Don't Fight It

by Samantha A. Cole

  Rolling up the sleeves of the long-sleeved T-shirt he’d donned with sweatpants after a shower before dinner, he turned on the faucet, grabbed a sponge and the bottle of dish soap, and began scrubbing. As he worked his way through the dirty dishes, utensils, and glasses, he thought back to when Sarah had been alive and doing the dishes hadn’t felt like a boring chore. Every night, after Arianna had gone to bed, Sarah had washed the pots, pans, dishes, et cetera, while Shane and Tuck had dried and put them all away. They’d chat about how their day had gone, what was new in the small-town rumor mill, and any other topics that came up. More often than not, the work had turned into play. Sometimes Sarah flicked water and suds at her husbands, or one of them snapped a towel at someone’s ass, or any other silliness, and it wasn’t long before they moved the fun into their huge master bedroom.

  Damn, he missed Sarah. Two years felt like two months to Tuck. He didn’t think he’d ever get over the loss. If it hadn’t been for Shane and Arianna, he doubted he would’ve gotten out of bed those first few months, and then he probably would have drank himself to death, like his grandfather had done years ago.

  After forcing the depressing thoughts from his mind, Tuck was scrubbing the last of the forks and knives when strong, masculine arms wrapped around his waist, and he felt a hard, sculpted chest against his back. Goosebumps pebbled over his skin as his husband kissed and nibbled on his neck. Tuck’s arms went slack, his hands dropping below the waterline in the sink, as he tilted his head to the side, giving Shane better access. Moaning, he shifted his hips, rubbing his ass on Shane’s stiff erection and wishing there weren’t two layers of clothing between them. The two men were the same height and general weight, but that’s where the similarities between them ended. Tuck’s longer, dark-brown hair and hazel eyes were courtesy of his British and Canadian heritage, while Shane’s dark Irish and Greek DNA gave him his black hair and chestnut eyes.

  Grasping the hem of Tuck’s shirt, Shane whispered, “Lift your arms.” When he followed the directive, Shane pulled the shirt up and over his head, then tossed it onto the counter next to the sink. Arianna must have fallen asleep during story time—she was a deep sleeper—because Shane pushed Tuck’s sweatpants and briefs down to his knees. Letting his husband take the lead like he preferred, Tuck stood there. As expected, Shane knelt behind him and kneaded his ass cheeks before separating them. Tuck’s eyes fluttered shut, his hands gripping the edge of the sink for support when Shane’s tongue rimmed his asshole. A hand snaked around Tuck’s hips and grabbed his stiff cock, pumping it in time to the wet, thrusting tongue.

  Shane had been bisexual since his teens but was the only same-sex lover Tuck had ever had. It’d come as a shock to Tuck the night he’d realized he wanted his new ménage partner as much as he’d wanted the woman they’d been sharing. His attraction to the other man was something he’d fought for several weeks before finally giving into Shane’s seduction. The resulting full-ménage relationship was far better than anything Tuck could have dreamed of. He’d figured out much later that Shane’s reasoning for suggesting they join forces in pursuing the woman they’d both wanted was because he’d also been lusting after his foreman. The successful ranch had been in Shane’s family for five generations. Tuck had been the foreman for two years before Sarah had moved into town to take a teaching position at the local elementary school. His sister also taught there and had invited the newcomer to the traditional barbecue that was held every fall at the Red River Ranch, where Sarah had caught the eye of several men from Hazard Falls. Thankfully, the ones she’d fallen in love with had been Tuck and Shane.

  Pain shot through Tuck when his husband bit his ass cheek. “Where’d you go, Tuck? Because it wasn’t here with me.” Shane stood, dragging his calloused hands up Tuck’s sides. “Hmm?”

  Tuck knew better than to lie—Shane had a way of seeing right through him, and it would only cause an argument. “Just missing Sarah.”

