Ray, Helena - A Bride for Two Roughnecks [Male Order, Texas] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Helena Ray

  “Hey.” Tristan’s voice demanded her attention. “Don’t be like this. We need to know what’s going on.” Alexis felt a tear trickle down the side of her cheek.

  “It’s just…” She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t tell them how ashamed she felt.

  “You can trust us, Alexis.” Jeremiah’s voice held none of the darkness and hunger it had earlier. “I know we just met, but…” He took a deep breath. “You’re not just any girl Tris met in a bar.”

  She laughed a little at Jeremiah’s statement, and the feeling loosened the tightness clenching around her heart.

  “I was a virgin. And now I’ve been with two men within twenty-four hours.” She looked up to see both of them staring at her with open, caring expressions. “Excuse me if I’m a little overwhelmed. Everything’s just happening so…fast.”

  “It’s fast for us, too, baby.” Tristan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up to sit on his lap. “I don’t want to scare you, but this is all brand new.” He looked toward Jeremiah. “Not just sharing you, but falling for you.”

  Falling for her? They were falling for her? Her heart began a joyous dance at the idea that these two incredible men could be falling for her, of all girls. She could only smile in response, not yet brave enough to look either man in the eye.

  “You’re an incredible woman.” Jeremiah petted her hair as he spoke. “And we want to get to know you better, but…” He gave Tristan a meaningful look. Tristan only nodded in response. “There are a few things you need to know about us, Alexis.”

  That sounded horribly foreboding to Alexis’s ears, and she made to scamper from Tristan’s lap, but he held her in place.

  “Don’t get so antsy, beautiful. What we have to say isn’t bad, it’s just… different.” He took a deep breath and paused. “Jer, why don’t you do the honors?”

  Jeremiah placed a hand underneath Alexis’s chin and turned her face to his. “What I’m about to tell you is to be held in complete and utter confidence. I’ve worked hard to keep my life the way it is now, and if this information got out, that could all change. Do you understand?”

  Alexis nodded, thoroughly confused.

  Jeremiah took a deep breath and continued. “You’ve heard of Burke Pierce Energy, correct?”

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with—”

  “Think about it.”

  Realization dawned on Alexis, and she looked up at the two men in awe, examining each in turn with an entirely new understanding of who they were. “You’re Tristan Burke.”

  “At your service,” Tristan said with a tip of a nonexistent hat. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “But isn’t Tristan Burke some heir that’s run away to…”

  Oh. Right. To work on a family rig. Alexis recalled reading about Tristan’s disappearance on a few gossip blogs that had referred to him as “Big Oil’s Prodigal Son.” They had all said he was good looking, but none had come close to describing fully the drop-dead gorgeous real thing.

  She looked back to Jeremiah in awe. “So you’re really one of those Pierces?”

  “Indeed.” He gave a cold smile reminiscent of the one he used with customers. “And as my sisters want nothing to do with the company, I’m the new acting Chief Executive Officer.”

  “Hold on.” Alexis needed answers. “Weren’t you just bitching about billionaires last night? Talking about how you thought showing off wealth was terrible?”

  “I wasn’t bitching about all billionaires.” He gave Alexis a playful fist to her shoulder. “I was only talking about the snobby ones. That’s why I came to Male Order, in fact. Everyone’s pretty damn down to earth around here.”

  Alexis continued staring at him in confusion then turned her attention to Tristan.

  “And you! You got in a fight last night and cursed out that rich kid! Were you being that hypocritical?”

  “Honey, that wasn’t about money. That was about him being a douche.”

  All of this was too much for Alexis to comprehend. She rose and began collecting her clothing. Her mission was cut short when she realized Jeremiah had destroyed her dress.

  She shot an irritated look at him, and he only grinned in response.

  “I’ve got some clothes back at the apartment, darling,” Tristan offered. “They’ll be a little big on you, but they should keep you covered enough.”

  “Covered enough for what?”

