by Liz Crowe
“Hold on,” Cole said, sitting down and pulling his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Rules? What rules? Ryan…what the fuck is she talking about?”
Ryan’s chest constricted. He stared from Lynette’s eyes to Cole’s confused face. He had no answer. None at all. He sighed and reached for Lynette.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
“I think you should go,” Cole stated. Ryan stood between them, torn, furious and terrified that he’d ruined everything in a fit of horny selfishness.
“No, listen, guys, I’m sorry. I’m just—”
“I’m pregnant.”
Ryan’s vision narrowed. He locked in on Lynette’s face while a slow-burning indignation lit a fire in his brain.
“Um, what?” Cole said, getting to his feet.
Ryan held out an arm to hold him back. “Really? Lynette, how could that be? I thought we had an understanding about birth control. All three of us.”
Cole shoved his arm down with a strength that only hinted at what he might be capable of and pulled Lynette into his arms. She stood, not returning his embrace.
“You’re a selfish shithead.” She disentangled herself from Cole, glaring at Ryan. “You think you can just fuck us, both of us, one of us, whenever you want. Is that what this is about? We’re a couple of Ryan’s playthings whenever he wants them, just as long as we follow his rules?”
Cole yanked his sunglasses off. “I’m not a plaything, Lynette. He didn’t rape me, for God’s sake. We aren’t cheating on you. But, of course, you guys seem to have some kind of pact you didn’t let me in on so, maybe we were. Fuck.”
He grabbed Brutus and tried to shoulder past them, but Ryan held on to him. “How pregnant are you, Lynette?” He kept his voice light, but he was seeing red around the edges of his vision and knew he had to keep a grip on his temper, lest he make this worse than it already was.
“Enough to know, thanks.” She crossed her arms.
“Good, I’ll drive you to the clinic. Get in the car.”
Cole grabbed his arms and shoved him hard, making the back of his skull connect with a bookshelf. “You do not get to decide that.” His voice was low, a warning Ryan chose to ignore. He pushed the man off him, making the mistake of thinking Cole wouldn’t lash out.
Big mistake.
Pain exploded in his jaw, then his gut when carefully placed punches thrown by a trained killing machine landed precisely where they were aimed. He grabbed Cole’s arm when the man hauled back to do it again. Ryan was no slouch and was bigger.
“You guys are pitiful,” Lynette spat out. “Can’t keep your stupid hands or cocks off each other, fucking or fighting. Jesus.” Ryan held tight to Cole’s arm, sensing the man’s rage just under the surface. Brutus had Cole’s other hand in his huge mouth, trying to tug him out of what must appear to be a dangerous situation for his master. “I don’t need your goddamned ride, Shannon. I can drive myself to get an abortion, thanks. And you.” She glared at Cole, who turned his face to her. “You should ask him about his rules sometime. About how we share but only if we’re all together, in the same space. He used you today, Cole. Sorry to break that to you.”
Ryan let go of Cole’s hand, taking a chance the guy would not try to hit him again. He grabbed Lynette’s arms, but she shook him off.
“Fuck you, Ryan Shannon. Fuck you and your ‘sex only for now’ bullshit. I’m done. I’ll be taking a couple of days off. Got myself a medical emergency.” Ryan winced and felt Cole’s temper about to burst like a thundercloud over all of them. “But this whole experiment.” She made a circle with her finger indicating the three of them. “Is finished.”
Cole gasped and tried to pull her to him. “No, wait, Lynette, don’t.”
Ryan gaped at them both. “You guys have got to be kidding me.” He let the anger fuel him and the words tumbled out, burying him even deeper. “This is not what we are about. We are a threesome for sex. That’s all I want. That’s what I thought you wanted, but obviously, I was wrong. In case you forgot, I have a family already, one I didn’t expect, but it’s all I need.”
He let go of Lynette’s arm and stepped back. They both stared at him, or at least appeared to, making his heart leap into his throat, regret making his temples pound. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean it that way.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He meant it but knew it was too late. He hadn’t meant anything more than the fact that adding another child to the mix would only complicate everyone’s lives.
