Love Under Two Introverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “They said we have a private villa for a week.” Carol blushed, leaned forward, and lowered her voice. “Apparently, also for the week, clothing will be optional.”

  “Now that’s what I call a honeymoon.” Tasha routinely forgot that just about every member of the families had trust funds. The people of Lusty didn’t live rich as a rule, but there were always exceptions to that rule. Honeymoons were one of those exceptions.

  “You’re going to have a wonderful time,” Tasha said.

  “All I care about is it will be the three of us, alone, for an entire week. And yes,” she giggled, “the clothing optional part is very nice, too.”

  Tasha hugged her. Carol was so happy, and she was happy for her. The women that she’d met since coming to this town—including most of the ones who’d come with her for jobs when Chloe opened the spa—were all mated and building their very own happy-ever-after.

  “So, um…this is nice.” Carol made a circular motion with her finger to indicate the table they were sitting at—and, because she knew her, the fact that she, Tasha, was there with Clay and his kids, and Gord.

  “It’s been fun,” Tasha said. It wasn’t that she was holding back, exactly. She’d never really been one to open up very much about herself or her feelings.

  “Are the three of you dating?”

  “We might be. We’ll see.” She frowned. She still couldn’t see a trip to the community center and a Commitment Ceremony in her own future. “I don’t know.” She shrugged.

  “I won’t say another word. Except, a few times, I’ve been around when they’ve been watching you. So I’m kind of not surprised.”

  Tasha was, but only because she’d done a pretty good job of convincing herself that neither Clay nor Gord was really all that interested in her, romantically.

  The newlyweds moved on to the next group, and the children returned to the table to have some dessert. It always amazed Tasha how organized Kelsey, Carrie, and Tracy were. Of course they had plenty of help when it came to stocking the buffet and clearing away dishes. They spent the morning cooking both at Lusty Appetites and then in the kitchen here. The amount of food they were able to produce between them, with a few of the older women pitching in, was just short of phenomenal.

  Tasha showed real restraint and limited herself to one really decadent-looking cream puff. She was just licking the icing sugar off her fingers when Gord returned from the buffet and set a second one down in front of her.

  “My mother used to say that there’re no calories in a dessert served by friends.” Gord winked at her and Tasha chuckled, and promptly ate the second helping of heavenliness.

  Bonnie began to lag as the excitement of the day caught up to her. Fortunately, Melissa Parker came by their table to collect the kids. Faster than Tasha would have believed possible, the young girl was shepherding the children out, with promises of a Wii marathon at the Dorchester residence—and back and forth smack-talk between her and Shaun that the other was “going down.”

  “I think Shaun has a bit of a crush on Melissa,” Clay said. “Since the first time she came over to watch them for me, he’s settled down, some. When he knows she’s going to be there, he takes extra special care of his appearance.”

  “Well, I know for certain that Bonnie is the object of someone else’s first crush.” Tasha subtly nodded toward the table next to them. The Kendalls were all having a good time, but Benny was sitting and watching the door where Bonnie had just exited.

  Clay grinned. “I can feel for him, even if it is my daughter he has a crush on. Do you remember your first crush, Gord?”

  “Yes, I do. I had Miz Kendall—Miranda Kendall, Adam and Jakes’ grandmother—for a teacher my first year in school. She’d retired actually, but filled in every now and then when one of the teachers was off, sick.”

  “Ah, the allure of the older woman,” Tasha said.

  “Indeed,” Gord said. “Of course, I think I was fickle in my younger days, because that only lasted a week. Then I met Sally Martinez. With her pretty red hair and big blue eyes—her father was a Martinez but her mother was an O’Connor—man, she had me captivated. That was when I was six. You, Clay?”

  “Priscilla Montgomery in third grade,” Clay answered immediately. “Blonde and blue, and with a couple of older brothers that made courting her a real challenge. I was eight at the time—I was slower off the mark than you, my friend.”

  Tasha sat with her chin resting on her hand, her gaze going from one man to the other. “I had no idea that boys developed crushes quite so young. I thought Benny’s adoration of Bonnie a rare thing.”

  “It’s a momentary aberration. Then peer pressure sets in, and all of a sudden, and for the next several years, girls are ‘icky.’” Clay grinned.

  “Peer pressure. The greatest force known to human kind.” Gord nodded in agreement.

  Tasha noticed that some families with small children were leaving, while other teens—or grandparents—appeared at tables to collect the children of adults who were staying for the dance.

  Samantha Kendall and her husbands had their hands full with their four grandchildren, and judging by the smiles on their faces, they wouldn’t have things any other way.

  Soon after, the clearing up began in earnest, and the sound of chairs and tables being moved echoed through the hall.

  They’d had two square tables pushed together, but now Clay and Gord got up and pitched in with the rest of the men to clear the dance floor. Tasha was going to help but they shooed her away so she took advantage of the opportunity to go to the ladies’ room and freshen her makeup. She didn’t take long, and when she returned to her dates it was to discover they now had a smaller table in a corner, with three chairs set very close together. Both men got to their feet as she approached, and settled her down between them.

