Triple Beat-nook(16)

“Wait!” she called out.

“What is it, Dani?” Aiden asked, stepping back into the room.

“Would you…” She hesitated, hating to show them how afraid she really was.

“Would we what?” Bryson returned to the bed, his brows furrowed with concern. “We’ll do anything for you. You know that.”

She bit her lower lip. “Would you guys sleep in here tonight?”

“Done,” Bryson said. “Scoot over. Into the middle. I’m not sleeping next to Aiden.”

She giggled, a mixture of relief and nervousness. Regardless of their past sleeping arrangements, they’d never shared a bed.

Aiden crossed to the opposite side, climbing in as well. The king-size bed had felt enormous when she was sleeping alone, but now that two big guys flanked her, the space shrank considerably.

Once they were beneath the covers, she belatedly remembered their states of relative undress. Both men were shirtless and her legs were completely bare as she was sleeping in her usual—a t-shirt and panties. One of these days she really should invest in proper pajamas.

Neither man seemed concerned by the lack of clothing. Or their unusually close quarters. It had been this way with Bryson and Aiden for as long as she could remember.

Aiden pounded the pillow a bit to fluff it up. “Just warning you now, Dani, if you tell Benji we climbed into this bed with you, we’ll both deny it. I’ll even swear on a stack of Bibles. I’d rather deal with God himself than Benji if it comes out that we slept together.”

Dani started to laugh, then realized Aiden had a valid point. Benji would most likely kill them all if he caught wind of this, regardless of how innocent it was. “I’ll never say a word. Because you guys wouldn’t be the only ones in mortal peril.”

Bryson snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re his little girl, the daughter he never had. Everybody in Nashville knows that.”

How Dani wished that were true. What would she give to have grown up with Benji as her father? How different would her childhood have been? “I love Benji. And he wouldn’t kill you if I pleaded for him to spare you.”

Aiden didn’t seem appeased. “I don’t fancy being maimed either. The man might like to brag about how Closing Time wouldn’t exist without him, but I think that would all fade into the background if he thought we took advantage of you. I need my fingers to play the fiddle.”

Benji’s was a local institution, well known for giving some of the biggest names in music their start. It wasn’t unusual for scouts and agents to appear at his weekly Songwriter Night to check out the latest talent.

Benji had long been aware of Dani’s interest in music. He’d caught her standing in front of a sink full of bar glasses, singing her heart out enough times to know she had what he called, “some damn good pipes”.

After a lot of coercion, he’d finally convinced her to sing one of her songs on Songwriter Night. Though it had been scary as hell to climb onto that tiny stage, once she’d taken her place in front of the mic, something clicked. It had been magic.

For almost a year, she was a staple on Benji’s stage and she’d sold a handful of her songs to agents shopping for their clients. She’d enjoyed the extra money, the chance to perform and her continued anonymity.

Then Bryson and Aiden walked in one night and had taken their turn on Benji’s stage. Their talent had held Dani spellbound, as they both had amazing voices. Bryson played the guitar and Aiden the fiddle. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off them as they’d performed.

Benji was equally impressed, and then the manipulative man somehow managed to convince the three of them to sing together for that night’s grand finale. It had been off-the-cuff, unrehearsed and perfect. Benji had an ear and he’d known exactly how well their three voices would blend.

And so a union was formed. The three of them collaborated on songwriting and continued to sing the final number every Wednesday night at Benji’s for three years. That was exactly how long it had taken for Aiden and Bryson to convince her to join them on other stages.

Once they had, Closing Time was formed, the name stemming from their regular spot at Benji’s. Her inclusion—taking their duo to a trio—had happened almost effortlessly after they’d decided to give it a try.

For a couple minutes they all lay awkwardly on their backs and she could tell both men were trying to keep a proper distance.

Bryson broke first. “Fuck it. I can’t sleep like this.” He turned toward her, twisting her until she faced away from him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, spooning her.