by C. M. Albert
“I have to admit, you were right,” I said, sighing. “When Brighton moved in, it was kind of like a catalyst. I saw it open something new inside you, too. You were happier, even when I couldn’t be. You developed an amazing bond with him—a guy friendship I haven’t seen you nurture in years. It made me realize you’ve been hurting too. And I didn’t allow myself to see that because I was too lost in my own unbearable pain. If I saw it, I would’ve had to set mine aside to be there for you. And I’m ashamed to say I haven’t been ready to do that yet, before now. But seeing you open back up and live again—that inspired me, Ryan. And meeting Brighton—”
I paused. I didn’t know how to say what needed to be spoken. I just knew the man had changed my life in ways I probably couldn’t even tell yet.
“It’s okay, Liv. I like to call it the Brighton Effect. There’s just something about the guy, isn’t there?”
I chuckled. “I like that. Does he know about your coined phrase?”
“Nah. I don’t want our bromance to go to his head,” Ryan said, leaning against the doorframe and grinning.
He looked like he had eight years ago when I first met him—full of swagger and confidence. Only, now, he had a new light in his eyes. It was sexier than anything we’d done with Brighton the other night. And yet . . . I couldn’t get our neighbor out of my head or heart either. And I couldn’t hide that from Ryan.
I wouldn’t.
“Meeting Brighton changed me, Ry. But maybe not in the way you’re thinking. His project gave me hope again. Sure, there are days when I can’t face going over there. When I start to, and something hits me like a ton of bricks and reminds me of Laelynn until I break under the weight of it. But he has so much vitality and strength in him—the way he’s tackling this labor of love for his family. He pours so much passion and work ethic into everything he does. Just being on a worksite around that again—smelling the fresh sawdust, seeing the walls come down to the studs, picking out paint colors and fixtures—it gave me a purpose again, outside of myself.”
“Are you saying your therapist might’ve been right?” he teased.
I bit my lip. Dr. Paul had been right on several things so far. He was a decent man; I’d just never given him a real chance to help.
“I thought he wasn’t the right person for me, Ryan. You know I’ve had a hard time opening up to therapists in the past. But I found out about a Moms in Mourning support group from a past client of mine that I might try out. It’s at the Methodist church and is a bereavement group especially for mothers. I think they may know more intimately what I’ve been going through—and hopefully,” I said, taking a deep breath, “help me move on. Not get over it—to live a new life with the experience, but without it paralyzing me every day.”
“Aw, Livy, I believe in you. I always have,” he said, crossing the room. He pressed his forehead to mine. “I believe in us, babe.”
“Me, too,” I whispered.
It was the truth. But behind that truth lived my biggest fear. Something I couldn’t quite reconcile yet. Because after Ryan left, walking across the yard to Brighton’s house to help him with some custom cabinet installation, I needed to go back inside to the guestroom to take the edge off. I opened my sketchbook, looking at the concentration lines I’d captured on Brighton’s face. The hard planes of his stomach as it veed to the top of his shorts. Only now, I knew what was under the course khaki fabric. I was intimate with every mole, every scar, every muscled ridge of his body.
I lay down to take a nap, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to drift off until I released my constantly bottled-up frustration. Ryan scratched an itch that was roaring back to life stronger than it ever had been between us. But there was one spot he couldn’t quite reach. And that spot was reserved solely for Brighton—something only he could satisfy. I reached my hand under the covers and began to rub myself. It wasn’t cheating; I wasn’t doing anything wrong. But after my body shook, and my legs trembled at the memory of Brighton’s mouth on me, I drifted off into a fitful, restless sleep.
I woke only when screams ripped through my dreams, waking me—a night terror so traumatic I was shaking and clutching a pillow to my chest as I tried to figure out what was real. I nearly jumped when I noticed Ryan in the doorway, making his way over to me in record time.
