Love Him Wild

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Love Him Wild Page 24

by E M Lindsey


  “What happened?” Parker asked.

  Jonas dragged both hands down his face, then let his head fall back against the mattress. Two sets of legs pressed on either side of him, and a hand drifted to his hair. The fingers were thick and gentle, and it stirred something in him that he knew it was Ronan’s touch.

  “Peter had a stroke. That was my mom.”

  “Did he live?” Parker asked quietly.

  “He did. I have to go, though. He can’t work anymore.” Jonas swallowed then, pushed to his feet and began to gather his clothes. He wasn’t sure how he felt that Ronan and Parker let him dress, let him take the space his body was asking for, but his heart didn’t want. The jeans felt stiff and scratchy against his legs, and all he wanted was to be back in that tangle of warm, naked limbs.

  He couldn’t bear to look at their faces. It was over, that much he knew. There was no saving this. He had asked for a solution to the problem with his father, had thrown it into the universe and begged—but he hadn’t wanted this. This—this came with too much.

  It came with responsibility, and money, and the passing of the torch, and taking over this fucking company—and everything he’d been trying to escape. He had wanted out from under Peter’s thumb, but not at the expense of Jonas’ freedom.

  He didn’t realize he was struggling for breath until Ronan had him in his arms. He was cocooned by large biceps, and a few moments later, Parker had a cool glass pressed to his lips. When he took a sip, he choked a bit, having expected water but getting something sweet and rich.

  “You need the sugar,” Parker told him, and made him take another sip. “You’re having a panic attack, the sex last night was intense, and you’ve had a shock.”

  Jonas closed his eyes and simply let himself feel the way Ronan was holding him, let the warmth of his body seep through his clothes that smelled like the barbeque smoke from last night, and a little like Parker’s cologne.

  “I’m sorry I have to go,” Jonas said.

  Ronan huffed a laugh. “Your dad just had a stroke.”

  “That’s not,” he said, then shook his head. “I have to go. They’re making me take over the company and… I have to…there’s so much I have to,” he stuttered to a stop, and Ronan petted a hand down his back. “I shouldn’t have started this with you.”

  “Please don’t say that,” Parker breathed out. He went to a knee by the side of the bed and laid his hand on Jonas’ arm. “Please don’t regret us.”

  Jonas shook his head, then squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t regret you. I regret the fucking mess I made by stepping into your lives. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was going to quit. I was going to quit, and move here, and figure out how to stop him from ruining everything.”

  Parker lifted up higher and pressed his hand to Jonas’ cheek. “Why is it different now?”

  “Because this is so much more complicated, and it’s going to take so much more time,” Jonas said, now feeling the weight of what this all meant. He didn’t have to keep the company, but in no world could he just sign a piece of paper and walk away. It would take months, if he was lucky. “I can’t ask you to wait.”

  “You don’t need to,” Ronan told him, holding on a little tighter. “We weren’t looking for a third when we met you, Jonas. You were unexpected and unplanned.”

  Jonas felt that like a blow, even though he knew it was meant to be kind. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  At that, Parker quieted him with a kiss. He pulled back with a series of soft pecks, then laid a hand on Jonas’ knee. “Go back to the Lodge and get your things together and fly home. And promise me,” he added before Jonas could feel like he was being thrown out, “that you will Skype us tonight.”

  He blinked at him, then twisted to look up at Ronan who was watching him with a carefully hooded expression. “Why?”

  “Because this isn’t over,” Ronan said. “Because we weren’t expecting you, but we have you.”

  “We don’t give up that easy,” Parker said.

  Jonas closed his eyes once more, but he let Ronan shift him up to take a kiss, and he let Parker take the second one. And then he climbed to his feet and grabbed his keys, and when he left the house, he didn’t look back. They didn’t walk him to the door either, and he didn’t see them in the window.

