Charming Jane_A Reverse Harem Romance

by Kristin Coley

  As I came out of my room, I came to a standstill, the sight in front of me shocking. Ian and Michael were asleep on opposite ends of the sofa. Buster was sprawled on the floor, one arm tucked behind his head acting as a pillow. An empty bottle of bourbon stood in front of them, acting as sentinel. My lips curved at the sight of them, they looked exceedingly uncomfortable with their arms and legs hanging off the too short sofa. Michael was a rumpled mess, his tie half-undone around his neck, his sleeves roughly rolled up. They were all sound asleep, and the expression of peace on Ian’s face kept me from waking them. Perhaps he’d found some measure of comfort in telling me his tale, and while I didn’t believe he’d told the other two, they’d obviously come to terms. I tiptoed back to my room, deciding a bath was in order. They deserved the chance to sleep in.

  My bath couldn’t be rushed as my mind played back over everything I’d learned the night before. One thing puzzled me, though. What triggered Ian’s volatile reactions? I didn’t know what caused him to suddenly revert back to the behavior Michael and Buster both seemed to think I had changed. There was still a missing piece, and without it, I couldn’t be sure Ian wouldn’t do it again.

  When I finally came back out, they were up and dressed. I blinked in shock once again, as I took in their attire. I’d seen Ian in workout clothes before, but this was the first time I’d witnessed Michael dressed so casually.

  “Has the world come to an end, and no one thought to tell me?” I managed to ask, gesturing to Michael. He wore black workout pants, tied loosely in the front with a gray muscle shirt. The look was so unlike him, I almost missed the impressively muscled biceps he’d kept hidden under his suits.

  “Amusing. Ian and I thought we’d spar today.” The look they gave one another was appraising, and judging by their pallor and the empty bottle of bourbon that had mysteriously disappeared; I imagined they were both hungover, but unwilling to admit it.

  “Breakfast first?” I piped up hopefully, glancing between them. Ian nodded, an amused smile playing around his lips.

  “Breakfast first. We’ve rented out a gym for the day’s match,” he continued, and my comment about the ridiculousness of them renting out an entire gym to spar in rolled over me and was gone with his next words. “Buster already left to prepare it for us, but we’ll stop on the way to get breakfast.”

  “Wait, we aren’t eating here?” I asked, utterly confused. We always ate breakfast at the hotel. And looking over at Michael, I still couldn’t picture him going anywhere dressed as he was.

  “Nope. Come on, love. Close your mouth before you catch flies.” Ian tapped my chin, and I snapped my mouth shut as they walked past me. I followed blindly, off-kilter from the sudden turn of events.

  When we rolled up to a pair of golden arches, I had to pinch myself to make sure I was actually awake. After they’d ordered the entire breakfast menu, Ian glanced at me to find out what I wanted. I replied automatically, still trying to decipher what was going on here. When Michael requested coffee instead of tea, I’d had enough.

  “What is going on? Did I wake in an alternate universe? Did I drown in the bathtub? Am I in a coma? Seriously?” I demanded to know, glancing between them.

  “What an active imagination you have,” Michael commented blandly as he relaxed in the back seat. As I glanced wildly between them, I caught the barest glimpse of a smile on Ian’s face as he accepted our food and passed it to me. I took it, handing the coffee cup back to Michael, which he politely accepted. I shook my head, my lap full of brown bags as Ian eased back onto the street.

  “Coffee, fast food. What next?” I muttered to myself as I leaned back against the seat. The streets were empty this early in the morning, and I recalled it was Sunday. I knew the night’s excesses would be forgotten as people went to church this morning. There were as many churches here as there were vices. It reminded me I hadn’t been inside a church, since I’d left home, discounting the one we’d toured.

  A pang pierced me as I suddenly missed hearing my father preach at the pulpit. I’d listened to him preach my entire life, and at times I could recite his sermons for him, and I’d never thought the day would come that I’d miss the sound of his voice booming over a congregation. The idea that I did now surprised me and renewed my feeling of homesickness.

