“Anybody by?”
“Candy Grant. In that yellow bomb she drives.”
Ash relaxed. Sinclair had called in her friend. It felt a tad uncomfortable to think she was sharing some of his personal stuff with Candy, but he supposed it wasn’t a huge secret. And Sinclair needed a shoulder. They’d hurt her, and she’d need a little time to get over it. Have things go back to the way they were.
“Thanks.” He headed to the house.
“Jesus. Holy fuck.” Craig crashed into the hall, a huge sandwich crushed in one hand, along with a set of car keys, and a sheet of paper waving madly in his other mitt. He shoved the paper at Ashton, eyes wide and his face pale.
Ignoring the drop of his heart into his belly, Ash steeled himself. Taking hold of the note, he scanned the feminine writing.
Dear Ashton and Craig,
First let me tell you how sorry and embarrassed I am to have burdened you with my unreciprocated feelings this morning. I take full responsibility for misinterpreting anything. It will be impossible for me to stay here and complete my practicum, given your future plans—I apologize for eavesdropping, too—so I thought it best to move on.
Thank you for all you have done for me, especially since your parents died. I can never hope to repay you but offer my most sincere wishes and hopes for your future happiness.
Candy is giving me a ride, and I will keep in touch with her. Please do not worry.
All the very best from your foster sister, S
Ash’s fingers folded in on themselves to make a tight fist, the paper crushing with a rustle and crumpling sound. Not bothering to sort out the cacophony of emotions rolling over him—if he could even label any of them—he turned to Craig. “Get in the fucking truck. And find Candy’s number.”
They shouldered through the front door and across the veranda, the old wooden boards shuddering beneath their feet. Craig tossed the remnants of his sandwich out onto the dirt, and the two yard dogs were on it in a heartbeat, their growls mimicking the ones emanating from his own mouth. His brother shook the car keys, a muted jangle, before stuffing them in his pocket.
Neither one of them spoke as they clambered into the truck and Ash turned the motor over with an unnecessary stomp of the accelerator. With a flourish of spraying dirt and gravel, he wheeled onto the road fronting their property and barreled up it toward town.
“I fucking lived for those holidays when she came home from school. Lived for them. I missed the living shit out of that girl. And those phone calls, having to be careful with what I had to say, hating it when she said goodbye. Each and every fucking time. Even got up early to check my goddamn email so I could figure out what to write when I replied so she didn’t think I was stepping outside of my brotherly role. Shit!” It was high time he was honest. It was high time he was honest. He didn’t view Sinclair as his sister in any shape or form, and people who viewed ménage as kinky and wrong could go fuck themselves.
Craig was fussing with his phone, but Ash could feel the waves of emotion coming off him, not to mention the muttering under his breath that spoke to finding a certain little hoyden and teaching her what was what. His brother was obviously way ahead of him. Then a feminine voice filled the cab. Speakerphone.
“Hello! Candy here.”
“It’s Craig Russell. Where is Sinclair?”
After a short pause, Candy replied, “Why, Craig, honey. Did you misplace someone? Someone of importance, perhaps?” The sweet venom in the woman’s voice sent a chill down Ash’s spine. Women were so good at innuendo, although Sinclair didn’t play games.
“Candy, I’m asking this once, and then we’re coming to your shop and making you wish we hadn’t.”
“And you think my daddy and my brothers would appreciate that, Mr. Russell?”
The cab echoed with Craig’s breath as it gusted forth, and he sucked another one in. “Candy, I don’t give a shit if the army appreciates it or not. Sinclair is not running away from us. Where is she?”
Now with a hint of amusement coloring her tone, Candy said, “You figured it out?”
“I did. We did.” Craig’s jaw was set hard, and Ash knew it mirrored his own.
“Almost there,” he murmured.
“Don’t bother, Ashton.” Candy spoke quietly. “You keep straight on and follow that Greyhound. Sinclair will be transferring at the next town if she’s gonna make Canada.”