  It was better that way, because if he had even a hint of a reason to stay, he would have. And that would have ruined everything.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Parker had plans for Skype, but he wasn’t going to implement them the first night. Just seeing Jonas’ exhausted face on his screen was enough to soothe his worries and alleviate the guilt he felt for not at least sending Ronan with him to the airport. And maybe Jonas wanted that. Maybe he wanted Parker or Ronan or both to run after him and make big, grand promises that it was all going to be okay.

  But Parker was, if nothing else, a realist. He was brutally honest about his life, about himself, about his husband. He knew deep down he wasn’t the best person, that he didn’t always try, and that he was selfish. He knew that he would both die and kill for Ronan, and he knew now that Jonas was slowly but surely finding an equal place in his heart.

  He also knew that Jonas needed to feel this pain before he could piece everything back together.

  “My house has never felt so empty before,” Jonas admitted. He looked soft and sweet in a ragged t-shirt and sweatpants. His hair was mussed, and his glasses were slightly askew, and Parker hated that he couldn’t reach out and order him. “I think my fish were happy to see me, though.”

  Ronan chuckled from his place behind Parker on the bed. They were both relaxed from a blowjob in the shower, and an extra-long exercise session for Ronan had taken some of the edge off, but not much. Hooking his chin on Parker’s shoulder, Ronan slid a hand around his waist. “Can we see them?”

  “My fish?” Jonas frowned, but he pushed himself off the sofa and walked across the room. It was a little disorienting to watch the way the background shook as he walked, and Parker hated that he only had these tiny glimpses of Jonas’ life and his home through the small screen. But it didn’t matter, not really. He had Jonas’ face filling up his laptop, and the sound of his rumbling, deep voice in his bones.

  He turned his phone around to show a wide, bright tank with LED lights and several brightly colored fish swimming around. They looked spoiled—if fish could be spoiled. Their tank was high tech and full of live plants and structures to hide in.

  “Did you name them?” Parker asked.

  “I just called them numbers,” Jonas admitted with a sheepish laugh. “The two angelfish are thing one and two. I got them first. Then the rest I just, I don’t know. I’ve never had a pet.”

  “I think it’s cute,” Ronan said when Jonas turned the phone back around to face himself. He looked exhausted, the spaces around his eyes black with fatigue and stress. Ronan made a soft noise, pressing more of his body against Parker. “What time do you have to deal with stuff tomorrow?”

  “First thing,” Jonas said. He slumped onto what Parker assumed was a kitchen counter, and he rested his chin in his palm. “My mom’s a chronically early riser, and I know she wants to get the ball rolling. She’s coming to a couple of the meetings with me to make sure the transfer goes well, then she’ll be back at the rehab hospital with Peter.”

  Parker hummed. “Hey, Sparky?” Jonas perked up a little at that, just as Parker had wanted him to. “Why didn’t your mom get the company?”

  Jonas snorted another laugh, this one maybe a little bitter. “She didn’t want it. She wanted his worth, not the responsibility. He loved her, but I don’t think the feeling was mutual.”

  Parker’s guts twisted around themselves, squeezing like a vice. Jonas was hurting. Jonas had been hurting most of his damn life, and no one had ever tried to make his landings softer. No one had ever tried to be easy with him. It was a wonder he’d turned out the way he did. Parker had known people who’d gone through not even half as much
and had come out ten times worse.

  The sharpness of their lives made them cruel—had stripped away their empathy.

  But Jonas was nothing like that, and he hated that he and Ronan were powerless in this situation.

  “Do you know what you’re going to do?” Ronan eventually asked.

  Jonas’ eyes closed and didn’t open. “I…think, maybe?” His voice rose at the end like a question, but Parker wasn’t sure it was one. “I have some ideas, but I can’t march in there and start ordering people around with Peter still fresh in the hospital.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ronan said softly. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

  At that, Jonas looked into the camera and managed a laugh that sounded genuine and sweet. “Trust me, this is not making it worse. It’s just not the situation I was planning for.”

