Luscious Beginnings [Love in Luscious, Kansas 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove)

by Mia Ashlinn

  Brett gasped. Oh shit. He hadn’t thought what his lascivious attack would look like to Ethan. I’m a bastard. Assailed by guilt, he squeezed Ethan’s hand. “I’m sorry. I lost control when I kissed you. I didn’t think about how it might look to you.”

  “I know,” Ethan replied softly, returning Brett’s squeeze. “It just took that letter to make me see how you feel.” His eyes shone with love when he gazed at Brett. “It made me see how I feel. Or at least, it made me admit it to myself.”

  Brett had struggled to write the note he’d left for Ethan. It was hard to say what he felt, harder than he’d imagined. But he’d done it. He’d said everything he’d ever wanted to.

  E,

  Sam’s in Luscious. And I’m going after him. I know he may or may not want me the way that I want him. But that doesn’t matter because I need him in my life—whether it’s just as friends or as lifelong lovers. If you feel the same way about Sam, if you still want me, I’ll be there, waiting for you at The Book Nook until six o’clock tonight.

  I know it’s probably not the best time to say this, but I love you. I want to be with you, to be yours forever. God, I’ve always loved you, Ethan. I’ve just been too scared to admit it to myself. I think deep down I knew if I did, we would end up here, facing a decision that could forever alter our futures and being forced to decide between what we’ve dreamed of and what we’ve hoped for and each other. That scared me—not for my sake, but for yours.

  See, I know I want you more than anything. I have no doubts about giving up a wife, two point five children, and a dog—as long as I get you. But that’s me. That’s not you.

  I don’t want you to lose your dreams of a family to be with me. But it is my hope that you’ll realize I’m your dream. I’m your family. Just like I hope you’ll realize the same thing about Sam. Because the only dream I have now is to be with you and Sam. And I know we can’t get legally married in Kansas or have children. But I will love you from now until the day I die. And in my heart, you’re my partner and my family, not a mere friend with benefits, and you always will be.

  So please, come and give me a chance. Let us begin again in Luscious with Sam. This time, things will be different. It’ll work out because we’ll make sure of it.

  All my love,

  Brett

  Just remembering what he’d said caused a blush to stain Brett’s cheeks and his heart to race. He wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely kind of guy with most people. Hell, he’d had friends tell him he was a cold-blooded bastard. But with Ethan and Sam, he was different. They gave him a reason and a chance to be the loving man he wanted to be.

  The silence between Brett and Ethan stretched out, and the longer they sat there, the more nervous Brett became. He had a question, one he was dying to ask, but the words kept sticking in his throat. Man up, Brett. You can do it.

  “How do you feel?” Brett blurted out, swallowing hard.

  Ethan grinned. “I would think my being here says it all.”

  Not batting an eye, Brett replied, “I want to hear you say it.” He riveted his pleading gaze on Ethan. “Please tell me.”

  Ethan released Brett’s hand, and Brett frowned. But his anxiety was short-lived. When Ethan lifted up enough to lean across the table, Brett felt the love radiating off his lover’s body, and he felt like he could explode from relief.

  As Ethan moved in close, he said, “I love you. I love you. I love you…” He kept repeating the poignant words until Brett could feel the warmth of Ethan’s breath against his lips. “I love you,” he repeated one last time before brushing their mouths together sweetly.

  And Brett’s heart sang. “I love you, too.”

  “I know,” Ethan countered a second before he fully kissed Brett in front of everyone in The Book Nook.

  For a split second, Brett didn’t know what to do. He felt flustered, and his cheeks burned. He’d never been kissed by Ethan in public. Hell, he’d never kissed Ethan where someone might see, either. But it felt good, so damn good to be out and open. Now all Brett had to do was show Sam that love could feel this good, whether he was gay, straight, or bi. He had to convince him that love was love. And what the three of them felt for each other was love, even if not all of them was ready to admit it. But Brett was patient. And he had a feeling Ethan would be, too.

