by Cari Quinn
Well, not entirely. The threesome hadn’t been his idea. The kiss on the side of the road that had led to Drake reopening the sharing box, okay, fine, his doing. Adrenaline and moonlight and the highs and lows of Wade’s wedding day had obviously created some kind of crazy surge of lust inside him, because he’d never lusted after Paige before that night.
Liar. You just refused to acknowledge it.
Even so, if he’d felt the occasional niggle in her direction when she tipped back her head and laughed that full-bodied laugh of hers, or when she bent over to pick up a bag of feed and a little too much cleavage spilled over her top, or even when she teased him about stupid stuff and got a grin out of him no matter his mood—that had been manageable. With effort, he’d been able to direct his thoughts away from her, because where Paige went, Char wasn’t far behind.
He’d just never, ever wanted to go down that road. Out of respect for his ex, and for Paige. He didn’t want anything to disrupt their friendship, even momentarily. Definitely didn’t want anyone wondering if he was using Paige as some kind of revenge for Char marrying Wade. He really and truly was over Char and wished her and Wade the best. But in case tongues waggled, he’d wanted to stay out of the hot-topic seat for a while.
Until last Saturday night, when everything had changed. For that one night, he hadn’t cared about anything but Paige and Drake.
Now he couldn’t breathe without smelling her damn flowery perfume. Couldn’t swallow without imagining the sweetness of her pussy on his tongue. He hadn’t gotten to taste it last weekend, and his imagination was filling in the blanks. There was so much he hadn’t gotten to do with her.
With them.
Unbidden, an image of Drake stroking his cock popped into his head and he gripped the wheel and shut his eyes, swerving back into his lane at the blare of a horn.
Jesus. What was wrong with him? This was why he’d stopped things last year. Sharing had become just a little too comfortable for them. So much so that when Drake had leaned over the woman they were with and brushed his fingers over Colt’s dick, he hadn’t stopped him. The woman, Beth, had been jerking him off, and Drake had simply joined in. And he’d liked it.
Fuck, he’d loved it—and he’d wanted more. Not just from Beth, but from Drake too. With her, and maybe even when they were alone.
He didn’t know what that meant. Or if it meant anything at all, except he was a messed-up motherfucker because he’d let one inexplicable night come between him and his buddy. For the past year, there had been awkward silences where there had been none before. Times when he’d known he needed to step up and say something. The elephant in the room was sitting on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Then last weekend had happened, and everything had gone back to normal for that one night. They’d been in sync again in more ways than just in running their business. If only he’d managed not to screw the whole thing up by not oversleeping…or when he had, by not running from the situation like some pansy jerk.
He didn’t want to be that guy anymore, the one who couldn’t be trusted to keep his pants on for more than ten minutes at a stretch. Those rumors had dogged him throughout his marriage to Char. Being part of an ongoing threesome would only convince people in town that not only had he not changed, he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. He was wearing his horndog status proudly.
But how in the sweet fuck was he supposed to stand by, knowing Drake would likely be sinking into Paige’s delicious body tonight? That she would be touching him, and sucking him off, and they’d be laughing together. Without him.
Everyone was pairing off and moving on, leaving him on the sidelines. The same place he’d been since he’d been tossed ass-first out of the NFL.
“You gonna get out of that truck, boy, or you working on getting carbon monoxide poisoning?”
Colt glanced at the closed driver’s window, realizing he’d driven the rest of the way to Coach’s and parked without even noticing. He needed to get his head in the game.
“I’m not in the garage, am I?” he said over the engine, turning off the truck and pocketing the keys. “Can’t get carbon monoxide poisoning sitting out in the driveway.”
“No, but you can’t afford to lose any more brain cells.” Coach grinned while he said it, and Colt grinned back, but the fact was, right then it nagged at him just like wanting Paige did. Except in a whole different way.
