When the saw shut off, Shane turned back to his friend. “Keeping busy, I see.”
“I’m always busy these days. I’ve got orders that’ll take me well into the new year. What’re you doing here in the middle of the day?”
“Your wife and kids are at my house with my wife and kids and one of the special-ops tails. Talk about mayhem and bedlam. I couldn’t concentrate on the payroll anymore, so I decided to go for a ride. The truck kind of just steered its way over here.”
Yeah, that was a lie, but he wasn’t about to tell Drake he was there because Paige had instructed him to talk Drake into trying a ménage relationship with Blair and Grant. It was Tucker’s job to have the same chat with Grant. Shane had no idea why more people weren’t in ménages. It was so comforting to him to know that if something happened to him, Paige and Tucker would be there for each other. He wouldn’t be leaving either one of them alone. When their first wife, Sarah, had passed away after a brave fight against cancer, Shane had dealt with it far better than his husband had. But helping Tuck and their then four-year-old daughter, Ari, through their grief and depression had helped prevent Shane from falling into the same dismal abyss. Together, they’d healed each other, and when Paige had walked into their lives two years later, she’d brought with her a bright future for all of them.
Shane ran his hand over a finished dining table that could seat about twelve people. “Nice work, as always.”
Leaning his ass against a tool bench, Drake crossed his arms as his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t come here to talk about furniture, Shane. So, what do you want to talk about?”
Shrugging, Shane sat on a nearby stool. “I don’t know. Maybe your combined anger, hurt, jealousy, relief, fear, and all the other emotions churning through your gut since Grant’s reincarnation.”
Drake pivoted and gave Shane his back, mindlessly picking up tools and setting them back down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit, man. I know you better than almost anyone else around and vice versa. Hell, you were the first person I told when I figured out I liked both guys and girls back in high school. I still remember your response, ‘So? What’s that got to do with what you want on the damn pizza?’” It was true. Shane had blurted out he was bisexual while Drake had been getting ready to call in a delivery order when they’d been hanging out in the house across the driveway one night while Drake’s dad had been out somewhere. Drake’s response had shocked Shane more than his own realization about his sexual attraction to both men and women.
After setting his hands flat atop the tool bench, Drake dropped his head down. “I’m scared shitless, Shane. I’m so afraid Blair is going to choose Grant over me that I wish he was still dead to us. And that makes me a heartless bastard, doesn’t it? Some fucking brother I am. I can’t even be happy he’s alive and well, because he’s put my family and marriage in danger. I almost hate him for what he did to us. What he’s still doing to us.”
Sighing, Shane stood and strode over to his friend. “I get it, Drake. I do. I still have to keep my anger in check when I think about it all. But I’ll get over it someday, and so will you.”
“He still loves her. And despite her love for me, I know she still loves him too.”
“So, build on that.”
Standing erect again, Drake glared at Shane. “What are you talking about?”
“Share Blair—God, I’m going to have that rhyme in my head all day now. Just kidding—about the rhyme, not the sharing part.” Shane snorted. “Stop looking at me like I have three heads. Look, you have no problem with my threesome. It’s weird to some people, but you’ve always accepted it without prejudice. So, instead of worrying which one of you Blair is going to choose, why give her a choice at all? You’re both in love with her. She’s in love with both of you. Instead of looking at all the ways things could go to shit, look at how you and Grant can take care of your woman.” He gestured toward all the different projects Drake was in the middle of. “You just said, you’re busy as hell lately. I know Blair has started doing her work at night, because you’re splitting the child rearing and household chores, and that’s when you take over for her after being in here all day. You’re both exhausted by the time the day is done, right? Well, add Grant into the mix. He can help take care of all that and give you both the breathing room I know you’ve been missing lately. Raising three kids is tough, I know that, and I only have two.” He grinned. “But that’ll change in about seven months.”
Drake’s eyes widened. “Paige is pregnant again?”
“Hell, yeah. Not sure if it was my super sperm or Tucker’s this time, but, yeah, she told us the other day. It’s safe to let the cat out of the bag now, because she also told Nicole yesterday and Blair today.” Shaking his head, he continued. “But getting back to you, Blair, and Grant. Instead of worrying about losing her, why not bring Grant into your relationship. I know two brothers who share their wife—well, I don’t know them personally, but they’re friends with my cousin, Quinn. The sexual logistics aren’t as bad as you might think they are—you just have to get over any embarrassment of your junk accidentally brushing up against his junk. It happens, no matter how hard you try not to let it. Of course, I don’t have that problem with Tuck.”
“T.M.I., my friend.” Drake let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know about this. Hell, if—and that’s a big if—if I decide to go through with this, what if it’s not what Blair wants, or what Grant even wants? What if we try it and everything goes to hell?”
“And what if you try it and everything goes right? As for Blair, I’m sure the idea has crossed her mind at least once since Grant’s come home.”
“What? She said something to you today?”