  The lights dimmed, and the local band, Just Us, began to play.

  Tasha had never stayed for the dance portion of the program. There’d never been any reason to before.

  Her heart rate kicked up a few notches when Clay and Gord moved in just that much closer. Clay slid his arm around her, resting it on the back of her chair. Gord picked up her hand and held it almost reverently in both of his.

  “We have a plan,” Clay said. “Do you want to hear it?”

  Tasha trembled inside, and wondered if they knew. She swallowed and, finding she had no voice, simply nodded.

  “We want to dance with you,” Gord said. “Each of us, not both of us, as neither of us has done that yet. But we figured a couple of slow dances, each.”

  “Then, because we are a little older, major introverts, and don’t necessarily appreciate public displays of affection, we’d like to go back to Gord’s house and have some coffee. He has a place outside of town on a good-sized chunk of land. Very private.”

  “You’re concerned about privacy?” Tasha couldn’t explain why just the thought of being off somewhere private with these two men made her shiver.

  Gord shook his head. “Not for us, but for you. We know that you’ve been a bit reluctant to be open to seeing us. We don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

  “We don’t want to center you out or let others think we’re an item,” Clay said.

  Tasha hadn’t understood that, while seeking to guard her own heart, she’d sent out unintended messages. She sighed. She really needed to clear the air with these two good men.

  “Dances, yes. Coffee, yes. Public displays of affection? We need to talk first but after, if you’re amenable, then again, yes. But there is something y’all ought to understand first.”

  She felt them look at each other for a moment.

  “And that is?” Clay asked.

  “Everyone who was here today already thinks of us as an item, simply because I was with you and the children all afternoon. And that doesn’t bother me, if it doesn’t bother you.”

  She noticed two things at once. The first was that Clay tensed, just ever so slightly, just for a
moment. And the second was that Gord sighed in relief.

  No doubt, a frank discussion between all three of them was in order.

  Then Clay held out his hand and said, “Dance with me?”

  Tasha put her right hand in his. Gord kissed her left hand, and smiled at her, telling her without words to enjoy herself.

  As Clay led her to the dance floor, she decided that, for the rest of the time they spent right here at the community center, she would do just that.

  * * * *

  The band played fairly well, the ambience of the hall approached intimate, and the woman in his arms felt like heaven.

  It had been more than a year since Clay had danced. The last time—and he couldn’t help but think of the last time—had been with the woman he’d believed he would grow old with.

  After sixteen years of marriage, he and Vicky meshed well on the dance floor, their movements flowing, in sync, and natural.

  Tasha danced well, following his lead, and it bothered him a little that she felt so right within the circle of his arms.

  She must have sensed that his mind wandered. “Memories?” she asked.

  She deserved better than to have his mind straying to thoughts of his late wife while he was on the dance floor with her. “A few. I’m sorry.”

  “No. Please, never apologize to me for the times when those memories rise up. They’re sacred, and a part of the man you are.”

  He bent forward and kissed her forehead. “If Vicky’s spirit was standing here beside us, I can guarantee you she’d kick my ass and tell me it’s past time for me to let go, and live.”

  “Did you talk about it, the two of you? The way that I’ve heard some couples do?”

  She didn’t have to explain her question. Her willingness to be open and listen was just one of the things he really liked about her. “Yes. Only…”

  “Only it was you telling her to grieve for a time, and then move on.”

  “You’re a very perceptive woman, Natasha Garwood.”

  “I am Madam Mysterious. I know all, I see all.”

  Clay grinned. It was the damndest thing, but with just a slight change in her facial expression, and the hint of an accent, she looked and sounded like he imagined Madam Mysterious would. “Come here, you.” He tucked her in closer, and sighed when she took his cue and became pliant in his arms. Her head lay just under his chin and her body rested flush against his.

  The band played their version of Blake Shelton’s “Mine Would Be You,” and Clay focused on the music, and simply dancing with the woman in his arms.

  Tasha’s scent, something light and floral, went straight to his head. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. Maybe if I breathe deeply enough I can breathe her right in. I could absorb her positive energy, and her joy of living. That was a whimsical thought. Clay had never been given to whimsy.

  The band moved smoothly from the slow, romantic beat of Blake Shelton into the slightly more upbeat, instrumental version of Dustin Lynch’s “Wild In Your Smile.”

  Clay wasn’t a fool. He didn’t let go of Tasha. He merely increased their tempo—and put just a little distance between them. The second song had snuck up on him—he’d intended to have only one, and then turn her over to Gord.

  “They’re good, even without their lead singer,” Tasha said.

  He wondered if he was giving off signals that he wanted to keep things light. No, you moron. Men and women do this on the dance floor, too. It’s called talking. He did need to lighten up something, and that was his own control. “Oh. They had a singer?”

  “So I’ve been told. I guess he was a friend of the lead guitarist. A drifter who just moved on.”

  “I wonder if Gord knows that—that the band is without a vocalist.”

  Tasha tilted her head to the side and met his gaze. “He’d have to, wouldn’t he?”