He’d once been the golden boy, the one who could do no wrong. Growing up had put the kibosh on that. Now people probably saw him as a has-been. A once-was, in spite of his successful business with Drake. He’d gotten divorced early and had taken on his player-without-a-conscience role with zeal. Too bad he’d grown out of it some time ago.
With age came wisdom—sometimes. He could accept that football hadn’t ended up being for him. He could accept his marriage hadn’t been a good fit. He just couldn’t accept that there was something wrong with him and Paige and Drake having fun. There was nothing wrong with them growing closer. Char was remarried, for God’s sake, and what he did with Paige behind closed doors shouldn’t affect anyone but them.
Damn guilt wouldn’t shut up, though. So he’d let Drake head out after her, while he sat there brooding like a dumbass.
“Hey there, what’s eating you?”
He glanced over at Coach, realizing he still hadn’t moved to open his door. Hadn’t even rolled down the window, leaving Coach to shout through the glass.
Finally, he stepped out, shielding his eyes from the last of the sun’s rays. “Just got some stuff on my mind. Nothing worth wasting breath on.” Yet another lie. It was worth spending hours on, days, if it meant he’d get another chance not to be such a colossal dick. “Put me to work,” he added. “Anything you need, I’ll do it.”
“Good, because I have a big task for you tonight.” Coach headed up toward the wide front porch instead of circling around back to where the barns and outhouses were.
He walked slower than he once had, but he’d picked up some of his previous speed the past few months. Having everyone back from the championship team to help out around the ranch had hopefully eased some of the strain he and his only daughter, Lorelie, had felt after his unexpected heart attack back in the spring. Some of their old teammates had never left town, like Joel and Carter and Rafe, Charlene’s older brother. Colt had been around since his NFL days too. But Wade and Tucker and Jackson had all come back to set down roots.
“Sit,” Coach said, lowering himself to the top step and patting the spot beside him.
Colt smothered a groan. Uh-oh. Here it came. Coach had that sharpness to his gaze that meant he’d decided one of his “boys” needed a good talking to. Fourteen or forty, he treated anyone who had been on one of his football teams the same way. His door was always open. And if someone needed a shove through it, well, he’d provide that too.
Colt sat, because there really wasn’t anything else to do. He could try to divert Coach, could even flat-out say he didn’t want to talk about it, but Coach was as stubborn as a horse who wouldn’t heel. Cajoling of any sort rarely worked.
“Nice night, isn’t it?” Slowly, Coach leaned back, placing his hands on the porch floor behind him. “Been a warm September.”
“Aren’t they all?” Colt asked drily, staring out at the bleeding golds and pinks filtering across the sky. Sunset wasn’t far off.
He’d meant to get there sooner, since most of the work for the day would be long done by now. But he’d figured there had to be something he could help with. Something that would keep him from thinking of Drake and Paige together, swimming in the Gulch. Probably naked. Probably unable to keep their hands off each other. Paige’s breasts wet and glistening in the moonlight, her pale skin gleaming.
“October’s a day away.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He was still mentally trying to scrub the picture of his two friends out of his head. Problem was, his cock liked it a little too much and wasn’t in any hurry to change the channel. But he’d b
e damned if he sported a semi while talking to Coach.
“So, any truth to the scuttlebutt that you and Paige and Drake are an item?”
It took Colt a moment to drag himself out of his swimming hole reveries long enough to actually hear what Coach had said. Then he gaped.
“Come on now. You think I never get off this ranch long enough to hear what goes on in this town?” Coach shook his head. “You young people think you invented sex. Why, back in my day, we used to—”
Colt groaned. “Please don’t give me a lecture on the birds and bees. I already know where babies come from.”
“Yes, and you did right by Charlene and married her. And you’ve been down on yourself ever since.”
He didn’t respond. What could he say? Marrying Char had been a good thing. It just hadn’t worked out.
Lots of things didn’t work out. So maybe it was stupid to build up hope, when in all likelihood the pot of gold wasn’t going to come to fruition anyway.
