by L. E. Harner
Uriah licked his lips and Gabe’s eyes narrowed and shifted focus for a second, locked on what she knew was one of the most beautiful mouths she’d ever seen…ever tasted. Gabe leaned forward, their lips a hairsbreadth apart. Then Uriah sighed as Gabe closed the distance and pushed their mouths together.
A gentle touch of lips that stole her breath at the beauty of the act, at the beauty of the two men. Then the gentleness disappeared in maelstrom of need. Hot, hungry gasps of breath. Swallowed murmurs and moans. Her breasts felt full, tight with need, nipples pinched into hard peaks when Gabe’s hand slid to Uriah’s bare chest and he pinched the dark copper nipple. Jesus, she wanted that nipple in her mouth, the taste of Uriah on her tongue. The feel of Gabe at her back.
To have the both of them—
Gabe broke the kiss and leaned back, slightly. “I want you, Uriah. Make no mistake, I fucking want to have you, want to teach you,” Gabe said. His voice was heavy, deep. His breath came in panting gasps. Oh God, was he going to take Uriah right now? She went wet at the thought.
It was too dark to see Uriah’s eyes, but something about his posture changed at Gabe’s words. He’d definitely been enjoying the kiss, if she was to judge by the quiet sounds from the back of his throat. But when Gabe growled that promise, Uriah…melted. Shit, that wasn’t right, too girly…maybe…submitted. Uriah turned up his chin and exposed his throat. Gabe nuzzled into the crook and bit his way along the collarbone, just like he was claiming his mate. Diane shook her head at the fantasy. Something about the mysticism of the canyon was getting to her.
Jesus God, I’m going to come just watching them.
Gabe pulled back again with a little bite to Uriah’s bottom lip.
“God, Uriah. So fucking hot. So fucking young.” Gabe leaned in and brushed his lips across Uriah’s once more. Then he stood and offered his hand. Uriah reached up, and Gabe pulled him to his feet. The men stood close for a minute before Gabe gave Uriah a little push on the shoulder to turn him toward the cave.
“It’s my turn on the watch, you go tuck in next to Diane. You need the sleep and there will be time enough for all of us to think about this. Because it can’t just be you and me, college boy. You love, Diane, and I’m fairly certain those feelings don’t go just the one way. For me, it would have to be a package deal, because I want you both. But I’m not certain I can go there with a couple, again. Go on,” he said, giving Uriah another little push.
As Uriah shuffled deeper into their cave, Diane quickly closed her lids so they wouldn’t realize that she’d been awake and privy to their conversation, to their kisses. What had Gabe meant about couples? And how did he know how she felt about Uriah? With a secret smile, Diane knew that no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes, she’d never forget the look on Uriah’s face: eyes sleepy-sexy, heavy lids half-closed, his mouth kiss swollen, lips slightly parted… God.
As she replayed Gabe’s words, her heart felt as if it might pound right out of her chest. Did Uriah love her? She just didn’t know, had never known how he felt about her. At one time she’d allowed herself to hope that Uriah cared for her, but that had been a long time ago, and it had been wrong in so many ways. Jesus, this makes everything a thousand times worse. How will Uriah feel when he discovers the truth behind his brother’s suicide? When he finally realizes that I’m the reason Pete killed himself?
“Diane, why didn’t you tell him?” Gabe asked, making her jump. How could he know she was awake or that she’d heard their conversation?
“What?” she asked, making her voice sleepy. She blinked rapidly, as if she’d just awakened. She was stalling for time, but a look at Gabe’s face told her the ruse wasn’t working. Uriah moved further back until he was seated next to her, but not too close.
“How do you know I didn’t just wake up?” She knew she sounded sulky, but she did not want to talk about this right now, especially after last night.
Gabe lifted a shoulder, but didn’t look away from her. She sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Life is complicated. It’s also short. Obviously you heard at least a little of our conversation. Which means you heard how Uriah feels about you. Don’t you think it’s time he heard from you, too?”
