“I’m fine, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Her mom’s gaze narrowed on hers, and Nica forced herself to hold that gaze. “I know what’s going on but don’t blame Sal. Tira’s Aunt Lais had a vision. We need to get you both back home—”
“No.” Nica took a step back and out of her mom’s arms, closer to Jensen and Tanner, who she felt behind her. “I’m not leaving. Not right now. I’ll be there tomorrow. I just need…some time.”
Her mom’s gaze shot to the brothers and narrowed even further.
Carmina Donato didn’t like men on the best of days, but Nica knew her mom had her reasons for being wary. She’d been hurt—crushed, according to some—by her father’s rejection and abandonment before Nica turned two. He’d wanted the woman he loved to forsake the boschetta and dedicate her life to him and their child.
Carmina had refused and paid with her heart.
Nica had often prayed to the Great Goddess Uni for her father to return, for her mom to turn some of her considerable focus away from boschetta business and Nica’s training, toward simple family things, like baking cookies and taking Nica to soccer games or softball practice.
None of the boschetta children had been allowed to play organized sports. They took too much time away from their studies. They’d all been homeschooled and had received diplomas. But math, English and science hadn’t been their major subjects.
They’d been expected to excel in spellworking, herbalism and mastery of their Goddess Gift.
Nica had been raised to believe her only purpose in life was to take her mom’s place in the boschetta, to serve her people as a healer and to keep the old traditions alive.
Her mom’s lips parted as if to say something then shut. And when she looked back into Nica’s eyes, Nica saw something flash in her mom’s eyes. Something like regret.
“Fine,” Carmina said. “I’ll expect you tomorrow. Tira, your mom would like you to come home with me. She wanted to come but,” her gaze flicked to Jensen and Taylor for a brief second, “you know that was impossible. But she is anxious to see you.”
Then her mom did something Nica never expected.
She held out her hand first to Jensen then Tanner. “Thank you. Sal filled me in on the situation and I just wanted to express my gratitude for your help. My daughter means the world to me and…well, I appreciate everything you’ve done for her and Tira.”
“We’re just glad everything turned out all right, ma’am.” Tanner’s respectful tone as he took her mom’s hand made tears form in Nica’s eyes. She had no idea why. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. And we hope to see you again.”
Nica’s breath caught at the implication behind Tanner’s words. He knew what her mom expected her to do tomorrow, knew they would try to change her mind about cutting them out of her life. As her mom had done to her dad.
Nica didn’t want to be her mom.
She wanted—
Her mom startled her by hugging her tight and laying a kiss on her throbbing temple, easing the pain there. Then Carmina smiled at her, gathered up Tira and left.
The clop-clop of Sal’s hooves announced his arrival and she looked at him rather than meet the gazes of her two men.
“Tanner, why don’t you give me that sword. I’ll get it cleaned. And why don’t you all head up for showers. Jensen could use a little patching up, Nica. Take them up and take care of them.”
* * * * *
Jensen still felt a little rattled by the pummeling he’d taken.
And he was pretty sure he had a fractured rib. But that didn’t stop him from pulling Nica into the surprisingly large bathroom on the second floor and starting to strip her.
He needed…something. To feel her against him, to take comfort from her presence.
To thrust his suddenly aching, hard cock into her and make her come.
Behind her, Tanner closed the door and pulled his own clothes off before starting the water in the walk-in shower, more than big enough to hold three people.
Nica stood there, watching him out of wide dark eyes. He had no idea what she was thinking.
Maybe he didn’t want to know.
As her bra and panties hit the floor, Tanner’s hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her back against his chest, allowing Jensen to remove his own clothes.
Then Tanner watched as Jensen stepped into the shower and reached out to draw Nica in too.
As the hot water hit his back, soaking his hair and easing tight muscles, Jensen wrapped his arms around Nica and sealed his mouth over hers.
Sighing into his mouth, she slipped her tongue between his lips, stroking and licking and making his heart pound and his blood sizzle in his veins.
His hands slid over her wet skin, molding her curves to his tense muscles. The feel of her, more than the heat of the water, began to ease that tension but created an entirely different one.
He sank into the kiss, cleared his mind of everything but the taste of her and the stroke of her fingers as she kneaded tight muscles. Various tiny and small aches and pains started to disappear and, with a groan, he left her mouth and dropped to his knees, kissing his way down her body. He reached her breasts and sucked one tight nipple into his mouth. She gasped but the sound was cut off as Tanner turned her head to take her mouth.
With his hands on her hips and hers now in his hair, Jensen focused on teasing her. He was no empath but he knew Nica had way too much on her mind. He wanted her to focus only on him and Tanner, on how they made her feel.
He didn’t want her to think about what happened later. Hell, he didn’t want to think about what happened later.
Right now, all that mattered was her.
He licked at her nipples, lapping at the water on her skin, then sucked the pebbled flesh into his mouth. Her hips thrust forward and she shuddered between them.
He wanted to continue down her body, kiss a path straight to her clit. But his need to be inside her body, to pound into her, overruled.
As he rose to his feet, Tanner lifted her off the floor and braced her against his chest as Jensen wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust straight into her wet pussy.