  Chapter 7

  A clearing of someone’s throat caught Brett off guard. He quickly pulled away while Ethan plopped back down in the booth’s bench seat. Then he rotated his head to the right and frowned at the intruder. “Yes?” he inquired, his voice flat and not all that friendly as he eyed the big blond man with bright blue eyes who’d served him his first cup of coffee a little while ago. “Did you need something, Rylan?”

  “Yes, I do.” The Book Nook’s server deposited something paper-like near the edge of the table then covered it with his palm. With a cheeky grin, he slid his hand across the hardwood and whispered, “Donna asked me to give you this right before she left a minute ago.”

  Confused, Brett stared at the napkin on the table as though he had X-ray vision and could see what it said on the other side. After a second, curiosity set in, and he flipped over the flimsy paper. When he saw the scribbled writing, he chuckled.

  Tate Dawson

  755 Hope Street

  Apartment D4

  369-1969

  “What does it say?” Ethan demanded before grabbing the napkin from Brett’s hand. Luckily, Brett anticipated his lover’s response, so he released the paper before it tore in two.

  “Looks like we have a helper.” Brett smiled and rubbed his hands together.

  “More like a baker’s dozen,” Rylan muttered. “Around here, there’s nothing we enjoy more than helping men and women find love in each other’s arms.” His teeth sparkled in the light as he smiled broadly. “And from what I hear, you guys have another dozen or so from our neighboring towns. The people in Kinky and Serenity are rooting for you, too.”

  God, Brett loved this crazy little town, and he’d only been here a few hours. If things kept moving at this pace, he might never want to leave. And that’s bad because…

  It wasn’t bad. Apparently, Ethan agreed. “We need to get moving. The faster we get our man, the faster we can find a place to live here.”

  Joy bubbled inside Brett, and he smiled from ear-to-ear. “Sounds like a plan, but I want a house with a fence.”

  * * * *

  A knock at the front door startled Sam, and he lurched upright from his supine position on the couch like a human jack-in-the-box. Taking a quick peek around the living room, he searched for Tate. When he couldn’t find his friend, he hollered, “I’m coming.” Then he hauled his tired ass up and trudged across the room.

  With a yawn, Sam peered through the tiny peephole. He instantly recognized Donna Dawson standing in the hallway wearing a dazzling smile. She had a bag from The Book Nook in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Tate. Sam. I’m not getting any younger here. Open up.” He could see her impatient toe-tapping as she waited for him or her son to let her in.

  Following the request of Tate’s mom, Sam moved a little faster as he flipped the lock then swung the door open and greeted Donna with a friendly smile. “What a nice surprise, my dear. Have you come here to steal me into the night? If so, let me grab my spare toothbrush and a box of condoms. Those are my essentials.”

  Donna rolled her eyes, but Sam could see her fighting to suppress the smile tilting the corners of her lips up. “Oh, honey, my darling husband struggles to keep up with me, and we’ve been married since we were nineteen. I don’t think your young heart could take it.”

  Sam slapped his palm to his chest theatrically and fell back a step. “I’m wounded you have so little faith in me, doll face.”

  Donna tsked him. “Now, now, Sam. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.”

  “Wow,” he gasped. “That sounds an awful lot like the worst break up line ever.”

  Tate’s mom gave up the fight, and her smil
e broke through. “Don’t be hurt, Sam. I just…need more from a man.”

  Sam should probably be offended. But he wasn’t. “Oh really? What more could you need? I’m pretty to look at, and I have a brain. That’s usually what a woman looks for in a boy toy.”

  Her face sobered. He couldn’t tell if her sudden mood shift was serious or if she was still messing around. “I need love, and you’re a taken man. And sadly, you don’t even realize it.”

  Well, all right then. I guess I asked for that one. “Ah, so a warm, willing body isn’t enough?”

  “No,” she declined. “I want the whole package.”

  Sam didn’t particularly like the mischievous sparkle that lit Donna’s eyes. The entire Dawson clan got it when all hell was about to break loose. Uh-oh.

  “Well,” Sam drawled, attempting to change the subject. “I guess if I’m not good enough for you, I’ll have to find some other sexy someone to satisfy my needs.”

