by Mari Carr
Rodney’s words were comforting, though she couldn’t quite let them penetrate the part of her that would always feel responsible for Lyle’s death. Still, she appreciated his effort. “Thanks.”
“Go on your picnic. Have fun. Hell, one of us may as well try to get laid.”
She laughed. “What will you do today?”
“Same old, same old. The Ellie Parker lead was a bust. Struck up a conversation with her while she was making my root beer float. Her given name is actually Ellison. She gets offended when someone calls her Ellen. Really? I’m pretty sure there’s an Ellen somewhere in this damn town. I’m going to find her. Tell you what. I’ll meet up with you at the James Ranch later this afternoon. For right now, it looks like we’re still on the day-by-day plan. Lucky for us, there are three cowboys willing to help us wile away the hours.”
Matt leaned back on the large, plush quilt and grinned at Bridget as she dug into the chocolate mousse they’d packed with enthusiasm. For a slim woman, she sure did enjoy her food. The picnic had been Mark’s idea. Matt had to admit it was inspired.
The gazebo rested in the middle of a meadow on the east end of the James Ranch. Their father had built it for their mother as a wedding gift during the first year of their marriage. It was positioned with the perfect view of the mountains on one side and the ranch—far off in the distance—on the other. The winter she’d been diagnosed with cancer, their dad had added the glass windows and the small gas heater, so Mom could rest in comfort while enjoying the view of “her” mountains, as she called them.
Neither he nor Mark came here often. They’d always considered it their mom’s place, but bringing Bridget had felt right.
“I have a confession,” Bridget said.
“Another one?” Mark teased.
She swatted him with her cloth napkin. “Very funny. I’ve never had homemade fried chicken before.”
Matt sat up. “Get out of here. Really?”
She nodded. “Really. My mom didn’t like to cook. My experience with fried chicken doesn’t stretch much beyond a red and white tub with a picture of the Colonel on front.”
Mark reached over and lightly tugged on a strand of her hair. “Damn. It’s downright scary how much of life you’ve missed out on. You may need to make plans to stick around here a few more weeks, so we have time to catch you up.”
“A few weeks,” she teased. “You think that’s enough time to expose me to all the wonders of good country living?”
“Better make that months,” Mark added. “Or even a year, just to be sure.”
Though Matt knew they were kidding around, he also knew there was a strand of seriousness behind his brother’s request. Matt wanted more time with her too. More time to figure out what this feeling was and what to do with it. He’d known Bridget less than a week, but he felt certain he was falling in love with her.
“A year would be nice, but I think I’d lose my job if I stayed away that long.”
Matt tilted his head. “You know, after all this time, I’ve never thought to ask. What do you do for a living?”
She paused, and again, Matt was struck with the uneasy suspicion that Bridget was still holding back with them. Something about her confession the previous night had felt off. Several times today, he’d felt the same sinking awareness that something was very wrong. It was more than a nasty boyfriend looking for her. A quick glance at his brother confirmed Mark was thinking the same thing.
“I—”
Before she could finish, Matt placed his fingers against her lips. Pure instinct drove him. “Don’t.” He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but his gut told him she was about to lie. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. It’s not important to us what you do. We like you just fine.”
She seemed taken aback and fell silent for several moments. Matt let his gaze travel to the snow-capped mountains outside. He could see the appeal of this place, could understand why his mother loved it so. When closed in the warm, cozy gazebo, the worries of the world disappeared, ceased to matter.
“I’m a reporter for a small newspaper.”
Matt looked at Bridget and grinned. At last, she was beginning to trust them with a bit of the truth. “Jacob will go crazy when he finds that out. He’ll pelt you with a million questions.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I bet he will.”
Mark moved closer to Bridget. Matt waited for some spark of jealousy, expecting the move to ignite his competitive spirit. Nothing happened. Well, not nothing. His cock moved from its semihard state to fully erect. Freud would have had a field day with this predicament, but Matt didn’t care.
