Breathless [McKnight, Perth & Daire 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

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Breathless [McKnight, Perth & Daire 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 10

by Beth D. Carter


  Chapter Ten

  Something broke into the half dreamscape of the early morning. It tugged her into a semi-awareness that filtered into the images playing through her mind before her consciousness realized it was the vibration buzz of her cell phone.

  Charlotte sat bolt upright and blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Something moved off to her right and she looked down to see a muscular arm draped over a pillow. Then she looked left and saw Jonas’s face half buried in the other pillow. She’d had none and now her neck had a little crick in it.

  Awareness came flooding back like a sledgehammer through stone. Oh my god! The thought blanketed every other thought in her mind.

  Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!

  They’d done it. They really and truly did it. It being the pronoun of choice here. She didn’t know whether to laugh, rejoice, or cry. The two men slept away, soft little puffs coming from each of them as they continued on in dreamland. Thank goodness she had the foresight to put her phone on vibrate last night.

  Which reminded her why she’d woken up. Praying to the god who watched over I need a moment to think girls, Charlotte sent up a verse or two that Nash and Jonas not wake up as she cleaned up. Carefully, making sure not to disturb them, she scooted down the bed, over long sprawling legs, to the edge. She glanced down at herself. Naked with a wet stickiness between her thighs…first things first. She gathered her clothes and phone and tiptoed to the bathroom, where she listened to the message.

  The call had been from her mother, who asked where she was and said that Tucker Martell was at the house for a visit. Charlotte deleted the message and then glanced at the time. Seven forty! Who the hell came calling that early in the morning?

  Grumbling under her breath she shot a quick text to her mother before showering and dressing. She’d come to the conclusion under the hot spray of the jets that for a brief moment she didn’t want to be surrounded by doubts and guilt. She wanted…no, needed…a morning off. So she sent a quick text to Holly, asking her to go shopping.

  When she peaked back from the bathroom, she saw that Nash and Jonas still slumbered, and she made a sigh of relief. She loved them and wasn’t sorry for what happened, but damn if it didn’t make her feel a little bit self-conscious. This had been what she wanted, right? Sex was one thing, trying to forge a life loving two men was something quite different. What would they think of her now? Would they be able to set aside their damned bickering to find a common ground? Would she be able not to kill them if they couldn’t?

  Just as she was about to walk out of the room, a little voice warned her about abandonment issues so she turned back and hunted through the nightstand for a pen and paper. She quickly left a note explaining about her breakfast date and then hurried out the door. She just made a huge commitment to two men. She needed some breathing space to, well, breathe. To analyze. To ponder such issues like could she bear to live in Washington state? Wasn’t it…cold? And wet? And near a very big body of water? God, would she have to take the ferry a lot?

  She had the doorman hail her a taxi and she stared out the window as the driver drove her to her parents’ house. She paid the man and hurried inside, noting with relief that Holly was dressed and waiting for her, sipping a cup of coffee. Charlotte felt something unfurl deep in her belly. Now, of all times, she needed her big sister’s counsel.

  “I’m so glad you’re ready,” Charlotte murmured. “Let me change my clothes and we can go.”

  “Aren’t those the clothes you wore yesterday?”

  Charlotte gave her a level stare. “Let’s not dwell on that, shall we? I’ll be right back.”

  Ten minutes later she and Holly left her parents’ house. Holly drove from Santa Monica toward Beverly Hills.

  “Figured we’d go to the mall,” Holly said.

  “That’s good. I’ve been wearing the same four outfits for a while now and they’re starting to look a bit raggedy,” Charlotte said and plucked at a loose thread from her shirt.

  “Yeah, it’s bad when your eyeliner is blacker than your clothes,” Holly commented as she pulled into the parking garage. “Why don’t you look for something brighter to wear? Pastels, perhaps.”

  Charlotte shuddered. “Are you serious? Do I look like a pink kind of girl?”

  Holly stopped in a spot near the elevator. “You look very pretty in pink. You remember your freshman homecoming? Mom made your dress.”

  “Good god,” Charlotte said with a snort. “I only wore that ruffled monstrosity because Dad offered me twenty dollars.”

  “What? No way.”

  “Yes way. Do I think I’d wear something so awful in public without a bribe?”

  Holly harrumphed and exited her car. Charlotte loved it whenever she could trump her older sister. They spent a good hour just walking through the huge mall, shopping but also just enjoying each other’s company. It’d been a long time since she’d had time with Holly face to face. She talked with Holly daily. It had been her one condition when Charlotte convinced her and Alastair to keep her secret. But the two sisters only saw each other at holidays, so spending a little quiet time meant a lot to Charlotte.

  “So, truthfully, why did you invite me out?” Holly asked as they took a break from shopping for a cup of coffee at the food court.

  Grumbling under her breath about still not being able to use sugar, Charlotte glanced at Holly. “I can’t invite you out for sister bonding?”

  “I suppose. But I know you.”

  Charlotte sighed. “I need advice.”

  Holly eyed her speculatively. “I take it this isn’t about the case.”