Diane reached for her water bottle and took a long drink, buying herself a little more time to think. There were rules in her life now. Rules that demanded honesty and apology to those she hurt. Uriah was the one she’d hurt the most over the years, and he’d never complained, never stopped supporting her. He deserved to know the truth and she…the thought trailed off before she gave herself a mental shake. She knew it was time, because she needed to be set free.
“Why don’t you tell me, instead?” Gabe interrupted her thoughts, as though he already knew her decision and just wanted to help. “Uriah, lie down beside her and just listen. How long have you known Uriah, Dee?”
Diane sat up and waited until Uriah was stretched out on the sleeping bag next to hers. It was too hot to climb inside, too hot to touch. She glanced over at Uriah but quickly turned away. Talking to Gabe seemed a lot easier than looking at Uriah’s big dark eyes and unreadable expression.
“Oh lord, now that goes way back. I think he was twelve and I would have been sixteen. His family moved into our neighborhood. We used to have this giant shaggy sheepdog named Sheba, and I hated having to walk her. It wasn’t cool, you know?”
Gabe nodded, but didn’t interrupt, so Diane continued. “Mom made me take Sheba for a walk. I wasn’t supposed to take her off our street, because she was a little wild and hard to control sometimes. But Sheba and I had wild and out of control in common and I was supposed to meet someone, so I was on this busy street and not paying attention. Sheba yanked the leash out of my hand a raced down the street. Uriah caught her…or maybe she caught him, I don’t know. He was this big, gangly kid, flat on his back holding Sheba around the waist. She was licking him and he was laughing like crazy.” She risked a glance at Gabe and thought she caught a fleeting smile cross his face. It was a good memory, one of her last happy ones before the dark days.
“The next week, his brother, Pete showed up at the high school. Where Uriah was skinny and long, Pete was bulky, filled out. He was the new kid, so all the girls wanted him.”
Gabe was watching her through narrowed eyes. When she didn’t continue, he cleared his throat. “So, let me guess…you got the guy?”
“Not then. I didn’t want anything to do with him.” She blew out another breath. She might as well tell him. Gabe was the type of man who would wait it out of her. With another quick look in Uriah’s direction, Diane took a deep breath before she continued.
“I didn’t want anything to do with anyone who couldn’t get me my next fix. I didn’t care what it was either. Booze, pills, coke. Smack if I could get it. I dropped out of school a few weeks after Pete enrolled. I left home, lived on the streets…” She turned her face away. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in Gabe’s eyes, the look on his face…the look respectable people wore when they learned about her past.
Gabe spoke, his voice gentle. “That’s a tough life for a sixteen year old. But you made it through. Look at you now. You’re not a junkie, Dee.”
“No, I’m clean. Have been for four years. But it wasn’t easy and I nearly died in the process. In a way, it was really Uriah who saved me.” She swallowed hard, felt the flush run up her neck.
“I was twenty-two and going nowhere. My family had nothing to do with me. It had been six years of hard living. I was usually stoned on something, lived on couches or wherever I could crash. One night I was at a party, but I was sick. Real sick, but no one cared. Not even me. I was surprised as hell when Uriah walked in with a bunch of his friends. It was his damn eighteenth birthday, and in a giant fit of rebellion, he’d ditched his family and decided to come to one of the party houses by the U.
“He’d filled out since I’d last seen him, grown into all that height. Taller than Pete and even broader across the chest. A good-looking k
id. Anyway, these two guys wanted me to go home with them. I was trashed, but I’d ’a gone. That was what I did, you know?” This time she did meet Gabe’s gaze. It was better to know his reaction, so she could guard her heart.
Gabe’s hazel eyes were steady, his expression one of polite interest, as if this were a story about somebody else. “Go on, I’m listening,” he said.
Diane nodded, but her heart rate sped up and there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. This wasn’t a story she’d ever told outside of her recovery group or to her therapist. There was a reason she didn’t like to look at these memories. Then Uriah’s hand closed around hers, and he gave a little squeeze. His reassuring grip gave her the encouragement she needed to go on. Taking a deep breath, she continued.