  “Why do you look so sad?” Michael inquired carefully and Ian glanced over at me.

  “Nothing, I just realized its Sunday morning, and I haven’t been to church since I arrived.” I gazed out the window at the slowly stirring city. “I didn’t realize I’d miss it.”

  “Well, we’re not going to church,” Ian replied as Michael snorted in the back. I cast a quick glance at him, still impressed that he could snort elegantly. It didn’t seem like it was possible, but somehow Michael pulled it off. “But we are going to pay penance.” He didn’t smile as he met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. I settled back onto the leather seat and thought about what he meant. It was as if Ian punished himself for the past, and Michael allowed it. It seemed like a strange concept to me, but I withheld judgement as they took me to their form of church.

  We met Buster inside, and he seemed glad to see me. I didn’t utter a word as I watched them demolish their breakfast, not even when Michael picked up the biscuit with his hands. I didn’t know if I was past the surprise of it all, or if I was in shock. I leaned toward the latter as he broke off a piece of hash brown and shoved it in his mouth.

  “You’re in for a rare treat, lass.” Buster squatted next to me as we watched them warm up. It appeared to be a familiar routine for them as they cycled between stretches and cardio. “The first time I watched them, I thought they were going to kill one another. I made the foolish mistake of trying to get between them, and they turned on me.” He chuckled, a fond smile on his face. “That was over a decade ago, and now they regularly gang up to try and take me down.” His smile faded as he continued, “They may hurt one another, but you’ll never find two men with a stronger bond. They are loyal to those they care about. And the way they fight … well, you’ll see.”

  “You seemed happy to see me.”

  “I was,” he replied candidly and I raised my eyebrow at him. “I was afraid they wouldn’t show you this side of them. We’ve sparred together often enough, but you’ve never witnessed the two of them fight.” He gave me a sideways look. “But you aren’t just anyone, are you?”

  I shrugged, still uncertain of my place in their lives.

  Buster tilted his head to look me in the eye.

  “Lass, you do realize how important you are to us? All of us,” he stressed and my heart leapt at the emotion in his eyes.

  “Maybe … yes.” I knew they cared for me in their own ways. Ian had told me as much the night before. Even if the words never crossed his lips, I would always know how he felt. Ian expressed his emotions in a million tiny ways, while Buster was much more blunt. Michael was impossible to read though.

  “Hey, no frowning. What do you mean by maybe?”

  “I know you care.” I hesitated before expressing the thought that had begun to sneak up on me. “It’s do I belong? What’s my place with y’all? How do I fit?”

  The words burst from me, and Buster rocked back as I wrapped my arms around my knees and watched Ian stretch. His long muscles were lean, his movements simple and elegant, and a stark contrast to Buster’s bulk next to me.

  “Eh, now, lassie. You got it all wrong.” His brogue thickened as he spoke, and I twisted my head to look at him. He had a pained expression his face, but he held my gaze. “You’re the missing piece.” He gestured to the brothers. “They’ve been searching for family for as long as I’ve known them. They found it when they found you.”

  My expression must have been doubtful, because he gave a rueful shake of his head.

  “I don’t have their way with words. Ian can charm the venom from a snake, and Michael knows every argument a person will make and already has a counter argument prepared.” His observation made me
smile, and he relaxed a bit. “This family is a bit of a puzzle, lassie. In the big picture, you might not see a small piece missing toward the bottom, but once you find it … well, then you don’t know how you ever lived without that piece. It completes the picture, so.” He reached over and patted my head. “You complete the picture. Your place is with us, Jane. Never doubt that.”

  “But what exactly is my place?” I whispered, my throat aching with the effort to hold back the question I really wanted to ask.

  “Whatever you want it to be,” Buster reassured me, his hand rubbing the back of my neck. “We’ll never pressure you to choose.” He tugged me close and I buried my face against his chest, the question burning inside of me to be asked.

