No Simple Sacrifice

by Angel Payne

  We both slammed our eyes shut again. But Talia didn’t crawl back into bed. Through the haze of my lashes, I watched her slip into a short satin robe, then quietly pad out of the room. My ears damn near pricked up, keeping track of her soft steps on the bare floor down the hall, but eventually, she walked out of earshot.

  Fletch and I stared at each other again. We waited a few minutes, anticipating sounds confirming that she’d gone to the kitchen for water or a snack.

  Silence.

  With determined economy, I rolled out of bed. Slid into my underwear—then set out to find her.

  It’s not creepy if you just want to know she’s okay.

  It was also normal to keep track of one’s heart, when the woman who held it had left the room.

  And to want to comfort hers in return—if that was what she needed.

  I refrained—barely—from calling out to her. I stopped when I heard another woman’s voice, only to realize she was listening to a voicemail on her cell. It was likely the message that had come in earlier—when my face was buried in her pussy.

  Don’t go there, man.

  “Natalia, darling, it’s your Aunt Oksana. I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to tell you that I met a nice young man today. I think you’ll really like him. Milakha, he’s a doctor! I met him at the clinic where I volunteer. Anyway, I got his number, so call me and I can give it to you, and tell you all about him. Oh, and Talia, his family is from St. Petersburg! Isn’t that just perfect? Okay, call me please. I love you, dear.”

  Her shoulders sagged.

  The line clicked dead.

  My heart jammed into my throat.

  I let another pause go by, examining her posture…wishing like fuck that I possessed Fletch’s uncanny ability to just read her at a glance. My connection to her wasn’t such a direct line. It was the scenic route, filled with curves and hills and dips—but hell, the views were breathtaking.

  Right now, I wished I could take a breath. Auntie Oksana’s call had hit like a bucket of ice water. We’d never clearly asked Talia to stop dating. We’d never clarified anything except how we felt, meaning everything from her end was up in the air.

  Not acceptable.

  Not anymore.

  From the doorway, I cleared my throat. Tolly swung around, panic on her face, nearly dropping the phone.

  “Sorry.” My voice, rough and low, seemed to bounce off her little kitchen’s walls. The space was just like her, clean and classic, with a hint of old world evident in some framed needlepoint pieces near the refrigerator. “Didn’t mean to startle you…”

  Her lips thinned. “What are you doing up? I thought you were sleeping.” I pictured canary feathers floating from her mouth.

  “Bathroom,” I lied. The air thickened between us. “A doctor, huh?”

  She darkened the phone’s screen then set it down with a determined clump. “She’s just a silly old woman, Drake.”

  “Is she?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “But you don’t believe me, do you?”

  “Didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t need to.” She took a step toward me but stopped herself. I clenched back a frustrated growl but let the ire beneath it roll right out. That widened her eyes a little. And maybe that was a good thing.

  Fletcher stepped up beside me, taking up the other half of the doorway. He palmed the sleep-deprived grit from his eyes.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  “Nothing,” Talia blurted out before I could answer.

  “Now that’s not really true, is it?” Screw the patience. I was just pissed. Nothing. There she went again with that damn word. Nothing.

  “Actually, it is.” She approached again, her steps decidedly bolder, an obvious gain from Fletcher’s arrival. That was a good thing—or so I should’ve seen it. But I didn’t. As the poison of jealousy wound in deep, I wrapped myself in a cloak of tight composure.

  “Tolly?” Further justification for the cloak. As usual, Fletcher read her at once, knowing something was way off.

  Talia froze. Frantically looked from me to him. “I think we should all go back to bed. This isn’t the right time—”

  “This is the perfect time.” My clipped dictate held her there.

  “For what?” Vexation edged at Fletcher’s voice, too.

  “For getting this all out in the open.” I put physical action to it, striding across the kitchen. “Clearly, none of us is sleeping, anyway.” In front of the sink, I turned. “Might as well go for broke, right?”

  “About what?” Fletch demanded.

