Free Love Under Two Cowboys by Cara Covington Page B

so injured anymore,” Grant called out to her.
    “So then you’ve got medical clearance to get back to work?” she heard Brian ask.
    “Of course not. Every doctor in the whole damn town is either my father or my brother. They’re as coddling as the rest of you.”
    “We weren’t coddling you,” Chase said. “We were really gonna pound you for hanging around our woman.”
    “I know, damn it. Would have been the most fun I’d had since I came home.”
    Carrie thought that just maybe thinking of the men as “boys” wasn’t that far off from the truth, after all.
    “You’ve only just come to Lusty yourself, so it can’t be in the genes only, then.”
    Carrie turned at Julián’s words.
    “What can’t?”
    He looked a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
    Carrie shook her head. “No, I understand. It took me a bit to get used to the idea of the ménage relationship.” She shrugged. “The important thing you need to know about Lusty is that no one judges you, period. That extends beyond whether you have one lover or more. It’s everything.”
    Yes, it was everything, and maybe she shouldn’t be so timid about opening up to the brothers Benedict.
    “I can see the draw of that,” Julián said. He nodded, as if he’d decided something for himself. “I guess I should go out and lend a hand. It sounds as if they’ve finished arguing over which piece of furniture comes off the truck, first.”
    Carrie wondered about that entire conversation even as she tried to put her finger on why the man looked so familiar to her.
    She didn’t have any time to worry about it, however, for just then Brian and Chase came in on either end of a love seat.
    “You just tell us where, darlin’,” Brian said.
    For the next hour she did just that, setting not only the furniture in the parlor, but also the dining room. The décor in that room had been more ostentatious than the cowboys—or herself for that matter—had been comfortable with.
    The warehouse had certainly been a treasure trove of furnishings, linens, dishes—damn near anything anyone would need to furnish a home.
    There, she’d discovered a lovely oak dining room set, a rectangular table with eight chairs, a china cabinet and sideboard with a hutch. The color of the wood—a nice, warm brown—combined with the clean lines looked as if it had been made for the house. She’d repainted the walls a soft butter shade with white trim. The multipaned windows, two of them inset into the wall side by side, completely opened the room once the previous deep green paint had been eradicated.
    The men generally ate in the kitchen, but she’d wanted to give them the option to seat family. Of course if their entire family showed up for a meal it would have to be sawhorses and four-by-eight sheets of wood outside.
    While the men were hefting furniture, she nipped out to the kitchen to pull the casserole she’d made the day before out of the fridge. She’d brought fresh rolls to complement the hearty spicy beef and rice meal she’d prepared.
    She stood back as the men brought in the last items, the dining room chairs. She noticed that they were all looking at her as if she’d done something strange.
    Who knew how these men’s minds worked?
    Ignoring their odd behavior was likely her best bet. “If you’re hungry, there’s food. Just give me five minutes to set the table.”
    “Wait a minute,” Andrew said. Apparently he’d been elected to speak. “Are you going to feed us first before we finish?”
    Carrie didn’t quite understand the question. “Is there more furniture on the truck?”
    “No, ma’am,” Grant said. “We were just wondering.”
    “We unloaded and you pointed where to put everything, and…that’s where it all still is,” Andrew said. “Don’t you want to rearrange things a few times? Try out different looks?”
    The way all five of the men were looking at her told her that the Jessops had been elected spokesmen.
    Carrie