But, boy, did you just sound like a selfish motherfucker.
He groaned and touched his aching jaw.
Lynette ran out, slamming the door behind her. Cole stalked out of the room, turning before he went into his office. “Get out of my house. Get out of my life. I’ll be at Audrey’s tonight, so I don’t want you to be there. I mean it, Ryan.” He held up a hand. “We’re done.” Then he shut the office door with a firm, quiet click, which in many ways was even more final than the slamming front door.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The hell was back. The headaches, sensory overload, throat-closing dread and the deep darkness of his reality closed in on him. Cole sat at his computer, ignoring the worried noises from his dog and the pinging of incoming emails. His phone rang—Jake’s ring tone. He ignored it. He had done the dumbest possible thing. Been untrue to his nature, fallen for a woman, while being manipulated by a man to suit his own selfish pleasure.
He stood, a ball of nervous energy, needing forward motion. By the time he walked out of the office and into the kitchen, he realized he hadn’t eaten all day and decided to find some food to help some of the churning in his gut.
Brutus was excellent at guiding him around to the various areas of the kitchen so he could function on his own. He could even cook some things alone. Brutus would bark when necessary and the stove had a loud timer he’d retrofitted with a Braille control panel. He put a pot of water on for noodles, grabbed a beer from the fridge and downed it while sitting at the table, brooding.
He wouldn’t let Lynette do this alone. While part of him loved the thought of a baby—his baby—the practical part of him knew that was patently ridiculous. He had no business being a father, or so he kept telling himself. It was her body. She should and would do whatever she wanted about it. But he wished she’d let him help her, somehow.
He got another beer, grateful that Brutus would let him know when the water boiled. The second beer, plus all the emotion of the past hours or two made his eyes droop. The table’s cool surface felt good on his hot face. He drifted off, knowing he’d meet Dan in his dreams. And he did.
The dog’s frantic barking woke him. That and his lungs’ urgent need for air in the smoky kitchen. He must have fallen to the floor, but could feel the heat from a fire that must be slowly engulfing the counter nearest the stove. The harsh smell of burning wood and plastic made him gag. He felt mired in lethargy, as though he was drugged, but kept coughing, unable to move.
The other fire surrounded him again. His about-to-be-ruined eyes burned, pain from his broken leg made him grunt and grab it, only to find it healed. He heard noise, yelling, gunshots. His head pounded as his lungs tried to suck in clean air only to find it full of poisonous smoke.
Something grabbed his hand, something sharp. He rolled onto his back. The world narrowed to a tiny pinprick, and he heard him—Dan—calling for him, crying out his name. He tried to roll back over and get to his hands and knees but couldn’t.
“Lynette!” he yelled, but it came out a weak whisper. “Lynette, don’t…” He wanted to cry, but his ruined eyes wouldn’t allow it. His face was wet from something. He touched it, tasted salt on his fingertips then couldn’t hear or feel anything else.
* * * *
“Hey, hold this one, will ya?” Audrey poked his shoulder and Cole held out his hands for a nephew, loving the baby smell that permeated him. “He’s fed, but won’t go to sleep. Work your uncle magic.”
He nodded and coughed, his lungs sti
ll weak from the kitchen fire that ruined half his house. The little boy snuffled around, making mewling sounds. Cole kissed him. “Settle down, little man. Give your mom a break.”
Tyler had come home finally but was still on a monitor twenty-four-hours a day and Audrey absolutely refused to leave him on his own. Especially after one scare that sent them back to the hospital for an overnight in an oxygen tent, so the household took turns being awake with him.
Cole didn’t mind. He loved it. Frankly, the feel of his nephews in his arms was the single thing that grounded him in a tiny bit of sanity and kept him from doing something permanent about his misery.
He had steadfastly refused to let Ryan or Lynette near him while he’d been in the hospital a few days after the fire. Mortified for being so irresponsible as to almost burn the house down like some kind of invalid, he was grateful that at least all the computers and servers had survived.