  An uneasy silence filled the air. Tuck felt tension build up in his lover’s hands and knew he’d just ruined the intimate moment. When Shane removed his hands from Tuck’s skin, he pulled his sweatpants back up and turned around to face him. The pain he saw in his husband’s eyes almost did Tuck in.

  “Am I not enough for you?”

  Tuck’s eyes widened at the surprising question. “What?”

  Taking another step back, Shane ran a hand through his hair as an exasperated expression stole over his face. “I mean, I miss Sarah too—there’s not a day that goes by I don’t think of her—but damnit, Tuck, I’m still here, and I need you. I need you to be my husband in every sense of the word. I’ve tried to give you time . . . but . . . shit, enough is enough. I’m sick of you just going through the motions where I’m concerned. It’s been over two fucking years, and I get the feeling you’d rather be up in that cemetery with her, than here with me and Arianna.” Somehow, he’d kept the volume of his voice low enough so as to not wake their daughter, but there was still plenty of anger behind his words.

  Shit. Tuck hadn’t realized his inability to stop grieving for Sarah had been negatively affecting Shane and their relationship. Part of him understood where his husband was coming from, but the other part was pissed Shane had been able to move past their shared loss. Tuck grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it back on. “What do you want me to do? Forget about her?”

  Quickly closing the distance between them, Shane cupped Tuck’s jaw with his hands. “No, I don’t want that at all. Neither one of us will ever be able to forget about Sarah. But we both have so much more living to do before we join her, and I want to enjoy that time while we have it. Do you remember the last night we had with her?”

  Tuck bit his bottom lip and shut his eyes to keep back the tears he felt forming. Shane wasn’t asking about the night before Sarah died. Instead, it was the night before that. They’d brought hospice in a few weeks earlier to help manage her pain. A hospital bed had been set up in one of the spare bedrooms, so the nurses and aides could tend to Sarah’s needs at any hour. Meanwhile Shane and Tuck caught what sleep they could in the master suite, in between work and caring for Arianna. Sarah had been so thin and weak toward the end, it’d been painful for her loved ones to see her like that. The night before she’d slipped into a coma, she’d asked her husbands to carry her into their bed for a little while, so she could lie with them on either side of her. She must have known it would be the last time. Shane had carefully picked her up, carried her into their room, and placed her in the middle of the extra-large, king-sized bed they’d all shared, while Tuck had closed the door behind them. It’d been difficult for Sarah to speak for long periods of time, but somehow, she’d managed.

  “Promise me something?” Sarah’s voice was low and raspy with fatigue and the effects of the morphine.

  Climbing onto the bed, Tuck stretched out as close to her as he could without hurting her. The pain medication had helped, but she was still suffering. Her pale skin was almost translucent, and she bruised easily now that the cancer had ravaged her body. Her hair had been gone for two weeks, and she wasn’t wearing one of the scarves she used to keep from frightening Arianna. Tuck barely got his words past the lump in his throat. “Anything, baby.”

  “What, sweetheart?” Shane asked as he laid down on the other side of her and stroked her cheek, his eyes filled with the same despair Tuck was feeling. They didn’t have much time left with her, and it was ripping both men to shreds.

  She licked her dry lips, barely wetting them. “Promise me you’ll stay together. Don’t miss me so much that you lose sight of each other. Someday, if you find someone who makes you both happy, and is good to Arianna, don’t be afraid to let them in.” Tuck opened his mouth to say that would never happen, but she lifted a weak hand to stop him. “It won’t mean you loved me any less—I know that. You both have so much love to give to each other, and if that spills over to someone else, I’ll understand. In fact, maybe I’ll send you someone someday. I just want your promise you won’t
let your grief stop you from living your lives to the fullest.”

  Through his watery eyes, Tuck saw tears rolling down Shane’s cheeks, and he couldn’t help the ragged sob that was torn from his own chest. Sarah reached up and cupped Tuck’s jaw, then did the same to Shane. “Please don’t cry,” she begged them, despite her own tears. “I love you both so much. If I knew back then how this would end, I still wouldn’t have changed a thing. Now, promise me . . . please?”