  Talia huffed. “I told you—”

  “Have you been seeing other guys, Talia?” I resisted, with every damn muscle in my body, the urge to brace my legs and fold my arms. But backing the growl with the pose would jump me from impatient to intolerable in one simple step. Dial it back a notch, Newland. Now. “Please,” I gritted. “Just level with us already. Have we been following you around like puppies, only to learn you’re dating other men while we’re out of town?”

  Fletcher fully entered the room now. With two hard stomps. “Excuse the fuck out of me?”

  “No.” Talia glowered at him, both hands on hips. “You’re not excused.” Then wheeled on me. “And you sure as hell aren’t. Drake Newland, now you’re making me mad.”

  Screw it. I hitched up, folding my arms, choking out a bitter laugh. “I’m making you mad? That’s rich.”

  “What? Little Tolly doesn’t get mad?” She popped out one hip, officially taking her pose to sexy-as-hell. God damn it. “Is that it? She doesn’t know what she wants or how to go about getting it? Is that how you see it, Mr. In-Control-of-Everything?”

  My arms fell. Damn. She was going for the jugular.

  “Okay, okay.” My peacemaker of a best friend moved in, smoothing the air with both hands. “Let’s settle down.”

  “Let’s not.” Talia’s glare dropped his hands too. “Let’s get this ‘out in the open,’ as the drill instructor has ordered.” Her hair gleamed in the light as she twisted her head back toward me. “So what exactly do you need to know, master? Hmmmm? How much I love the two of you? How scared I am of losing you both? Or the part about my family disowning me if they find out I’m shacking up with two men at the same time?”

  “Tolly,” Fletcher chided. “Seriously—”

  “You don’t think I’m serious? I am deadly fucking serious. Who does this?” She traced a wild triangle in the air, using the three of us as points. “Who. Does. This?”

  Fletcher opened his mouth. Her glare silenced him.

  I pulled in a long breath. Softly bade, “Natalia—”

  “Ohhhh, no.” She borrowed my vicious laugh. “No, no, no. Not ‘Natalia’. Don’t you dare.”

  “Natalia.” I clenched my jaw. Made sure she saw it. “Listen to me, before you hurl one more insult and regret it.” In one step, I planted myself in front of her, compelling her to meet my unwavering stare. “I love you. Fletcher loves you. We want you to be ours. Ours alone. To be our girlfriend—at least to start.” As her lips parted, letting out an astonished gasp, I ran the pad of my thumb across them. “We want to make a life with you. A full, happy, exciting life. So what do we do to make you realize it? Tell you that we’ll be here to help you deal with the initial consternation of your family?”

  She stumbled back, away from my touch, huddling her arms against herself. “Initial?”

  “Don’t they want to see you happy, sweetheart? To see you cared for?”

  “We can do that,” Fletcher interjected. “We want to do that.”

  She looked up with watery eyes and trembling lips. “And how exactly do you two see that happening? You live in Chicago—as in Illinois. That’s not a quick little jaunt down the freeway, gentlemen.”

  Fletcher stepped over. “There are ways to work through that, baby.”

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me.” She hurled it from between locked teeth. Twisted her arms tighter. “Ways to work through it? L
ike…what? You guys show up for your west coast booty call every other week? A scheduled blow job and fuck before you hop back on the plane to go play charming billionaires to your Chi-Town fan club? Can’t leave the groupies hanging, right?”

  “Stop.” Fletcher found a way to turn the command into something elegant, for which I was damn grateful. “You’re painting pictures that are uncalled for,” he went on. “Neither of us has so much looked at another woman since starting the SGC cosmetics project with you—six months ago. Six months, Talia—and not one woman. It’s just you now.” He pressed closer but didn’t reach for her. I saw that he yearned to, especially while declaring, “We. Are. In. Love. With. You. And we will find a way to make this work—but we need you to believe, too. Right now, you’re dooming us before we try.”

  She pursed her lips as she shoved a strand of hair behind one ear. Judging even that as progress, I stepped over as well. “Just answer one question, and we can go from there. Agreed?” Not as diplomatic, but I got the job done. She jerked her head in an equally brusque nod. That would have to do, as well. “Do you want us to simply stop calling you? To stop seeing you?” The sudden O of her mouth was encouraging but I pushed on, forcing the blunt truth out. She needed to hear it, all of it, spoken out loud. “We won’t come back—if that’s what you want. You can just go on like none of this ever happened. We’ll go back to Chicago and be out of your hair. This time, when you tell your girlfriends there’s nothing between us, it’ll be true.”