“We all seem to be ignoring the elephant in the room.” Mark ran his hand through Bridget’s hair. She’d worn it down, rather than in her usual ponytail. Matt preferred it this way.
“Elephant?” Bridget asked.
“Last night.”
Mark let those two words answer her question.
“I keep thinking I should feel bad about that,” she said. “But the truth is I don’t. I’d sort of like to do it again.”
Matt couldn’t resist teasing her. “You mean orgasm and then pass out?”
She laughed. “Don’t start with me, cowboy. That was your fault. I worked my ass off on your ranch and drank the wine you poured.”
Mark tugged on her hair. “Spoken like a true woman. Blame the man.”
“There are two of you and one of me. You better be sure I’ll score my points where I can.”
Matt lifted the picnic basket out of the way and scooted closer. “Fair enough. So let’s explore this do it again comment.”
She raised her hand and cupped Matt’s cheek. Her soft hand felt good against his skin. “This time I’ll stay awake. And this time, I don’t want to be the only person removing clothes.”
Her hand drifted down to his long-sleeved shirt, her fingers caressing his chest. Suddenly, he resented the cloth that restricted her touch. He took her hint and pulled his shirt off completely. Behind her, Mark did the same.
For several moments, she looked at them, her fingers touching them, learning them. “I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe you want me.”
More truth. Matt sensed the walls crumbling a bit. He reached for the hem of her shirt and lifted it. She helped him remove it, remaining still, letting them look their fill.
Mark broke the silence first. “How could we not want you, Bridget? You’re beautiful.”
She turned and pressed her forehead against his brother’s brow, then she moved closer, initiating the kiss. Matt watched the two of them, blown away by the intense beauty of their actions. They broke the kiss and Bridget turned to look at him.
Matt claimed her lips. He’d only gotten a brief taste the night before. Today he intended to make up for that. For several moments, he lost track of everything except Bridget’s lips—her taste, her smell, her soft moans. When he opened his eyes, he discovered Mark had removed her bra. Looking down, he saw his brother’s hands wrapped around Bridget’s middle, cupping her breasts, playing with them.
Matt moved downward as Mark lifted her breast to his mouth. Matt accepted the offering. Sucking lightly at first, Matt gradually built up the pressure until Bridget cried out in pleasure. He looked at her. “You like that?”
She nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “So much.”
He glanced at Mark, who nodded. They were brothers. Twins. They’d spent a lifetime communicating without words. That bond suddenly seemed stronger than ever.
Mark lifted her other breast and Matt repeated his playful game, alternating between hard sucks and light nips on her nipple. Soon, Bridget was begging for more.
Matt released her breast with a soft pop. Mark pressed her down onto the blanket. Lying on her back, she lifted her hips as Mark stripped away her jeans and panties.
Matt’s heart nearly stopped beating as he got his first good glimpse of their girl in all her naked beauty. “God, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.”
> She smiled. And blushed. Everywhere.
Mark chuckled. “I think it’s my turn to play down here.”
Matt watched as Mark skipped the preliminaries and went straight for the kill. She squealed when his brother’s lips grazed her clit. Mark used his tongue with skill, driving Bridget out of her mind within moments.
“No,” she finally cried out. “Not again. Not just me.”
She reached over and grasped the waistband of Matt’s jeans. “Take them off. I want to taste you too.”
A wave of lightheadedness passed over him. Matt glanced at Mark, who’d paused.
“Do it, bro.” Mark’s grin grew. “Do it or it’s my cock she’s going to taste.”
Mark and Bridget laughed softly as Matt moved with haste. “No way. She asked for me.”
“I want you both.”
Matt wasn’t sure he’d ever heard sweeter words. He stood up briefly to strip off the remainder of his clothes, then he knelt on the quilt.
Bridget reached for him the second his knees hit the floor. She wrapped her palm around his cock and lightly tugged, indicating she wanted him closer.