  They’d both made the vow—they would’ve given her the universe if they could—however, Tuck couldn’t imagine anyone else ever taking his beloved Sarah’s place. But that didn’t mean his heart was empty. Opening his eyes again, he found Shane staring at him, waiting for an answer. Tuck nodded. “Yeah, I remember; I’ll never forget it. I’m sorry if you think I want to be with her more than with you.” Grabbing Shane’s hips, he pulled him closer and leaned forward to brush their lips together. “Please, don’t ever think I loved Sarah more than you—Arianna, Sarah and you each own a third of my heart. I love you so much. If you weren’t here, I don’t know how I ever would’ve made it this far after losing her.” He sniffled and blinked away a few unashamed tears. It wasn’t the first time he’d cried in front of his loving husband. “Please, don’t give up on me, Shane. I’ll try . . . I swear, I’ll try to get my head out of my ass.” Tuck kissed him again.

  Parting his lips, Shane licked Tuck’s mouth, silently demanding entry. Things heated up quickly again, reminding Tuck how explosive it’d always been between the two of them. Making love to Sarah had been mind-blowing, but her husbands had always been gentler with her. With each other, though, there tended to be a battle for dominance—sometimes Shane won, other times Tuck did. This time, though, the latter knew what Shane needed, and let him take the lead.

  Tuck’s sweatpants were shoved down his legs again, but this time when Shane went onto his knees, his mouth had another target. Tuck grabbed the counter behind him to keep himself upright, as his cock disappeared between his lover’s lips. Wet, scorching heat surrounded him, and he almost came from that alone. Add in the suction when Shane took him deep, he knew this was going to be fast and furious. Fingers dug into his hips, pinning him to the counter. Shane wanted full control, and Tuck gave it to him. He thrust his hand into Shane’s hair without altering the pace of his bobbing head.

  Slamming his eyes shut, Tuck gave into the sensations bombarding him. Shane’s hand pushed Tuck’s shirt up, and knowing what the silent demand meant, he grabbed the back of it and shed it once more. Shane was going to make Tuck cum on his abdomen. He was so close and wasn’t too proud to beg. “Please . . . oh, God, Shane . . . suck me harder. Shit! I’m gonna blow!”

  He tightened his grip on the edge the counter as his balls drew up closer to his body. Shane’s mouth was replaced by his hand, squeezing and pumping hard. Tuck’s breathing and heart rate were out of control. The orgasm hit him with such intensity it was surprising he managed to stay on his feet as cum shot out onto his abs and chest. When Tuck had nothing more to give, Shane took a swipe of the semen in his hand, before spinning his husband around to face the counter. Tuck’s lungs were still heaving for air when wet fingers lubricated his hole, almost viciously, moments before they were replaced by Shane’s cock. Groaning, Tuck leaned over and pushed back against the invasion. It wasn’t long before Shane was buried deep inside and began to fuck him as if their lives depended on it.

  “Shit . . . so fucking tight. I love this ass . . . it’s mine.” Shane growled—a beast claiming his mate—as he pounded into him. A hand slapped across Tuck’s ass cheek. “Fucking mine!”

  With each thrust, the distance between Tuck and the counter diminished until he was up against it, his hands now flat against the tiled wall above the sink. He was going to have bruises on his hipbones in the morning but didn’t care. He needed this . . . they both did.

  Shane rammed into him, paused, then withdrew and did it again. The third time he stayed deep and bit Tuck’s shoulder to keep from roaring with his release.

  Still trying to catch his breath, Tuck took Shane’s weight as the man collapsed on top of him, chest to back, gasping. Closing his eyes and reveling in the afterglow, Tuck hoped he could make good on his oath to get his head and heart back into their marriage. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Shane too.