  Boom.

  It was probably below the belt. When the heavy moisture in her eyes spilled down her cheeks, it was confirmed. Yeah…below the belt. But necessary. And—holy God, please—worth it.

  “No!” Her tears flowed harder. “No. I need you, Drake. Fletcher? I need you both. Please!”

  “Then what’s the problem, baby?” Fletcher’s hands twitched again. He finally gave in, reaching toward her, but I tugged him back. Finally, we were getting the answers we needed. She was finally jumping off the cliff…opening up to us. It had taken the unfathomable—suggesting we actually go away for good—to bring her walls down. Sometimes, the most drastic strategy was the best.

  Or maybe not.

  Tears, I could take. But her open sobbing was like a carving knife to my chest. Then my gut.

  “I… I don’t know how to do this!” she cried. “Show me how to do this. I don’t know how to go against a lifetime of honoring my family. I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend to one guy, let alone two. My last relationship was…was…”

  “We know, sweet girl. We know.”

  She pushed out a hand at me—her version of flipping the bird. “You don’t know. Dammit, Drake, you don’t.” She lowered the hand, wrapping it around her stomach. “It was chaos, okay? Now, I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can’t bear the thought of losing you. But then I think about letting you both down…of not being good enough for you…”

  “Bullshit.”

  She went on as if Fletch never spat it. “I think about seeing the disgust and disappointment in your eyes, when you look at me the way Gavin did—”

  “Stop.” Fletcher’s voice rasped, pleading with her now. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “Please, Talia. Stop.” He spread his arms. “So you’re scared. So are we. Believe me”—he glanced at me for confirmation on his direction, and I nodded—“this is beyond anything we’ve ever felt before. But I’m sure about one thing. I’m completely in love with you and so is that man over there. So commit to us, sweetheart. Say you’ll try—and mean it. And don’t ever put the shit from Gavin on us. I can’t wait to have a face to face with that motherfucker.”

  I leaned over, obeying the passion to fist bump him. Fletcher was truly my other half. He said what I wanted to but lacked the finesse to articulate.

  But her tears continued to spill—and to break my heart. She was still so torn—meaning we had to prepare ourselves for the worst. She might not be ready to give us the answer we needed. If so, things couldn’t be repaired—or even move forward. For this to work, we all had to be on the same page. If we had any hope of proving her archaic family wrong, our bond had to be stronger than the one they’d built over a lifetime. I was willing to bust my ass for the chance—and my heart said it was possible—but I needed them on board with me.

  We stood in silence, gazes darting from one to the other to the other. The only sound was her sniffling. I would’ve offered her my handkerchief, but those were a little tough to tuck into boxer briefs.

  Just beyond the kitchen, in the overstuffed bookcase in the living room, I spotted a box of tissues. I swept a few out then walked over to her, coaxing her chin up with a couple of fingers underneath. In order to meet my gaze directly, she had to tilt that beautiful face all the way back. Damn. She was so tiny. So very precious.

  After gingerly dabbing her swollen eyes and flushed cheeks, I handed her the tissues so she could wipe her own nose. As she did, I bent my head, needing to see into her lush chocolate eyes. Even all weepy, she was so stunning. Little red nose, tear-streaked skin…hands down the most breathtaking woman I’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Well, sweetheart?” I uttered at last. “What’s it going to be? Are we all in—or all out?”

  Good time to be finished, since my breath stuck in my throat—while Fletch and I waited on her answer. Fuck. I was so afraid—and damn near certain—she was ready to cry uncle on the whole thing. On us.

