by Liz Crowe
Clearing his throat, he excused himself behind the bar. His damn cock was rock hard at the sight of her. But more alarming was the ache in his heart. He knew he loved her. And owed it to her to come out and say it. But after that scene in the office, he knew that Austin loved her just as much, still. And he had no idea what to do about any of it.
“Hey, Ross!”
He nodded a greeting and got pulled into yet another beer conversation. Usually his favorite topic without a doubt—but not today. He glanced across the room and locked eyes with Evelyn before she glanced away.
He caught Melody Rodriguez staring at him, her intense, Latina glare like a physical knife at his temples. As if she had room to judge. Last he’d heard, she’d left Trent Hettinger, the perfectly nice dude who owned a bunch of successful liquor stores and just opened a hot new beer bar in Kalamazoo, high and fucking dry, the bitch.
Goddamned women.
He shook his head and forced himself to focus on the crowd who’d paid perfectly good money to come here and listen to him run his mouth.
Evelyn tried like hell to avoid Ross. She knew she had to keep her distance, that he deserved her cold shoulder for trying to force her and Austin’s confrontation. But found herself drawn to him like a magnet, requiring his presence to soothe her rattled psyche. By the time the last table had been cleared, they sat shoulder to shoulder at the bar, sharing coffee. He had a finger of one-hundred-year-old Scotch in a glass in front of him and had made a huge deal out of not pouring her one.
“God, my throat is killing me.” Her face flushed when she realized her clumsy use of words. “Oh hell, you know what I mean.” She put her head on Ross’ shoulder.
She shouldn’t be this comfortable with him. The man remained utterly incapable of giving her anything but his body. But their usual familiarity came with a new undercurrent of awkward she didn’t have the energy to deal with tonight. She needed him as a friend, perhaps as a lover, but mostly as a companion—the man who was helping her save the brewery from Austin’s forced neglect. The man who’d be with her through her pregnancy, delivery, beyond. The thought of losing that made her nearly blind with terror.
“Relax.” Ross put an arm around her and his lips hit her ear, his German accent doing its usual number on her libido. She clenched her thighs together.
“How do you know I’m not?” She leaned away from him, until he pulled her close again.
“Because you never change.” He heaved a huge sigh. “I’m sorry Austin’s mother and Valerie did that to you, but you know he’s right.”
He bit her earlobe as if he were seducing her and not saying things she didn’t want to hear. Of course he was right. Austin was always right. And she’d let that very chip on her shoulder grow to such proportions it had become an insurmountable wall between her and the man she loved.
“Okay, lovebirds, I think this puppy is ready to shut down for the night,” Melody said as she grabbed Ross’ glass and drained it for him. “Behave.”
“Wait, don’t go yet,” Evelyn said. But her friend looked wrung out, so exhausted she might pass out behind the bar. “You all right?”
“Fuck no, I’m not and you know it.” Melody leaned her elbows on the bar’s slate top and grabbed Evelyn’s arm in one hand and Ross’ in the other. “You guys need to get your shit together. The company can’t withstand all the drama in the front office.” She muttered something in Spanish, then tightened her grip on them. “Get Austin back. I’m pretty sure between you, you can manage that? Jesu,” she said.
“I’m pregnant…too,” Evelyn admitted, her voice small and helpless sounding. Ross did a double take, realizing what she’d just revealed about Melody.
“Well, shit, we can do Lamaze together then, I guess. Now get off your collective asses and get Austin Fitzgerald back here where he belongs.” She gave them both light smacks on their cheeks before stomping away, muttering a mile a minute in her native language.
“Well, I guess she told us,” Ross said mildly, as he poured himself another splash of amber liquor.
If it were any other day, any other night than the one where she’d been confronted with such a shitty reality, she knew she and Ross would be heading back to her house, no questions asked. But now, she had no idea what to do or say around him.
She would have the baby. Of that there was no doubt. But did she want to be married to Ross Hoffman? Her doubts and second-guessing about that for the past few hours had made her even dizzier than the pregnancy.
She put her palm on his thigh, felt the muscles bunched there, and tried not to squeeze, to encourage like she normally would. He scooted forward, the way he had when they’d connected in Denver last year, bringing his crotch closer to her touch.
Her heart ached and her eyes burned with the memory of the two men together. She had to release him. He had to go, back to the west coast, or Germany, or someplace and live the life he deserved. The one that did not involve her, her wounded heart, and her messy mistakes. But her body kept clamoring for him in a familiar, not-to-be-ignored way.
She leaned into his ear and whispered a set of words for the final time. “I’m going to my office. Need to wrap some stuff up.”
It was a code they shared. ‘Going to my office’ from her lips usually meant ‘get up here and fuck me’ to his body. And today had been no exception. Ross had no reason to think the fantasies dancing around in his head since she’d revealed her pregnancy had any hope of seeing the light of real day. He, Austin and Evelyn, back together, the images would—should—remain that. Fantasy.
The fantasy of a home with them in it, with a child—their child—growing up safe and loved by the three of them. Ross was nothing if not fully cognizant of his own failings. He didn’t feel in any way equipped to be a husband and father, not the sort Evelyn deserved. No, she and Austin had to be together, a married couple. But for the first time he allowed himself a space in that future—one of beloved uncle, Fitzgerald master brewer, friend to two of the most incredible people in the universe.