  “Well,” Parker said, and he made sure Jonas was looking right at him before he spoke again, “we’re not going anywhere, okay? There’s space for you here. Not just for someone—for you.”

  Jonas swallowed thickly, his jaw tense. Then he smiled, though it looked like it had taken herculean effort to do it. “I miss you so damn much.” He laughed again, this time tense. “Is that insane? Like, literally? Is it insane to miss you this much? We’ve been on like two dates and kind of fucked once…”

  “It is what it is,” Ronan told him. The soothing rumble of his voice seemed to affect Jonas in the same way it always affected Parker. “There’s no right or wrong here. Not with us. There just is. And Parker’s right, we will be here when it’s over.”

  “Thank you,” Jonas whispered.

  “You should get to bed.” Parker shifted back, taking the laptop with him, and he balanced it on his chest as he leaned against Ronan’s shoulder. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Jonas yawned, scrubbing at his face and looking very vulnerable and very young.

  The distance was more painful than anything Parker had experienced since Ronan had turned away from him, and it took everything in him not to fire up the airline website and just buy a damn ticket to Arizona. “Text me in the morning.”

  “I will.” Jonas looked at them for a long, aching moment, and then the screen went dark.

  Neither of them dared to move—not for a while. Then Ronan’s hand reached out, and he gently closed the lid of the computer and set it aside. Speaking then felt wrong in the swirling pain of helplessness he knew they were both feeling. They could take comfort in each other’s arms, and it felt cruel and wrong that Jonas was denied this.

  But it was what it was, just like Ronan said. They had lives in Cherry Creek, and neither of them were in the position to abandon everything to help fix a mess they had no power to fix. All they could do was keep their promise to be there every night, and to hold that space open for Jonas when he came back.

  Parker wasn’t sure if that faith was misplaced or not, but Jonas was worth the effort of believing.

  The morning at the office was harder than usual with Jonas so far away. Parker had grown too accustomed to having him there in such a short time, and the very idea of him was twisted intricately through all their knots. He had woken in Ronan’s arms, comfortable and yet like a piece of him was missing, and he knew the day was going to drag. Normally keeping busy helped him on days when he was wound up, but he found his patience waning as the afternoon crept on.

  When Eddie called him for his second appointment of the day, Parker tried not to sigh as he glanced down at the chart. This was Kyle’s fourth appointment that month, and he knew it was near time to be a bit more blunt with him than he liked to be with his other patients. He’d been seeing him since he was sixteen—since he’d first come in and asked Parker for an STI test. Parker had spent most of his career in Cherry Creek trying to provide some actual sexual health care to teens who didn’t have the same opportunities for education than most did in the larger cities.

  Parker encouraged healthy sexual exploration. He encouraged safe sex, and provided condoms, and testing when he had kits, and he had enough stories in his own past during his undergraduate years for advice in nearly any situation. But Kyle had gone from wanting advice to a sort of under-handed attempt at seduction, and Parker knew it was time to put an end to it. He’d watched Kyle set his sights on the Motel brothers, but only after their relationships became committed. Kyle eventually got bored of trying after James nearly eviscerated him for flirting with Levi in his food truck window, so over the last month, he apparently decided Parker was his new target.

  He pasted on a half-smile, then stepped into the office to find Kyle wearing a gown which the nurse had not left out for him, and a shit-eating grin. “Dr. Alling. Did you think you’d be seeing me again so soon?”

  “Considering your full work-up came back entirely negative,” Parker said, sliding into his chair and not looking to where Kyle had slightly parted his legs, “I have to say no. Is there something we missed?”

  “Actually, I was here for advice,” Kyle said.

  Parker cleared his throat. “You thought the gown was necessary for advice?”

  Kyle looked utterly unapologetic. “They’re comfy?” Parker gave him a flat look, and Kyle rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Do you want me to take it off?”

  “No,” Parker said, and Kyle’s grin widened. “What can I help you with?”

