by Mari Carr
“I’m telling my mom you said that, Third,” Doug teased. “You made the same comment about her meatloaf.”
TJ narrowed his eyes. “Snitches get stitches.”
Suddenly, Rosalia realized who TJ was. Like Jake, Doug had told countless stories about his best friend, Third. She hadn’t made the connection that TJ was Third until that moment.
“Third?” Rosalia had always wondered about the strange name, but never thought to ask where it came from.
“Doug’s nickname for me,” TJ explained.
“Compton Pass’s nickname for him,” Doug added.
“Thanks to you,” TJ muttered as he continued shoveling in the lasagna. His clear enjoyment made her want to hand him her plate as well, just so she could continue to listen to his low groans of bliss.
From his mild response, Rosalia didn’t get the sense TJ minded the odd moniker. “What’s it stand for? Were you third baseman in little league or something?”
TJ put his fork down and wiped his mouth. “Nothing that interesting. I’m at the tail end of an unimpressive legacy. Thornton Joshua Nicholas, the third. Josh Nicholas, my grandfather, skipped over the first name, opting to go by the middle. He passed the whole name along to my dad three seconds after he was born and five seconds before he split for good. Thorn, the second, adopted the part of the name that fits him best. Prickly bastard. Which leaves me, TJ, the third.”
Rosalia tried to match the words to the tone, but she couldn’t make them fit. TJ spouted off his family’s history with the same emotion her grandmother might use when repeating a recipe to a friend over the phone.
“They saved the best for last,” Doug said easily, using the typical kind, supportive words she would have expected from him.
TJ gave his friend a grateful, if unconvinced nod. “Thanks, Doug. So…I hear you’re an Internet star, Rosalia.”
Rosalia grinned, sorry that TJ had found a way to change the subject.
But maybe it was for the best. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to learn more about TJ—God, she was suffering from an almost unnatural fascination with the man—but she could tell it bothered him to talk about himself. His eyes had darkened, cast with shadows, when he talked about his family.
They were going to be together—in close proximity—for the next four months. While that didn’t sound like a lot, she’d learned from previous research trips, time spent around a campfire, outside in the fresh air, created a sort of break from reality, a circle of trust and truth. It was like summer camp.
“Not sure I’d say star. I have a little YouTube channel that—”
“Little?” Doug interjected. “I don’t call a hundred thousand followers a little channel.”
She laughed. Doug was her biggest fan and loudest supporter. When she’d told him about the few weather videos she’d uploaded onto YouTube their first spring together, he’d convinced her to put some more time and effort into them, proclaiming storm chasing one of those things viewers would want to see. She’d renovated her channel, giving it the title Light as Air, and started taking more care to make her videos look professional.
Actually, it was Doug who did the polishing and editing. And while the subject matter sounded fascinating, she wasn’t going for the sensational as much as the educational, and apparently, that was what set her apart from the crowd.
She took the time to explain the science behind the storms they filmed. It caught the attention of teachers across the country, who were now using her videos in their Earth Science classrooms. When she learned about that, she’d started including questions for discussion and educational links at the end, to enhance the videos’ instructional value.
She was actually shocked when her number of followers skyrocketed enough that she started earning money for her efforts. Money she put into adding a second cameraman to the crew. Rex, and now TJ were paid with the YouTube windfall.
“That channel wouldn’t be where it is today without your influence, Doug.”
TJ smiled, and she realized how close these guys really were. A compliment paid to one seemed to genuinely please the other.
Doug tried to dismiss her words, but she wouldn’t let him. “Seriously. Your camerawork and video editing is stellar.” She looked at TJ. “I taped the original shows with my phone.”
TJ feigned a wince, then laughed. “Doug is great behind the camera. Although he’s pretty cool in front of it, too.”
“In front?” she asked.
For the next hour, they polished off the first and second bottles of wine as the guys told her all about CPSN.
If anyone had asked, Rosalia would have said there was very little she didn’t know about Doug. Tonight, she was proven wrong. TJ had a much deeper, longer, richer history with her friend, and it was fun to hear Doug’s stories from someone else’s perspective. Doug was too self-effacing, too unpretentious to ever really talk too seriously about himself.
Hearing his stories told by his best friend from kindergarten shed a spotlight on how little she knew, but how right she’d been all these years to adore the man.
Between the wine and the company of two of the sexiest men she’d ever known, Rosalia was hard-pressed not to strip off some clothes. As it was, she stood at one point and picked up a paper plate to fan herself.
“Hot?” Doug asked, glancing around as if he’d crack a window. Unfortunately, the rain was still coming down hard and the wind had picked up.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just the wine, dear.” She emphasized the last word. “Doug is the perfect work husband. Always taking care of me.”
Doug sighed. “We could take the word ‘work’ out of that sentence if you would just go ahead and admit you’re madly in love with me.”
“Gonna put a ring on it, huh?” she teased, this routine part of what Justin called the Rosie and Doug Show.
“In a New York minute.”