“Me? No, we just said hello to each other.” That was true. He hadn’t discussed his pending visit with Drake because she’d been putting lunch together for the kids who’d joined her in the kitchen while Shane had been talking with Paige. “If she confided in anyone, it would be my wife. But since Blair reads ménage romance, I’m sure—”
“What?” The question was practically shouted in disbelief. If Drake’s eyebrows were any higher, they’d be in his hair. “What are you talking about?”
Shane snorted in amusement. “You’re kidding me, right? You don’t know what books your wife reads and translates? She’s in that book club with Paige, Nicole, and a bunch of other women—trust me when I say they love reading ménage romance. And I know they’ve gotten some of their books because of Blair’s recommendations after she’s translated them. Dude, get ahold of her e-reader one of these days. Some of those books are fucking hot. Tuck and I have Paige read us the sex scenes some nights, and I don’t think she’s ever gotten more than halfway through before we attack her.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. Try it sometime.” He glanced at his watch. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back, but promise me you’ll think about the ménage. I honestly think it will be the best thing for all three of you.”
Twenty minutes later, Shane and Paige assured Blair they had no problem with her kids sleeping over any night she needed them to if the scheme came to fruition. Shane would make sure the special-ops guys knew what was going on and set up a schedule with his ranch hands to help keep an eye on things while Trevor, Regan, and Michael were there. He just hoped Blair, Drake, and Grant would take the opportunity to open their minds and hearts and make it work between them.
Chapter Thirteen
Two days later . . .
As the other men gathered in the large workshop, Drake leaned against his tool bench. It’d been ten days since Grant had been resurrected from the dead—at least, that’s how Drake kept thinking about it—and they were still no closer to figuring out who’d sent the photos to Grant and Blair. Instead of being relieved nothing had happened, everyone seemed to be getting antsier and more frustrated. And Drake was worrying even more about losing his wife, although, she’d been trying t
o reassure him all week she wasn’t going to leave him. However, he hadn’t missed the way Grant watched Blair with a combination of regret and lust in his eyes, nor had he missed the sadness on Blair’s face whenever she looked at Grant. The only thing Drake could hope for was that they figured out what the hell was going on, so his brother no longer had an excuse to stay in Hazard. And, once more, Drake felt like a bastard for wanting Grant to disappear again so his marriage would be safe.
Drake also couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation with Shane the other day. Was a ménage really something the three of them could do? Was Drake willing to share his wife with his brother? They’d be subjected to the same ridicule the Wilsons were from the small-minded people in town. Did Drake want his wife and kids to go through that? And speaking of the kids, would it be fair to both Trevor and Grant to have the boy thinking his biological father was his uncle, at least until he was old enough to understand? When the time came for that awkward conversation, would Trevor hate them for not telling him sooner? God, there was so much on Drake’s mind, it was a miracle he could get through the day without going insane.
Looking around his workshop, Drake was once again reminded that his family was in danger—the question was, from whom? Lane, Tad, Graham, Shane, Tucker, and Seth had all arrived within the last few minutes, while Grant was pacing back and forth as he spoke on his phone with someone named Brody down in Florida. Meanwhile, Victor Price, one of the former Navy SEALs who’d been watching over Blair and the kids, was on his own cell phone with Ian Sawyer. Since things were getting drawn out, Vic was arranging for a few more special-ops guys to come in and give the others a break and expand the rotation schedule. Drake had been surprised to learn that Carter had insisted on paying for the extra security as long as they were needed. It had to be costing the guy a pretty penny, but if that’s what it took to ease his guilt-ridden mind, then Drake was all for it. While he and Blair were both making decent money in their respective careers, and had saved quite a bit, he doubted he could afford to pay eight highly trained men to guard his family. The same went for Grant—working in construction could pay well, but not that well.
While his friends were trying to learn who was behind this whole mess, and what their end game was, Grant had been cruising around town, during the day and night, looking for anyone familiar from his past with the agency. So far, with his facial hair growing out, a pair of dark sunglasses or fake reading ones, and a baseball cap, he’d managed to avoid being recognized by the residents of Hazard, but that’d probably been just sheer luck. No one would be expecting to see a ghost from over eight years ago—the last time Grant had visited Hazard with Blair. It also helped that the number of people walking around town had increased, exponentially, for the rodeo which started in three days.
Price disconnected his call, then turned to greet everyone. Within thirty seconds, Drake’s brother did the same. The frustration on Grant’s face was palpable, and Drake’s stomach sank. Obviously, he hadn’t received good news.
Thrusting his hands into his hair, Grant said, “Brody and Nathan have been hammering the Dark Web, trying to knock some prevalent intel out of it, but, so far, they’ve got nothing.”
Crossing his arms, Price leaned against the tool bench next to Drake. “If those two can’t find it, I doubt it exists. Sawyer pays those guys a lot of money because they’re both very good at what they do.”
“So, if they can’t find anything, most likely, there’s no hit on my head or Trevor’s or Blair’s heads either.”
“Which means, what?” Seth asked, voicing the same question running through Drake’s mind.
