Free The Sextet Presents… Turn Another Paige [A Toy Story] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Elizabeth Raines Page A

she’d even made a few friends.
    It still wasn’t home, and those people weren’t Jude and Mike.
    No doubt the locals had concocted all sorts of stories about the strange woman living in the cabin. Perhaps they thought she was a friend of Rachel’s parents. Maybe they assumed she was a runaway Mafia wife. They might even have imagined she was hiding from an abusive husband.
    A frown settled on her face, something that happened most of the time when she wasn’t totally absorbed in writing her book. Whenever she let her mind wander, it always went right back to the same place—her guys.
    After weeks of her being gone, they hadn’t come for her, which meant one of two things. Either Rachel had kept her promise and hadn’t told Mike and Jude where she’d gone to hide, or they didn’t truly care that she’d left.
    What had they been doing? Did Mike get to keep his job as she’d hoped? Was Jude being sure to get enough rest between shifts? Who was doing the laundry since she wasn’t? Hell, Mike would throw everything together, wash it all on the “hot” setting, and then throw the whole lump in the dryer on “high.”
    Heaven knew neither of them would clean their bathroom. They were probably using the same sheets they’d used before she left. The apartment probably smelled like guy—dirty socks, musty towels, and garbage no one took to the Dumpster.
    In her heart, she’d held out hope that they’d realize how much she did as a roommate and decide they needed her. How naïve . They were grown men. They could take care of themselves.
    She missed them almost more than she could bear.
    The normal sounds of the woods—the happy bird chirps and the rustle of the wind through the trees—were interrupted by the crunch of gravel up the long drive.
    A car?
    Her heart leaped into a faster rhythm as she worried about being isolated out here on her own—something that made her careful about locking doors every night—until she saw the car. Then her heart seemed to stop beating for a few long moments, and her chest squeezed so tightly she had trouble drawing a breath.
    Her guys had come for her.
    Jude had been driving the same Honda Civic since college. It had more mileage than a car should be able to acquire, but he swore the piece of shit still got great gas mileage and saw no reason to buy something new. Since the garage at the hospital had incredibly small parking spaces, it got dinged daily by other car doors, so he held on to the antique. This was the first time she’d ever been ecstatic to see it.
    Downing the rest of the sangria for courage, Paige set the empty glass aside. Now that the three of them were together again, what would happen?
    Would there be a confrontation? Were they angry with her? Or were they concerned about her well-being? Were they here to try to bring her back? If they were coming to take her home, why? Obligation? Regret? Sex?
    Her whole life she’d overthought everything, often becoming her own worst enemy by drawing conclusions that would later be shown as dead wrong. Trying to learn from her mistakes, she kept an open mind as she waited for them to come to her. They were making the first move by finding her and taking the long trek to the cabin, so she’d give them the opportunity to have their say first.
    Mike, as usual, strode right for her like a charging bull. “Paige! What the hell? We’ve been worried sick.”
    Jude joined right in. “You should have told us you were leaving.”
    “Why?” she asked.
    “Are you fucking kidding me?” Mike put his hands on his hips and glared down at her. “ Why? Because you’re our friend.”
    Paige didn’t like that response one damn bit. She stood up, grabbed her empty glass, and headed into the cabin for a refill of sangria. Since this was obviously going to be a fight, and not a passionate reconciliation, she wanted to brace herself for any nasty things they would say that could reopen wounds that had barely begun to scab over.
    Oh,