Two Times the Trouble

by Mellanie Szereto

  “Speculating only causes unnecessary concern.”

  She looked over her shoulder at the sound of Great Grandmother’s voice directly behind her. “How am I supposed to know who the right man is? My instincts told me Liam was The One, but he couldn’t make it clear fast enough that I was nothing more than a mistake to him after we finished having sex. Ivan acted like he might be interested in me, and he seems nice, but...I thought I was ready. Is every man I’m attracted to going to behave as if becoming mated is the worst thing that could ever happen? I don’t think I want to—”

  “Men are curious creatures, daughter. Oftentimes, they believe that what they think they want is not what they need. Let your body guide you. It knows, and the men will discover the truth.” Great Grandmother rubbed her wrinkled fingers over Jolán’s cheek. “Come. Your help is required in the kitchen. Rebeka must have a day of rest.”

  Something in the wording of Grandmother’s advice niggled at Jolán’s mind. No more overanalyzing today. Ignoring the nudge to dissect the statement, she offered the old woman her arm. “I’ll walk downstairs with you. Is Rebeka not feeling well?”

  “She will be fine. Carrying two strong baby boys is tiring.”

  They left the apartment, more thoughts of pregnancy and joining clawing at the raw, edgy nerves already irritating Jolán. Not that she didn’t want children—she did. The prospect of not crossing paths with their father had plagued her for months. All the extra security precautions on the estate since Orsolya’s confrontation with the ancient shifter had made the chances seem nonexistent. Now, she had two men driving her hormones crazy, and one didn’t want her.

  She froze midstep near the bottom of the staircase. What if Liam had only pretended to enjoy their sexual encounter? What if a year’s worth of training hadn’t taught her how to be a good lover? Had she focused too much on learning how to bring her own pleasure?

  Her jaw tightened as she clenched her teeth together and struggled to slow her increasing breaths. Even if she managed to get Ivan in her bed, would he judge her inept, inadequate, and incapable?

  She bit her lower lip to stem the sting of tears. Did all of the Macska women experience the same doubts during their first fertility cycle? How on Earth would she survive the week until the third-quarter moon? “I’m not ready, Great Grandmother.”

  Her companion stopped on the next-to-last step to face her. “Nonsense, child. The Fates never give us challenges for which we are unprepared to cope. You became a true Macska witch today, and you will conquer your fears.”

  Suppressing the urge to deny the assertion and pout, Jolán nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.”

  They continued down the last two steps, going in opposite directions as Jolán headed to the kitchen. She savored the chill of the smooth, polished wood beneath her toes. Wearing light-colored, unbleached muslin skirts instead of the usual darker, earth-toned ones gave her some relief from the summer heat, but nothing beat cool feet on a ninety-degree day. Well, except a dip in the mermaid fountain after everyone retired for the night.

  Twelve hours before I can enjoy—

  No, she couldn’t. The camper was parked less than twenty feet from her midnight skinny-dipping spot. Phooey. Men ruin everything. Her hopes and dreams of finding her true mate. The level of satisfaction she could achieve with her toys. Her nightly trip to the refreshing fountain.

  Some birthday this is turning out to be.

  * * * *

  As much as he’d rather have stayed outside working on the new wing, Liam couldn’t risk insulting Romána by not sharing lunch with her family. She’d seated him across the table from the woman he’d screwed in a damn barn on a goddamn cot. Jolán. He hadn’t even asked her name before he’d succumbed to a giant case of horny.

  She has every right to be pissed at me. Why isn’t she?

  She smiled at Ivan, who sat next to her. It didn’t offer the same fuck-me quality she’d given Liam, but the sweet, shy lift of her lips sent a jolt to his balls and a stab of jealousy to his chest. Did she plan to have sex with his stepbrother?

  So what if she does? I don’t want a relationship. What does it matter who she sleeps with?

  Ivan leaned close to her as if whispering in her ear. The soft tinkling of her laughter carried across the table, and Liam’s stomach somersaulted a moment before his gut twisted. An image of her lying beneath Ivan while they rocked into each other had Liam squeezing his sandwich. Soft bread oozed from between his fingers.