“It’s personal,” Price answered. “So, now the question is, who did you piss off, Hadley?”
Throwing his hands in the air, Grant shook his head. “How the fuck do I know? If it’s someone from my private life before I was captured, there’s a billion to one chance they suddenly spotted me in Florida and recognized me. There’s no one in my current life down there who can connect me to Hazard except Carter, Sawyer, and the Trident team, and I trust them. So, that leaves my professional life—someone at the agency, or someone who knew I was with the agency, who recently found out I’m not dead and holds a grudge for some reason.”
“Or someone who was behind the espionage charges and outed you in the first place.”
Grant froze in place and stared at the retired SEAL. “A traitor?”
Price shrugged. “It’s been known to happen; Sawyer agrees it’s a possibility. Whoever this asshole is, he’s biding his time and drawing out the anticipation.”
“So, he’s not just going to go away?” No one answered Drake’s rhetorical question. He’d been hoping, as the days ticked by, that whoever had sent the photos hadn’t done it for nefarious reasons, and they just wanted Grant to return to his family.
A thought crossed Drake’s mind, and as it took hold, it brought his anger raging to the surface again. He glared at his older brother. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? “Or does this asshole not exist at all?”
His eyes narrowing, Grant stared at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
He wasn’t the only one in the room with a bewildered look on his face.
Pushing off the bench, Drake took two threatening steps forward and dodged Shane’s hand when he tried to stop him. “What I mean, brother, is did you make up this phantom photographer and send those pictures yourself, so you’d have an excuse to come back to Hazard, play the hero, and win the girl again?”
Everyone else in the workshop went perfectly still as the question hung heavily in the air between the two brothers.
Grant gaped at Drake as if he’d grown horns, and then he sneered. “When did you become such an asshole?”
Without conscious thought, Drake lunged for him, but Tucker and Shane were faster and stopped his forward momentum with their muscular bodies. Lane and the chief appeared ready to grab Grant, but he clearly wasn’t willing to dive into a fight with Drake. Instead, he shook his head in disgust. “You have no idea why I didn’t come back to Hazard during the past year and a half, do you? You still haven’t figured it out.” He used his thumb to poke himself in the sternum. “I couldn’t. Once I heard you and Blair were married with kids . . . with my kid calling you ‘Dad’ . . . I couldn’t come back. I couldn’t put Blair in a position where she felt she had to choose between us. I couldn’t face her choosing you over me. And . . . and I couldn’t face her choosing me over you.” His eyes flared in pain as his voice changed to an agonized tone. “Damn it! You were there for her for the six fucking years I was in that hellhole. You stepped up and took care of her when you didn’t have to; you helped her bring Trevor into this world and became a good father to him.” Grant pointed toward the window and the main house across the yard. “You fell in love with her, and I don’t blame you one damn bit.” A tear rolled down his cheek as his voice broke. “I couldn’t come back and fuck that all up. I made my bed the day I signed on with the CIA, and I’ve spent every day, every goddamn minute of the past seven to eight years regretting it—not because of what I went through, but because of what I put you and Blair through. If you honestly believe I’m behind this whole fucking mess, then . . . then you’re not the brother I used to know, and you certainly never knew me.”
Without another word, he spun around and strode to the door, leaving them all behind. No one spoke. The only sound was the shuffling of feet. Drake was stunned by his sibling’s admissions. Had he really just accused Grant of doing the unthinkable?
After a few moments, Shane moved into Drake’s line of vision as he stared at the door Grant had disappeared through. Sympathy and understanding filled Shane’s eyes. “He didn’t deserve that, man. I get where you’re coming from—I really do. But no matter what, I believe he had you and Blair and your family’s best interest in mind when he made the decision not to let you know he was alive. He’s not behind all this.”
Drake glanced around at the others, several of
whom avoided his gaze, before he found Shane’s face again. Guilt riddled him, and he silently called himself a fucking fool. “I know; you’re right. I’m sorry, everyone. I just . . .”
He couldn’t find the words to explain his irrational accusation. He knew Grant better than anyone—even after all those years of separation. But instead of trusting his brother, Drake had let his fear and jealousy take over. He’d fucked up big time.
“We’re not the ones you should be apologizing to,” Price said, solemnly.
He licked his lips, then nodded. “You’re right.”
When Shane stepped out of his way, Drake headed for the door, hoping he could repair the damage he’d just done.
Leaning against a fence post, Grant watched a rabbit nibble on the green leaves of a buried bunch of carrots in Blair’s garden. The animal knew he was there, but after a few anxious movements, it seemed to realize the human wasn’t going to get any closer and went back to its meal. Grant could still recall his mother tending to her own vegetables, which had been planted in the same fenced in area—although the fence had been updated in the past year or so. When he’d been old enough, Susan Hadley had taught Grant how to prep the soil, seed and label the rows, and tend to the growing crops. The times he’d spent with his mother in the garden were some of his fondest memories of her.
Don't Shoot the Messenger: Hazard Falls Book 2 Page 9