The fire department had been able to contain the blaze to the back corner of the house. But, of course, he couldn’t live there anymore. He palmed the baby’s back and shifted down on the couch so the boy was nearly horizontal on his chest. He kept patting, soothing, both Tyler and himself. He stayed awake per Audrey’s orders but let his thoughts drift while the infant rooted around before he fell asleep.
He wondered how Lynette was, if she’d recovered from her procedure, if Ryan had made the Sweet Bitter Honey beer and whether he’d ever retrieve that magical, connected feeling he’d gotten when he was with them both. Something was pulling at him, making him want to be up and out of here, on his own again. While that seemed right, it also terrified him at the same time. Audrey put a hand on his cheek. “Sleep, Cole. I’ll sit here and feed Lucas. The bigger boys are around, so if his alarm goes off, somebody will hear it.”
Cole nodded, groggy from lack of sleep. He still didn’t have a handle on Quinn’s other twins, but they seemed to be getting used to him now that he lived in their house. One of them, Nathan, had started reading to him the day he showed up from the hospital, burns on his hands, his lungs still weak, and alone once again. He was enjoying the Harry Potter books, but actually liked talking with the kid. He was a quiet, smart boy, while his brother Alex was loud, showy and, best Cole could tell, an asshole in training.
He let sleep take him. And entered the dark, quiet place where even Dan had abandoned him.
* * * *
Lynette sat on the hard plastic chair and filled out the medical forms—she had no allergies, no heart murmur, asthma, religious objections to blood transfusions. It was all very innocuous, as if she was there for a checkup. Her hands shook when she lied to the receptionist about having a friend coming later to pick her up. She mentally concocted an excuse for the phantom friend’s eventual nonappearance. How hard could it be?
The waiting room felt like the inside of the cooler at the brewery. She rubbed her arms and turned in the forms, smiling weakly at the perky girl behind the desk, ignoring the rest of the women sitting around the room. She clutched her hands, pretended she was doing the right thing, making her choice as a strong, independent woman. A woman with no husband or even boyfriend to help her out, a job she wanted to keep and zero support otherwise.
“Lynette?” A nurse appeared at the door, her smile so wide Lynette winced. Jesus, these people could at least act sad. This was sad. This was bullshit. She shook her head and followed the woman down a sterile hall. She sat, got her vitals taken, had to endure a painful, boilerplate counseling session. No, I don’t feel okay about this. No, I don’t really want to be here. No, I don’t want to talk about it. Can we please just get the fuck on with it? Words she didn’t say but thought, loudly in her head.
“Okay, Lynette.” The perky nurse was back, grinning at her like they were buddies about to get matching mani-pedis. “Get changed here, then I’ll be putting the IV in to give you something to help you relax. The whole procedure only takes a few minutes. I don’t see your friend yet, though. You should call and check on them before we give you any meds.”
The door shut. Lynette sat. Unshed tears clogged her throat. Of all the tears she’d allowed herself while with her men—tears of joy brought on by tapping deep wells of emotion she’d forgotten she possessed—it seemed they’d dried up since catching Cole and Ryan alone, fucking, when she’d come over to tell them the truth. Memories of Cole, his beautiful green eyes, his words, his body and soul overwhelmed her, making her clench her eyes shut.
And Ryan, his brutally handsome but angry face, harsh words about their sex only arrangement, the first time they’d had sex…made love…when he’d been so gentle and loving. The men, at each other’s throats, the poor dog trying to break it up.
Lynette Williams, you are a fool. Get this done. Get back to your life and leave all that shit behind.
She’d contacted the headhunter again, determined to get the fuck out of Ryan’s orbit for good, hoping she could escape by leaving Ypsi Brewing altogether. She comforted herself with the memory that Ford had called her back for a second interview two weeks ago, so there was still that possibility hovering on the horizon.
She clutched the generic hospital gown and stared at her hands. Then she stood and looked out onto the busy parking lot. The memory of Cole’s voice that time—when she’d conceived this kid on the kitchen table—ghosted through her brain. She knew damn good and well she’d had no diaphragm in and had taken him anyway. She clenched her jaw, gripped the curtains and let a rogue tear drip down her cheek.
