by Liz Crowe
How in the fuck had he not known? This was his only son and he’d failed him. Let him eat something that almost killed him.
“Hey.” Cole’s low voice made him shiver.
“How did you get in here?”
“Told them that dog therapy was the best thing for situations like this.”
Ryan glanced down and saw the yellow lab with the pink bow on her service harness. It all crashed in him then. He stood, stumbled away from the bed. He’d lost his son. He’d been given one simple thing to nurture and he had fucking blown it. Cole stepped forward and let the dog sniff around the bed. Ryan put his hands on his head, willed his heart to stop pounding and watched while the dog made concerned noises down in her throat.
Cole whispered something Ryan couldn’t hear. His brain was starting to shut down. Jamie would never open his eyes again, he just knew it. He’d never hear his delighted giggle or hear the ‘yay, Daddy’ words from his lips. He slid down the wall, his head on his arms. He felt tears form but could not let them fall.
A sudden noise made him look up. He gaped at the sight of the huge yellow dog, now up on the bed, whining and nosing at Jamie’s hand. Then amazingly, she stood over him and licked his cheek. “Cole, get her down.” He started to rise.
Cole held out a hand, his face still trained toward the bed. Ryan took a step closer, threaded his fingers through Cole’s and watched Jamie’s eyes flicker and move under his eyelids. When they opened, their deep green was the most beautiful thing Ryan had ever seen. The crazy nights of colic, the anger at the kid’s druggie mom, his early resentment at the whole mess dispelled in his brain. All he saw, all he heard, all he felt was the pure unconditional love that the little boy threw his way every single day. “Jamie,” he whispered, still holding on to Cole’s hand.
The dog looked up, wagging her tail like mad, still perched on the bed. She licked the boy’s face again, softly, slowly until he looked right at her and smiled. “Yay, Daddy! You got me a dog!” The boy sat and threw his arms around the animal’s neck. She sat, panting and grinning at the men.
“Yeah, buddy, we got you a dog.” Cole sat, put his arm around him while Jamie kept a death grip on the lab.
“What in the name of heaven is going on in here?” The nurse burst in, trailing a couple of doctors. “Shoo, shoo, get down.” She glared at the men. Cole started to let go of Ryan’s hand, but he held tight, watching the doctors check out his son. The dog resumed her spot on the floor next to Cole.
“Good girl,” Cole muttered.
“Amazing girl,” Ryan said, looking up and catching Lynette’s eye. “I love you,” he said, looking at Lynette and speaking to Cole. And he knew he’d never spoken truer words in his life.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Ow!” Lynette lurched up from the couch, hand to her back. Daisy ran over and tried to put her slobbery dog mouth around Lynette’s palm. “No, no, I’m fine, sweetie. Just getting too awkward for my own good.” The dog whined and licked her knee then went back over to Cole who sat nearby, plugged into his headphones, working.
In the last few weeks, Ryan and Quinn’s mother, Moira, had jumped in with both feet and had convinced Lynette to have her mother evaluated by a doctor. They’d discovered that she was suffering from early onset dementia, which would be tough to handle, but at least she’d agreed to hire a live-in helper—paid for by Quinn and Audrey. “Go,” she’d whispered to Lynette. “Be with your men. And don’t you ever tell me two isn’t better than one.” Lynette had blushed to the roots of her hair before holding her tiny, bird-like mother close.
Ryan came in, holding a tray of cheese, bread and a six-pack of beer. She narrowed her eyes. “No fair. I can’t drink.”
“You’ll drink this. It won’t hurt the kid much, I promise.” He showed her the carrier. It was emblazoned with the Ypsi Brewing logo and woman’s head with curly red hair who wore a set of dog tags around her neck. “Sweet Bitter Honey has just won a gold medal at the National Beer Fest, I’m told by my assistant brewer. Congrats.” He handed them each a glass, and they lifted them together.
“Holy shit, dude, you can really do this, can’t you?” Lynette smacked her lips, staring into the rich, amber-colored liquid. She frowned, stuck her finger in it to grab something that seemed to be clanking around the bottom of the glass, then sucked in a breath. “What the hell?”