  “Yes, but I was thinking, he should audition. He’s got a really good singing voice.”

  Tasha’s smile, slow and sweet, let him know that she was indeed attracted to his best friend. The idea didn’t make him jealous in the least.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  Clay nodded. “Maybe you can coax him into singing for you.”

  “I may indeed do that. But I don’t know if even combined the two of us would have any luck getting him up on that stage. His shyness is very real and bone deep.”

  Love can change a man. Of course, Clay didn’t say that. He believed it, but thought that under the circumstances, the more accurate maxim might be that love can change some men.

  Some of us are beyond love’s reach.

  “You have a point. I don’t know what I was thinking.” The music came to an end and he placed another chaste kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m hogging you, and that’s not nice.” He led her from the dance floor, and nodded to Gord as they approached. That man got to his feet.

  “Do you need to rest? Have something to drink?” Gord asked.

  “No. I need to dance with you.”

  “Well, then, never let it be said I denied a beautiful woman something she needed.”

  Clay held back his chuckle—his friend did need to work on his lines, just a little. “I’ll grab us some drinks. What would you like, Tasha ?”

  “Just a Diet Coke for me, thanks,” Tasha said. Then she smiled. “Y’all go ahead and have some beer. I’m just in the mood for cola.”

  The music started, another slow melody that Clay didn’t recognize. Gord led Tasha out onto the dance floor and he headed over to the bar. There wasn’t much of a line and he was back at the table before their first dance was done.

  They look good together. Clay sipped his beer and watched his best friend dancing with the woman he’d told Clay he’d already fallen in love with. Clay couldn’t deny that he felt very strongly attracted to Tasha, himself.

  He knew Tasha had been telling the absolute truth about the depth of Gord’s shyness. The man had been completely besotted with her the moment he’d met her, but had felt unable to do anything about it on his own.

  The moment Clay had agreed the esthetician was a desirable woman, Gord had proposed that they court her, Lusty style.

  He could easily see himself and Gord building a life with Tasha Garwood. His kids were already crazy about the two of them, and he knew the feelings were mutual.

  Clay would never fall in love again. Been there, done that—and the pain of loss had nearly killed him.

  But a caring and considerate family built on respect, and genuine affection? Clay figured that would be a no-lose proposition, for everyone involved.

  Chapter 4

  Blair’s gaze kept going to the lower right-hand corner of the computer monitor. It had been over four hours since the e-mail had been sent.

  He should have responded to me by now. He usually answers me right away.

  A quick look at the time and then an even quicker subtraction of an hour said it was half past nine in the evening, central time. Central time in Texas, of all places.

  Blair knew the children went to bed no later than nine in the evening. Oh, crap, it’s Saturday. Could he have taken them out to dinner? Maybe out to a movie?

  Possible. That was entirely possible, although Clayton didn’t do that very often. No, the man was all business, and very successful at it, too. Those poor motherless children needed someone they could turn to, someone who would love them and care for them and spend time with them.

  They needed Blair.

  This is longer than the six months I thought he’d wait before reaching out to me, making me his own. Blair had kept excitement from showing when the announcement of Victoria Dorchester’s death had hit the Toronto papers. When no word of charges being laid against Clayton had surfaced, respect for the man’s intelligence had soared.

  He’d found a clever way to kill his wife so they could be together.

  Blair had waited and waited. But the communications between the two of them never varied from the usual business-casual and some
what jocular tone they’d developed over the years.

  Of course, after a lot of thought, Blair had understood. Clayton was obviously still under suspicion and was being careful. Yes, you must be careful, my love. Nothing would be served by Clayton being arrested for murder. That would ruin everything, dashing all of Blair’s hopes and dreams.

  If that happens, I will step forward and confess to the deed myself. Blair had friends on the Toronto force. A few questions asked would provide cause of death, suspected weapons—in short, all the information necessary to make a confession appear completely legitimate.

  So huge was the love Blair had for Clayton Dorchester.

  I would step in front of him in a heartbeat and take that bullet. Blair giggled. They would almost be like Romeo and Juliet, wouldn’t they?

  Blair had work to do, clients to appease, but it was hard to focus while waiting for word from Clayton. Hands stayed on the keyboard for only a few moments at a time. Concentration lasted for even smaller intervals. Instead, Blair dreamed of the future. Texas did have a few advantages over Toronto, in that the weather was better there. No more frigid winters with those horrid ice and snow storms.

  Blair had done some research on the state. They let people be, there. The people of Texas believed in self-sufficiency and in the maxim that a man’s home is his castle.

  Really, Clayton had been very smart, relocating there.

  Blair stayed in that happy place—dreaming of the future with Clayton—for a long while. But by the time it was ten thirty, Texas time, Blair’s desperation soared. Maybe I could call him. Just to check….no, I know! There had been a bit of a winter storm today, and the electricity had gone off for an hour. Perhaps…perhaps some e-mails could have been lost, during that time? Floating around in cyberspace, never to be seen again?

  The alterations to the website that e-mail to Clayton had detailed were critical. Blair had added an entire new line of services to the business, in the constant pursuit of being the best.