Theirs to Keep - A Reverse Harem Romance

nope,” she shook her head. “I’m not a lawyer. Never was.”
Whew, I thought happily.
“My mother always did say I should be one though,” she added. “’Testardo’, she called me. That’s thick-headed in Italian.”
“You sure it doesn’t mean pain in the ass?” smirked Roderick.
“It could,” Karissa allowed. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit.”
She got up abruptly and crossed the room, moving like she owned the place. She grabbed the coffee pot and swished it around a bit, then frowned and put it down.
“Make another pot,” I told her. “I’ll have some too.”
The little sideways smile she shot me would’ve been worth downing ten pots of coffee, and all the visits to the bathroom that would follow. Karissa raised her empty mug my way.
“A man after my own heart.”
The room we were in would be the main galley — a sprawling, cavernous kitchen located at the very heart of the one-and-a-half century old palatial mansion. There were three other kitchenettes on the premises, including one in each wing and another in the guest house. But this, when finished, would be the beating heart of Southhold Manor.
It still didn’t seem real that we were actually doing it.
Karissa took my mug back to the coffee maker. She glanced back at me, this time with a mischievous sparkle behind her gorgeous blue eyes.
“Sugar? Cream?”
“Plenty of both, please.”
God, she was so fucking beautiful! And yet as our employee, totally untouchable as well.
Sorta.
No, forget sorta. Definitely untouchable.
It was pure dumb luck the way we’d found her: sitting there drinking alone, at the ass end of some ramshackle bar. We’d never gone to the place before, or returned since. But all the way in the corner, sipping on a gin and tonic, we somehow unearthed the best house assistant, supervisor, and ultimately, GC we’d ever had.
And hell, the three of us ran a construction company.
“So something happened with your place, eh?” Roderick guessed.
Karissa nodded. “It got broken into.”
“Again?” I swore.
“Yeah,” she chuckled. “Right? They took my mattress for fuck’s sake! Who the hell does something like that?”
We only stared at her, standing at the opposite counter as a beam of sun filtered through one of the high windows. It lit up her back, turning her long blonde hair into shimmering stands of spun gold.
“The joke’s on them though,” Karissa chuckled, “because it was the worst mattress in the world, too. I think it was like ninety-five percent springs.”
She formed a makeshift funnel from a paper towel, then poured coffee grinds into it in lieu of a real filter. She did it like a professional. Like she’d been doing it all her life.
Waitress, I reminded myself to guess next time. Maybe in an Italian restaurant.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” Camden asked. “This place might seem big, but only the west wing is livable. And even that side’s only half-finished.”
Karissa laughed. “Have you ever seen my place?”
“No, but all three of us are sharing one bathroom,” I said. “Living room, too.”
“Got room for one more?”
“Of course.”
“Then what’s the big deal?”
Roderick folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair a bit. As the kitchen filled with the steamy scent of freshly-dripped coffee, he seemed amused.
“Living with three grunting, burping, snoring guys might cramp your privacy, no?”
“Are you rescinding your offer?” she asked for the second time.
“Not at all,” Roderick said smoothly. “I’m only pointing out we made that offer before we moved back in here, when you would’ve had the place to yourself. But now we’re here too.”
“And we walk around in our underwear a lot,” smirked Camden. “Just so you know.”
Karissa chuckled. “Cool.”
“It might even be a house requirement, actually,” I said, before Roderick kicked my chair. “Er… I mean—”
“Look, I need a place to stay,” she said, leaning her elbows back on the counter. “If this works, let me know. If not…”
“Oh it works,” I said quickly. “Everything else is us joking around. Like Camden said, it would be great to have you.”
Camden nodded. Roderick too.
“Good,” Karissa smiled warmly. “Consider me a roomie, then.”
The coffee maker misfired, sending a brown rivulet down the side of the glass. The droplet hit the warming plate and turned to steam, sending a hissing sound through the kitchen.
“You need any help moving your stuff over?” asked Roderick.
Karissa broke into a cathartic laugh, one that was long and loud.
“Considering I can fit everything I’m taking with me under one arm?” she grinned. “Thanks for the offer, but that would be a ‘no’.”

Four
KARISSA
I took the third room on the left, counting back from the end of the hall. It was a huge room. They all were. But this one had a tremendous four-poster bed, as well as its very own fireplace. It was somehow large and cozy, and welcoming too.
A hundred years ago, someone had painted the walls and ceiling a lovely powder blue. Between all the fading and peeling, it resembled a serene sky filled with fluffy white clouds. I lay across my new mattress and bedding, that the guys had insisted on purchasing for me, and stared up into some fresco I couldn’t quite make out. I saw angels, or cherubs maybe. A pair of trumpets, aimed at the sky. The tip of a spear…
This is incredible.
The manor was impressive enough while I was working on it, but I’d always been busy. Now that I was living here, I had time to really soak it in. I walked the halls slowly, touching everything, realizing just how much work and effort went in to every tiny detail. Everything was carpeted, or paneled, or gold-gilded to perfection. Anything made of wood wasn’t merely molded or manufactured, it had been ornately carved by dozens of pairs of talented hands.
I’d checked all the rooms of course, before making my decision. All of them except one.
Because the room directly across from mine had been locked.
“You can have any room you like,” said Roderick, noticing I was struggling with the knob, “but that one stays locked.” He paused for a moment, perhaps