Moving forward, he didn’t stop until he’d straddled her upper chest, the head of his cock poised a mere inch from her mouth.
Bridget hissed and Matt looked over his shoulder. Mark had resumed his actions, his tongue dipping in and out of her sheath.
Bending forward, Matt gripped his cock, dragging the head of it over her lips. “You sure?”
She smiled, then opened her mouth, welcoming him in. At first, he kept his thrusts shallow, never pressing more than the head of his cock inside, but soon she grew greedy. Gripping his ass, she pulled him closer, trying to force more and more of his girth inside.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured when he felt the back of her throat. She shook her head lightly and the motion felt incredible. Matt closed his eyes, fearing he’d come too fast. Watching her take him so deeply inside her mouth drove him insane.
She groaned against his flesh on the next pass and he knew she was getting close to finding her own release. She tightened her grip on the base of his cock and sucked harder.
Stars flew behind Matt’s eyes. They’d have to perfect the art of longevity later. She was too perfect, too fucking good at this. He began to move faster in and out of her mouth. Her nails pierced the skin of his bare ass, driving him on, demanding more.
She writhed beneath him, finding her own pleasure. Matt felt her body stiffen with her orgasm as the first spurt of come escaped his cock. Together the two of them shuddered. Matt wasn’t sure when he’d ever come harder. Or longer.
At last, as the strength drained from him, he pulled out of her mouth, falling to her side on the quilt. He’d expected her to fall asleep as she had the night before. He was surprised when she lifted her arms to Mark instead.
Somewhere along the line, his brother had unhooked his jeans. He stroked his cock roughly.
“Come here,” Bridget invited, but Mark shook his head.
“I’m too close, Bridge. I wouldn’t last three seconds between those sweet lips of yours. I want to come on your stomach, your breasts.”
“Yes,” Bridget whispered as Mark moved closer. He leaned over her body, as he held himself a few feet above her. With his other hand, he stroked himself, quicker, harder.
Bridget lifted her hands to her breasts. Cupping them. Holding them up as she played with her nipples.
It was quite a show. Matt couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was a seductress, sexy as hell.
“Goddammit, that’s hot, Bridget.” Mark’s voice sounded rough, almost pained. “I’m going to come now. Jesus. I’m coming.”
Bridget smiled as the first drops of Mark’s come hit her stomach, then the tips of her breasts. His brother was decorating her delicate skin with pearls and Bridget accepted each one with genuine pleasure.
When the last of Mark’s offering fell, so did he. His brother collapsed on the other side of their city angel, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. Mark placed several soft kisses on her cheek.
“Spend the night with us,” Matt said, silently praying she would say yes. There was no way he could let her go back to New York yet. Maybe not ever. “Stay with us tonight.”
She looked at him, then nodded. “I’d like that.”
Matt moved closer, resting his arm along her stomach, parallel to his brother’s. Together the two of them held her, sheltered her. It felt perfect. They were an ideal union of three, and it was right.
Chapter Seven
As they pulled up to the house, Bridget tried to suppress her giddy grin. She was riding in the middle of a pickup truck—a pickup, for God’s sake—between the two handsome twin cowboys who’d just rocked her world. She wasn’t sure how she could be so incredibly happy while living in the midst of a nightmare, but there it was. Pure happiness.
They walked into the house together. Matt held her hand as Mark lightly wrapped his arm around her waist. She wasn’t sure how to explain it, but no matter what they did, they fit.
Rodney rose from the couch as they entered the living room. Bridget knew instantly he had news. From the look on his face, she suspected she wouldn’t like it. Jacob walked from the kitchen with two beers in his hand.
“Hey guys. We weren’t sure when you would be back. Rodney just got here and wanted to go out looking for you. I convinced him to have a cold one and hang out instead. How was the picnic?”
“Great,” Matt said, lifting the empty basket. “That beer looks pretty good. You want one, Bridge?”