“One of the guys pulled me by the arm. Like I said, I was sick and I was trashed, so I stumbled a bit. Uriah must have seen, because he came straight across the room and threatened to kick the guy’s ass if he laid a hand on me. Before I could say a word, Uriah wrapped his arm around my shoulder and steered me from the house. Took me to his car, put the seatbelt on me. I don’t remember much about what he was saying, but I guess when he touched my skin, he realized I had a fever. He got me to the hospital. To make a long story short, they treated me for hepatitis B. The doctors convinced my family to do an intervention and I ended up in rehab.
“Uriah visited me. Shit.” She could feel her face burning with the shame of those memories. Now that she’d started telling the story, she was determined Gabe would hear it all, know the worst. She rocked back and forth, hugging her legs to her chest. “I had to finish detox and go to counseling, but eventually they let me have visitors. Uriah was right there. No one else. Not my family, not any of my junkie friends. Just Uriah.”
She dropped her voice to a near whisper. “At first, I tried to seduce Uriah so he would get me out. Or bring me booze. Anything to quench the thirst that was burning a hole in my brain.” She looked up at Gabe again then risked a glance at Uriah. He lay next to her, still holding her hand, his eyes closed. She continued.
“He was a kid and I would have given him any part of me just to get my next fix.”
Uriah’s thumb rubbed against the back of her hand. He didn’t let go but he didn’t look at her, either.
“And did he?” Gabe asked.
“No,” she whispered. “Thank God. He told me not to be stupid.” Suddenly, Diane grinned. It was the first happy memory she had of that dark time. “Those first weeks were awkward because I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what had been happening in the world. Uriah just talked about anything and everything. Sports, his classes, mutual friends. Here he was, eighteen years old, working, going to JC, and spending his free time helping me put my life back together. Pretty soon, the feelings I’d faked at the beginning started to feel real. I couldn’t trust them, you know? I was worried I was making Uriah my next fix. I am an addict, after all.”
“Yeah, I think I get that. But Uriah wasn’t a kid. Not technically.”
“No, not technically, but I began to fixate on my feelings for him. I thought I was in love with Uriah. The counselor thought it was just another form of dependence and suggested it might be better if Uriah didn’t visit any more, but I didn’t want to be alone. So, I asked him to bring Pete along.”
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Uriah still hadn’t spoken, hadn’t changed the rhythm of that slow stroke of his thumb. “Pete and I got along just fine. He started coming every day and Uriah quit coming. I told myself it was for the best. Pete had a lot more shades of gray, could understand better about things I’d done to get a fix. Pete wanted money and power, and he was determined to get them. Anyway, fast-forward a bit. I latched on to Pete and he to me. I moved in with him when I left rehab. Our families were strangely happy with the match. Mine, because although I was sober, I’d been an embarrassment for the past several years. It wasn’t something they wanted to risk repeating. Pete’s dad had his own reasons. Eventually, we got married because his daddy’s law firm liked their junior counselors settled.”
“Did you love him?” Gabe asked. For the first time, Diane thought she heard a tightness in his voice that hadn’t been there earlier. When she looked up, his face was in the shadows, his expression hard to read.
“No, and he didn't love me. But we fit well together. I got my certification as a fitness trainer and he finished his law degree and passed the bar. Life moved on.” She sighed. “You might as well know the rest. I knew Pete was gay right from the start. His father suspected and that's why he wanted us to get married. Having a gay son, even one who is a successful lawyer, is unacceptable to the high and mighty Rueben Wadsworth. Even though I’d been a junkie, I cleaned up well enough, and my family had the right status to make him look good. Plus, Pete was getting restless, so having him marry me was a way to control him.”
“Do you know why he killed himself?” Gabe asked, his voice very quiet in the still, early morning hours before dawn.
“Shut up, Gabe,” Uriah growled. His eyes now open, gaze fixed on the other man.
“No. Be still, Uriah, let Dee talk.” Gabe’s voice held a touch of command, and she noticed Uriah backed down at once, his face set in mutinous lines.
“It’s okay, Uriah. You need to hear this. I should have already told you. Pete is dead is because of me. Pete was in the closet as far as your dad was concerned, but it didn't bother him to know he was gay. He had no internal conflict at all. Having a wife was a matter of professional convenience. I think the only reason he didn’t tell you is because he didn’t want to put you between him and your dad if it ever got out.