“I’m right here, Livy,” Ryan said, the worry in his voice piercing my fog. “Are you okay?” He knew not to reach out for me unless I asked for it. My night terrors elicited some strange feelings from me in the past—and not ones I always wanted comforting for.
I noticed Brighton standing behind Ryan for the first time.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, looking back and forth between them. Tears trailed down my cheeks as I realized how scared they must’ve been to hear me scream. “Did you hear me all the way from next door?”
“No, we were on our way home when we heard you scream. Scared the daylights out of us,” Ryan said. He still hadn’t touched me yet, but I could tell he wanted nothing more than to comfort me if I’d let him.
“What do you need?” he asked, confirming my suspicions.
“Can you just hold me?” I hiccupped through my tears. “Both of you?”
Ryan nodded, sliding into bed on one side of me as Brighton slid in from the other side. I could barely talk I was crying so hard, nearly catatonic from the nightmare that had wormed its way into my subconscious, breaking my heart. It was only a dream, I told myself repeatedly.
Ryan soothed me, walking me through a grounding exercise a spiritual healer had taught me—making sure I verbally identified something I could see, hear, smell, touch, and finally taste. As I talked quietly with Ryan, Brighton rubbed my back, easing the tension from my body with his gentle compassion.
No words were needed. They’d been there for me when I needed them. Even though I was better now—my heart rate calming—I would never get the image out of my head of me burying Ryan in the same grave as our daughter.
I didn’t want to dissect what that could possibly mean. I didn’t want to think about it ever again. So, when I reached out for my husband, while pulling Brighton’s mouth down to mine on instinct, they met me where I needed them—both helping me surrender, forget, and come back to my body without hesitation, without question. And I came back in the most cathartic way possible—while being loved on by the two amazing men in my life.
My husband, and my Brighton.
Chapter 26
Ryan
“I’M SORRY,” LIV said again as she stretched out across the guestroom bed like a satiated cat. She didn’t look too sorry, though. She looked more relaxed and happier than I’d seen her in days. Since—well, since the last time the three of us had been together. We’d only talked about doing it that one time, but when Brighton and I both found Olivia curled up in a ball, screaming so hard she was crying—there wasn’t anything we wouldn’t have done to help her.
That’s when I realized it was already about more than just sex for Kerrington. He cared about Liv, too. No words had been needed, even though it probably cost him. Without question, he gave again. Gave us a part of his heart through his body as he helped me love and comfort Olivia down from her night terror. She still wouldn’t tell me what she’d dreamed, but whatever it was, we’d helped her forget about it, at least for a little while. Kerrington headed to his room to shower and change, but Liv and I still lay in bed, her heart seeming better now that she’d had a chance to physically work off some of the fear.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad we were on our way over and heard you.”
“What time is it?” she asked, noticing it was getting dark outside.
“Dinner time. You up for going to Rudi’s with us? We ditched work so we could grab some fish sandwiches and salt potatoes.”
“I’d love to come. Can I have five to shower?”
“Of course. You up for driving in case I have a beer or two?”
She nodded. “I’m fine now, Ryan. Really. I just napp
ed longer than I meant to, I guess.”
“No, we just loved on you for a long time,” I growled, leaning in to capture my wife’s lips in a deep and sensual kiss. “Do you have any idea how sexy it is to see Kerrington slide inside you?”
“Ryan!” she said, her face flushing bright red.
“What? I can’t help it. It does. Your face goes all soft and serene, like when you sleep. When he’s moving inside you, it’s like you’re not here on earth anymore. It’s the most peaceful I’ve seen you in far too long. Uninhibited,” I said, choosing the better word. “It’s sexy as hell.”
“It turns you on to see me with him?” she asked, genuinely surprised. “I wasn’t sure it would, or if you’d be jealous when all was said and done.”
I cupped her face. “Don’t get me wrong. I always want to be the first and last person to make you wear that look. But in the middle, for now, I can’t explain it. Nothing turns me on more than watching the two of you surrender together.”