She grabbed Cole’s from him, under his loud protests, and made him put his finger in it, guiding him to a small object at the bottom. She sat with Cole who had an adorable, puzzled look on his face, staring at Ryan and palming a small platinum ring. Ryan plucked the glass from her, still half-full.
“What is this, Ryan?” Her voice was soft. Cole put his hand on her leg.
Ryan leaned over, took the ring from her and slipped it onto her left ring finger, then did the same with Cole’s, who was still speechless. “This is just us, making a commitment, in front of each other for now.”
“But…” Cole spluttered. “We are, we can’t, Ann Arbor is liberal and all, but even this might be a stretch for the kids’ school forms.”
“I want this, I want you and I don’t want there to be any ifs, ands or buts.” Ryan gripped their hands and put them to his heart. Lynette bit her lip and leaned in to touch her forehead to his, while putting her other arm around Cole’s neck, drawing him into their circle. “You and Cole should get married, legally, so the baby has…you know…”
“Fuck that,” Cole said, standing and pulling them with him. “Lynette knows I’ll take care of my child, financially and otherwise. We don’t need a legal document for that.”
“We have to be realistic, Cole.” Lynette knew Ryan was right. “Let’s do that, take the legal step so there aren’t any questions, ever.” She pulled Ryan close. “I want an attorney to spell it out clearly—Cole and I are the baby’s biological parents, but you’re a legal guardian. We can do this. I’ve been checking. And we can be together, all of us.” Her new resolve about this was steadfast. She didn’t care who knew or what they thought, not anymore. Not at the risk of sacrificing her ultimate happiness.
“You’re okay with that?” Cole pulled Ryan close, and the two men stood, making Lynette’s breath catch in her throat at the sight of them.
Ryan nodded. “It’s my idea, so, yeah. But after the baby is born, I want to have a commitment ceremony, for all three of us.” He grabbed their glasses and handed them back out. They clinked them softly, then sipped. Ryan took hers away after she’d just had a taste of the amazing, rich, sweet red brew.
“Enough for you, little mama,” he said softly.
“Ugh, this sucks.” She flopped back on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table, staring at the ring on her finger that matched the ones both of her men wore. Ryan and Cole drained their glasses. Then Ryan winked and pulled her to her feet, folding her into his arms. He nuzzled her neck and cupped one of her newly lush breasts. “How about you show off some of that epic sex drive tonight?”
She sighed and leaned back, letting her overheated libido take over. “Baby, I don’t know if even the two of you are enough for me lately.” She groaned when Ryan brushed his hand along the curve of her stomach, reaching down to press his finger against her sex.
Cole came up behind her, turned her chin around and captured her lips. “We’ll take that challenge.”
She let herself fall into their arms, completely confident they would catch her. They each took a hand and lead her back to the bedroom that Cole had outfitted with a California King bed, a cushy chaise lounge and a spa-worthy bathroom including a tub that would easily hold three people. Ryan eased her down, propping a huge pillow under her head, kissing her lips then lower, sucking her newly sensitized nipples. Cole took up the kiss, and she sighed, stretching and letting relaxation and happiness course through her. The men’s hands met over the mound of her stomach, fingers entwined. She put her palm on theirs, still kissing Cole, her back arching up when Ryan increased his attention to her breasts.
“How do you want it tonight, Lynette?” Cole whispered, running his hands down her face, in her hair. “Your wish is our command.”
She opened her eyes and cupped Cole’s face with one hand, pulling Ryan back up with the other. “I want you.” She kissed Cole’s lips. “Inside me.” She turned her head to give Ryan a kiss.” And I want you inside him.”
Both men raised their eyebrows. She laughed, then gasped, putting her hand to her stomach. Cole sat up, alarm on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Ryan just smiled and slid down to his elbow. “Feel it?” he asked, passing his hand over her belly. She nodded, pulling Cole close and placing his hand on her stomach, near Ryan’s. The baby did it again. A little flutter, then still.
“Holy shit,” Cole whispered, his face a mask of amazement. “Why did it stop? Is he okay?”
Lynette laughed at the innocent worry on his face. She kissed him. “First off, you don’t know if it’s ‘he’. Secondly, the interior beating I will take has just begun. You’ll get plenty of opportunity to feel it. I’ve been feeling it for a week or two already. And now…can we please resume our prior activity?”