“Paige isn’t Charlene. She isn’t in love with someone else. She’s free and clear. Just like you are, you know,” Coach reminded him. It had been a while since he’d had a heart-to-heart with Coach, but he obviously remembered the ones they’d had in the past. “You aren’t wearing a gold band anymore.”
“I know. But maybe I’m trying to be the good, honorable guy for once. All those years, Coach. All those years, Char and Wade loved each other and I never saw it. Never saw a damn thing.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guess maybe I wanted to stay blind, because if I saw it, then I’d have to do something about it. I’d have to make a move.”
“Is there something you’re wanting to stay blind to now?”
The question knocked him off-guard, even more than the first one Coach had posed about him and Paige and Drake being involved. “Like what?”
“You tell me.”
“I have my eyes open,” he muttered. Even as he said it, he remembered that night with Drake and Beth. More than his best friend touching him, he’d looked at him in an intense way he’d never been able to forget. He’d been asking something that night, a question he hadn’t been ready to hear. Not then, and maybe not now.
At that point, he’d gone blind and deaf.
“You sure about that?”
Colt propped his elbows on his knees and raked his hands through his hair. “You know something I don’t, Coach?” Something I’m afraid to know, because then I’ll have to respond?
“No. Other than you’re awfully hard on yourself, and I think you’ve missed out on some damn good opportunities because of it.”
“If you’re talking about football, it wasn’t just because I got hurt. I wasn’t the standout I’d been in high school.” He stared out at the sunset as darker clouds began to filter into all the pink and gold. Night overtaking day. “Sometimes desire isn’t enough.”
“And sometimes it’s everything. You ever think that maybe you didn’t want football as much as you’d told yourself?”
Yeah, he had thought that. He sure as hell derived more enjoyment walking Misty around the paddock or helping the Daniels girls learn how to ride Jessup. Working with animals—and Drake and Miss Emmy—brought him more satisfaction than tossing the ol’ rawhide ever had.
“And maybe the reason you had trouble taking the same path others took was because it was never meant for you.”
“Let me guess. Now you’re saying I should embrace the whole threesome thing and to hell with everyone who thinks I’m nothing but an indiscriminate manwhore.” Colt laughed drily, though he didn’t think it was funny.
“That’s not your problem. Your problem is you think you’re an indiscriminate manwhore. Be honest now.” Coach sat up straight and gripped his shoulder. “You don’t give two shits what the biddies in town have to say. You only care because it’s what you really think.”
“You know, you’re entirely too smart. It’s fairly annoying.” Colt grinned and slapped Coach on the knee. “Sure you don’t want to put me to work? I’m willing to do just about anything that doesn’t involve the oven and a mixing bowl.”
“Nah, the day’s done, and my Lorelie and I have a date to watch some Game of Thrones.”
“Wow, y’all like the bloodthirsty stuff.”
“You know it.” Coach clapped his back and stood up. “You can do me one favor, though.”
Colt rose as well. “Will it hurt?”
“Maybe.” The other man met his eyes levelly. “Don’t pretend you’re fine with the status quo if you’re not. We won that championship because we all reached for the brass ring. It takes everyone on the team to get somewhere.”
“So you’re telling me to go for it.”
“I’m telling you to stop pussyfooting around and get off the damn fence. Go after what you want, son. Go after it with everything you have. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you have some great memories and the knowledge you didn’t run.” Coach scratched his chest. “Speaking of running, I smell some blueberry muffins calling my name from inside. Lorelie just made a batch. Want some for the road?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you.” Colt smiled and reached out to give Coach a quick hug. “I guess I needed that pep talk.”
“I could tell as soon as I saw you. Lord knows you never ask for anything. Just like that stubborn brother of yours.” He gave Colt a light shove down the steps. “Go on now, go. Go make me proud.”