She nodded, a smile spreading over her face. A real smile this time. One that lit up her whole face and made me want to write sonnets about it. As I watched her head for the bathroom to shower, my mind couldn’t help but circle back around to Brighton. He was a nice distraction—a necessary one. Whatever it took to bring more of this Liv back to me. We’d loved her nightmares away until there was nothing left but three connected bodies—made for loving and pleasing this unbelievable woman. She was worth it. Every damn heartache we’d probably feel when Kerrington went back to his real life.
I’d feel the loss of him, too. I knew I would. But Liv and I would love each other back to whole again this time. Because this time, Livy’s heart finally felt stronger. And that was something I could never repay Kerrington for.
I owed the man my life for bringing her back to me.
Chapter 27
Brighton
OLIVIA DROVE TO Rudi’s, and I sat in the back of her Wrangler. I couldn’t help but notice a new, easy banter between her and Ryan. It made me smile—and I felt like I was seeing the real them for the first time. Ryan was much more relaxed and open, the surly frown line between his brows gone as he laughed at something Olivia said.
His hand rested on her bare thigh—her shorts giving him plenty of skin to find. I could see his fingers run gently under the hemline. It wasn’t sexual, just a casual comfort he had—being able to touch Olivia whenever he wanted.
What I wouldn’t give to have that carefree access to her—not having to wait for all of us to be together to be able to touch her. To have her heart as easily as Ryan did. But she wasn’t mine, and the more I gave myself to them, the harder I was falling. I promised myself before this ever started that if feelings got involved, I’d let Ryan know and take a step back.
But I was a goddamn liar.
Feelings were already involved before I ever laid a hand on her.
Now, I was too far gone—drowning in a well of my emotions for Olivia. Part of me hated myself because Ryan was not only a good guy, but a good friend. He was mine before Olivia ever was. But the other part of me wanted nothing more than to share her again. To get my hands on her while Ryan pleasured her, too, both of us learning how to make her tumble over as she reached yet another mind-blowing orgasm. There was nothing like watching Olivia Wells reach her pinnacle, crashing into oblivion and knowing it was from both of us.
Stitch grunted next to me in his sleep, and I couldn’t help but smile. The whole damn family had won over my heart. When we got to Rudi’s and ordered, Ryan sent Liv and me outside to grab a table with the puppy while he waited for our orders at the counter.
While we waited, Liv and I chatted about what was left on the punch list at my uncle’s house. What she would do when Ryan went back to work in the fall. When she was starting her new bereavement group. The kind of everyday things you chatted about with a good friend. It made me feel even closer to her.
From the outside, we probably looked like a couple, lost in an intimate conversation, our heads nearly pressed together. Which is why she startled when a woman walked up to our table and interrupted us to say hello. Even to me, Olivia looked guilty as hell, even though we’d done nothing wrong.
“Olivia?” the woman said, looking back and forth between us. I couldn’t help but notice how she glanced at Olivia’s ring finger. “Where’s Ryan?”
“Oh hey, Kimber,” she said, obviously displeased over our unwanted guest. “Ryan’s here somewhere—grabbing our dinner. This is Brighton Kerrington. Brighton, this is Kimber Shanahan, professor of communications at the university where Ryan works.”
Kimber’s eyes flared as they traveled down my chest. I’d worn a purposefully tight shirt tonight, anything to make Olivia think about me in that way.
“And what do you do, Mr. Kerrington?” she asked coyly, even though she had about twenty-five years on me and was wearing a rock the size of Massachusetts.
Something made me want to put her in her place for the disdainful way she’d looked at Olivia when asking about Ryan. “I’m a general contractor,” I said casually. “Brighton Design and Build. Ever heard of Erickson’s?”
“Of course,” she said, sniffing down at me as if that was the stupidest question ever asked.
“Bright and Classic is my line.”
