Page 32 of Their Pup to Tame

“Oookay, not what I expected,” he replied. “But cool, as long as I don’t wind up with snails on my plate.”

“I promise, there are no snails. Just giant slabs of meat, baked potatoes that will melt in your mouth, and pie with as many flavors to choose from as the farm stand has toppings.”

“Seriously?” he asked, eying the converted manor house with skepticism. “Because it looks way too fancy for what you’re describing to me.”

“Because most of it is a bed-and-breakfast, the steakhouse is this way,” I said and took his hand, leading him up the walkway.

There was a small party of four in front of us and a couple in front of them, but Jamie tried to wave me forward when he spotted me. Shaking my head, I stayed where I was, with a mental note to speak to him about that later. There was no reason for him to treat me any differently when I dropped in.

“Man, that smells good,” Phoenix said once we were seated in an alcove with a magnificent view of the valley and the long shadows the sun was beginning to cast across it. “There’s nothing better than pigging out after a long ride.”

“I think that’s true no matter what the mode of transportation is.”

“I just have one question for the man with the convertible,” he said. “If you buy it to drive with the top down, why not just get a motorcycle and be done with it?”

“Because I prefer to be the passenger when I’m on two wheels, or three.”

“Ahh. So the car is…?”

“Beautifully suited to the illusion.”

“If you say so,” he said. “Not that I mind you hanging on to me, but if neither of you two ride, the only way we can go anywhere together is going to be in Aspen’s SUV.”

“That’s the conclusion I came to as well.”

“I’m going to have to get used to riding in a cage,” he moaned.

“Does that mean you’re choosing us over the motorcycle?” I asked, winking so he’d know I was just giving him shit.

“That or one of you is going to have to follow or be left behind,”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

“Maybe you can play rock-paper-scissors,” he remarked, tapping his chin with his index finger.

He’d taken his fingerless gloves off and set them between us on the horseshoe-shaped bench. Every alcove had one, and the best part was that there was room for five if you added a chair. When I’d texted Aspen to tell him where we were stopping for supper, he’d texted back a sad-face emoji followed by a middle-finger one when I said we wouldn’t be able to bring anything back for him since we were on Phoenix’s bike.

“Or flip a coin or something.”

“Or maybe we can just hogtie you and stuff you in my trunk.”

“Back to your non-existent trunk space again.”

Our waitress brought menus and took our drink orders all with a straight face, though I knew she’d heard every bit of our conversation.

“Seriously, though,” I said, pressing the menu down on the table when he went to raise it. I needed to see his eyes for this. “Is being with the two of us something you’d consider, or are you trying to make up your mind about which of us to choose?”

“Shouldn’t Aspen be part of this conversation too?”

“Ideally, but since he isn’t here right now and I’m impatient as hell… Can you please put me out of my misery? I know what I want the answer to be, but not everyone is open or comfortable with a poly lifestyle.”

“I’m good with it being the three of us,” Phoenix replied, and actually looked relieved. “I hoped neither of you would ask me to choose, because I don’t think I would have been able to. Spending time with you both is awesome, whether it’s one on one or when the three of us are together, but it is more fun when it’s the three of us. Unless we’re playing UNO, then Aspen is just mean.”

“Tell me about it! He’s like that with every card game, I swear. I have never seen anyone have that kind of luck everywhere else but at a casino. As soon as he sets foot in one, lady luck abandons him at the door, and it’s like he’s never played cards before. Late-night poker with the guys at the theater, he cleans up. Saturday gin with the drag queens, he’s vicious. Vegas? He tucked tail and went to a burlesque show.”

“I bet he would not like you telling me that, either.”

“Probably not, but it’s too late now,” I replied, snickering and letting go of his menu.