"The problem was with me. I couldn’t maintain the charade anymore. Remember, I went through rehab. I needed to be able to live with myself, with the decisions I made. We were each free to have our little flings on the side, as long as we were discreet and word would never get back to your dad. I had strong feelings for someone, someone I’d hurt in the past, but I couldn’t even admit to that without blowing Pete’s cover wide open.
“I was scheduled for a two-day conference in Las Vegas. Pete made some smart-assed remark about my getting laid there so I’d be less bitchy when I returned. It pissed me off. I told him I was done covering for him, done living a lie. I wanted a divorce. Three days later, Pete was dead.” She paused for a long moment, closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “Your brother killed himself because of me.”
When the heavy arm slipped around her back, Diane took the comfort and leaned into the shoulder offered. She rested her head against the big chest, and was touched when she felt the light press of lips on her hair.
Chapter Eight
Gabe wanted to bundle the two of them into his arms and protect them from themselves. His anger pushed away his professional demeanor and he lashed out at the now dead Pete Wadsworth. “The two of you have it wrong. Suicide is the greatest magic act of all. Misdirection at its finest. You fuck up and then think ‘Oh, gee. Let me kill myself and let everyone else clean up the mess I made of my fucking life!’ Pete wasn’t the only person to ever feel the blackness. Goddamn, I didn’t even know him, but I know you…and you didn’t…couldn’t cause him—”
Breaking off his sudden rant, Gabe raked his hand through his hair. “Sorry. Obviously, I have issues of my own.”
Uriah turned to face him for a long moment, clearly expecting an explanation and willing to wait Gabe out. The moonlight cast shadows in the sharp angles of his high cheekbones, chiseled nose, broad forehead. Gabe wanted to thread his fingers into that thick black mane framing Uriah’s handsome face, to kiss away the patient look in those big, dark eyes, to make Uriah as aware of him as he was of the younger man. When his gaze settled on Diane, her beautiful face was a mask of empathy, and he wanted to lay his head on her lap and accept the comfort of her caress.
It seemed easier to talk than to fight against the inevitable, and Gabe found himself sharing a story very few knew. He took a deep breath and moved to sit on the edge o
f the sleeping bags.
“In the past, I had a typical big city medical practice. Now, I prefer to only work part time. For a while, I thought I would quit altogether. I probably would have if it hadn’t been for the intervention of one of my best friends.” He sighed, scratched at his rough cheek and thought about how to say what he needed to say.
“I started drinking in medical school. Not just me, we all did. It was better living through chemicals. We were self-medicating, caffeine or amphetamines, alcohol or sleeping pills. I was working thirty-six to forty-eight hour shifts as a resident and I needed either to stay awake or grab some shuteye. It was brutal, but it wasn’t anything that thousands of other doctors haven't done.
“It became a habit. One I liked a lot. I could do anything. Work all day, party half the night, then grab a couple of hours of sleep and do it all over again, and then crash. For nearly ten years, that was how I lived my life. I was careful not to get too drunk, too high, always watching that I wasn’t becoming that cliché of physician needing to heal thyself.” He gave a snort of derision and looked away. Jesus.
“A few years later, I was an attending at Phoenix General, and per our contract, I worked the overnights two weeks per month, and I supervised the residents. One night I was on duty, but there were three residents sharing the rotation. It was my turn to grab a couple of hours of down time. I had a little drink to help me drop off to sleep quickly. Not much, just enough to relax me. At least that’s what I told myself.
“There was a multiple car accident on the highway. One of the big dust storms, a forty-seven car pile-up. It was everybody to their stations, and I was pulled from the bunkroom to come back after only an hour down time. As you would expect with that many cars, there were several serious injuries, including a car of teenagers who had been on their way home from a baseball tournament. I caught one of the boys. I learned all about him later. His name was Kirk. Played shortstop. He’d been in the middle of the back seat and not wearing a seat belt. Why do we all think we’re so fucking immortal?”