She cried out as he sank deep, her tight sheath clenching around him. Her gaze locked on his as he began to move, her arms wrapped around Tanner’s neck. Tanner had his face buried in her neck, nipping at the delicate skin there while his hands cupped her breasts, fingers and thumbs pinching her nipples.
Her expression ecstatic, she drew in shallow, panting breaths then tilted her pelvis toward him, sliding on him as he rocked into her. She trusted them to hold her, not to drop her. To give her what she needed and tip her over the edge into paradise.
She was almost there, almost ready. She moaned, the soft sound making Jensen’s hips jerk forward. He had no warning as he started to come, just the sensation of intense pleasure shooting through his cock and into his body.
He cried out, his hips banging against her. He’d nearly spent himself before he heard her gasp with her own release and knew she hadn’t had enough.
Pulling out, hearing her protesting moan, he set her on her feet, pulled her out of Tanner’s arms, knowing Tanner would understand.
As soon as he put his mouth over hers, he lifted and held her against his chest as Tanner grabbed her hips. And with one hard thrust, Tanner pumped inside her, shooting her straight into another orgasm.
Her body shuddering as he held her, Jensen felt Nica give herself over as Tanner relentlessly pushed her higher. Her moan made him press her closer, holder her tighter.
Suspended between them, she trusted them to hold her as the water washed over their naked bodies.
* * * * *
“So, sweetheart. You have a decision to make.”
Nica walked into the kitchen, feeling guilty about the sleep spell she’d worked over the brothers, guilty about the danger she’d inadvertently put them in.
Heartsick over the decision she had to make.
Which wasn’t much of a decision.
She dropped into a chair at the table and Sal pushed a cup of steaming hot chocolate in front of her.
“You’re going to have to wipe their memories.” That was the one thing she knew for certain. “I don’t think I can work the spell correctly.”
“Yeah, well, whether I do it or someone else does, we have a problem with that.”
In the middle of taking a sip of Sal’s decadent hot chocolate, she frowned and set the mug down. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if we wipe their memories, Tanner will never be the same. He killed a man today. That puts a mark on your soul. If he doesn’t have the opportunity to work through that with the full knowledge of what he did and why, he’ll live his life wondering why he feels this black hole inside him.”
Sal’s expression softened as she felt tears rush into her eyes. She blinked them back but there were too many to contain.
Sal wrapped his hand around hers, still cradling the mug. The warmth of his hand matched that of the mug. “Babe, the situation doesn’t have to be this dire. You know what your options are. If you ask me, there’s really no choice.”
“I know, the boschetta comes first—”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, kid, get a grip.”
Her eyes widened at the heat in Sal’s voice.
“Sal, I’m sorry. I don’t—”
“Niccola, listen to me.” His tone had softened but not by much. “If you walk away from those two men, do you think you’ll ever forget them?”
She didn’t have to answer. He had to be able to read her answer on her face.
“Do you think,” he continued, “if you shut yourself away from the world and live like your mother that you will ever be happy?”
“No.” The word could barely be heard over the tick of the clock on the wall and she forced herself to say it again. Louder. “No.”
Now Sal smiled. “Then do something about it. The boschetta has cut themselves off from the rest of the world. They’ve almost become obsolete but our civilization needs them more than ever. But we need them to function in the real world. Yes, the streghe need to maintain a connection to the old ways. But if they don’t integrate the old ways into the new world, neither will be able to function and the boschetta and our people will fade and fail.”
“And you think I’ll be able to bridge that gap? To make thirteen women who have lived their entire lives a certain way decide their way isn’t right? Sal, I’m not my mother. I don’t have her strength—”
“Nica, you’re handling two strong men. The boschetta doesn’t stand a chance.”
* * * * *
Jensen woke and instinctively froze, waiting for the pain to hit.
There was none.
Opening his eyes, he stared at the unfamiliar ceiling for a few seconds, his brain running through what had happened. Yesterday? Today?
He turned and saw Tanner still asleep on the other side of the king-size bed.
Not at home. They were in Sal’s house.
And Nica was gone. Again.
Trying not to wake Tanner, he sat on the edge of the bed, naked. He looked around and spotted his clothing, folded on a chair by the bed. They looked clean.
Maybe, in addition to satyrs and witches, there really were little cleaning fairies. He wondered if he could hire them to do their house.
Shaking his head at the absurdity of his thoughts, he slid off the bed, dressed—hell, someone had pressed his boxers, for Christ’s sake—and headed downstairs.
He headed straight for the kitchen, which seemed to be Sal’s favorite room. But the little horned guy wasn’t there and neither was Nica.
Glancing at the clock over the stove, Jensen noted the time. Six twenty three a.m.
Hell, they’d slept the night away.
And Nica was gone.
An ache caught him in the chest, having absolutely nothing to do with the beating he’d taken yesterday. The thought that he might never see her again made him want to punch something.
Movement in the backyard caught his eye. Sal crouched on the ground in front of one of the garden beds, deadheading flowers, his goat legs visible in all their glory.
Jensen knew he wasn’t out there flaunting his stuff. If Sal didn’t want to be seen, he wouldn’t be.
