Free Nuit Aux Trois by Melinda Barron Page B

hunter, appeared in the doorway.
    "Hi. I'm inviting myself to dinner so we can discuss our Halloween hunt."
    She had to laugh. Martin was sweet, and very fun to be around. He was also a medium who had accompanied the guys on several of their ghost hunts. She knew they'd already discussed what they had planned for Halloween and what he really wanted was a free dinner—in the shape of Fletch's jambalaya.
    "Yeah, I figured you'd be here,” Fletch said. “Mooch."
    Martin laughed. “Proud of it. So, let's eat. I'm starved."
    He bounded back down the stairs and Quinn let out an exasperated breath of air.
    "No ghost talk at the table,” she said, looking at her two friends. “You know I don't believe in that crap."
    "One day that will change,” Dev said. “And that day may come a lot sooner than you think."
    * * * *
    The early morning sun drifted through the gauzy curtains in Quinn's bedroom. She lay in the middle of the bed, her eyes focused on the ceiling. She hadn't slept very well the previous night, her thoughts drifting between the crappy situation at work and the strange happenings between herself and her roommates.
    Had she given off some sort of sexual vibes that they had picked up on? That could be the only true reason for the kiss ... or rather, kisses?
    Had they merely felt sorry for her and kissed her in an attempt to make her feel better?
    If so, it had worked. The touch of their lips had seared her all the way down to her toes. She'd wanted to suggest that the three of them test out their new bed, but she knew that would have been the wrong thing to do.
    They had just felt sorry for her, for the things going on in her life. That's why they'd kissed her. It's not like they hadn't done it before.
    But last night had been different; their kisses were passionate yet tender. And they certainly hadn't felt platonic.
    The smell of coffee drifted up the stairs and she sighed. Fletch was the cook in the household and she was sure breakfast would be tasty. He knew her favorite was what he called his breakfast temptation : a mixture of herbs and eggs mixed with rice and a special spicy sauce only Fletch could create.
    She sniffed and immediately recognized the smell of the sauce mixed in with the coffee. Her eyebrows furrowed. The smell was close. The kitchen was on the first floor, and the delicious aroma wafted toward her from just outside the door.
    She sat upright as the door swung open. Fletch carried a tray heaped with food while Dev balanced a coffee carafe and a plate of beignets on another.
    "Morning, Boo,” Fletch said. “Time to eat."
    "You don't have to baby me, you know.” She watched as Fletch rounded the bed and set the tray on the nightstand. Dev deposited the other tray on the opposite nightstand. Both sat down, squeezing her in between them.
    Quinn shivered when Dev caressed her arm and Fletch leaned over and kissed her cheek.
    "We want you in a good mood for our proposal,” Dev said with a smile.
    He turned and poured large cups of café au lait , handed them out, and took a sip. His eyebrows went up and she knew Dev was waiting for her to ask about the proposal.
    "Okay, I'll bite,” she said, taking a sip of her own coffee. The proximity of these two delicious men was driving her crazy. One thing was for sure: something was going to have to give around here, because she wasn't sure she could take much more of this.
    "You're going with us,” Fletch said.
    "Where?” She turned to him, and as the silence grew, understanding dawned. “Oh no, I'm not. Call me a chicken if you want, but I'm not spending Halloween in a haunted plantation house."
    "Oh yes, you are,” Dev said. “You've got plenty of vacation time built up. A few days without you at the office will convince them of how valuable you are. They'll beg you to stay. And they'll reconsider their decision."
    "No, they won't,” she said. “They'll just find someone to replace me."
    "Nobody could replace you,” Fletch said. He reached