  Donna ignored him. “Can I come in, or are you going to make me wait out here all night?”

  “You just turned me down,” he teased as he widened the door and stepped aside. “But I guess I’ll let you in. I could use some pretty company.”

  Donna strolled in like she always did—as though she owned the place and not her youngest son. “Where’s Tate?” she asked, looking around.

  “I think he’s in the shower,” Sam replied as he spun to face Donna head-on. “He said he needed to clean up for a date or something.” He strained to hear running water, and it didn’t take long before he did. Well, he heard running water and a baritone voice butchering Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida.” “Yeah, I can hear him now.”

  Donna chuckled. “I can, too.” She shoved the bag of what was sure to be baked goodies and the cup of coffee into his hands then lowered her voice to a whisper, “Unfortunately.”

  Before she’d even finished, Sam was cackling. “You’re so bad,” he scolded teasingly between sharp laughs. “Tate can’t help he writes a hell of a song but can’t carry a tune to save his life.”

  Donna shrugged with an “Eh.”

  Sam moved to follow behind Donna, but he couldn’t shut the front door with his hands full. He had to shuffle the items around to have a free hand. When he couldn’t arrange the stuff easily enough, he used his bare foot to nudge the door closed. Only he never heard the snick of the door latching. Instead, he heard the deep rumble of a voice he’d know anywhere. “Mrs. Dawson doesn’t have the corner market on being bad, Sam.”

  Sam automatically stiffened. Brett.

  “If you ask me, Donna’s a saint compared to our Sam here.”

  Silently, Sam swore. Ethan.

  In shock, Sam felt the cup of coffee and bag of goodies slipping from his suddenly inoperative hands. He didn’t attempt to save either of them. His mind was too occupied by the oh shits running rampant through his brain waves to do anything but stand there, mutely, like a statue carved from stone.

  The bag dropped to the floor a second later. The soft thump was followed by a splat as the paper cup landed a foot away. Immediately after the collision of cup to carpet, the lid popped off and, with a splash, piping hot coffee went everywhere.

  Sam’s instincts swiftly kicked in, and he jerked aside, moving out of the path of steaming liquid. Still, some of the coffee managed to slop onto his pant leg while the rest spilled on the carpet next to him.

  “Oh,” Donna gasped. “I’ll get some water and towels.”

  As Donna ducked into the kitchen, Tate appeared in the hall’s entryway on the opposite side of the room. His bare-chested roommate was too busy toweling his hair dry to notice Sam was no longer alone. “Hey, sexy, I hope you’re well rested after that nap because I’m red-hot and ready for you,” he whispered in a voice as sultry as a sizzling summer night, completely oblivious to the tension clogging the room.

  When Tate tugged the towel he was using off his head and looked Sam’s way, his roguish smile faded. Everything about him seemed to go rigid. His nearly nude body and his wicked green eyes stilled. “U–u–h,” he stammered as he dropped his gaze to the teeny towel riding low on his hips. A tell-tale blush reddened his cheeks. “I, u–m, was….”

  Trailing off, Tate’s frantic eyes flew to Sam. He raked his gaze over him then grimaced. “It’s not what it looks like. I swear.”

  Lost, Sam cocked his head to the side. Why was Tate panicking? Sure, it was an awkward moment. But they were grown men, and they’d done nothing wrong. Right? One guy napping while his roommate took a shower hardly constituted a crime in Sam’s opinion.

  Besides, Brett and Ethan fucked each other all the time. What was wrong with him getting a little action from a friend—hypothetically, of course? Not a damn thing. Well then, why did he feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar?

  Sam refused to allow his mind to go there. “Tate was taking a shower,” he said, sounding extremely defensive, as he glanced over his shoulder.

  Oh. Shit. Now Sam saw why Tate was freaking out. Brett and Ethan looked ready to kill.

  Under normal circumstance, Brett was big and intimidating. But at the moment, his badass best friend was downright terrifying. Hell, Sam was practically shaking in his proverbial boots from just looking at the man. Brett’s nostrils were flared wide, and his eyes blazed with unbridled rage as he glared hostilely at Tate. His jaw was ticking as he clearly fought to control his infamous black temper.