  I’m not jealous. They can bump uglies until they both pass out. I don’t care.

  Nothing about Jolán was ugly, though, and he’d seen almost all of her. The luscious curves of her generous tits. Her toned thighs and calves. The dark curls covering her tasty pussy.

  He shifted to ease the pressure of his swelling cock against his zipper. Her pink tongue slipped out to lick a crumb from her lips, sending fire roaring through every cell in his body.

  Forcing his eyes to his plate, he took several slow breaths to ease the hardness in his dick so he could walk out of the dining room without limping or drawing attention to himself. Another bite of tasteless sandwich stuck in his throat. A drink of lemonade washed it down, but the tension stayed.

  With a final wipe of his napkin across his mouth, he pushed back his chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

  Romána nodded from the head of the table at his right. “Of course. Supper is at six o’clock.”

  He couldn’t imagine sitting through hundreds of meals with Jolán just out of reach and Ivan fawning over her, but he let a lie cover his aversion. “I look forward it. Thanks for lunch.”

  As he measured his pace toward the exit, the familiarity of Ivan’s voice stood out from the murmur of conversation. “I should go. My compliments to the cooks. Everything was delicious. Ma’am. Jolán.”

  Heavy footsteps followed Liam out of room and down the hall toward the rear entrance to the mansion. He didn’t slow, having no intention of giving Ivan an opening to take another jab at him. His stepbrother’s flirting had chewed a hole in his last nerve, and a knockdown, drag-out exchange of fists wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to piss him off even more. At this point, he wasn’t sure he gave a damn about losing the job, either.

  “Liam, wait up.” Ivan had quickened his pace to a jog from the padding of work boots on the hardwood floor.

  In no mood for anyone to overhear their conversation, Liam cut through the kitchen without turning around to acknowledge Ivan’s presence. The guy should’ve been a shrink, and he didn’t know when to mind his own fucking business.

  Liam twisted the knob to go outside, but a hand flattened on the door to hold it shut. “If you have something to say, do it while I’m working. Or, better yet, you can call about having the windows delivered next week.”

  “Fine, we’ll take it outside.” Ivan removed his hand. “Let’s go.”

  The easy acquiescence only signaled a brief postponement of the confrontation. Pulling the door open, Liam strode through the exit and followed the paving-stone walkway toward the work site. His eyes were drawn toward the barn as a bumble bee buzzed past him to land on a flower beside the path.

  He never should’ve agreed to bid on the project. According to Romána Macska, the retired schoolteacher who lived on the edge of town had recommended his and Ivan’s company. They’d repaired Mrs. Tremaine’s roof several times last winter when it really needed to be replaced. Telling her they were having a sale on installation had finally convinced her to let them put on a new one in the spring. That was nothing compared with the monster of a construction contract he was stuck with and the constant contact with Jolán he’d have to tolerate. She gave him a hard-on by existing.

  “You should ask her out.”

  Ivan’s statement had Liam pivoting to face his stepbrother. He tried a passive expression, one devoid of the panic sending his pulse hammering in his head. “Who?”

  Ivan snorted. “Like you don’t know who I’m talking
about. She’s a sweet girl, and she spent most of lunch sneaking looks at you.”

  “You’re so full of shit.” Liam smothered the hopeful spark in his gut. “She was too busy flirting with you to even notice I was at the table.”

  Propping his hands on his hips, Ivan grinned. “Ha! I knew you were jealous.”

  “Still full of shit.” The calm tone Liam had hoped for didn’t quite come through.

  “Jeez, you already slept with her. Ask her out. Jolán is nothing like Apryl, and it’s time to stop letting that shallow bitch ruin your life.”

  Struggling to keep his hands from clenching into fists, Liam started toward the extension ladder he’d leaned against the second-floor framing. A deep breath didn’t ease the knot in his stomach. “If Jolán’s so perfect, then why don’t you ask her out?”

