Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

She thought about the question. If Helen had come to her, what would she have said? She grimaced. “She’s sleeping with my dad. That’s gross.”

Griffith was silent.

Kelly groaned. “I see your point. I should accept who my friend wants to hang out with. But it’s my father. Come on. You have to admit there’s an ick factor. Do you want to think about your parents having sex?”

“Nope.”

“Helen and I talk about stuff. Intimate stuff.”

“Did she know about you and Sven?”

It took Kelly a second to figure out what he meant. She flushed. “That I never climaxed?” She turned away. “I didn’t mention that, no.”

“Everyone keeps secrets, Kelly. Even you.”

“I know, but...” She sighed. The mature response of a six-year-old. Yes, but.

He was right. They all had secrets, even Helen. Even her dad. She winced.

“I honestly have no idea what I’m supposed to think or tell her. The sex is part of it, and I get what you’re saying about her worrying about what I would say or think, but still. She’s with my dad and she never told me. This could have been going on for years. It makes our entire friendship a lie.”

“You might want to reconsider that stance. You love Helen. She’s a good friend and you’d miss her if things changed.”

“I don’t want things to change. I want them to go back to how they were.”

Griffith was wise enough not to say anything and Kelly couldn’t hide from what she hadn’t said aloud. Things going back to how they’d been didn’t mean how she thought they should be.

*

Sven ran his hands down Olivia’s bare back. She lay on top of him, their bodies satiated, their breathing still ragged.

No matter how they made love, somehow they always ended up in this position—pressed tightly together. Around him she felt small and delicate. She supposed no matter how capable she wanted to be in the rest of her life, in bed with Sven she was safe enough to be feminine.

She sat up and straddled his waist, then pressed her hands on his chest. She could feel the power of his muscles. Now, like this, they blended together, but when he stood, they would be defined. He was a beautiful man, she thought absently.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“That I like looking at you.”

He smiled. “I like looking at you, as well.”

She groaned. “I’m sorry. I’m just not that comfortable prancing around naked after we have sex.”

“I’ve never seen you prance.” His eyebrows rose suggestively. “Can you demonstrate?”

She laughed and slid off the bed. “Not today, big guy.” When she was standing, she stretched her arms up toward the ceiling, then bent over to press her palms flat on the floor. She shrieked when she felt teeth on her butt and spun to face him.

Sven shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself. Open that.” He pointed to the top dresser drawer.

Unexpected nerves fluttered in Olivia’s chest as she crossed the carpet and pulled on the drawer. Inside it was empty except for a wrapped present the size of a shirt box. She returned to the bed and sat next to him.

“For me?”

He hesitated. “For both of us, I think.”

While she was more than willing to try just about anything, she had to admit a sex toy would be just a little disappointing. She opened the box and saw he’d bought her lingerie. A light green lacy little thong with matching cropped T-shirt trimmed in the same lace.

“I like looking at your body,” he said as he got out of bed. “You are uncomfortable naked. I thought this would please us both.”

The unexpected gift was all the more precious because of his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” she said, standing and giving him a quick kiss. “I love them both.”

She pulled on the thong, then slipped on the T-shirt. The latter was way too low and tight, exposing more of her breasts than it covered, but she guessed that was the point. She turned slowly, wiggling her butt when her back was to him.

“What do you—”

Her sentence was cut off in a shriek as she found herself being flung onto the bed. Sven had her on her back in a nanosecond. Five minutes later, they were both on the edge of surrender.

“Remind me to buy you more lingerie,” Sven said when they’d finished and were walking into the kitchen together.

She laughed. “It did seem to be a gift we could both enjoy.”

She’d put her thong back on and felt both sexy and covered just enough to be comfortable. Sven was naked, although he tied an apron around his waist before he walked to the refrigerator. He collected marinating meat, cut-up watermelon, goat cheese and a few other ingredients. She set the table. When she was done, she settled on a stool by the island to watch him cook.

He’d already diced red onion and jalapenos. He had a couple of avocados by his cutting board. Watermelon and goat cheese salad went into a serving bowl next to a loaf of crusty French bread. Her stomach growled.

“Your cooking is possibly your second-best skill,” she teased.

“I’m glad you think so.” He poured orange juice into a tall, thin glass, added a single sugar cube, then filled it with champagne before passing it to her.

“You spoil me.”

“I like making you happy.”

An unusual and exciting characteristic in a man, she thought. He was nothing like the other men she’d known. Ryan was a complete selfish bastard when it came to anything—even sex. Or maybe that was “especially sex.” All of which begged the question of why on earth she’d come home for him. She looked at Sven. Of course there had been compensations. He was one of them, as was reconnecting with her family.

Speaking of which... “Kelly’s being a total butthead.” She told him what had happened at the bar and how her sister had bolted. “Helen noticed. She looked upset. I’m not sure if I should stop by and talk to her. She’s much more Kelly’s friend than mine.”

Sven stared at her. “Helen and Jeff?”

“Uh-huh.”

He thought for a second. “I can see it. She’s very beautiful and he’s strong. She needs someone strong.”

“You think Helen is beautiful?”

“Of course. Why are you surprised?”

Olivia felt trapped. “You’re so into fitness,” she hedged.

“You thought I’d judge her because she’s heavy?”

“Maybe.”

He shocked her by flashing a grin. “I doubt there’s a man around who hasn’t imagined what it would be like to have her in his bed. Her breasts, her hips. Who wouldn’t want that?”

Olivia stood and put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”

He put down his spatula and crossed to her. “I am faithful, Olivia. I always have been. You’re my woman. But when I was single, I briefly considered Helen before coming to the conclusion we were better as friends.” He kissed her. “She’ll be good for your dad and he’ll be good for her.”

She was still caught up in him calling her his woman. Was she? Were they? The possibility made her just the tiniest bit giddy.

“At least I don’t have to worry about my parents getting back together,” she said as he returned to the stove. “But Kelly is going to have to get over it.”

“She’s never liked change.”

“Tell me about it.” She sipped her mimosa. “So, big guy, who else did you consider to be your woman?”