows at this point? What I do know is that a small part of me wants that kiss, and that's a problem.

It makes me a terrible girlfriend. It might even make me an awful friend, too.

The little angel on my shoulder loves to remind me that Stone abandoned me. I won't toss Gray aside just because Stone is back and looking like Thor's biker twin.

But I might toss him aside because he's becoming a jealous prick.

"Dammit." My mind refuses to turn off. Not even the loud pounding bass beat that vibrates the dance floors can distract me. On the outside, I'm smiling and joking with customers at the bar, mixing up cocktails, and giving some of the regulars a bit of conversation. But on the inside, I'm a hot mess.

"You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, girly."

My gaze turns to the familiar voice. Kellyanne and her husband are club regulars. She is beautiful and bubbly, confident, too, as she prances around the club in nothing but a sheer negligee that shows off her toned body. "Hey, Kellyanne. Just thinking. What can I get ya?"

"Three ice-cold vodka martinis. Dirty as hell."

"Coming right up." Kellyanne and her husband are good tippers and usually have good conversations, making her the perfect distraction. "Having a good night?"

She looks around the room with a satisfied smile. "So far, so good. You're still not interested in joining me and Rusty for a threesome?"

Kellyanne's blunt question always jars me because people just aren't that honest in real life. I shrug. "I haven't changed my mind, but thanks for asking."

"Level with me, Ivy. Is it because you don't find me attractive, or is it Rusty?"

I frown and shake my head as I place two large olives on each cocktail spear. "You're both hot, and you know it. It's just not something I've ever done or really considered."

That response only makes her more interested. "We'd be gentle with ya, Rusty, and I've broken in more than a few menage virgins."

"I have no doubt, Kellyanne. The moment my curiosity gets the better of me, y'all are at the top of my list." That answer seems to satisfy her, so I snap the top on the shaker and do its thing for fifteen seconds before pouring the martinis over the olives. "Can I ask you something, Kellyanne?"

She slides onto a bar stool and says, "Of course."

"How do you share your husband without getting jealous?" Gray's obviously on my mind. He's jealous, and nothing has happened between me and Stone, but Kellyanne and Rusty are here regularly, usually with a third, sometimes in the orgy rooms.

She sighs before taking a swig of the drink I place in front of her. "There was some jealousy at first, but it was all vanity. Her tits are better than mine. His dick is bigger. Stupid shit like that."

I'm a rapt audience. "How did you get over it?"

"Time. Rusty and I are rock-fucking-solid, and we both know that. This place gives us a way to enjoy our kinks and to experiment without fucking up our relationship. Are you the jealous type?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure." I try to think about how I might feel if some chick in a tight blue jean skirt and cowgirl boots pressed herself against Gray, but I don't feel jealousy. Or anger. "I don't think so."

"Rusty and I come here because we like to fuck. I love men and women, and Rusty, well, he just loves to fuck. This is about pleasure, raw, physical pleasure. All the other pleasures we save just for each other."

I smile. "That's sweet."

"I know." Kellyanne grabs all three glasses, leaving the tray behind. "Now, if you're not joining us, I've got two men waiting to fuck me silly. Too-de-loo!"

I laugh. "Have fun!"

Kellyanne's throaty laugh sounds as she walks off, the crowd seemingly parting just for her.

After Kellyanne leaves the bar, it seems as if everyone in the place clamors for one last drink, which my bank account is totally on board with. The next ninety minutes fly by in a blur, and I'm almost run off my feet.

I nearly collapse in gratitude when Hazel locks the doors behind the last couple. "All right, guys. Excellent job tonight. Let's clean up and get home!"

The club buzzes with activity until the place looks like it did hours ago when my shift began. I smile as I look around one last time and head to the door. The canvas money bag where I keep my tips bursts at the seams inside my purse.

"Good night?" Sawyer grins as he walks beside me toward my car.

"Great night for tips," I answer with a tired smile.

"Bad night for something else?" Damn, this big burly man and his inquisitive nature.

"Nope. Good tip night means a good night, period." Gray and Stone are friends with Sawyer, so I'm keeping my damn mouth shut. "Good shift?"

"Would've been better if I was inside."

I roll my eyes. "Like you have trouble getting laid." A good-looking man with more muscles than the average man is a hot commodity in these parts.

"Didn't say I had trouble. Said it would've been better if was inside."

"Smartass," I shoot back and come to an abrupt stop at the sight of my car. "You have got to be fucking kidding me." I walk around the car just to make sure my eyes aren't playing tricks on me. Nope, they're not.

Sawyer's gaze follows mine and he pushes me behind him. His gaze flickers around the area in search of the perpetrator. "You got enemies, Ivy?"

"None that come to mind," I say as if I'm not freaking the fuck out. "And if I do, no one who'd slash all of my tires." Who'd do this, and more importantly, why?

"Looks like whoever it was stabbed them with a knife."

"Shit," I mutter to myself. I debate if I should call Gray or just catch a rideshare home. I pull out my phone, deciding that the rideshare will cause less drama, but my phone starts ringing in my hand. "Sage? What's up?"

"I just got home, and someone broke into our apartment!" When I hear the fear in her voice, I want to break whoever did this to her.

I put the phone on speaker, pointing at it to Sawyer. "Are you okay? Did they take anything?"

"I can't tell, but payback is a bitch is scribbled in red across the living room wall."

"What?" My legs give out, and I crouch down, hugging my legs with my free hand. "Who would do that?"

"I don't know, but I'm kind of freaking out, Ivy. What the hell should I do?"

Sawyer turns to me. "Sage, lock the door if you can, and if you can't, go sit in your car with the door locked and don't open it unless it's one of us."

"Sawyer? What's going on?" she asks, her words wavering with worry.

"Do it now," he growls. "I'm coming to get you right now."

"Okay," she squeaks out in reply. "I'm going to my car. Right now. Stay on the phone with me, Ivy?"

"Of course." I mute the call and turn to Sawyer. "What now?"

He shrugs. "I'll get you settled, and then I'll go pick her up. Come on, I'll take you to?—"

"The bunkhouse," I finish before he can make any other offer.