Rosalia started to laugh, but the sound died on her lips. There was something different in Doug’s tone. Or maybe it was the same tone as always, but she was just hearing it for the first time. He sounded…earnest.
She blinked a few times, forgetting the rest of the joke, unable to come back with some witty shoot-down.
Headlights hit the wall and she glanced out the window, feeling relieved to be saved.
And disappointed.
“Justin and Eric are back.”
Doug rose, coming to stand behind her. “Looks like they’re heading straight to their camper.”
She looked at her phone. “No wonder. It’s nearly midnight. What the heck did they get up to?”
“Probably found a bar.”
“Probably,” she agreed. “Maybe we should turn in, too. All of us put in quite a few hours today driving here.”
“Good idea.” TJ stood as well, and Rosalia was tempted to fan herself once more. With both of them next to her in the confined space, her fantasies went wild. “Listen, Rosalia. We’re not taking your bed. Doug can sack out on that booth and I’ll sleep here on the floor.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Absolutely not. No one’s sleeping on the floor.”
TJ frowned, ready to continue the fight, but Doug chuckled.
“That’s her boss voice.”
“What’s that mean?” TJ asked.
“It means you won’t win in a fight with me,” she said, unoffended by Doug’s joke. She was used to the guys giving her shit for her tendency to be a bit of a control freak.
TJ didn’t look like he was willing to give in, but she didn’t give him the chance. “I’ve slept on the bed out here plenty of times before. It’s perfectly comfortable. So go on.”
Doug gave her a quick, friendly hug and kiss on the top of her head that sent her thoughts down a very racy road before he started toward the bedroom. “Next time it rains, I say we shake up the sleeping arrangements. Just to keep things interesting and fun. We can practice that future-wife-and-husband thing.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Next time, I’ll
make you sleep in the tent in that downpour.”
He waved his hand to let her know he’d heard the joke and let it bounce right off him.
“Is that the research-team equivalent of making a man sleep on the couch?” TJ asked with a grin.
She nodded. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“Thank you for dinner, Rosalia.”
“You can call me Rosie. Everyone else does.”
“I know. But I’m not everyone else.”
She sucked in a breath, not sure if any air got to her lungs. She was suddenly light-headed. While Doug made her feel pretty and adored, TJ made her hot and bothered…in a very lonely, never-been-touched-before place.
“If you’re too uncomfortable, just wake us up and we’ll move out here. It’s your RV and your bed, after all. I’ve slept in worse places than the floor of a camper or a tent in the rain, so don’t let that worry you.”
TJ’s words fueled her curiosity about him even more.
Then he followed the direction Doug had gone, disappearing into the bedroom.
If she was a better woman, she would have looked away and not ogled his gorgeous ass in those tight blue jeans the whole time.
“Dammit,” she mumbled. There was too much testosterone in this RV, and she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to combat it.
It had been hard enough to control her overheated fantasies when it was just Doug with the research team. With TJ in the picture…
She was starting to regret offering to share her RV. How the hell was she supposed to sleep with those two just a few feet away?
It was going to be a long night.
No. It was going to be a long fall.
Chapter Three
Doug sat sprawled out, beer in hand, and sighed contently. It was times like these when he considered himself the luckiest bastard on earth. He was camped out by a warm fire on a clear night with his best friends and not a care in the world.
He’d always loved the time he spent with the research team each spring, but this time was different, better. Having TJ along was taking a lot of anxiety away. He’d always worried about his friend, alone in the ramshackle house he shared with his dad. While he knew TJ was capable of taking care of himself, he didn’t like thinking that he always had to be on guard or that he might suffer any loneliness. There was just so long a man could keep that up before he ran out of steam.
TJ’s black eye a couple weeks earlier seemed to indicate that his strength had been waning.
TJ was a different man away from Compton Pass, more relaxed, more like the boy he’d been in high school…so Doug hadn’t bothered to tell him about the phone call from his father earlier today.
Apparently, Thorn had taken a swing at Doug’s uncle Sawyer, the sheriff of Compton Pass, when he’d arrested him for being drunk in public earlier in the week. Thorn had just spent the last few nights in jail. Given the fact no one from home had informed Doug until today—when Thorn was released—it was obvious his family was hoping to give TJ a break from the hell that was his reality for as long as possible as well.
It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell TJ, but then he’d caught a glimpse of his friend laughing and swapping stories with Justin, and Doug had shut his mouth, unwilling to ruin this chance for TJ. He hadn’t mentioned Thorn since their first night here, and Doug would do anything necessary to keep it that way.
Out of sight. Out of mind.
He wasn’t sure what had caused TJ to regress to the quieter, sadder version of himself these last couple of years, but seeing this TJ, the one who smiled and talked, was a welcome relief.
There was country music playing softly as they all sat together, talking about a whole lot of nothing. Justin was munching on his third s’more like a freaking twelve-year-old at summer camp. They teased him about his obsession with making the sweet snack nearly every single night, but that also didn’t stop the rest of them from partaking as well.
“I’m going in for the night,” Eric said. “Thursday-night football. Gonna stream it on my iPad while I lay in bed.”
