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Tagline: For Presley, waking up between Gunnar and Frazier is the best way to be merry and bright.
Blurb: After losing her parents, Presley Griffith will be spending the holidays alone, and wishes new traditions were easier to establish. But instead of being by herself, she ends up in bed with Frazier Boyle and Gunnar Stewart. The cop and the firefighter heat things up and cool them down and Presley can’t think of a better way to be merry and bright.
Excerpt:
Presley sat in the middle of happy chaos, surrounded by gifts, wrapping paper, and her two guys. “Look, I love being an auntie. My brothers keep thinking I need to get married and have a buttload of kids, but I’m perfectly content borrowing theirs.” She laughed. “Dave, the oldest one, fears I’ll end up an old lady surrounded by sixty cats.”
Frazier narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. No, can’t see that. Twenty-five, maybe, but not a cat over fifty.”
Presley wadded up a pile of wrapping paper and threw it his way, striking his chest. “Shut up. They don’t think I’m normal because I’m not in a huge rush to start dropping kids like they did.”
Gunnar shrugged. “Sounds perfectly normal to me. Then again, I think I define the word a little differently than most.” He kicked his feet out and leaned back against the couch. “To date, I’ve celebrated one”—he made air quotes—”traditional holiday with the works, and a mishmash of every other kind you can think of”—he ticked off the names—”Hanukah, Kwanza, Yule, and then we had the standard dinner, visit from Santa, and treats at the group home.” He lifted his shoulder again. “Definitely something different all the time.”
Presley gave him a sad smile. “Sounds a little lonely.”
His lips quirked. “Sometimes, but seriously, not that often.” He nodded toward Frazier. “What about you, Fraz?”
Frazier rolled his eyes. “Normal growing up, but over the last five years, more like a warzone.” He got up and started gathering the torn wrapping paper. “If the folks weren’t having a shouting match, my mom would go on and on about how insane her youngest son was for running into burning buildings instead of out of them.” He jammed the festive packaging into a trash bag.
Gunnar snorted. “Dude, she’s got a point.” He ducked when Frazier tossed Presley’s huge pillow in his direction.
Presley gave Gunnar a considering glance. “Says the hard-assed detective who steps into the line of fire.” She shook her head. “You’re both kinda crazy, but so very necessary.”
Gunnar smirked. “It takes a special kind of weird to do what we do, right, Fraz?”
Frazier nodded. “You know it, bro.”
Enjoying herself immensely, she got up and helped Fraz clear up the mess while Gunnar neatly stacked her new gifts under the tree. She plopped down on the couch, and the guys settled on either side of her.
Leaning her head back against the cushion, she said, “Guys. I have a confession to make.” She propped her feet up on the coffee table. “I’m never, ever going to own a cat.”
Frazier burst out laughing, and Gunnar’s shoulders shook.
Frazier nudged her leg. “Pres, don’t let your brothers get you down. You’ll either find someone you want, or you won’t. Felines don’t have to be involved.”
Gunnar rested his head on the cushion beside hers. “A dog might be nice, though.”
Presley giggled, and then she laughed. “Oh, man, you two are perfect.” She sat up. “Seriously, thank you guys so much. My siblings are pretty great, and I know they want me to be happy and all, but both mentioned they had friends they want to fix me up with over the holidays, and ugh, I just didn’t even want to think about it.” She shuddered. “One runs a trucking company, and the other owns a restaurant.”
Frazier cocked his head to the side. “Hmm. Nope. Can’t see you with either type.”
Gunnar lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t want to see her with either type.”
Presley crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not about type, you guys. It’s about having something in common, and I don’t with either of them.”
Gunnar nodded. “I get it. You should be with a man who’s committed to his work but understands what you do is important, too.”
Frazier agreed. “Or someone who’s passionate about helping people when they can’t help themselves.” He glanced in her direction. “Like you did with the abuse victim we brought in.”
Presley snorted. “See. You two just described each other. And combined you’d make the perfect man.” She threw her hands up. “It’s why I don’t wanna choose between you.”
She couldn’t believe she’d said the reason out loud. Stupid soju. She always let down her guard when she drank the stuff.
The room went quiet, even the frenetic sound of Trans-Siberian Orchestra faded into the background. Presley caught the stunned expression on each man’s face and wanted to crawl into a dark hole and hide.
Gunnar recovered first. “So why pick one?”
Presley blinked. Did he just suggest not choosing between them?
She tilted her head sideways, studying him. “Because it’s the normal thing to do, right?”
Gunnar huffed out a breath. “Pres, we just sat here and listed all the reasons we’re not normal.”
Okay, they had, but shit. She couldn’t really wrap her head around the crazy idea of sharing them.
Frazier quietly intervened. “Gunn, maybe you should back off.”
Presley waved his objection aside. “No, Fraz. I wanna hear what he’s thinking.” And probably wish she didn’t have a need for him to spell it out.
Gunnar folded his arms across his chest. “Look, this probably isn’t the time. Forget I said anything.”
Presley turned toward Gunnar. “I don’t think so, Gunnar. Didn’t you say this is all about me? Well, explain. Are you really implying you’d be okay if I dated you and Frazier?” She lifted a brow. “What about sleeping together? Not gonna have a problem if I crawl from your bed to his?” She glanced over her shoulder toward Frazier.
Frazier laid a hand on her shoulder. “Presley, hold up, the conversation got a little out of hand here. I don’t think Gunnar meant—”
Gunnar cut him off. “No, I’ll answer. Your bed, my bed, his bed. I don’t care. Fraz?”
Presley leaned back against the cushion again, intensely curious about Frazier’s response.
Frazier pursed his lips, taking a moment before replying. “Look, I feel the same. Gunnar would never hurt you or get all bent if he stopped by and found you in my bed. As for me, if I knocked on Gunn’s door and you answered in his bathrobe, I’d probably be more pissed you didn’t invite me over than about finding you there.”
Presley’s eyes widened. “That’s so kinky.”
And kind of sexy. She shuddered a little at the thought of being with both men.
Gunnar ran his hand along her thigh. “But it turns you on, doesn’t it?”
Presley nodded. “I won’t lie. The idea makes me hot. And sort of follows a recurring dream I have about you two.
Frazier trailed a finger down her arm. “Dreams can become reality.”
~*~
