Awake: Book 3 of the Wild Love Series

by Jameson, Red L.

  “But there’s got to be some truth to that, Joe. I mean, I know what your mom did during your childhood. I’m sure that made an impact on you, and I…the way I feel…towards your own brother…you have to think of me as a cheater.”

  He cups my chin, pulling me up for another kiss. This one just a lip-to-lip lock. He releases my lips to kiss me along my hairline, saying, “I thought I’d be jealous. But I realized if you’d slept with my brother what I’d feel was hurt that you and Shane had a secret you were keeping from me. That’s it. I don’t know why, and maybe there’s something wrong with me, but I felt…you and my brother…like it was natural if you—”

  I suck in a breath, pulling away from him, trying to look into his gray eyes, but I can’t see anything other than bare outlines of his handsome face.

  He caresses my cheek. “Do you think I’m fucked up?”

  I shake my head, because I’m not sure what to say.

  Shane caresses my hip and moves up to squeeze my waist. “Tell him, Moira. Tell him your secret so he doesn’t feel like you’re leaving him to hang.”

  I turn back to Joe. “I don’t think you’re fucked up.”

  Joe softly chuckles. “That’s your secret?”

  I lean forward and capture his smiling lips against my own. “Smart alec.”

  Joe cups my cheek again. “Say smart ass. I want to see if I can feel you blush.”

  “Oh, awesome.” Shane scoots even closer, his hand against my other cheek. “I want in on this. Say it.”

  I bat their hands away, giggling. “The both of you are smart asses.”

  “Takes one to know one, Moira.”

  “How very mature of you, Shane,” Joe chuckles. “Your humor has evolved to third-grade level. At least.”

  “Thanks. You noticed?”

  “Yeah, Jennifer.” Joe reaches across the top of the couch and shoves his brother’s shoulder. “I noticed.”

  Shane wraps his arm along the back of the couch too, giving his brother a slight push, but then he settles against me, his free hand on my leg, leaning against me like—like—I don’t know what.

  So I can’t help but ask as I turn to Shane. “You’re not jealous, either?”

  He sucks in a breath, leaning even closer. “Nah-uh. Moira, I’m not going to be as easy on you as my brother is. Your secret first. Then I’ll spill.”

  “But—”

  His hand brushes up my leg, resting on my stomach. “Be brave, baby. Ask for what you want.”

  Instead, I kiss him. I’m pushy and needy and sweep my tongue against his lips urgently. He opens because I think he’s surprised more than anything else. I thrust inside though, finding his tongue responding to mine. But he pushes me away, huffing for air.

  “God, you—Moira, you don’t play fair.” Shane shakes his head. “Say it. Don’t make us guess. Be brave, baby. Just ask.”

  My monster is out. She’s the only shred of me I have left. She’s me. I’m her. And she’s afraid, but she’s strong enough to fight for what she already thinks is hers. So I whisper, “I want both of you.”

  Joe turns my head and kisses me, Shane kissing my neck, his arms instantly around my waist. One of Joe’s hands channels through my hair, the other climbing my leg again. Shane’s hands also ascend to my ribs where he stalls, but after he bites my throat, making me moan, he gently moves to the bottom of my breast.

  I jump from the both of them, somehow standing, as I glance down at the brothers, breathless. “Are we really doing this?”

  “I want to,” Joe says.

  “Me too.” Shane’s voice is quieter than usual. “And, yes, Moira. I’m not jealous, either. I mean I was at first. But now…I feel the same as Joe. I understand why you want him. He’s great. The greatest. But I want you too. And—you know—if it were any other man, I wouldn’t—I don’t know what I’d be. But he’s my brother. I know he loves you. You love him. And I’m happy about that. But I want it too.”

  “From me? You don’t want to find some other woman who—”

  “I just want you, Moira. I love you. I really fucking do.”

  Joe stands, reaching out, pulling my body in front of his. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he whispers, “Don’t leave him hanging, Moira. Tell him. It’s okay.”

  I inhale, holding Joe’s arm. “I love you too. I love Joe too. I love the both of you. But—” I spin away from Joe, needing space to think. “Are we really doing this? I mean, are we going to be the dirty hippies Glen thinks we are? And—and what about my children? What will people think? Will they make fun of my children? And what if my ex finds out?”

  Shane stands, nodding. “Good questions.” He shrugs. “I don’t know what the future will bring. I’m not fond of calling what we have, who we are dirty hippies. I love you. My brother loves you. There’s a lot of respect and love between us. And I want that. But I don’t have children to consider.”

  Joe takes my hand. “Just know this, Moira. I’d protect your kids. I love them already as if they were mine. And I—I think of them as mine.”

  “So do I,” Shane adds. “If anything happens to them, even if you don’t chose us, I’ll always be here to help you with your kids. I’ll do anything for them, for you.”

  “Me too,” Joe whispers.

  Tears cascade down. I hold my hands over my cheeks, this time not willing myself to stop crying. These two men are so beautiful for being my children’s protectors, my protectors, my loves.

  “Maybe—” Shane has to clear his throat. “Maybe it’s best if we give Moira a little time to think. I mean, what Joe and I are offering isn’t…orthodox. And she does have to think about her kids, her ex, even if I think it’s none of his fucking business what you do or who you love.”

  I sigh. “I know that. And I agree, but that doesn’t mean he won’t freak out if he finds out.”

  “True,” Joe says. Although it’s so dark, I think he might be wincing. “I was just going to make a death-threat joke about offing your ex, but that’s not funny.”

  I chuckle anyway. “No, it’s not funny.” I grab his hand and hold it tightly.