“Canada!” Ash shouted, despite himself. “What the fuck’s in Canada?”
“Don’t know, other than it’s away from you two. Who broke her heart and then ground her pride into the dust. And with Melinda Roberts of all things.”
Ash didn’t think calling Melinda a thing was a grammatical error on Candy’s part, but he didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he indulged in a quick connect-the-dots moment and recalled the earlier conversation and Sinclair’s penchant for eavesdropping. Their little wench thought he and Craig were going to take up with the bitch again. He groaned.
“Melinda has nothing to do with this—or us,” his brother interjected, clearly having put two and two together as well.
“On your honor?”
“Honor,” they chorused.
“Then good luck. I won’t call her to warn her. And you make it good or I’ll have lost my best friend, snitching on her. You understand me?” Candy’s voice cracked, and despite his fury with her for aiding and abetting, Ash reassured her.
“You don’t have to worry, Candy. Swear.” Whoever ended up with that little blonde spitfire was going to be led a merry dance, and Ash hoped he could help out with some of the steps.
She clicked off on what sounded suspiciously like a sob, and he risked a quick glance at Craig, who shook his head. “Don’t know, Ash. I’ll never understand women. Except in the bedroom. Now there I excel, if I don’t sound immodest.”
Knowing the direction to Sinclair, Ash’s spirits lifted a tad, and he forced a brotherly response. “You learned from the best.”
“Not everything.”
Sobering, Ash said, “It’s gonna take us both to convince Sinclair.”
“You got a plan?”
“We’ll take it home. Work it out there.”
They’d turned their parents’ room into a master suite by knocking out a wall and adding a seating area that they hoped would double for other, more enjoyable things. A nicely done attached bath and dressing area completed the area, one they’d told Sinclair was a guest suite. But in truth it was for them and the woman they’d hoped to find, when she’d been under their noses the whole time. Not that they were completely unaware, merely holding on to what they’d believed wasn’t their future. Craig had been right when he’d said Sinclair was like their girl next door, her hiatus away at school giving them all time to mature and focus.
Except he and his brother hadn’t figured it out in time. He’d known his feelings for her and hidden them. At least from Sinclair. Craig had refused to even talk to him about it anymore, and it was the closest they’d come to separating as brothers. So they’d hunted for other women and passed the time with sex and the hope they’d find their One. Fucking stupid.
“Have to air out the suite. Guess we built it for her.” Craig sounded calm and focused, the way he did when there was clear direction. Ash hated himself for being so thick. For wasting so much time.
“Yup.” What more was there to say?
The miles were eaten up by his big truck, and he watched ahead intently, hoping they’d catch the damn bus and not have to figure out which one Sinclair transferred to. Canada! Who or what was there for their girl? Well, it didn’t matter. He’d chase her to the moon if need be.
****
It must be a little like drowning, Craig thought, and then having somebody pull you up out of the water. He’d taken his first full breath when Candy told them Sinclair had taken the fucking bus. Not the little car Ash had so carefully picked out for her, but a bus. Didn’t she know bad things happened to women traveling alone? Pretty, innocent women travelli
ng alone thinking the men in her life had rejected her. And for a nasty piece of ass like Melinda Roberts.
No longer needing to punch something—or someone—he thought about the day his mom had brought Sinclair home. He’d been twelve, a little uncertain about his place in the world, and the addition of a bratty, small female had shaken the foundation a little more. Ashton was in high school and could avoid her some, but Craig was in the same school, and even being related to her by dint of living in the same house, was a killer. She’d been downright embarrassing. His mom had sorted her out quick enough, but to someone his age, it felt like an eternity. Until Sinclair left behind all those behaviors that had kept her safe and settled into their home. No need for her to act out anymore. And he could take some pride in the fact he’d helped out with that.