  I didn’t know how I would get over this girl. I just couldn’t see my future without her in it. When I couldn’t sleep—a lot of the time we weren’t with her these days—I fantasized about taking her to the family ranch in Wyoming to meet Mom, Dad, Lizzie and Henry. Shit…the looks I’d get…before Tolly stole their hearts, of course. I never took women home to meet them. That part alone, would be monumental. Soon after that, she and Liz would be instant friends. Henry would blush to the roots of his hair, trying to hide his immediate crush. Dad would pull me to the side with congratulations on finally finding ‘the one.’ Mom would fuss and fawn, pushing glass after glass of her homemade peach tea.

  They would all know, the instant they saw us together, how serious I was about this woman.

  How completely right she was for me.

  I longed for that dream to come true. I needed it to.

  I needed her.

  Furrows formed between her eyebrows, as if she’d plucked that thought from my brain. “I…I want to try,” she confessed. “But—”

  “No.” I said it gently but firmly. “No more buts here, my love. Fletcher and I need to know, before we’re in any deeper.” As if there were any deeper. “Straight up, Tolly. Yes or no.”

  “Yes. But—” She flustered at my reprimanding—and pleading—stare. “Please, Drake. I’m giving you my word. My honor. It’s all I have. I do want to be yours.” She swung a glance to Fletcher, too. “Both of yours. I—I want to make this work. Us work. But”—her lower lip disappeared, victim to her gnashing teeth—“I’m terrified. I’ve never disobeyed my family. Ever.”

  I craved to comfort her. Clenched my arms, fighting it. Touching her would mean wanting her. Wanting her would mean lusting for her. And lusting for her only meant one thing—which wasn’t the goal right at the moment. “Did they approve of the ex-fucker?” I could almost predict the answer, which only added to the anger that bubbled every time I thought about that bastard. About him hurting her.

  “Yes. They set us up. They wanted me to marry him. They were furious and disappointed when I left him. So disappointed.” Her head dipped. “I let them down.”

  My muscles coiled, resisting the urge to act yet again. To jerk her head back up so I could stare into her eyes while demanding, “Did you tell them how he treated you?”

  Her head remained low, her silence comprising our answer.

  “That bullshit stops now.” I gave it little volume. My conviction did the job, loud and clear. “You will be our queen, Talia. Our number one priority. The world will be whatever you want
it to be. You call the shots.”

  She sighed. Her whole body sagged in exhaustion. “Really?” A fleck of the golden twinkle returned to her eyes.

  “Yes.” We answered in unhesitant unison.

  “Then can we please go lie down? I have a headache and I’m so tired.”

  “Yeah.” Fletcher curved a hand around her shoulders. “I can see that, baby.”

  Of course he did.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, flipping off the lights.

  “We can figure out the rest when we wake up, okay?”

  “Drake?” Her red-rimmed eyes lifted to me with hope.

  “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed. I’ll rub your back if you want.”

  “Oh, I’d like that.” She visibly melted a little. “Except—”

  “Except what? I thought you loved my hands.” I wasn’t completely faking the hurt in my voice.

  “I do. That’s the problem.” An adorable grin played at her lips. “We may not actually sleep, after all.”

  “Would that be all bad?” I matched her smile, letting anticipation stir my cock again.

  “No. I think that sounds perfect.” She stroked a beautiful hand along my jaw, cascading heat down my whole body. “I need to feel you near me. As close as possible.”

  I turned my head, pressing my lips into her palm. “Pretty sure that can be arranged.”

  The three of us walked down the hall, hand in hand in hand. In her room, I smoothed the sheets on the rumpled bed and she climbed in, her sexy ass sticking out from beneath that little robe. My breath hitched in tandem with Fletcher’s. The woman’s backside was perfect enough for a lingerie runway—as if we’d ever let the rest of the world know that fact. Possessiveness clutched me, raw and hot, as I watched her sway those gorgeous globes for us.

  A dark sound prowled up my throat. “Young lady…it doesn’t appear you’re wearing any panties.”

  She giggled softly. “Hmmm. So it would appear.”

  I palmed the hardness between my thighs. Fletcher mirrored the action.

  “So, what happened to them?” I asked in a low voice.

  She pushed her ass up even higher. The robe obeyed gravity, sliding toward her waist. “A sinful, sexy man freed me from them. But, damn…I think I forgot to thank him.”