  Tristan hauled himself to his feet, crossed to Alexis, and claimed her mouth in an abrupt, passionate kiss.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Tris, we don’t have time,” Jeremiah interjected. “We have to be in a certain courtroom at eight o’clock, remember?

  “The trial!” Alexis exclaimed. It all started to make sense now. Tristan’s sullenness, the deposition, Jeremiah’s standoffishness at the Lasso, all of it was a result of the lawsuit filed against Burke Pierce Energy.

  “Starts bright and early in the morning.” Tristan rubbed his temples as he spoke, suddenly looking very stressed. “And Tristan and I are both taking the stand, though God knows when…”

  “Point is, sweetheart, you can’t stay.” Tristan put it bluntly. “And it’s not because we don’t want you to. Believe me, we want you to stay as long as you can, sexy.” He waggled his eyebrows at Alexis. “But that shit starts early, and it’s already late.”

  “I’m sorry, Alexis.” Jeremiah wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair, and she could feel exactly how much he wanted to stay bumping against her naked stomach.

  Tristan exited to the apartment and returned with a too-big T-shirt and a pair of boy’s boxers. When Alexis raised an eyebrow at his possession of the boxers, he held up his hands.

  “Hey. I have a nine-year-old brother. Don’t give me that look.”

  The three of them burst into laughter, and for the first time in months, Alexis felt safe and content. These two men wanted her to stay, and why not? What was there for her in California anyway? It didn’t matter one way or another that they were billionaires. A small part of her was disappointed that they had lied to her, or rather, made some key omissions, but something deep inside her gut told her to trust them. Plus, their wealth could make for some fun times, right?

  She cuddled against Tristan as they laughed, never wanting to leave the warmth of his arms and never wanting the warmth blooming within her to cool. With these two around, she doubted it would.

  But with their lives, would they be willing to stay around?

  Chapter 8

  A large crowd had already amassed outside the Dallas County Courthouse when Jeremiah and Tristan stepped out of the back seat of the black Lincoln Town Car. The Burke Pierce lawyers had insisted on the car as a safety measure, although both Jeremiah and Tristan would have preferred driving themselves.

  They emerged into a sea of cameras and microphones accompanied by reporters shouting questions at the top of their lungs.

  “Mr. Pierce, what do you have to say about Representative Johnston’s statements about the Burke Pierce site closures?”

  “Why has progress building the new clean energy plant slowed?”

  “Do you want to give a statement about the relocation of the company’s headquarters to Male Order?”

  Jeremiah and Tristan held their heads down and rushed through the group of reporters, lawyers and bodyguards flanking them in an attempt to shield them from the onslaught. They had almost emerged from the gaggle when Tristan heard one question that stopped him in his tracks.

  “Mr. Burke, do you plan to take a more active role on the Board of Directors now that your negligence as a foreman has caused a near-death accident?”

  Tristan turned and looked for the source of the reporter. A short, round man waved to Tristan, and despite Jeremiah’s attempts at holding him back, Tristan took off in his direction.

  “Mr. Burke, do you think your privileged upbringing had anything to do with your failures in the field? Did you purposefully put George Herndon in dan
ger? Are the rumors true that Herndon was gunning for your job?”

  Tristan only saw red and lunged toward the reporter, hands extended. How dare he? Tristan was a damn good foreman, no matter what any ignorant reporter spewed. But saying he would do such a thing to George on purpose? That was low, really low.

  Hundreds of flashes flooded the crowd of reporters with lights as photographers elbowed each other in an attempt to get Tristan’s outburst on camera. One of the Burke Pierce bodyguards took hold of Tristan’s arms before he could do any damage, but even as he was pulled away, he fought to get free.

  “You can take your questions and shove them up your ass!” He didn’t care about the press response right now. He only wanted to set the record straight. “George was a damn fine worker and one of my best friends. It’s all of you motherfuckers I’d stick in the line of fire!”

  The bodyguard finally wrangled Tristan away from the mass of reporters and into the glass doors of the imposing concrete courthouse building. Jeremiah ushered him into the elevator, but Tristan still wanted to go back out there and pummel that reporter.