  Chapter Four

  Pacing the hallway near the security checkpoint of the small airport, Shane waited for Paige Merritt’s puddle-jumper to arrive. It was four hours west to the Denver International Airport, the closest major hub to Red River Ranch, so Quinn had booked her on a ten-seater plane to Garden City, which was just under an hour drive to the south. That was the thing about Hazard Falls, it took forever to get anywhere from there. Hell, the closest Walmart and McDonald’s were about thirty-five minutes away.

  His mind flittered back to breakfast a few hours ago. After what’d happened in the kitchen last night, Shane had never gotten around to telling Tuck about their new house manager. So right before the ranch hands started strolling into the huge dining room with its twenty-seat, honey-stained, oak table, Shane had mentioned it as he poured milk into Arianna’s bowl of Cheerios.

  “By the way, we have a new housekeeper starting today.”

  Tuck’s gaze shot to Shane’s, before he set down the two orange juice cartons he’d retrieved from the refrigerator. “Yeah? Who? I didn’t know you found anyone else to interview?”

  “Does she know how to make pancakes?” Arianna asked, her face lighting up at the prospect.

  Shane chuckled at his daughter. “I don’t know, but I’ll ask for you, pipsqueak. Now hurry up and eat. I’m going to drop you off at school on the way to Walmart and then the airport.”

  Standing on the other side of the table, Tuck raised an eyebrow at his husband. “Airport?”

  “Yup. To pick up the housekeeper. Quinn called yesterday and had someone who was interested in relocating. Thought she’d be perfect for us.” While he’d been talking, his gaze went everywhere but to Tuck’s face. He knew without looking the man was scowling at him.

  “One of his clients?”

  That growled question said that the first thought Tuck had was the same one Shane had had while on the phone with Quinn. Finally, his gaze met Tuck’s. “Former. She’s no longer with the program and no one is looking for her.” That’s all he’d say about how Paige knew Quinn in front of Arianna. “I trust him, and I checked her out on the internet. She’s just trying to put a failed marriage behind her and start over. She’s got small town experience and can cook and run a house. What more do we need to know?”

  His stare dared Tuck to argue with him. Ever the pessimist, it wasn’t often Tuck agreed with Shane on large issues without having all the facts and weighing the pros and cons for several hours first before making a decision. But they were out of local options when it came to filling the position. “I told Quinn it would be on a trial basis. If she doesn’t work out after a week, we’ll start looking for someone else. Okay?”

  Relenting, but obviously not happy about it, Tuck nodded as the backdoor to the kitchen swung open and their employees started rolling in. After breakfast, Tuck would be taking some of the men out to the northern pastures where the fencing needed to be repaired before the cattle could be rotated there for the fresher grass. Later in the week, they’d be busy as all hell as they rounded up the young steers and heifers that hadn’t been branded yet. It would be a two-day job to put the Red River Ranch’s symbol on all of them for identification purposes. They used two back-to-back, combined Rs, seared into the cattle’s thick hides, as their brand, in addition to “notching” the animals’ right ears. The two distinct markings would help identify them if they were ever stolen.

  “Daddy?”

  Taking his usual seat at the head of the table, Shane turned his attention to his daughter. “What, sweetheart?”

  “Is the new housekeeper pretty?”

  Shane’s eyebrows shot up as he wondered wher
e the question had come from and what difference it made to his daughter. Then he thought of the pictures he’d found of Paige Merritt, formerly Winthrope, online. Pretty wasn’t the word he would use to describe her . . . downright gorgeous was more like it. Her honey-brown hair had been longer in older photos, but more recently she’d had it cut so it just reached the top of her shoulders. Her blue eyes, that’d once sparkled while she’d stood next to her asshole husband during some elite, social event, had dulled when she’d been photographed coming out of the Los Angeles Federal Courthouse several weeks ago. But in all the pictures he’d found on the web, she’d carried herself regally. Once again, Shane worried it wouldn’t take long before the woman found them all beneath her and demanded a ride back to the airport and the more high-class civilization she’d become accustomed to in San Francisco.

  “Yes, I saw her picture. She’s very pretty, Arianna. Why?”