She hadn’t spoken to either man since rushing to the hospital the night of the house fire. He wouldn’t talk to her then, anyway. Audrey claimed he was embarrassed, thinking everyone would assume he’d tried to kill himself again. But it had been an accident. She’d kissed his cheek and left the hospital room, unsaid words making her throat ache. Ryan snagged her on the way to the elevator, his eyes wild with worry. ‘He’s fine,’ she’d said, unwilling to engage in conversation beyond the basics.
‘I know,’ Ryan had said, tugging her close. ‘How are you?’
‘None of your business anymore.’ She’d moved out of his reach, leaving a piece of her heart in his hands before walking away.
Now, she put a hand on her still flat stomach and let what was left of her heart lead. She put her clothes back on, opened the door and handed the gown to the nurse who stood, waiting with her IV needles and drugs. “Thanks, anyway,” she said, squaring her shoulders and walking out the door, already talking to the baby inside her. “It’ll be okay, kid. My mom will help, and she’ll only make us a little nuts.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ryan groaned and rolled over, reaching for his man, his woman. Then opened his eyes and picked up the heavy mantle of loneliness he’d put aside when he finally fell asleep the night before. He’d had baby duty the night before, happy to help. But he’d forgotten how much work it was.
Willing to go along with Audrey’s somewhat paranoid insistence that Tyler never be left alone until the doctors let him sleep without full monitoring, he’d walked the floor holding the kid while he cried, then slept. His head ached, his heart pounded. He needed Cole. He wanted Lynette so badly he could feel it like a physical spike of pain in his gut. But the man had stayed sequestered in the guest room, and Ryan hadn’t the energy to try and lure him out.
He had no one to thank for the present state of affairs but himself. He knew that. Plus, he’d nearly lost Cole again. Despite what Audrey had said, he knew that whole fucking fire thing was his fault.
He sat, tried to rally the energy to get on with the day. Lynette had been completely distant, not communicating with him beyond the necessary words of work. He kept wanting to ask her questions, to make sure she was okay with everything. She’d been gone for three days, during which time he assumed she’d taken care of it. And of course, that was his fault, too.
He rose, took a shower, got dressed, drank coffee, played his father role and went to work on autopilot. Lynette was there already, doing her thing and ignoring
the shit out of him. As usual.
Quinn called about halfway through the day. “Cole went home today.”
“Oh?” He tried to remain casual. “The new place?”
They’d decided to buy a new house, a handicapped accessible one, for him, about a mile from Audrey and Quinn’s place. A fresh start, sans memories and bullshit. Ryan thought it was a good idea. And only wished he could help. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?
“Yeah. Audrey’s not happy about it. She’s having some kind of serious let-down moment right now. But on the up-side, Tyler’s off the monitor.”
“Great.” He felt lame but had no words while he watched Lynette through the maze of stainless-steel fermentation vessels. She was leaning back, talking with one of his younger brewers. They guy smiled at her, touched her arm. They both laughed and the look on the guy’s face made the hair on the back of Ryan’s neck stand up.
He gritted his teeth and looked away. He’d slammed that door shut but good with his reaction to her news and his selfish sharing rules bullshit. She wasn’t his to possess or be jealous of or even care about anymore. But he did. So much so that it kept him awake every night.
“You okay?” Quinn’s voice sounded a million miles away.
Ryan sighed. “I’ve made my bed, brother, and now I’m wallowing around in it. Nobody’s fault but mine.”
“Well, that is just about the lamest shit I have ever heard come out of your mouth. And I’ve heard my fair share of it.”
Ryan winced at his brother’s angry tone, mainly because the man was right. He’d never shied away from what he wanted. Why he couldn’t manage to reach out to either of the people he loved right now, to at least make some sort of amends, was beyond him. He felt encased in cotton, numb, marking time and avoiding what mattered. And he couldn’t seem to change that. “Yeah, well…”
“I hear Lynette is leaving us.”