  Once the elevator doors closed, leaving them in solitude, Jeremiah turned to Tristan. “What the fuck, man? This is going to be a public relations nightmare. As if we didn’t have it bad enough with Johnston and people bitching about the clean energy plant, you have to go and attack a reporter?” He shook his head and leaned against the elevator door.

  “Did you hear what that fucker said to me, though?” Tristan was determined to stand by his actions. “Calling me negligent? Claiming I did this to George on purpose? I couldn’t let him get away with that, Burke Pierce be damned.”

  “Burke Pierce be damned, my ass,” Jeremiah shot back. “You just cost us some valuable sympathy points for this trial, and we weren’t in a position to afford that. If you lost this for us, I swear I will have your ass mounted on my wall, Burke.”

  Tristan merely stared back at Jeremiah, completely willing to settle this quite violently. The dinging of the elevator and the doors opening, however, interrupted their standoff. Now a sea of legal personnel waited for them. Tristan went with his respective lawyers, and Jeremiah went with him. Tristan couldn’t hear their advising as they made their way toward the courtroom. He could only hear the rushing in his ears caused by his anger and agitation.

  * * * *

  The courtroom was consumed in a buzz of excitement when Jeremiah and Tristan entered. Jeremiah couldn’t stand the idea of even looking in Tristan’s direction. His primitive behavior may have ruined the case. He didn’t think Tristan quite grasped how vital the win was for the continued operation and flourishing of Burke Pierce. If they lost, the bad press would cost them their most valuable clients and, as a result, the funding for the clean energy plant they were building nearer Male Order.

  The clean energy plant. An idea flickered through Jeremiah’s mind, but it vanished at the banging of the judge’s gavel. He took his seat at the defendant’s table and straightened the substantial pile of documents in front of him. He looked to the case’s lead attorney and instantly regretted it. The man was hunched over a similarly massive pile of documents and shaking his head in a sign of defeat.

  Jeremiah continued flipping through his papers, not bothering to look up until he heard his lawyer delivering the opening statement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I’m sure you’ve been exposed to the media surrounding this case. It tells you that Burke Pierce is the enemy, that Burke Pierce doesn’t care about the common man. Well, let me tell you something. Burke Pierce does care about their employees, especially the everyday man.

  “The unfortunate victim of the accident, George Herndon, was a close friend of Tristan Burke, son of Burke Pierce founder Harrison Burke. My esteemed clients tried to settle this out of court and offered to pay any and all fees associated with the Mr. Herndon’s injuries, along with a significant sum for pain and suffering, but Mr. Herndon’s personal insurance company, a private entity that contracts with Burke Pierce, refused to settle and insisted on taking your valuable time to settle this in court.

  “Now, jury members, we hear day in and day out about insurance companies. Ads on television tell us that they will protect us, take care of us, see us peacefully into old age. But no such thing has happened to George Herndon, an honest guy just trying to make a living. His insurance company has decided to put him through a trial. A trial! One of the most stressful things known to mankind, and Mr. Herndon has to endure it in his state.

  “So we ask you, nay, we implore you to take these issues into consideration as you hear both sides of the story of the next few days. Cost is not an issue to Burke Pierce. They’re willing to do anything for a valued member of their team such as George Herndon. Please, reward him with the most substantial sum you can justify. Give the little guy a break, folks. Don’t we all deserve a break?”

  The lead Burke Pierce attorney returned to his seat, and Jeremiah nodded at him in appreciation. The words had been carefully planned and rehearsed over the past several weeks, designed to create maximum sympathy in the jury. Public opinion said that Burke Pierce was an evil, careless corporation. Getting the jury on their side was the oldest trick in the book, but necessary.

  A series of insurance officials took the stand, but Jeremiah couldn’t bring himself to listen to their testimony. His mind was stuck in the night before. Images of Alexis stretched out naked before him played across his mind. Just the thought of her screaming in ecstasy caused his cock to stir and press on the zipper of his pants.