  “No. Matters of love.”

  “Normally, matters of love don’t produce frown lines.”

  “They do when one has just slept with both loves.”

  It took Holly a moment to close her mouth. “At the same time?”

  “Yes. Like I said, I kind of need your guidance.”

  Holly’s brows shot up. “I don’t think I can guide you in this. I…have no point of reference. Was this a mistake?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No, at least not from my point of view. But what if Jonas changes his mind?”

  “Jonas and not Nash?”

  “Nash is raunchy enough to not care about sharing,” Charlotte replied dryly.

  “They fight like brothers, but I guess they have to act that way for that kind of relationship.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Holly shrugged. “Most men would never consent to be in the same bed with another man, not if he was straight, anyway, and share the woman he loves. Respect and trust has to be the highest priority.”

  “Hmm. I never thought of that.”

  “Not to mention a level of understanding as well as acceptance that there are going to be times when you’ll be with one or the other.”

  “And times I won’t want to be with either of them,” Charlotte said. “They can be quite stubborn at times.”

  “You know, I initially set you up with Nash because I knew you two would be passionate with each other. But Jonas calms you, so I think maybe some people need more than one person to balance themselves out. Does that make sense?”

  “I think so. But what do you think Mom and Dad will think of me?”

  “Dad’s already stated that your love life is your own affair. I don’t think they care much who you love as long as you’re happy. Are you happy, Lottie?”

  “Oh yes,” Charlotte said with an enthusiastic nod. “Last night was—”

  Holly held up her hand, cutting off Charlotte’s glowing description. “I would rather not hear the details, thank you very much.”

  Charlotte bit her bottom lip. “They’ll still love me, won’t they?”

  Holly’s face softened. “Of course they will. You think last night’s going to change their feelings? I highly doubt it. I may not know Jonas that well, but I can assure you Nash is crazy about you.”

  Charlotte felt something loosen inside her chest. “Thanks, Si
s.”

  * * * *

  Jonas blinked as his surroundings came into focus. Daylight filtered through the closed curtains, bathing the room with muted shadows. He felt very well rested, more so than he’d felt in a long time. He stretched and his foot encountered a hairy leg. A leg that was not his. He sharply turned his head and met Nash’s amused gaze.

  “Oh hell,” he muttered.

  Nash grinned. “Not the face you were expecting?”

  “It’s like a nightmare followed me awake. Go back to your own room.”

  “You sure are grumpy in the morning. You always like this?”

  Jonas flung an arm over his eyes. “I need coffee. Or whiskey.”

  “We’ve driven you to drink, have we?”

  “Not ‘we.’ Just you.” He sat up, making sure the sheet was around his waist. “Speaking of which, where’s Charlotte?”

  Nash, who was closest to the table, pointed. “There’s a note.” He rose from the bed to grab it.

  “Dude,” Jonas objected. “Put some clothes on!”

  “You saw my junk plenty last night.”

  “Daylight brings a whole different context. Would you want me to walk around naked?”

  “You have a point,” Nash stated. He found his underwear and slipped them on and then read the note. “She went shopping with Holly.”

  Jonas looked for his clothes and realized they were near the bathroom, so he yanked on the sheet and wrapped it around his waist. “I need a shower.”

  “I guess that’s code for get the hell out, eh?”

  Jonas watched him gather his personal items and slip on his pants. Nash studiously avoided looking his way. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. Are you okay?”

  Jonas thought about it. “Sure.”

  Nash snorted. “We sound like fucking jokes, don’t we?”

  “No, really. I thought…I’d be jealous. And while the morning after is certainly awkward, I’m…okay. You?”

  Nash took a deep breath and let it out slowly, an obviously ploy to buy some time. “I ain’t kissing you or anything but, well…yeah. I’m okay. Listen, gonna head out. Shower, bathroom, etcetera, etcetera.”

  “Sure. Later,” Jonas said with a wave.

  Nash waved back and quickly left.

  It took a moment for Jonas to process the morning, but when he did, he couldn’t help but laugh.

  * * * *

  “You know, I think we should start heading home,” Holly said, standing and gathering her bags. “I don’t think I can carry much more.”

  Charlotte also bent to gather her bags. “I’ll be glad when this investigation is over.”

  “Me too. Twelve years is too long to spend wondering about a killer.”

  Just as they took a few steps away from the food court, Holly took a sip of her coffee and Charlotte stopped.

  “I forgot my coffee,” she said. “Wait here.”

  She hurried back to their table and saw her coffee cup still there. But now it rested on top of a piece of paper…one that had her name scrawled on it. Her mouth went dry and she reached out with a shaky hand to pick up the paper. The words blurred a bit and she blinked a few times to clear her vision. She took a deep breath and read the paragraph.

  “Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me.”

  Charlotte was dimly aware of her name being called, but she couldn’t for the life of her pull her attention away from the paper in her hands. Not until Holly pried it away, that is, and then all of a sudden awareness flooded life back into her.

  “What is this?” Holly was asking.

  “Come on,” Charlotte said urgently, grabbing Holly’s arm. “We have to get out of here.”

