She feared the answer.
Setting aside the rose-jasmine vial, she reached for the vanilla-lavender one, with high expectations that the small crop she’d grown in Tova’s solarium might be as rich and sensual as she’d anticipated when she’d planted the hybrid.
Thank God for Tova, she thought. Not that Fallon would sob on her shoulder at their next Sunday brunch. If she could help it, anyway. But the woman just seemed to get Fallon on a level no one else did.
Well, aside from Morgan and Devon.
Or so she’d thought.
Ignoring the prickle at the backs of her eyes, Fallon dabbed a little of the vanilla-lavender on her wrist and inhaled deeply.
Not too bad. But it clearly needed more time to blend. So she set it aside and reached for the pumpkin-cinnamon-spice. Just as her cell rang.
She would have let it go to voice mail, but it was the jingle reserved for the front desk. She snatched up her phone and hit the connect button.
“Good evening, Miss Carteris. This is Simon from security. You have visitors.”
Fallon pulled the phone away from her ear and consulted the time on the display. Then she said, “At eleven o’clock at night?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you. They said it was urgent. Mr. Devon McMillan and Mr. Morgan Presley.”
She rolled her eyes. Of course Simon would have no choice but to announce them. The man wanted to keep his job, after all.
She said, “Fine, Simon. Send them up.”
Fallon disconnected the call and stood. She stared at the disaster sprawled across her kitchen floor and figured there was no point in trying to clean it up in the few minutes it would take Devon and Morgan to reach her.
Sparing a glance at her messy attire—and knowing her librarian updo and scrubbed face were throwbacks to her childhood as a plain Jane—she felt the aggravation mount.
Devon and Morgan had no business coming to see her days after the members-only party. Or this late in the evening. And just as their offer on the club was reaching its expiration.
What was their plan? To torture her with an in-person sayonara, sweetheart before they blew out of her life?
Now the tears stung as she tried to hold them at bay.
Tova had told her to change their minds.
Fallon had insisted they not sign the deal and she had played that moment at the party over and over in her brain since she’d uttered the words. They hadn’t come after her following her declaration, nor had they called her, texted her, e-mailed her, or visited her in the two days that had passed.
She fully comprehended that they’d been in an awkward state after their previous threesome, as Devon had told her. And she got that Morgan was struggling with whether or not to sell the club. But she’d been fully engaged with them from the time they’d returned to Bayfront. And she’d never had any intention of pushing them further apart.
But she inadvertently had.
In the process, she’d become a good time at a mutual port that they were no longer interested in exploring.
That cut deep.
Fallon paced the small foyer as she waited for them, realizing that her thoughts were ridiculously jumbled. She didn’t know if she was analyzing any of this correctly or even sanely. There were too many conflicting notions to really assess whether she was coming or going in this whole crazed scenario. And that left her more uncertain, disconcerted, turned around—
Until her doorbell rang.
And she pulled the door open.
And there they were.
Devon Bryan McMillan. Carefree playboy.
Morgan Jared Presley. Intensely serious businessman.
Both devastatingly handsome even \without the tuxedos she’d last seen them in.
They were also . . . Friends. Confidants. Protectors.
Lovers.
How had this all gone so awry?
Fallon took a step back to let them in, her heart pounding, her pulse racing. The uncertainty clawing at her.
Her conversation with Tova returned to her. So did the one with Sylvia.
You’re so silly sometimes. Devon and Morgan bought my building.
Sylvia had told her that—with a twinkle in her eyes. Along with a knowing smile Fallon hadn’t been able to comprehend at the time.
Because she’d been furious.
Because she’d jumped to her own conclusion.
Because . . . She’d been hurt.
The pain had sliced through her so quickly. So easily. As though she’d innately expected it to happen. She’d latched onto it after Morgan had slipped out while she was sleeping, and had held fast to it when Sylvia had said they’d bought the building Fallon needed.
They’d done it as a grand gesture toward her, she realized. But she still couldn’t shake the thought that it was a going-away present. Something to placate her as they left her.
Devon leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
Morgan whisked away what she assumed to be a dab of exploded lotion on her jaw, then brushed his lips over hers. He murmured, “I’m sorry.”