But from a distance from now. His time as Evelyn’s lover was over.
He watched her go, admiring for the millionth time the sway of her hips, the way her long hair swept her shoulders. He licked his lips, knocked back the booze, and leapt off the bar stool.
He smiled, remembering the first time she’d used the code. He’d been outside in the hall, studying the expansion blueprints when she’d looked out of her door, crooked a finger and beckoned him inside. She had been gloriously naked behind the door and he’d fucked her over the desk, twice, as the brewery had shut down for the night under their gaze.
Dear God, she was insatiable. And he adored that about her. Among other things—like her voice, her smile, and her passion for the business he held dear.
And now? They were at a major turning point, to put it mildly. The moment Austin had confronted her and she had broken her news, the flash of realization about what he wanted then had terrified him. And damned if he wasn’t frozen to the spot, unsure how to proceed, until he heard the words, I’m going up to my office.
He grabbed his phone and tapped out one of the hardest messages of his life to Austin. “She’s upstairs. This is your last chance.” With a sigh, he poured more whiskey and stared into the darkened bar. “She’s all yours, my friend,” he said to no one, but of course to Austin. “Don’t screw it up this time.”
He was already planning where he might land next.
Chapter Thirty-One
Evelyn shuffled papers around, pretending not to listen for the sound of Ross’ work boots on the metal stairs. She had used their code on purpose. And planned to give him what they both wanted—a perfect physical release.
Before she released him completely.
Her body thrummed with a strange energy. Her brain kept up the loop of Ross and Austin—Austin and Ross—she’d seen on the brewery floor. Unwilling to admit exactly how that had affected her, she sat down before the turmoil of the situation she found herself
in became too overwhelming to contemplate any longer.
She’d had everything once. And now? She’d thrown a perfectly good life away with both hands, with the sort of childish energy Austin had finally called her on.
And now, she had another set of responsibilities looming—the most important kind. The kind that meant more than running any brewery ever would. She put a hand on her flat stomach and closed her eyes, focusing on that future and how she’d forge it alone, with no one but her child, because that was simply how it had to be now.
“We can do Lamaze together,” her friend Melody had said. Evelyn set her jaw against the tears.
When her computer’s soft incoming message ding hit her ears, she glanced at the screen, unwilling to engage in work but unable to not check and see what required her attention. As she took in the sender and the subject line, she gasped and sat up, mouth hanging open in shock.
BFitz@gmail had sent a message.
Coming home, was the subject.
Hi, Evelyn, I’m Brock, Austin’s brother. I’m guessing you’ve heard about me. I wanted to let you know that I’m headed home this week and was hoping we could talk about a position for me at the brewery. This is pretty weird, I know, considering I don’t know exactly what he’s told you about me, but I promise to clear it all up when we meet. I’ll be in on Saturday and can be at the brewery around noon. I hope to hear from you. I understand that you’re the one in charge there, since Austin took over our father’s company. He’s a dumb ass for doing that, but that’s just my humble, prodigal son-style opinion.
Sincerely,
Brock Fitzgerald.
Holy shit.
Brock.
The brother Austin was convinced had either OD’d in some heroin den or jumped off a bridge—anything but this. The six-year-long stretch of remaining hidden and silent, letting his family think that about him made her furious at the man, then relieved, then terrified at the fact that he’d reached out to her for a meeting.
When she met Austin’s deep green eyes she truly wasn’t surprised. She closed the laptop, took a deep breath, and nodded at him.
“Um, Evelyn, we need to talk.”
“You think?” She crossed her legs, kept her gaze on his face.
“Yeah, I do.” He parked himself against the work top, arms crossed. Her body tingled. And his proximity did not help.
He ran a shaking hand down his face and she noticed for the first time how gaunt he was. His jeans and button-down shirt hung on him. Relief and sadness poured off him in nearly visible waves. Unable to resist, she walked to him and put a hand alongside his face. He grabbed it and pulled her close so fast she yelped. “Thank God,” he muttered into her hair.
She disentangled herself, uncomfortable with how much she wanted him back. Convinced she could live without him, she’d returned to this job, jumped into bed with Ross and had come close to even dumping him in an attempt to regain some control over her life. Even as she faced an even scarier set of circumstances, thanks to her inability to be consistent with condoms.
Austin put his hands in his pockets but stayed slumped against the work table. “I’m such a mess.” He shrugged. “Sorry. I won’t bother you again.” He rose and walked straight into her personal space, pulling her close. “After one more kiss.”
Before she could protest, he slanted his lips over hers and the familiarity of his body made her gasp and nearly faint. He held her tightly, parted her lips, slid his hands down her back and she met him halfway in a tongue-tangling, teeth-clicking urgency that made every inch of her skin burn with need.
The need for his flesh against hers, to regain the intense connection they’d shared, made her pull her lips away and yank his shirt open, sending buttons flying around the room. “That’s not gonna cut it for me, Austin,” she said, lust making her voice low and rough.