  “Maybe I will.”

  The quick retort caught Liam off guard, and he coughed to cover the hesitation in his step. He shrugged. “Go for it.”

  * * * *

  His brother was an idiot. That was the only possible explanation for his behavior.

  Watching Liam climb the ladder, Ivan shook his head. No denial of having had sex with Jolán, but a stubborn refusal to admit the attraction. She’d been sending just as many mixed signals. When she hadn’t been glancing across the table at Liam, she’d been playing shy flirt with Ivan. Moving in on a woman his brother wanted wasn’t his style, even if he’d toyed with the idea. She was gorgeous, quick-witted, and a hell of a lot nicer than most of the girls he’d dated.

  Time for Plan B. If Liam thought Ivan should ask her out, he would. Sharing a picnic or inviting her to go dancing with him in the gardens was about as romantic as a date could get. When she gave him the friends talk and turned her cheek when he tried to kiss her, Liam would only know they’d spent an evening together. A bit of jealousy and a reality check ought to do the trick.

  Cupid had nothing on Ivan. Half a dozen couples he’d hooked up in the last two years were now married, and the other two had gotten engaged. By the end of the construction job, his brother and Jolán would be talking about weddings and babies. At twenty-four, Liam was ready to be a husband and father. Hell, he’d been ready at twenty. Unfortunately, Apryl had preyed on that fact until something better came along.

  As for Ivan, seeing the way his mom went through men, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to take the plunge. Stepdaddy number six had been shown the door last month. She’d be on the hunt for lucky seven before the ink was dry on the divorce decree.

  While he wasn’t opposed to exclusive dating or marriage, Ivan hadn’t met a woman he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. He wanted no part of a disposable commitment. If he said the vows, he planned to keep them. Finding a girl with the same attitude who wasn’t already taken could take a lifetime. Good thing he was a patient man.

  They may have grown up together, but he and Liam had different perspectives on relationships. Ivan’s eyes were wide open when it came to love. Unlike his stepbrother, he didn’t believe for a second that all women possessed his mother’s or Apryl’s shallow, selfish approach to relationships. The problem lay in crossing paths with his soul mate at the right time and under the right circumstances.

  Liam, on the other hand, had no intention of keeping an open mind. Ivan would have to pry at it with a devious plot, because contrary to the pair’s thoughts on the subject, Liam and Jolán were a match.

  Chapter 4

  Eying the drawer filled with lubes, vibrators, and dildos, Jolán frowned. Her fertility cycle had made a fool of her once today, and she wasn’t about to let it turn her into a sex-crazed, brain-dead sap. I’m an intelligent witch with the willpower to resist my own hormones.

  A self-induced orgasm wouldn’t calm the instinct to mate. Only the real thing could ease the need, and having sex with two different men in half a day’s time wasn’t happening. The mated women in the family had assured her that the drive to fuck was natural between the full and third-quarter moons. Part of being a Macska. The road to finding her true mate could bring unexpected twists and turns. Sometimes disappointment.

  I found that out all right.

  She clenched her fists and closed her eyes to keep from surrendering to the pull of the window overlooking Liam and Ivan’s trailer. Both men were most likely shirtless, their muscles bunching and flexing, shiny with sweat. Her imagination conjured up a vision of toned biceps, pectorals, and abdominals. She’d seen enough to remember the beauty of their strong male bodies.

  Her fingers itched to gather her skirt up to her thighs and slip between her pussy lips to find her clit. A quick thrust into her cunt as she plucked at her puckered nipples would appease the ache, but it would return with a vengeance as soon as she was in the same room with a potential mate.

  No. I won’t let it control me.

  A slow exhale did little in the struggle of mind over matter. She opened her eyes and allowed them to guide her to the bathroom. Running cool water in the sink, she splashed some on her face, tensing when a line of droplets dribbled down the valley between her breasts. A full body contraction had her reaching for the vanity to catch her balance. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her heart hammered in her chest. A cool breeze from the vent brushed over her skin, raising goose bumps on her arms and stealing the air from her lungs.