Backtracking to the next room, Jensen opened the door and stepped out into the warm July morning. It’d be in the high eighties later today but now it was comfortable.
He walked into the backyard, mostly shaded by a huge oak except for the strip along the side where Sal had a jungle of plants growing.
Jensen recognized tomatoes, peppers, basil, oregano and roses. There was a hell of a lot more than that but Jensen had trained people on the payroll to handle landscaping.
“Is she coming back?”
Jensen didn’t bother to beat around the bush. Sal wasn’t that kind of guy.
Sal sat back on his haunches and looked up, his face giving away nothing. “I honestly don’t know. She’s got a lot to deal with. She’s carrying a hell of a lot of expectation on her shoulders. And she’s fighting centuries of tradition.”
The weight on his chest got a little harder. “Are you going to wipe our memories?”
Sal stood, dusting off his hide. “Nope. I’m trusting you both to realize there are some things in this world that need to be kept secret.”
For Sal to lay the secret of his existence at their feet was a responsibility Jensen wouldn’t shirk. And he knew Tanner wouldn’t either.
“We know how to keep our mouths shut.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” Sal tilted his head the side and his gaze narrowed. “Do you love her, son?”
Did he? Hell, they’d only known each other a couple of days.
Did that matter?
Jensen knew what love wasn’t. He’d had an entire education in that from his father. And he knew what he thought love should be.
So, “Yeah, I love her. Tanner does too. She’s meant to be ours.”
Sal nodded, his mouth splitting in a wide grin. “Glad to hear it. Hold fast to that, Jensen. But don’t expect a miracle overnight. Give the girl some time. Both of you.”
Chapter Nine
The following Friday, Tanner and Jensen sat at the bar at Lacey’s.
All week, they’d looked for trouble behind every corner. They’d found none. No one attacked them. No one approached them. Hell, no one except their employees looked at them funny.
It was like the previous weekend had never happened.
They hadn’t seen Nica, either.
Jensen hadn’t been fit company all week, growling at everyone. Tonight Tanner had practically had to drag his brother by the hair to get him out of the house.
Tanner had known exactly how his brother felt but he’d thrown himself into the business, working late every night until his head literally hit the desk when he fell asleep. And when he wasn’t working, he’d been practicing with the sword Sal had told him to keep.
Sal had told them, before they’d left his home last week, that iron swords couldn’t be magically corrupted the way other types of weapons, like guns, could be.
Tanner wanted to be prepared. Should Nica come back. He wanted to be ready to defend her.
Two nights ago Jensen had asked him to teach him a few moves. They’d bought a couple of play swords from a toy store and, though they’d felt like idiots, they’d battled in the basement. Jensen learned fast.
Swords weren’t exactly like fencing rapiers but the basic fighting technique was the same. Tanner remembered more and more of his training from college every time he picked up the sword.
But they still hadn’t heard from Nica.
Every time the phone rang, they’d tensed. She hadn’t called. They didn’t have a cell number for her and her apartment had been cleaned out. They’d checked Wednesday.
Jensen’s mouth had gotten a little tighter, his mood a little darker.
Tanner didn’t know what Je
nsen would do if Nica never returned. He knew what he’d do. He’d drink himself into a coma for a full week then he’d hunt her down, throw himself at her feet and beg her to come back to them.
Jensen… Hell, Jensen might implode before that happened. His brother would never go after her. He’d take her loss like a death. It had taken years for Jensen to begin to get over their mother’s.
He could lose the brother he knew, the brother he’d fought so hard to keep among the living for so long.
Lacey had given them a sad little smile when they’d walked in. Obviously she knew what was going on. Even Teo’s nod had seemed sympathetic when they’d ordered.
They’d held up the bar for a couple of hours, hoping against hope that she’d show up. Jensen barely strung two words together but Tanner struck up a conversation about the Phillies with the two guys at the end of the bar to pass the time.
But it only served to make Jensen’s black mood that much more oppressive.
And when the woman approached Jensen, Tanner held his breath, praying his brother wouldn’t blow her off like an asshole.
Tanner breathed a sigh of relief when Jensen forced a smile and a brief but polite “No, thanks.”
The woman wandered over to Tanner and he tried to hold up his end of the conversation but obviously didn’t do such a good job. She made her excuses and headed back to the table with several other women within minutes.
“How long do we wait?”
Jensen’s low-pitched question barely reached Tanner’s ears. But he heard the resignation in the tone.
“I don’t know. I only know I haven’t given up yet.”
“You never did know when to throw in the towel.” Jensen shook his head and finished off his beer. “Always the optimist.”
Jensen’s sneer made Tanner’s blood pressure spike. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Jensen was itching for a fight and maybe Tanner was finally ready to give him one.
“Optimist enough to know I’m going to kick your ass, little brother.”
“Never happen, old man.”
“Let’s get the fuck outta—”
“I hope you’re not leaving yet. I just got here.”
Tanner turned as if someone had goosed him in the ass. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Nica. Dark eyes flicking back and forth between him and Jensen, she released the lip she’d been biting and tried a small smile.
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