  “What if I don’t want to choose?” The words tumbled from me in a rush, barely audible, except I knew he heard them because he stilled beneath me, his hand coming to rest on my back.

  “Forget I asked,” I said in a rush, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest as I imagined the condemnation on Buster’s face.

  “I can’t do that,” he replied ruefully as his finger tilted my chin up. I fought him but it was no use. “Look at me, lass,” he crooned and the tone was so surprising I looked up. The heat in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl and Buster chuckled at my expression.

  “We won’t ask you to choose,” he repeated, the words heavy with a meaning I wasn’t certain of as I gazed into his eyes. Buster’s thumb rubbed gentle circles over my cheekbone and jaw, the motion soothing me as I tried to come to terms with what he was implying. “I know Michael kissed you, lass, and I could never forget waking up to your beautiful face.”

  “But you pulled away,” I trailed off as he smiled.

  “We saw Ian’s fondness for you and we know how rare it is. Neither of us wanted to hurt Ian, but,” Buster broke off and stared at the two brothers trash talking as they stretched. “Ian, I believe is open to the idea.”

  I swallowed hard at the thought of them discussing the idea even as my body flushed.

  “Michael?”

  Buster glanced back down at me and his expression told me he wasn’t sure. He shook his head slightly and his thumb moved to my lips when they parted.

  “He wants you happy. He wants his family happy. Never doubt that is always his first and only consideration.” Buster’s thumb brushed across my lips gently, his eyes focused on my face. “We would do anything to keep you.”

  I wrapped my hand around his, stilling it, and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

  “First, we have to figure out how to help Ian,” I told him and his eyes drifted closed for a second.

  “Aye, we should have done something long ago,” Buster sighed and I tilted my ehad.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Michael saw how bad off Ian was and he’s never one to let it go when someone hurts his family,” Buster started and I nodded, having witnessed Michael’s narrow minded determination. “He’s spent years trying to figure out what happened.”

  “Did he?” I asked, incredulous at the thought that Michael knew and had never said anything.

  “Not exactly,” Buster admitted. “More like he found the responsible parties, but they’d never admit to their own sins.”

  I gave him a puzzled glance and he heaved a sigh.

  “Their parents played a part in it,” he said and I nodded for him to continue. “And a woman.”

  “Always a woman,” I griped and Buster flashed straight white teeth toward me.

  “Always, lass. However, this woman did a number on Ian, but Michael has never known what. It took Michael a long time to pinpoint who she was, but he finally did and now the trap is set.”

  I tilted my head curiously and his grin turned deadly.

  “The woman is Audra and Michael is bound to get his revenge on her and their parents.”

  My mouth dropped open as all the pieces clicked into place but before I could say anything, Buster picked me up from where I was sitting.

  “We’ve got to move back, lass, out of the spray zone.”

  “Spray?”

  “Blood, sweat, tears. Who knows? They don’t hold back when they fight.”

  The brothers warm up had ended as we spoke, and now they prowled closer to one another. Their elegant movements were deceptive as they calculated each other’s weaknesses.

  The first strike had me gasping at the swiftness. The careful movements from earlier were gone as they moved against each other with lightning speed. Only the thud of bodies hitting one another was heard as they fought across the room. Both took the lead by turn, neither keeping it for long. They were well-matched opponents, seemingly able to predict each other’s every move.

  After half an hour of no-holds-barred combat, I whispered to Buster.

  “How long?”

  “Till one falls, or they draw.”

  “Oh.”

  I couldn’t pull my gaze from them.

  It was a violent ballet, and I was enthralled.

  I’d sparred with Buster and watched he and Ian work out together, but it was nothing like what I witnessed now. This was a dance. Elegant, brutal and intense, it took my breath away.

  A striking blow caused Ian to falter, and Michael paused. He could have continued the assault and won, but instead, he offered his hand to Ian.