Ryan kissed her. “Okay. I’m gonna orchestrate this one. You, up,” he said to Cole who stood and tugged his jeans off, making her lick her lips in anticipation.
“Wait,” she said, putting a hand on Ryan’s arm. “Show me…”
Ryan gave her a wicked grin, then turned, gripped Cole’s thick cock and licked and sucked the man to a near orgasm. Her body twitched and pulsed in response to the amazing show in front of her. She moaned when Cole fisted Ryan’s hair and pumped his hips. “Stop,” she demanded. Ryan lifted his mouth off Cole’s dick.
The other man panted, put his hands on his hips. “Count backwards from fifty,” Ryan muttered, making her smile. “Roll over, Red, up on your hands and knees.” He patted the bed. She grinned and obeyed him. She wasn’t heavy enough in the front for it to be uncomfortable in this position. If anything, it relieved some of the pressure on her spine. She wiggled her hips.
“C’mon, boys. Show me what ya got.”
Cole sighed when Ryan placed his hands on Lynette’s hips, showing him how she was positioned. He’d nearly blown down Ryan’s throat and was still hanging on by a thin thread, but he leaned over her, cradled her stomach, his baby, their baby, in his hands. Then reached higher, cupping her full breasts, sucking in deep breaths of her incredible, intensified scent. “You sure?” he sighed into her ear, already positioning himself, needing to be inside her so badly it took all he had to hold back. But he did.
“Yes, Cole. I’m sure.” Her voice poured over his psyche like her namesake beer, calming and enervating him at the same time. “Please, now.” She arched her back and he slid into her, loving the new sensations, the heat and pull of her changing body. “Oh, baby,” she sighed when he stroked deep.
Cole nodded, still thrusting in and out of Lynette’s depths. “Ah, shit,” he cried out when Ryan’s cock breached him.
They synchronized their rhythm, each stroke from Ryan sending him deeper inside Lynette. He had never in his life felt so complete. His eyes hurt, but the rest of him roared with need. Ryan’s cock reached his gland, then retreated, making him grunt and press harder into Lynette.
“Coming,” she cried out, but he smelled her a half second before she declared it, her rich odor swirling around his head. She groaned when her pussy clutched him, drew him deep.
Cole waited, wanting to make it last, letting his woman and his man have their release before he let his own cloud his brain, sending flashes of phantom light behind his eyes. “Oh my God,” he groaned, draping his torso over Lynette’s back.
Ryan pulled out, and he withdrew from Lynette’s body, smiling when he sensed her collapsing over on her side. He dropped down and held her, loving the lush smell and fullness of her. “I love you,” he whispered, shivering with post-orgasmic pleasure. “Sleepy now,” he muttered into her neck. And he fell between them, Lynette and Ryan, and slept, dreamless, for hours.
Epilogue
Five months later they stood together, hands clasped in front of nearly two hundred people, the combined forces of both Ypsi Brewing and Traynor Distribution Company plus several of Cole’s Marine friends and plenty more beer royalty. Daisy sat, panting at Cole’s side. Ryan looked at them both, the crazed events of the past year rolling around in his head, passing behind his eyes in a montage of lust, love, drama and most recently messy, loud and terrifying childbirth.
He smiled at Lynette, put his hands to both of their faces. Daisy pushed her nose into his leg. The baby made a funny mewling sound. Jamie rushed over to her seat, put his hand on her face. “Daddy, I think Danielle needs something.”
“It’s okay, Jamie,” Lynette said, her natural unflappable nature having taken to motherhood like a duck to water. “She’s fine. Come on up here and stand by your dad, okay? Grandma will hold Danielle.”
Moira smiled and pulled the pink-swaddled newborn from her seat and handed her to Lynette’s mom, who had tears streaming down her face.
The boy nodded, giving the baby one last concerned look, then jumped up to stand between Cole and Ryan. Cole put a hand on his head. The boy gripped both men around the thighs, his eager gaze directed at Lynette.