  “Oh my god,” Holly breathed. “This was left for you.”

  Holly looked around the food court, turning in a circle as if that would magically make the person who left the message appear.

  “Let’s go, Holly,” Charlotte urged and Holly nodded.

  They hurried through the mall, almost running, ignoring the curious stares of people looking at them. Once they made it to the car, Holly wasted no time in pealing out of the garage. Charlotte stared out the window, although she didn’t see one single thing and she was only vaguely aware that Holly began talking on her cell phone. She wanted to tell her sister that she could get pulled over if a cop saw her, but couldn’t dredge up the words.

  “Are Nash and Jonas there? Get to the house, call them. It’s an emergency, Alastair.”

  Twenty minutes later they pulled into the driveway of their parents’ house. The front door opened and Nash ran out, followed by Jonas. Alastair waited in the opened doorway. Charlotte stepped out of the car and was immediately engulfed in Nash’s arms. Jonas’s hand cupped the back of her head.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Inside,” Holly ordered.

  James and Annie waited in the kitchen and stared in concern as Holly marched up to the kitchen table and laid down the piece of paper.

  “What’s that?” Alastair asked. He came to stand next to Holly. Everyone else filled in around the table but Nash and Jonas refused to leave Charlotte’s side.

  “It was left for Charlotte to find. It has her name on the front.”

  Necks were craned as each person read the note.

  “Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. What the hell does it mean?” Nash asked, almost snarling the question.

  “It’s Moby-Dick,” Jonas replied. “In the book, Ishmael brings attention to two different kinds of peril, dangers to the body and dangers to the soul. He’s weighing the decision about boarding a whaling ship and concludes that if something happens to the boat it can’t destroy his soul.”

  “Well, that’s very philosophical but what does that have to do with me?” Charlotte demanded.

  “Life and death, shadows, spiritual, sun through the water… It sounds as if he’s got a god complex,” Nash murmured.

  “The rules of the game have changed,” Alastair said grimly. “He’s found her. He’s been following her.”

  “Oh my god,” Charlotte whispered, horrified. “This is why I never wanted to come back here. I knew…I just knew he’d want to finish what he started!”

  Annie rushed to her and drew Charlotte into her arms. “My poor baby. You should leave. Go back to Santa Fe. Away from this madman—”

  “She can’t,” Holly protested. “If she runs now the murderer gets away with it. She’s the only one who can find him.”

  “But he’s found her first!” Annie yelled. Charlotte eased out of her mother’s tight embrace. “And we don’t even know who he is! I won’t have anything else happen to my daughter!”

  “Annie,” James murmured. “Holly’s right.”

  Annie turned shocked eyes toward him. “How can you say that? He’ll hurt her! Just like he’s already hurt her once.”

  “Nash and I will protect her,” Jonas vowed.

  “As will I,” Alastair said.

  Annie gazed at each man. “When you become parents, you’ll understand why I can’t totally trust you on that. You can’t be with her twenty-four seven.”

  “Yes, we can, Annie,” Alastair told her. “Nash and Jonas will stay here, with her.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay with my parents?” Charlotte asked, biting her lower lip. “What if he comes at them?”

  Alastair shook his head. “He’s had twelve years to get at them. But just in case, I’ll have an agent assigned for when they go out. James, you’ll have a walking partner for a while.”

  “I understand,” James replied softly.

  “I’m so sorry,” Charlotte w
hispered. She covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry I’ve brought this to your doorstep.”

  “You’re our daughter,” James told her. “We wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re a Perth and Perth’s stand together.”

  “I’ll take this paper with me to the HS Agency,” Alastair said, pointing to the piece of paper. “See if there are any fingerprints on it. Looks like common lined paper to me, written with a regular black ink pen, but I’ll also have the lab analyze them.”

  “Why Moby-Dick?” Jonas murmured. “Did you ever read it, Charlotte?”

  “No. I’ve never been into novels,” she replied. “I prefer poetry.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a poetry lover.”

  “Oh yes,” Annie spoke up. “I’ve got lots of her early work. She’s gotten really good the past couple of years.”

  “Is this your ‘little of this little of that’ writing?”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “So we’re looking for someone who’s read Moby-Dick,” Holly said. “Well, that hardly narrows down the field.”

  “Yeah. And now he’s on the potential killer list,” Nash said, nodding at Jonas. “I haven’t read the book, either.”

  “Shut up, McKnight.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “This is the part you’re going to hate,” Alastair told Charlotte.

  Charlotte tensed and braced herself. It was never good when those words were spoken. The last time she’d heard them she’d been on the high dive. Her coach had told her that the first time off the board that high up was going to scare the wits out of her, and he’d been right. She had managed to do a belly flop that still made her wince from the memory.

  “You’re going to have to stay here,” he told her.

  She blinked. “That’s it?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his brows creasing in confusion. “I expected you to rant and rave and uselessly beg me to reconsider.”

  “But this is for my safety, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She shrugged. “Then I’ll stay put with someone babysitting me. Oh, excuse me, guarding me.”

 

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