Free Three Men and a Woman: Evangeline (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Rachel Billings

he’d been serious, that he’d want—more.
    Maybe it was wrong of her to have let it happen. It was just—he’d taken her by surprise, appearing in front of her so unexpectedly, looking at her with heat in those dark eyes. She hadn’t been prepared.
    But no, it wasn’t just those things.
    She shouldn’t even try to lie to herself.
    If she were being honest, she’d have to admit that, as she’d driven away from Briggs, contemplating her life and her place in the world, there’d been some resentment. The hours she’d spent with Briggs had left her wanting something.
    She was a woman of twenty-nine. And yes, her life was full and happy, and she could feel satisfied loving her three friends from afar.
    But there was satisfied, and then, she now knew, there was satisfied .
    And so maybe she’d been a bit careless when she let Giovanni carry her to his room, a bit reckless. Like a drunk falling off the wagon, she’d lost all control. She’d had binge sex. She’d gotten wasted on it.
    She should have done better, by him and for herself as well. She should have behaved in a way such that she didn’t have to slip into yesterday’s dress, carry her heels, and tiptoe out of a man’s room at dawn.
    A man who she was pretty sure would be angry and hurt to wake up alone.
    Well, she couldn’t change it.
    If he was hurt and angry enough, it was possible that he would find her to complain about it. It wasn’t like she was hiding. Exactly.
    She would deal with it if it happened. At the moment, her little walk of shame was the best she could manage.
    She used the room she’d reserved only to shower and dress in the simple skirt and top she’d planned to wear to the brunch. She wouldn’t stay for that—it turned out she was more of a coward than she’d known.
    It wasn’t until she was back on the Thruway heading east that she breathed easily.
    She got to the hospital in Rochester early and sat with Aunt Winona. The narcotics she was given to help her manage pain also kept her pretty sedated, but she was at her best in the morning hours. She was in and out, waking to chat about the farm, the grape weather, and the children of Victory Farms, and then dozing.
    After a couple hours, when Winona was drifting to sleep again, Evangeline kissed her cheek and told her good-bye. She’d done that three or four times in the last three weeks, never knowing if it would be the last time.
    Then, as she walked out of the hospital, she heard her name called and knew that fate was really fucking with her.
     
    * * * *
     
    Chase Gregory worked three fourteen-hour shifts a week and on Sunday morning was just coming off a stretch of nights. It was never good when his third night landed on a Saturday. Everyone knew Saturday night in the ED sucked ass, and last night had been no exception. The area was just getting into the swing of summer, and folks were staying up too late, drinking too much, and mixing those two factors with boats and motorcycles and guns. Not good.
    He’d earned his upcoming days off, and he was going to spend most of this one asleep. He walked through the main doors of the ED, planning to take the longer, outdoor route to the ramp garage. A little natural light and fresh air would wake him up enough for the short drive home.
    He shaded his eyes from the reflection of the sun as it shone through the glassed-in walkway between the hospital and the garage. And because of that he almost missed her. But he caught a glimmer of black hair swaying down nearly to her ass. A slim, well-curved figure with shapely legs bare under a short swing skirt.
    Hot damn. It had been years since he’d given her any conscious thought. Evangeline.
    Suddenly he was running, his fatigue forgotten. Like an idiot, he leaped over the half-height cement wall of the garage, chancing having to explain to his oncoming colleagues how he broke his ankle with skirt-chasing, sleep-deprived gymnastics.
    But the important thing was he reach her, and he did,