Then he’d come to like her. Really like her. She was a great kid, and he couldn’t have asked for a more loyal follower. He always thought she would return to her birth parents, and his parents prepared both him and Ash for that eventuality. Maybe that’s what kept him from seeing her as flesh and blood, and, instead, someone just as important, but different. He wasn’t good at self examination, but he’d told his brother the truth when he’d come to see Sinclair as an object of his affections—carnal and otherwise, although he had fought the good fight. Knowing her as a person was the foundation for his interest, but what he felt for her later was far from brotherly. He’d resented Ash’s mature stipulation to keep their distance, but at twenty-two, and her only sixteen, he knew better anyhow.
All his high minded speaking that morning aside, he was going to see this through, and with a very different outcome than he’d told Sinclair. For certain, people would talk and try to make it difficult for Sinclair if she took up with two men, especially him and his brother. But as that corny song his mom used to sing all the time, love would find a way. Craig figured he loved her enough for all of them.
“You sure?” Ashton broke into his reverie with that unsettling ability he had to read Craig’s thoughts.
“If her leaving us hurts this bad, what will never seeing her again do? I love her, Ash.”
“Wish I’d handled it differently. Because I feel the same way.”
“I pretty much know how I’m gonna handle it now.”
“Craig, she’s—”
“A nearly twenty-two year old woman who spoke her mind and heart to us this morning and is going to get what she has coming to her.” He heard his own words echo in his head and had to laugh.
Ashton joined him, and the tension eased a trifle. “You’ll scare her off,” his brother commented.
“You think our girl hasn’t researched ménage? The way she studies everything? She might have no actual experience with it, but she knows what she’s getting into. And with who. She knows us better than we know ourselves.”
“She packed it in. Ran away.”
“Fuck me, Ash. Listen to yourself. We refused her on the grounds of incest. Might as well have slapped her face. And then she thought we were waiting on Melinda, preferring her to Sinclair.” He shuddered and saw Ash’s mouth purse in distaste out of the corner of his eye.
“It was hard to shift gears after all those years of telling myself that’s what it would be. Perverted.”
“I’m done lying to myself.”
Ash sped up a little. “Me, too.” After a pause, he said, “How’d you get so smart?”
“Necessity.”
Chapter Three
She couldn’t do this. The next bus would take her up through northern Montana and cross the border into Canada. She had her passport and her birth certificate but no idea what she’d tell the custom officials. And the farther she got from home the harder it was to go. It had seemed her only choice when she’d called Candy and poured out her heart. And she could do it. Move to a different country, find work, and carve out a living. Because she couldn’t be any place near where Aston and Craig were. Yet she couldn’t bear to leave them. Oh, she was so conflicted.
Sitting on a bench near the bus lanes with her luggage at her feet, she questioned herself again. Hard work never bothered her, and she had certain skills to offer. Two of the three provinces up there had cattle and horses on ranches similar to the Russells’ place. She didn’t have her field work done, but she’d worked for years on the ranch and that should count for something. Somebody would hire her, even if she had to wait tables first. Or maybe a vet clinic would want a tech. She had more training than a tech.
There were her friends from school, acquaintances mostly, so she wouldn’t really miss them. Candy was a different story but they’d get together and catch up like always, inseparable since meeting up in the cafeteria at school, two new girls in the area. Different as chalk and cheese, as her mom used to say, but best friends for all of that.
A single tear fought its way past her blinking against them, and meandered down the curve of one cheek. She brushed at it and winced at the feeling of grit. The bus hadn’t felt clean, and sitting outside in the concrete jungle wasn’t helping, but it was better than being inside the depot that smelled of people and other stuff she didn’t want to think about. Not to mention the man who was even now lurking after her, ignoring her firm response that he get lost. How was she going to continue without Ash and Craig in her life? Without even a phone call or an email? All that time on the bus planning her future—poorly—and refusing to think about them hadn’t helped. The way that lock of dark blond hair flopped down over Craig’s forehead until he shoved it back into place, his big, scarred hands, marred by all the work he did with the cattle and ranch maintenance.