  “You’ve always given me really good advice, and…” Kyle shifted toward the edge of the table. “I wanted to know what your thoughts are on polyamory.”

  Parker blinked and allowed the question to hit him in ways he was unprepared for. The timing was nothing more than a coincidence—he knew that much. But the moment Kyle said the word, Jonas’ face floated into view, behind his eyelids with his slow blink. His sweet smile, his nervous hands, the way he wanted both Parker and Ronan, but still found himself so unworthy no matter how much they showed their raw and visceral desire for him.

  “I don’t think polyamory is for everyone,” Parker said, pushing to his feet. “I think that it takes hard work and understanding—embracing the idea of jealousy and possessiveness as a reactionary thing that happens when you have more than one partner involved.”

  “You sound like you know from experience,” Kyle pressed.

  Parker pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s entirely none of your business.”

  Kyle stared at him for a long moment. “So, threesomes…”

  “Are not polyamory, necessarily,” Parker said a little sharply. “Polyamory and how it’s lived and practiced is a spectrum, just like any other sexual identity. But the most important part,” he said and gave Kyle a look because he knew the man teetered on the edge, “is consent.”

  Kyle waved his hand. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

  “Then can you explain further?” Parker asked, and Kyle sighed loudly.

  “I just mean, how many people—say in general—are into taking on someone else?”

  Parker let out a soft, displeased hum. “Are you asking because your partner wants to be involved in a polyamorous relationship?”

  Kyle laughed. “No. I don’t have a partner right now. I just kind of like the idea, you know?”

  Which was obvious, considering his actions over the last few years, but it wasn’t Parker’s place to tell him to stop. “I think—in the future—if you have willing partners who are interested in the lifestyle, you sit and have a long conversation about it. Spend time talking about what you want, what you expect, the things you’re nervous about—maybe even afraid of. Open communication is the only way it works.”

  “So, are you and Ronan…” he started again.

  “If there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to get dressed,” Parker said, cutting the conversation off at the heels.

  Kyle’s eyes narrowed, but his sigh was one of surrender, and he shook his head. “I guess that’s it.”

  “With any luck, you won’t need to come back until your annual exam next spring. Eddie will get you checked out up front. Have
a good day, Kyle.” With that, Parker left the room and shut the door with a loud click. He made a few notes on the chart, then walked it up to the front desk where Eddie was playing a bubble game on his phone.

  “How’d it go?” Eddie asked.

  Parker rolled his eyes. “Same as usual.”

  “You know, he asked me out like two months ago?” Eddie said, wrinkling his nose. “I told Charlie, but he laughed it off. It still kind of pisses me off that he hired him to work at the Lodge, but he said the guy’s harmless.”

  Parker drummed his fingers on the desk before passing over the chart so Eddie could get his bill ready. “It’s not my place to say,” and when Eddie gave him a snort, Parker fixed him with a stony glare. “I know I toe the line a lot with this job. With you,” he added, and Eddie had enough grace to look slightly ashamed. “I would never break confidentiality, but there are people who are willing to…cross lines, when they know they shouldn’t. It gives them a thrill that starts harmless, and then…”

  “Trust me, that guy is getting nowhere with any of the brothers,” Eddie said.

  Parker swallowed, then thought more about other people in the town—kinder, gentler people who might not know better. Who might be more vulnerable…and who might very well be overlooked. “I’m not worried about any of you. Just…maybe tell Charlie to keep his eye out, yeah?”

  Eddie’s brow dipped, and for the first time in a long time, he looked serious. “I will. Do you think…”

  “I’m not making an accusation. I’m just saying that it might be a good idea to be very careful when it comes to Kyle, especially when there are people who might not be able to protect themselves.”

  Eddie nodded, then sat back again and handed Parker a new chart. “You have Mrs. Millner waiting for you in three.”

  Parker tried not to groan. “Right.”

  “She just got a rough collie rescue. She has photos.”

 

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