  His attention returned to the trial when the plaintiff’s attorney announced that he had to refrain from calling a witness since that witness was occupied with official state business in Austin. When asked for the name of the witness, a twisted smile broke on the attorney’s face.

  “State Representative Joseph R. Johnston.”

  Jeremiah felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Joey Johnston would be on the stand. What the fuck did he know about the case? The plaintiff’s reasoning then occurred to Jeremiah. Johnston had amassed a huge following through appearances on television and radio during his campaign. If he became formally affiliated with the case, his supporters would take up the cause of bringing down Burke Pierce. This was a huge blow to their case. Combined with Tristan’s outburst this morning, it promised a very difficult road in the days to follow.

  “Court is recessed until eight o’clock tomorrow morning.” The judge’s order boomed through the room, and the din of excited voices rained down on Jeremiah again. He turned around and searched the room for Tristan. He stood in a back corner, clearly trying to avoid attention. Their eyes met, and Jeremiah saw nothing but torment in Tristan’s gaze. He knew this was even worse for Tristan than it was for him. Tomorrow Tristan would take the stand as the plaintiff’s witness, and his competency as a foreman would be called into question, as well as his friendship with Herndon.

  Another man in a suit touched Tristan’s shoulder, and he turned toward him, breaking his gaze with Jeremiah. He slowly headed toward the exit, his brain unable to focus on what his attorneys were saying all around him. This day had been pure fucking torture, and he needed relief. He needed Alexis.

  * * * *

  Tristan had really fucked up. His image was plastered across every major news outlet, and some jackass with a cell phone camera had uploaded a video to YouTube. It now ran about once every ten minutes. He sat in Jeremiah’s apartment in SoMale staring at his own image on television.

  “What did I tell you?” Tristan had only heard Jeremiah this angry a few times in his life. “Public relations disaster. First your idiocy, then motherfucking Joey Johnston. Damn it.” He slammed his fist on the glass table to the right of Tristan. “There’s no way out of this.”

  “There has to be a way, Jer. We haven’t done anything wrong. If we can just get rid of all this insurance bullshit, we can take care of George like we always wanted to.”

  Jeremiah paused his frustrated p
acing at the mention of George’s name. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

  No. Tristan wasn’t ready for tomorrow. The image of George flying through the air after the blast preventer went played itself on repeat in Tristan’s brain. The thought of that failure made him physically ill. The worst part was that he had no clue how it had happened. That damn rig had been checked and rechecked about a dozen times before it went out. There was no way it was an equipment malfunction, and Tristan had thought of himself as a pretty damn good foreman.

  “I can’t not be ready. They’re gonna skewer me alive on the stand. I got no excuse.”

  “You know they’re going to call everything about you into question, right? Your whole private life is going to be laid bare for the jury.”

  “Alexis,” was all Tristan could manage. Her image kept looping through his brain. This change in their lives would impact her hugely, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen.

  “I know.”

  “We gotta do something. I mean, I know she’s the one, but I don’t know how we can get her through this. Our lives aren’t like other people’s, and this whole incident will illustrate that for her in a big way.”

  Jeremiah laughed as he put a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Now you know how I was feeling.” He took a seat next to Tristan and stared at the silent flashing images on the TV for a moment. “But you convinced me that my life wasn’t complete without her, and now I can’t let her go. We’re gonna get through this.”

  An idea walked fully formed into Tristan’s brain. “Speaking of Alexis, you gotta be at the Lasso tonight?”

  “I should, but I think Jan and Win can hold down the fort on a Monday.”

  “Then I think it’s time to give Alexis the night of her life.”

  * * * *

  Alexis returned to the apartment drenched in sweat from her workout in the building’s fitness center. Now that she knew that Tristan was filthy rich, the fact that the gym was fully outfitted with a personal trainer hanging around to help residents didn’t surprise her as much as it normally would have. She took a swig of the Evian bottle she had been given at the gym and fell onto the large leather couch in the center of the living room. The door to her room had been left open, and she spied something inside that looked unfamiliar.