Ryan had never felt better or more nervous. He smiled at the justice of the peace who’d agreed to preside at their commitment ceremony. He watched while Cole took Dan’s dog tags, kissed them both then knelt down to fasten them to Daisy’s collar. The dog shook, sending the tags tinkling in a somehow appropriate way. A slight, but attractive older woman stood by Cole, her huge dark eyes full of tears. Cole put an arm around her.
“Thank you,” Janice Anderson said. “I wish all of you the very best.” She kissed each of their cheeks then took her seat.
Cole took a deep breath. Ryan put his arms around them both while they repeated traditional words, exchanged kisses then turned to face friends and family, his heart bursting with happiness. He stood between them, held them close and whispered, “I love you. Thank you.”
They each kissed his cheek. Jamie jumped up into his arms. “Yay, Daddy! Family!”
The crowd laughed.
Ryan smiled. “Okay, people,” he said, holding his son. “Let’s party.”
Lynette sat, exhausted in mind and body, holding her daughter’s sleeping form to her breast. Daisy led Cole over and he dropped into a chair. “I love that dog,” she said, plopping Danielle into her father’s arms. Cole smiled, and her heart swelled with happiness. The man kissed his daughter, cradled the infant to his chest and pulled the blanket away from her face se he could run his fingers down her face. The girl made a satisfied sound and settled herself, her lips pursing as she fell into sleep in her favorite spot nestled into her father’s neck.
Jamie clamored into Lynette’s lap. “What are you doing up this late, mister?” She kissed his hair. She felt Ryan’s hands on her shoulders. He crouched down on her other side.
“Over here, buddy,” he said, pulling Jamie off her lap. “Lynette’s too tired.”
“But…” He held out his hands, flexing his fingers.
She laughed. “Selfish, like his dad,” she said. She sat between her men and watched the celebrations continue. The next thing she knew Ryan was picking her up, carrying her somewhere. She muttered into his neck but let the blessed sleep consume her.
“Relax,” Cole murmured in her ear.
“Sleep,” Ryan said. The two voices combined like a lullaby as they laid her down someplace soft and covered her with something warm.
The warm wet dog nose shoved into her neck, then retreated, satisfied that she was settled. “Daddy!” she heard Jamie just before she dropped off, napping at her own wedding but no longer really caring. “Mommy’s sleepy. Where’s my sister?”
She smiled and held out a hand. Cole took it and pressed it to his lips, then rose and kissed Ryan before they retreated, leaving her to a few moments of well-
earned rest.
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Brewing Passions: Tapped
Liz Crowe
Excerpt
The man must be out of his ever-loving mind.
Evelyn tried hard not to yell, or otherwise overreact, ever aware of her reputation as one of the sole females in this testosterone-soaked world of beer sales. But she simply could not stand for this sort of manipulation.
She rose to her feet. “I won’t do it.”
From his position behind the desk, her boss, Grant Taylor, president of Tri-City Distribution, tipped back in his chair and appraised her from head to toe. “He asked for you specifically. And I am certain I don’t have to remind a professional such as yourself that Fitzgerald is our best craft beer brand—one of our only craft beer brands and the one I hope to use to build a better beer portfolio.” He feigned a pitiful look.
“You look like a constipated crocodile when you do that.” Even as she accepted that her day had just grown that much worse, if it were cosmically possible, she slumped back into the chair on the other side of his desk.
“Evelyn, honey, it’s not that bad. He’s a good guy, really.”
The foul liquid that passed for coffee at the Tri-City offices polluted her throat, giving her a few seconds to think. After only two years in the beer and wine sales business, she’d found her niche, and she even had an incentive trip to Barbados from the Corona guys nearly within her grasp. A day spent—more like wasted—trying to shove hipster beer down the throats of savvy buyers at her best stores would not get her any closer to that goal. Evelyn stared out of the window at the annoyingly perfect blue sky.
“Grant, you know I need a heads-up longer than an hour. Seriously, I have to shuffle the whole sales day. Jesus. I don’t even know where—”
Grant held up a hand. “Spare me, please. I know you’ve already committed where Fitzgerald products are placed to that gorgeous, top-selling brain of yours. You sold more of their amber, IPA and Winter Spice bullshit than anybody. Don’t kid a kidder.” He grinned at her.