He grinned and her entire world shifted back into focus at the sight of it.
“Good. Me neither.” He yanked her close again, shoving her skirt up. But he stared at her, put his other hand to her cheek. “I’m not interested in some kind of mercy fuck, Evelyn. So, don’t kid yourself. We do this and all bets are off.”
Her scalp tingled at his words. “No mercy about it, Fitzgerald,” she whispered as she slid his zipper down.
Austin had never felt more complete the moment his lips touched hers. Although he’d convinced himself to stay away, to leave Evelyn and Ross to their own lives, especially in light of the pregnancy news, in the end he’d let his heart lead. He had to. He’d wasted too much time in his life listening to the practical voices in his head. It had denied him the happiness he’d found with her, and with Ross, and he was done with that. Even if she rejected him again, he had to try once more.
And now, this split second of time, between the Should I kiss her? and the Hell yes, what are you waiting for? he felt like his old self again. The happy Austin, the one who’d owned and run a brewery with the woman he loved by his side and with an amazing third in their lives. Ross, with his passionate, artistic, temperamental nature, who’d completed them like the most perfect puzzle piece in the universe.
He sighed into her neck and yanked her shirt over her head as he maneuvered them over to the large desk where they’d done this very thing so many times.
She tasted different to him, richer somehow, and he groaned against her nipple at the realization of why as she leaned back on the desk’s surface, propping one heel-clad shoe on the chair. He had not had sex for months, after explaining not too kindly to Valerie that she could dream on about getting anywhere near him. She’d cried, fumed, pouted and called his mother.
Which had convinced him he was right to tell her exactly that.
But the lack of outlet for a guy used to getting laid on a regular basis made him pant and grunt when she fisted his cock. “It’s not gonna take long for me, baby. I’m sorry. Oh, God,” he moaned when she yanked up his undershirt.
“No, I’m sorry, Austin,” she whispered between kisses as he slid into the perfect glove of her body in a long, deep stroke, making them both sigh with satisfaction at the same time. “I’m so sorry for not loving you like you deserved.”
He thrust in deeper, his brain on fire. She gripped his shoulders and bent one leg up against his chest, giving him an even better angle. Her voice coiled around in his brain like smoke. “I love you, Austin. I never stopped loving you and I should have trusted you. I… Oh, yes,” she hissed as he pounded into her hard, nearly blind with it, and the climax roared up his spine, exploding across his vision. Now he knew why they called it fireworks.
“I’m gonna…” he grunted, his knees getting wobbly as every drop of blood he had filled his cock, making it even harder as the entire world narrowed to the two of them.
“Austin!” she whispered and the glorious pulse of her orgasm grabbed his cock milked him toward his own monster release.
He shuddered, cried out, and the last weeks and months of misery dissipated like sun-struck fog. He shivered as his body released into hers, seemingly forever. She held on to him as tears slicked her face and he kissed and kissed her, laying his mark on her, knowing he would never let her go.
The sound and feel of her breath on his skin made him shiver. He kept his hands on her thighs, unwilling to stop touching her for any reason even after he pulled out of her body. She ran her hands down his chest, back up, cupped his face, her brilliant blue eyes full of meaning. “I mean it,” she said. “I am sorry. You deserve so much better than me.”
He zipped himself up, then helped her put her shirt back on and straighten the skirt she’d not even removed. Then kissed her once more, thinking he would never get enough of her lips. “Evelyn,” he whispered around her skin. “I need to ask you something.”
She stiffened, but he kept going. He had to, or he’d be lost forever.
“Evelyn, will you please—”
He stood, his ruined shirt in a puddle at his feet, arms crossed, watching her try to avoid his eyes. He grabb
ed her arms and pushed her up against the wall, propping his hands on either side of her head. “Evelyn. Will you put this back on?” He pulled her engagement ring from his pocket. She smiled and slid it on her finger. “And will you please never, ever leave me?” He ran a thumb over her trembling lower lip and smiled when she shook her head.
A noise from the doorway made them both turn their heads. Austin smiled and held out a hand for Ross.
“That is to say, will you never leave us?”
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Feint and Misdirection
Helena Maeve
Excerpt
Chapter One
Imogen contemplated whipping out her phone to check the time. If anyone saw—if the bride saw—she’d never hear the end of it. The tux had already raised a few eyebrows, but most of the guests had seemed content to chalk it up to eccentricity and moved on. Only Imogen’s mother had pursed her lips tightly and said “how nice”, in the kind of voice that implied the reverse.
She was striding toward Imogen now, a slice of wedding cake in one hand and her indignation clasped firmly in the other. It would’ve been too much to ask that she leave it at that.
Imogen cast about for an escape—or failing that, a glass of liquid courage. Finding none, she dug her oxfords into the ground and smiled with false cheer. “Good cake?”
“The icing is runny and the sponge is too sweet,” her mother said, reverting to Vietnamese as she often did when criticism was forthcoming. She was all about saving face, if not necessarily Imogen’s. “You didn’t bring a date?”
This was well-trodden territory. Mrs Dao had begun with casual hints, veered into outright insistence and had finally reached the stage of constant harping, which explained why Imogen hadn’t seen her parents in months.