His tall, strong body was nearly identical to Ashton’s, and they could have passed as twins in many respects. Ash’s hair was brown, and of course his eyes a different shade of blue, but still… She had only to look at him and her bones would melt, and she had to clench her fists so as not to touch him. Their personalities were very opposite. Ash was the strong, silent type, always thinking and planning. Craig tended to be outgoing and wore his emotions more visibly. She shivered a little at the thought of how Craig would react to her leaving. For a moment that morning during her embarrassing tell-all, she’d wondered if he’d been of a different mindset than Ashton. But it didn’t matter. They were a matched set and as such unavailable to the likes of her.
Maybe if she’d acted the seductress during her hormonal teen years, instead of hiding her need. Except that wasn’t her either. They were lucky to be rid of her. She’d probably be lousy in the sack anyhow, despite two experienced teachers. She gritted her teeth against the flush of desire gripping her lower belly and the jealousy coursing through her veins. It was time she got her act together and made a new life for herself, and stopped this insane parade of memories. Who knew what Canada would bring? Maybe there were some fine cowboys up there, too.
Checking her cell, she noted the bus would be arriving in under an hour, and then she’d travel well into the night. It was still summer but the days would fly by quickly, and she’d heard winters up north were worse than here. She tucked her phone back into her purse and settled in to wait and avoid thinking about Ashton and Craig at all costs. The squicky guy was still hovering, and she was glad there were people around, as she resolutely ignored him.
A black truck cruised along behind the line of buses, and she idly wondered if the driver couldn’t read. The area was clearly marked for no traffic other than the buses themselves. As it drew closer, the emblem on the side grabbed her attention, and her heart jumped into her throat.
Oh my God. The Rolling R Ranch. Ash’s truck.
Climbing to her feet on legs that no longer wanted to hold her, she floundered, not knowing what to do next. She was so darn happy to see them materialize after thinking about them, but instinct told her to run. A big hand grasped her bicep in an inflexible hold.
“Going someplace, darlin’?” Craig’s stern visage loomed in her line of vision, eyes nearly black with anger. Oh, shit. He must have gone in through the fro
nt of the depot and come out the back while Ash drove along here. She tamped down the burst of heat that surged clear up from her pussy.
“I’m going to Canada,” she announced, proud of only a tiny wobble in her voice, because her knees were knocking to beat the band.
“Not.” He walked her to where Ash had drawn up into a fortuitously empty lane, blithely ignoring more posted signs.
Ash jumped out and came to meet them, a study in outraged male, and her belly clenched even as her pussy thrummed harder. She wasn’t afraid of them, but she was scared shitless. It didn’t matter if made no sense. She leaned sideways, and Craig handed her off to his brother like a package. He half carried, half dragged her to the truck, yanking open the back door. It struck Sinclair that there were still other passengers standing about, and that they’d drawn the attention of at least one driver and a security guard. The latter was straightening his uniform shirt and strutting their way, and it was now or never. If this didn’t look like a kidnapping in process, then people were freaking blind. She opened her mouth … and closed it when a large hand fit itself over her bottom and squeezed.
“Get in the truck, Sinclair. Now.”
With a combination of a mad scramble and a lift of Ash’s hand—via her bottom—Sinclair found herself sprawled across the wide leather seat. She raised her head to see her luggage sailing into the bed of the truck, and then Craig followed her inside. He shifted her over with a press of his hip and dropped her purse and laptop to the floor.
“Hey, mister.” The security guard was hard on Ash’s heels. “There’s no parking here.”
“Sorry. Our woman should have been waiting out front. We’ll get out of your way right now.” Ash shut the truck door in the guard’s face and threw the vehicle into gear. Any thought of speaking up faded with a glimpse of Ash’s features reflected to her via the rearview mirror.
Crap.
Wait a minute. Their woman? What was that all about? Not their sister, then. She carefully looked at Craig, who still appeared royally pissed. He caught her glance and said, through his teeth, “You might just want to be quiet for a bit until we negotiate the traffic.”
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