“Who’s playing?” Justin asked.
“Seahawks and Packers.”
“Oooo. Can I watch too?” Justin was already up and out of his chair, gathering his s’mores makings.
“Sure.”
Doug watched the two guys disappear into the pop-up camper they shared. Neither he, Rosalia nor TJ moved.
“I don’t want to go in yet,” Rosalia said quietly.
“Me either.” TJ took a sip of his beer. “Too comfortable here. I like watching the fire.”
Doug felt the same way. He wasn’t sure what it was about a campfire that soaked into his soul and made him feel peaceful.
The longer they stayed here, the more Doug could forget the rest of the world existed. It was one of the reasons he’d wanted TJ to come along so badly.
If anyone needed to forget about life for a while, it was TJ.
“Die a Happy Man” came on the radio and Rosalia smiled. “I love Thomas Rhett. He is such a hottie.”
“I like slow country songs. Reminds me of high school prom,” TJ said. “Doug and I doubledated for our senior one.”
Doug picked up the story. “Took the Pearson twins. Hannah and Heather.”
Rosalia laughed. “Why does this story not surprise me? And why do parents always feel the need to give twins names that start with the same letter or that rhyme?”
Doug shrugged. “One of the great mysteries of life.”
“Who did you go to prom with, Rosalia?” TJ asked.
Doug had a feeling he knew what Rosalia’s response would be before she gave it. Over the past few years, he’d learned she had been a loner in school, super smart and shy. She had told him once that she’d started working in the family restaurant in order to save money for college. With seven kids in the home, her family simply didn’t have the funds to send her to any university. So a fourteen-year-old Rosalia took it upon herself to set up the college fund, dividing her time between work and school, saving every penny for her future.
“I didn’t go.”
TJ frowned. “Why not? Because I know there’s no way in hell you weren’t asked.”
Rosalia blushed.
Doug had noticed her pink-cheeked reaction to TJ ever since the first night. He tried to ignore it, tried to push away the thought that the woman he was crazy about was interested in his best friend.
“I was asked by one boy. But it was more along the lines of a ‘since neither one of us has anyone to go with, we might as well go with each other’ invitation. I said no. Saturday nights are the busiest at the restaurant, and I couldn’t see wasting so much money on a dress I’d only wear one time.”
Typical Rosalia response. She was always too practical, an old soul who never seemed to succumb to the things most girls considered a rite of passage.
“What about other dances?” TJ persisted.
She shrugged one shoulder, her silence answering.
TJ leaned forward. “Didn’t you ever go to a dance before?”
Rosalia shook her head, and Doug noticed the same sadness he’d been seeing the last two weeks creep back into her eyes. There was something going on with her, but he hadn’t known how to ask her, or even what to ask. On the surface, she was the same old Rosie. It was only on occasion that he caught these glimpses or got this feeling something was bothering her.
He kept dismissing the thought because Rosalia told him everything when they were on the road and even when they were off, the two of them emailing and calling several times a week when they were apart. He was her shoulder, and she was his. If something was up, she’d tell him.
He hoped.
When her somberness persisted, Doug pushed himself out of the chair. “Well, then we’ll just have to take you to your first dance tonight.”
Rosalia tilted her head. “What dance?”
“The campfire dance. It’s all the rage these days. Way more popular than prom or homecoming.”
She laughed when he held out his hand, letting him pull her up and into his arms. His body reacted before his brain could kick in.
His cock thickened and every muscle tightened with need. She smelled like Hershey chocolate and woodsmoke, and he breathed her in as they swayed in time to the song.
Doug wasn’t sure what he expected Rosalia’s reaction to his impromptu dance to be, but it was pretty much anything other than what she did.
She had resisted his flirting throughout the last three trips, claiming they were colleagues and that was a relationship line she’d never cross.
That didn’t feel like the case right now.
Rosalia let him pull her close, her body flush to his, her breasts crushed against his chest. She pressed her cheek to his, every now and again moving it slightly, as if she couldn’t resist caressing his face with hers.
There wasn’t an inch between them, and her arms held him tightly.
Doug moved his hands from her waist to her back, his fingers lightly stroking along her spine.
While his friend remained quiet, Doug could feel the weight of TJ’s gaze on them. He chanced a look over—and his heart squeezed almost painfully at the sight of the naked desire on TJ’s face.
TJ wanted Rosalia. That much was obvious. But there was something else smoldering there that Doug was struggling to reconcile.
Because TJ wasn’t looking at just Rosalia. He was looking at him, too.
The song ended, but Doug didn’t notice until Rosalia released him, taking a step back. “Thanks for the dance, Doug. It was really nice.”
It took everything he had not to tug her back into his arms—music or not. He wanted to kiss her. No. He wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that.
He wanted her naked, under him. Wanted to bury himself deep inside her wet heat, take her hard and fast, and then take her again.
And…he wanted TJ there with them.
Doug dropped his arms, freeing her as the unexpected, forbidden dream drifted through his mind.
Doug had come to grips a long time ago with the fact that his family didn’t follow the same rules when it came to falling in love.
