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“And I don’t intend to be… ever,” I assured them, visualizing my most recent encounter. Okay, so it was a bit awkward, and I didn’t actually come… I faked it, but he had potential.
“So, who is he? Someone we know,” Freddie Graves asked.
Freddie and I went all the way back to being born only a couple of hours apart at the same hospital. Our moms were still best friends, and we even shared a crib for a few weeks when we were babies, and my parents were first settling into Cricket. We always thought of ourselves as best friends from the time we first started walking and talking. Our moms claimed that we taught each other how to walk and even potty trained each other. Thingwas, I always had a crush on Freddie with his sexy bourbon-colored eyes and a hug that sometimes brought me to my knees. Still, I would never, ever allow myself to go there. It would ruin our friendship, and that was more important than sex… at least I wanted to believe that.
“No one you’d know,” I told him, not wanting him to start down that protector path that he always played with me. Whenever I dated someone new, he had to know all the details and would even do research on the guy to make sure he was legit. His intrusion was a double-edged sword. I never liked it, but there had been times when all that intrusion had paid off, especially with some of the more freakier guys I’d dated.
“Try us. We know a lot of people,” Bram said, encouraging me to tell. They hated it whenever I kept my boyfriends a secret. It’s like they were my three brothers instead of my best friends.
Of course, when they were still dating, I wanted to know everything about their women as well, and admittedly, I’d get a bit jealous. Mainly when I saw them together. There were even times when I’d go home and cry.
What the hell?
“Okay. Fine. His name is Gary Framer. He’s not from around here, so this time, no way can any of you know him.”
“Right. Um, he’s from Sweet Whiskey, and he’s married to Tina Mullans who travels all the time for her job. He’s a total shit,” Freddie said, then went back to sanding the coffin.
“That’s not possible. We spent the entire afternoon together. We made plans for the Witches Ball. It must be another Gary Framer. You’re so wrong on this one, Freddie.”
“Let’s see… sandy colored hair, and scruffy chin. A big guy, about six four or five. Rides a black Harley, something we all know you’re immediately attracted to, and he has a tatt that goes up the side of his fat neck?”
My eyes widened. He was describing Gary, my Gary, the Gary I thought had potential.
My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I merely stared at him.
He continued. “Yeah, I remodeled his kitchen just this last summer when they bought a small house not too far from the Sweet Whiskey’s cemetery. He owns a company that takes care of the landscaping inside that cemetery. He’s a ghoulish guy when you get to know him, which I did during the reno. Wife is sweet though. That sound like your Gary?”
I blinked a couple of times, and for a few awkward moments, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’d slept with a lying, cheat of a fucking shit. Not wanting to believe this was the same guy, but the tatt… that was the cincher.
“Fuck it. Fuck it all! Okay, I’m fucking done!” I was pacing now, as I ripped off my jacket and unfurrowed my scarf, while I walked over the hard-packed-dirt barn floor, staring at the ground. Mentally berating myself for being such a fool. “I’m joining forces with you guys. And to think, I had… Oh, I’m soooo fucking done. So, what do I have to do to join your covenant of the sexless gang? Is there blood involved? You know how much I hate the sight of blood.”
I didn’t want to admit anything. It was about saving some small shred of my dignity. I hoped they’d gloss over everything else that might have happened with Gary and tell me about their covenant or the looming casket race instead.
“We’re not entirely sexless. We’re just not allowing sex to force us to be with self-centered, mean-spirited people,” Freddie began. “Gary’s freaky as fuck. If he had an open type of marriage, then his shit would be acceptable, but his wife has no clue he cheats. So be honest. Did you have sex with the freak?”
They were all staring at me now. Their big, beautiful eyes gazing my way. Waiting for an answer. Sometimes I hated thatwe were friends, and even worse, best friends. Why couldn’t I be normal and have best girlfriends instead of best guy friends? Yes, they were sometimes intimidating, and yes, sometimes I thought about what it would be like to take our friendship to another level, and fuck all three of them at once, but I never acted on it because I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship. I didn’t think I could get through life without these three loving, spirited, gorgeous, muscle-bound, one hundred percent all men by my side. They meant everything to me.
So yeah, I had to tell them the truth or risk losing their friendship.
It was our pact, our blood pact that we made when we first started hanging around together and saw our Carrie Ann’s ghost inside her playroom in Stoker House while it was all boarded up. Not only did we promise to never talk about what we saw to anyone else, we also promised to be loyal and truthful to each other.
“Fuck you, Freddie Graves. Yes, I had sex with him, but, in my defense, it was just sex. Nothing more than that.”
I was flat-out lying about how I’d felt. I thought it might go somewhere. I was hopeful. Excited. And anticipated an actual relationship.
I’m so fucking naive.
“You were glowing when you walked in here. That tells me it was more than just sex,” Bram said. He could always tell whenever any of us were just coming off a good round of hot sex. It was like he had some sort of radar for the stuff. Weird as shit.
I wanted to change the subject. “I was glowing from the conversation I heard before I walked in here. You guys sounded like you were having some kind of orgy.”
“We were… over this damn coffin,” Vince said. “We want it to be perfect. We’re determined to win this year. This will be three years since our last win. So, it’s time, baby! It’s time.”
It worked. We were done talking about Gary and my stupid mistake and onto more important matters… coffins.
“Just tell me what I have to do,” I told them, anxious to get our coffin brigade off and running.
I’d usually push the coffin in front on the right side, while Bram would be behind me, and Freddie and Vince would be on the other side, with Vince leading him.