  Next to him, Ethan wasn’t much better. His handsome face was twisted, his complexion nearly purple in color. He looked like he was choking on something, something extremely large and strangely shaped. And he kept swallowing visibly, yet his outraged expression never changed. If anything, he seemed to grow worse with each second that ticked by.

  Eyeing Brett and then Ethan again, Sam felt compelled to protect Tate. His hapless roommate had no chance against these two on an ordinary day. But when they looked like bulls and Tate was the red cape, Sam knew his roommate was dead meat.

  Before Sam could diffuse the intense moment, Donna barreled into the room with a plastic pitcher of water and a handful of kitchen towels. “Oh crap,” she said as soon as she caught sight of Tate, Sam, Brett, and Ethan. “I need to…go.”

  Without another word, Donna hightailed it through the living room. She paused long enough to toss a couple of towels over the spilled coffee. Then she squeezed between Brett and Ethan and shot out the door like her pants were on fire. She didn’t even set down the water pitcher in her hand. She was just gone.

  Sam considered following behind Donna. If he weren’t concerned for the safety and well-being of Tate, he would have. And he wasn’t the only one ready to abandon ship. A still half-naked Tate was staring at the door with longing clouding his leaf green eyes. Then he seemed to snap out of it. “I think I’ll go”—he cleared his throat noisily—“and get dressed.”

  “You do that,” Brett clipped out. Sam could hear the grinding of his best friend’s teeth as he spoke the rancor-infused words.

  Not surprisingly, Tate didn’t stick around. Like his mother earlier, he was there one second and gone the next.

  When they were alone, Sam’s mind blanked out. He couldn’t come up with a damn thing to say, and he definitely was at a loss for what to do. In the past, he could have talked his way out of pretty much anything. And he had. But as he stood there dumbly, he was pretty sure he was screwed. Not in the nice way, either.

  A self-deprecating laugh bubbled in the back of Sam’s throat. He felt like one of those actors in the old sitcoms where he’d gotten himself into a scenario he just couldn’t get out of, no matter what he did or said. And if reality truly matched the television show, he would only make things worse with time. Looking back, he’d always laughed at those shows and mimicked them. But now that it was him, he wasn’t nearly as amused. Hell, humor was the last thing on his mind when he choked out, “Come on in.” He coughed nervously. “Sit down.”

  Sam didn’t wait to find out if Brett and Ethan followed
him inside. He knew they’d come in behind him. If they’d traveled here, they weren’t likely to just turn around and leave. They’d obviously had a reason for being here. All Sam had to do was find out what it was. Then they’d go, and he could continue living his new life. Right. That’s what he would do… Not.

  As expected, Brett was on Sam’s heels. And after shutting the front door, Ethan was not far behind.

  Sam strode over to the chair he’d practically made his own. He didn’t sit there because the beige chair was comfy. Although, it was. No, he sat there so he’d have as much personal space as humanly possible. Shit, if he’d had the option, he would have sat in the far corner on the floor. But since that would give away too much, he fell into his favorite chair with a grunt.

  Across from him, Brett and Ethan both dropped down on the matching couch. Sam couldn’t miss how close the two sat. They were practically on top of each other’s laps.

  Sam internally slapped his jealous thoughts away. The two men were sitting side-by-side with their bodies touching from shoulders to feet. But Sam realized he was overdramatizing it a bit. His imagination was getting the best of him. Or worse, his memory was.

  Sam blinked. And he blinked again. But he was no longer in Tate’s apartment with Brett and Ethan. No, he was lost in time.

  * * * *

  Four and a half months ago…

  As Sam lay in his giant bed with his eyes closed, he counted imaginary black sheep with numbers from zero to sixty-nine painted on their side. He watched as one after another of the little troublemakers jumped over the fence that should be too tall yet by some miracle wasn’t. When he saw the last sheep land on the other side and disappear into the moonlit night, he expelled a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and fluttered his eyes open.