“Oh,” she said, interest sparkling in her dark brown eyes now. “And how do you know the Wells? Are you a friend of Ryan’s?”
“Kimber,” Ryan said, coming up behind the snooty, immaculately dressed woman, “are you hassling our friend?”
“Ryan! I was beginning to wonder if you really were here tonight.”
The pointed statement didn’t escape me, and it didn’t escape Ryan either. “Here I am. Have you met our new puppy too?” he asked, patting my head.
“Screw you,” I said, laughing. This made Kimber gasp, setting Ryan into a fit of laughter.
“Calm down, Kimber. I was just kidding. This,” he said, pointing to the puppy, “is Stitch. Olivia and I got him a little over a month ago. And this,” he said, waving in my direction, “is a good friend of ours. Olivia got a huge contract with Kerrington’s company this summer. I’m really proud of her,” he said, beaming at his wife.
“Oh,” she said, looking upset that there wasn’t more gossip to be found. “That’s wonderful news, Olivia. Why didn’t you just say so?”
Olivia took a deep breath but kept her composure. “I don’t like to sound boastful, Kimber,” she said as Ryan set our cardboard food tray onto the picnic table we’d selected.
He sat across the bench from us, and I swiveled my legs around, ready to forget Kimber and dive into the enormous plate of fried and salty food.
“Are you coming back to work any time soon?” she asked Ryan before leaving. “Has your little”—she scrunched her nose—“family situation been resolved?”
If she’d been a dude, I probably would’ve stood and punched her myself. My body must’ve tensed because Liv reached for my hand under the table, lacing her fingers through mine.
Ryan smiled up at his coworker, his eyes crinkling. “Never better. How is your husband, by the way? Does he have a new contract at the Marriot?”
Her face paled, and I could tell Ryan knew something Liv and I didn’t.
“He’s fine, thank you,” she said stiffly. “Well, you all have a pleasant evening.”
When she walked away, I burst out laughing. “Oh man, if I had to work with someone like that, I’d have taken time off too.”
Ryan and Olivia chuckled, then immediately dove into their food, quickly forgetting the Wicked Witch of Western New York. Olivia groaned when she popped a salted baby potato into her mouth. Ryan and I both groaned for other reasons, then looked at each other across the table and laughed when our eyes met.
Ryan lifted his Pabst and did a salute. “Here’s to three more weeks before I have to go back to work and see that woman every damn day!”
“Cheers!” I said, lifting my beer in salute, laughing. “Man, I’d be re
tiring early if I were you.”
“Not all of us are wealthy enough to do that,” he said, laughing.
“Do you really own all that?” Liv asked.
I nodded. “Brighton Estates is mine too. It’s a gated community on the lake in Watertown. I just didn’t want to rub too much in her face all at once.”
“Impressive,” she said. Olivia picked over the rest of her food, slowing down. “Guess you aren’t exactly just ‘the handyman’ then.”
“I never pretended to be anything other than who I was, Liv,” I said.
I cringed when I realized what I’d done. I still couldn’t get out of the habit of calling her by Ryan’s pet name. “Sorry, man,” I said, glancing over at him.
He surprised me when he shrugged, taking a long sip of beer. “I think you’ve earned the right by now. If Liv doesn’t care, I don’t either.”
I swallowed, looking over at Olivia. This somehow felt like a rite of passage, and I was surprised Ryan was being so affable about the whole thing.
“I like it,” she said quietly, running her hand over my thigh beneath the table.
I stood up quickly, then headed over to the trashcans so I could toss the rest of my food away. “I’m done,” I said, looking down at Liv with a hunger in my eyes I couldn’t hold back. “Ryan—”
It was a plea, a Hail Mary to have some compassion so we could all go home and be together. A prayer that maybe he’d be willing to share his wife with me one last time. I knew this couldn’t last forever, but I needed every moment he would allow me to have with her.
“Let’s go,” he growled, looking across the table at me. “I think our baby girl needs us.”