Colt tipped his head at the other man and went back down the steps to his truck. He knew exactly where he was headed.
God help all three of them.
* * *
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Paige said, holding up her dress as she picked her way along the weeds and brush that grew on the banks of the Gulch.
“Hmm. I think I remember you saying that to me last weekend too,” Drake teased.
Even though he couldn’t see her face in the darkness, she flushed. “I’m not like you and Colt.”
She cursed under her breath. She was trying so hard not to notice his absence—and not to remind Drake of it—but they both kept mentioning him every few minutes. Colt not being there felt wrong. Not because she wasn’t immensely enjoying Drake’s company—she was—and not because she was so greedy one man wasn’t enough—okay, so maybe there was a little greed going on there too. But the main reason was that in one night, they’d established themselves as a triad. Any one of those pieces missing just seemed weird.
“Meaning?” Drake asked, unfolding the plaid blanket from the back of her truck and spreading it out on the bank.
“Meaning I don’t do the threesome thing. Well, to be honest, I don’t even much do the sex thing either.” She bit her lip, and glanced out over the bubbling creek. It wasn’t that wide, but it was a good size for swimming. Charli and Wade had spoke of cooling off here. And Colt loved it—
Colt, Colt, Colt. Sheesh, could she just get him out of her head for a little while?
“If that’s true, you must be a natural then.” Drake camped out on the blanket and grinned up at her as he kicked out his legs.
“Huh?”
“At sex. If you really don’t have much of it, which is a damn shame.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks heated again as she gingerly sat down beside him on the blanket. It was warm, edging toward hot, and the sun had set about half an hour ago. Darkness cloaked the trees and water lightly, but enough to offer them some privacy. The nearest neighbors weren’t close by anyway, and other than the possibility of the Bennetts happening upon them, they should be fairly safe. As long as they weren’t too loud.
So no screaming O’s. Assuming Drake even made a move in that direction. So far tonight he’d been a perfect gentleman, something she respected and absolutely did not hate with the power of a thousand suns.
“You know, the Bennetts could come down here anytime,” she said, rather than elaborating on the sex conversation she’d inadvertently started. She didn’t want to seem too eager.
You know, you could always
make a move yourself.
No, she couldn’t. She might be becoming braver, but initiating sex with a new lover wasn’t quite her level of ballgame yet.
“They could,” he said cheerfully, patting the space beside him. “C’mon closer. You’re so far away.”
She smiled and inched across the blanket to him. A fly buzzed in her face and she swatted it away, making him laugh. She wouldn’t let a few bugs ruin what could be a perfectly roman— Enjoyable night. Romance wasn’t in the cards, and that was just fine.
Drake looped his arm around her waist and drew her against his side, tipping his head against hers. His hand skimmed up the expanse of thigh revealed by her sundress. “You look beautiful in this.”
The compliment made her belly swarm with butterflies. “It’s a little tight—”
“What’d I tell you about that?”
She glanced up in shock as Colt dropped down to the blanket on her other side.
“What’re you doing here?”
“My property,” he said easily. “Okay, my parents’, but same difference.” He leaned around her to speak to Drake. “What you taking so long for, Mondell? I expected her to be naked and thoroughly fucked by now.”
“Waiting on you,” Drake said with a grin.
“In that case…”
Before she could blink, Colt had tugged her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers.
The moonlight burst in her head, a million colors coming to life. His lips were hot and hungry on hers, his tongue a persuasion she would never be able to resist. His hands were already on the move, shoving up her sundress, pulling down the bodice. He seemed to be touching her everywhere at once. Another mouth nipped at her neck, trailing kisses down her back as she heard the distinctive sound of her zipper being opened.
In about five seconds, her dress was in the grass and Colt’s teeth were on her nipple through her strapless bra, tugging hard.
“Damn panties. Next time, skip them.”
He continued to suck on her breast, blowing cool air over her burning flesh, but all she could hear were the words next time in her mind.