  “They never deliver the killing blow.” Buster hopped up, towels and water in his hand, as he approached them cautiously. “You done beating the hel … tar out of one another?” he amended with a quick glance back at me.

  They nodded, accepting the water, and Ian met my eyes, a half smile lifting his mouth. I returned it with one of my own, my heart racing. From the fight, I told myself knowing it was a lie. The fight had been thrilling, but only Ian’s lopsided grin could make my heart pound so easily.

  He sauntered toward me, sweat darkening the white t-shirt he wore. I smiled at the reaction I’d get if I told him he was wearing a wife beater. The first time I’d used the phrase, “the devil was beating his wife,” to describe a quick afternoon rain shower we got while the sun was shining, he’d been flabbergasted by my ‘quaint Southernism.’ I couldn’t attest to the fact that only Southerners used the term, but he’d clearly never heard it.

  “And what is that smile for?” he drawled, settling on the ground next to me.

  “Just wondering how often Michael beats you,” I replied with a mischievous smile.

  “That was not a win. That was draw. And I assure you, it is rare.”

  “Mmhmm,” was my reply as we observed Michael and Buster across the room.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “I did.” I bounced a little as I remembered the quick strikes. “You need to teach me some of those moves. I’m used to Buster, and he’s not nearly as fast as y’all.”

  My demand garnered a laugh from Ian, but my intent stare had him gazing at me speculatively.

  “You did enjoy it,” he declared, surprised. “I should have known. Michael was afraid our violence would be the final straw to drive you away. But that’s not the case at all, is it?”

  I shook my head, unwilling to admit there was nothing they could do that would drive me away. Especially, if what Buster had said was true and Ian was willing to share. A hot shiver went through me at the thought and Ian’s eyes narrowed.

  “A little brawl isn’t going to scare me off,” I said redirecting his attention, and catching his wide grin.

  “Ah well, then.” His grin deepened, causing a crease in his cheek. “I guess we’ll have to keep you.” He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, stroking the curl as it wrapped around his fingers. The air thickened between us as Ian’s gaze dropped to my mouth, and the remembrance of the almost kiss from the night before rose between us.

  The sound of a throat being cleared broke the spell, and our attention jerked to Michael, whose droll stare was a direct contrast to Buster’s knowing smirk. A flush crept up my cheeks, but Ian just looked up at him.

  “
What did you need, brother dearest? Another round, perhaps?”

  “Can you manage another round?” Michael arched an eyebrow, a small smile twisting his lips.

  “A challenge?” Ian inquired as he pushed himself up. With very little effort, I noticed, knowing I’d be a mess of quivering Jell-O if I’d just fought as hard as he had.

  “Not today,” Buster stated, stepping between them. “I was only able to book the gym for the morning.”

  “Pity. If we stay any longer, we’ll have to find a more permanent solution,” Michael muttered, his sweat-soaked attire not diminishing his commanding presence in the least.

  “Purchasing a company here would be a worthwhile reason.”

  “So you’ve mentioned. Countless times.” Michael spun on his heel, ending the conversation. I watched Ian shake his head in frustration as Buster gave a small shrug. It seemed as if no one knew why Michael was so insistent on continuing the buyout, as is.

  The next few days passed uneventfully. I hadn’t told Buster or Michael what I knew of Ian’s past, or the role Audra had played, fearing their reaction. Ian remained on his best behavior, and I could only assume it was because he hadn’t seen Audra. I wondered why Michael would allow Audra to remain in New Orleans when he knew she’d hurt Ian. I also wanted to know what his plan was for revenge. A part of me wanted to participate, the memory of Ian’s devastation still fresh in my mind.

  One morning, Ian surprised me with an early morning wake up call.

  “Up and at ‘em, sunshine!”

  I groaned, burrowing deeper into the covers.

  “Come now.” He tugged the blanket down, until my head popped out. “There’s my beautiful girl. Hurry now or we’ll be late.”

  “Late for what?” I groaned as he headed for the door.