  I’ll never survive a week of this. Why didn’t anyone warn me?

  A knock on her apartment door made her jump. “Jolán?”

  She grasped the towel to dry her face and neck. “I’m in here.”

  Her cousin Ilona poked her head around the doorframe. “Which one are you going to choose? And how are you going to decide? They’re both so yummy!”

  A surge of blistering rage consumed Jolán. “Do you think you can have my leftovers? Well, you can’t. They’re mine! Both of them.”

  Ilona’s mouth flattened into a harsh line, and her eyebrows dipped toward her nose.

  Guilt washed away the jealousy as quickly as it had attacked. “Ilona, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I’m...Oh, Goddess, I wish I could lock myself in my room until my fertility cycle is over. I hate feeling this way. It isn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “What’s wrong? I thought the Fates led you to the right man, and you know, you had wild, passionate sex, and then you joined.” Ilona twisted a curl around her finger in her usual nervous gesture.

  Jolán rubbed at her forehead, hoping her growing headache would subside. “I can’t tell which of them is The One, or even if either of them could be. How am I supposed to know? I can’t think straight, and I ache all over. I just want it to be done.”

  Sinking to the floor, she drew her knees up to her chin. Actually, only one of the men could possibly be for her. Liam had made his lack of feelings for her perfectly clear. She meant nothing to him, not even enough to want to have sex with her again. Ivan had flirted with her, but he hadn’t shown any sexual interest.

  Ilona sat down beside her. “Have you talked to Great Grandmother about it? Maybe she can help.”

  Shaking her head, Jolán blew out an exhausted breath. “She said to let my body guide me, but the things it’s telling me are crazy.”

  “Like what? Not to choose?” Giving her shoulder a nudge, Ilona grinned. “What if you’re mated to both of them? Kata, Lujza, Rebeka, and Orsolya have two.”

  “Both?” The word stuck in Jolán’s throat. She groaned. “Oh, no. You have to be wrong.”

  Heat flooded her core as an image of Ivan and Liam connected to her from the front and the back seared itself on her brain. It can’t be true. The last four matings in the family had consisted of one witch and two men, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was fated for a joining of three. Impossible.

  Ilona raised her eyebrows. “But what if I’m right?”

  * * * *

  One hundred eighty-one days to go. Five hundred forty-four meals.

  Liam swallowed a growl. How the hell would he last six months on the project? Afte
r half a day and two meals at the Macska estate, he wanted to punch his stepbrother in the face for coming on to Jolán and haul her back to the barn for a second round of no-holds-barred fucking. On the cot, in the hayloft, up against a stall door.

  Why didn’t I keep my stupid mouth shut this morning?

  If his dick got any harder, he could use it for pounding nails instead of his hammer. Getting up from the dinner table wasn’t an option. He had to sit and watch the foreplay between her and Ivan. A light touch here. A lean in there. One of her hands disappeared under the table, and Liam held his breath until it returned to rest next to her plate—when he’d wanted to bend down to see whether she had rubbed her palm along his stepbrother’s thigh or zipper. Ivan’s slow smile hinted that it could easily be the latter.

  Son of a bitch.

  Romána’s voice brought silence to the group of fifty-something diners. “My dearest family, please join me in bestowing the greatest of blessings upon the children born today. Jolán, you are now a woman. Your life begins anew, just as the lives of our newest members.”

  Jesus, don’t tell me I screwed a barely legal eighteen-year-old. No, Jolán had to be at least twenty-one. Please.

  “We welcome Lujza’s daughter and son into our fold—to protect and nurture into adulthood. Blessings, my children.” The old woman raised her arms as if to present her legacy to the gathering.

  Liam followed the gazes of the diners to the gladiators who’d caught him leaving the barn. Each of the men held a tiny blanket-wrapped bundle, flanking a spike-haired woman with dark circles beneath her watchful eyes. She turned to the right, kissing the baby swaddled in pink before she smiled at the taller man. The look told Ivan that the guy with lighter hair had to be the father of her children.