She nodded, though her gaze kept drifting back to Rodney. She needed to find a way to get him alone. “Do you mind if I go visit Jewel?”
“Not at all,” Mark said. “I can go with you if you’d like.”
“Actually, I thought maybe Rodney would want to come. I’ve been meaning to introduce them.”
Rodney stepped forward quickly. “Yeah, I’d like that. All she talks about is this horse.”
When it looked like Mark would offer to tag along, Bridget tried to cut him off at the pass. “You know, I’m kind of cold. Do you think Jessie would mind if I borrowed one of her sweatshirts?”
Mark shook his head. “I doubt it. Why don’t I go get it and I’ll meet you two in the stable?”
“Sounds great.” Bridget hastily grabbed Rodney’s hand and tugged him toward the door. As they stepped into the yard, she looked at him. “Talk fast.”
“I think I found Ellen.”
“Oh my God. Really? Where is she? Can we talk to her?”
Rodney reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of newspaper. “I tore this out of today’s paper.”
It was an obituary for Ellen Updyke. Bridget looked at the name for several moments.
Rodney couldn’t resist pointing out the obvious. “Up. Ellen.”
Bridget nodded. “That’s her. I remember that name. God. I’m such an idiot. One night we were talking about our families. Lyle mentioned his godmother. I made some stupid joke about it being a rather unfortunate name. I forgot.”
“Lyle must have remembered the joke.”
A horrible thought crossed Bridget’s mind. “Oh my God. Was she killed?”
Rodney shook his head. “No. She was old. Seventy-three. According to this, she had a heart attack.”
Bridget felt a wave of relief pass through her. “Oh thank God. I mean, not that she’s dead, but—”
“I know what you mean, Bridget.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I was going to see how you felt about staying here at the ranch tonight.”
It was what she wanted, what she was about to request, but she was surprised to hear Rodney suggest it. “Here? Why?”
“Because I think I’m finally selling the last of my soul to the devil. I’m going to break into a dead woman’s house to look for a flash drive.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Rodney quickly refused. “The hell you will.
I’ve broken every rule beaten into my head during my police training since we left Oklahoma. Leave me some scrap of dignity. I’ll feel a hell of a lot safer with you here. Besides you’re about as quiet as a bass drum. I can’t imagine how hard it would be try to go into someone’s house undercover with you.”
She narrowed her eyes, ready to protest his insult, but they didn’t have time for the argument. And he was right. She was clumsy as hell, especially in the dark.
“Fine. I’ll stay here. What happens if you don’t find anything?”
Rodney sighed. “Then I’m afraid we may have to crash the reception after the funeral. Maybe try to question the relatives. Somehow.”
She could tell from his tone Rodney didn’t like that option.
“You two didn’t make it very far,” Mark said as he joined them.
Rodney quickly shoved the obituary back in his pocket as Mark handed Bridget a sweatshirt.
“Not sure where Jessie keeps her sweatshirts and I didn’t think she’d appreciate me rifling through her drawers. Brought you one of mine. Might be a bit big.”
“This is perfect. Thanks.” For several minutes, she tagged along as Mark showed Rodney around the stable, introducing him to the horses. It gave her time to consider Lyle’s message. They’d broken the first half of the code and it had led them to Ellen Updyke in Saratoga. Bridget silently prayed Rodney would find the flash drive tonight, so they could put the rest of infuriating puzzle away.
After dinner, Rodney claimed he had a headache and announced he was heading back to the inn for the night. Neither of the twins questioned his departure, obviously assuming she’d set it up with him because of their invitation.
Jacob declined to watch a movie with them, opting instead to head to bed with a book.
Matt grasped her hand and started to take her into the living room, but she held back.
“Where’s your bedroom?” she asked. She’d spent most of dinnertime alternating between anxious butterflies in her stomach and an ache between her legs. She wanted to sleep with Matt and Mark, even if the idea of taking on two wholly masculine, very virile men at the same time made her nervous as hell.