Devon shut the door behind them as Fallon stared up at Morgan.
She said, “I understand the dilemmas you’ve both faced recently. But I really wanted you to be lying next to me when I woke up with Devon.”
“And next time I will. I promise.”
Her brow rose. “Next time?”
“Fallon, sweetheart.” Devon took her by the hand and led her over to the sectional. He sat alongside her as Morgan stood in front of them. Devon said, “The offer on the club expired at five p.m.”
Her pulse now beat a bit too fast, making it difficult to breathe. “And?”
“We didn’t respond,” Morgan told her.
“What does that mean?” she asked. And could her insides twist any tighter? “Do they issue an extension and try to entice you with more money?”
“We’re not selling, sweetheart,” Devon assured her. “Period.” He squeezed her hand.
Relief washed over her. But then the tension instantly returned as another thought occurred to her. “You’re wanting to build in the Hamptons. Are you moving to the East Coast for good? What about you?” Her gaze lifted to meet Morgan’s. “Are you going back to Seattle?”
“Actually, we have different living arrangements in mind.” Morgan retrieved a small box from the inner pocket of his dark-gray suit jacket and handed it over.
“What is this?” she skeptically asked as she stared at the pale blue box with white satin ribbon tied around it and TIFFANY & CO. stamped across the middle. “A gold key ring for the building? You know I can’t accept a building from you. From either of you.”
“It’s actually a platinum ring,” Devon informed her. “And, yes, you can. We insist. Open the box.”
“Devon, an entire building is just too much and . . .” She shook her head as Devon gazed intently at her. Then she sighed and pulled the bow loose. She removed the lid and the black jeweler’s box inside. Flipped open that lid . . . and gasped.
Fallon’s heart leapt into her throat as she stared at the platinum ring. A real, live, honest-to-God ring. A ring ring!
An amazingly sensational heart-shaped diamond that had to be at least three carats. Maybe four. Large enough to make a statement, yet still elegantly tasteful.
Morgan knelt next to her. Tears sprang to her eyes. He said, “We want you to be ours.”
Devon knelt on the other side of her. “Even if it’s not on paper, it will be official, Fallon. To all of us. With that ring on your finger. And the two we picked out for each of us.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “You’re serious.”
“Damn straight,” Devon told her.
She glanced over at Morgan. “And you.”
He swept away some of the tears trickling down her cheek and said, “I’m so, so sorry, Fallon. It wasn’t you at all. And it won’t happen again. You can count on me.” He kissed her softly. “Always.”
More tears flowed.
“Do you like it?” Morgan asked.
“I love it,” she said on a broken breath. “I love both of you.”
“The feelings are mutual, sweetheart.” Devon grinned. Then he took the ring from the black velvet box and slid it onto her finger. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
She let out a small laugh. “I didn’t even realize it was the fourteenth. I was so . . . Upset. I wasn’t even thinking about what day it is.”
“We had a lot of juggling to do to in order to nail down all the details before we came to you,” Morgan explained. “But the bottom line is, we’re both staying in Bayfront. In fact, we’re looking at land for an estate on the hillside. For the three of us.”
Her eyes widened.
Devon added, “In the meantime, Tova and Dag invited all of us to live with them. You know how Morgan’s mom loves to have the mansion filled with people.”
“So she knows about the ring?”
“We consulted with her last night,” Morgan confessed. “Us being of the lesser romantic variety. We wanted to do this just right.”
Fallon sniffled. “Then you should have given me some advance warning so that I could have made myself presentable.”
“You’re beautiful, Fallon,” Morgan assured her with warmth in his whisky eyes.
“Absolutely perfect,” Devon agreed. Then he kissed her. Sweetly, sexily. Her heart fluttered.
She turned to Morgan. His mouth pressed to hers, their lips parted, their tongues tangled. Heatedly, passionately. Every nerve ending ignited.
She hadn’t driven Devon and Morgan further apart. She’d brought them back together. To be with her.
“This is perfect.” She smiled through her tears.
And suddenly . . . All of Fallon’s dreams had come true.