  He takes a step forward but stops himself from touching me. “I love you, Moira. With everything I have, I love you. And I think Shane does too. But we’ll give you some time to think.”

  After blinking rapidly and trying to figure out if my heart is hurting or happy, I realize I have no words. So I just nod, even though it’s dark, hoping they can see me anyway. It’s all I can give them in this profound moment.

  29

  This is the first night I’ll sleep without Joe in months. But as I drive to my house, parking in the driveway in a blur, I know I need to be alone. I need to think. And think rather seriously since my life suddenly looks completely different now. However, the need for numb is calling me, more persuasively than usual. So I call Bit while still in my car in my driveway. She’s so good to me. She’s on her way without needing to explain myself too much.

  Walking into my house, I feel like it’s foreign. Joe’s right. As much as I love my home, it’s haunted by my past. I can smile in the entranceway, because one of the memories is of Joe, when he let me pin his giant body against the wall. But when I walk into the front room, the part of the house we never really live in, that’s when it truly hits me how I’m already detaching myself from this house. It’s so odd, this room we never sit in, never talk in, never do much in other than it looks nice. It’s got an upscale, flower-motif couch and matching chairs that are uncomfortable and stiff. It’s formal looking, and I kind of hate it. It’s not me. But is me a copper sink in a farmhouse?

  There’s a soft knock on my door. I don’t know how Bit got here so fast, but, god, am I grateful. I turn and open it, smiling wide. Then I’m a tad shocked to see Eva, holding a basket full of boxed white wine. My cheap brand.

  “Hey, sweetie.” She smiles. “I haven’t seen you in a while, so I figured…” She waves the basket at me, tempting me to the point where I want to cry. I want to kneel
and bawl.

  “Eva! Wow!” I let her in, watching the basket and wondering if I’m going to start shaking.

  “I saw you drive home, saw that you didn’t have the kids, then thought I’d come over.” She glances at me as she walks to my kitchen, where I’m sure she’s ready for me to play hostess as I usually would and grab a couple of glasses and get good and drunk.

  “The kids are with Tony.”

  She nods and keeps walking. I can’t quite feel my feet, but I’m following her. After she sets the big basket on the kitchen island, I almost chuckle because, as inappropriate as it is, I think of my first time with Joe, how he licked my sex almost where the basket is. I really don’t want the basket so close to that area—feeling reverent about that spot—and push the wine farther to the side.

  She sighs, looking at me. “Moira? Have you been crying?”

  I place a hand against one of my cheeks. “God, I must look awful.”

  She comes closer and I have to brace myself because I’m so scared if she gets near then she’ll see what I’ve done. I let both her boys kiss me. I kissed both of them. I can’t believe I did that. It’s insane. But, god, how I wanted it. And I’m so scared she’ll see how her boys are thinking about having me…become…just what were they offering?

  Not that long ago I was a single, lonely mom, thinking my shower head was more than enough of a sexual partner, who maybe drank a tad too much, but I was so…normal. Now I’m sober and thinking of having multiple sexual partners, multiple loves.

  Is this as crazy as I think it is?

  Or do I think it’s crazy because I’m standing in front of the mother of the two men who claim they love me?

  “No. No, you don’t look awful.” Eva touches my cheek. “Well, maybe a little.”

  I laugh.

  She caresses my hand. “I’ve missed you.”

  I inhale. “Me too. I just—”

  “No, it’s me. I wish I could say I’ve been staying away because I’ve been busy. And I have been. But, honestly, I can’t stand anyone’s company because I—I can’t stand being divorced. Well, almost divorced.”

  “Did you get a hearing date?”

  She shakes her head and smiles a little mischievously. “I—I made a few new demands, so it might take a bit more time.”

  I nod and look away, not sure if I can hear her talk about how much money she wants for alimony. I don’t have a problem with alimony. But I do if it’s used as a revenge mechanism, which I feel Eva’s been doing. It makes me sad for Sherman.

  “God, Wyoming’s a great state to get a divorce.” Her smile makes my heart and stomach feel cold. “For a woman, that is. I’m sure it wasn’t always this way, but I can keep asking for more and more alimony, and it seems the judge is fine with it.”

  I nod and take a few steps away, leaning against my range.

  “You don’t approve, do you?” Her voice is suddenly hard. Maybe even angry.

  “What?” I ask, although I’m pretty sure I know what she’s talking about. I just need a moment to compose my thoughts, my face, so I don’t reveal too much.

  “You don’t approve of me getting alimony.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Yes, but you keep acting weird every time I bring it up.” She crosses her arms, and then I see it. I’m not sure if she’s here to be friendly. I think she came over to pick a fight. And I think I know why.

  I shake my head. “Eva, I’m feeling so guilty. I haven’t been a good friend to you during this…time. You needed me and I’ve been—”

  “I wanted you to come with me to my lawyer’s.”

  I nod. “Just ask, and I’ll do it.”

  “I wanted you to come with me to my lawyers several months ago.”

  I shake my head, confused. “Did you ask me to go? I don’t remember—”

  She purses her lips. “Why do I have to ask?”

  I’m silent because the first thing that pops in my head is, “Because I can’t read your mind.” But she knows that. This conversation is about something else, only I’m not sure what. Maybe the fact that I’m sleeping with one of her sons and am making plans to do the same with the other? Am I making those plans?

  She sighs. “You’ve done this before. Gotten divorced. Don’t you know what happens, and when it does?”

  I shake my head. “Every divorce is different. I didn’t ask for alimony, so—”

  “Ha!” She points a finger at me. “I knew you judged me for that.”

  “I’m not judging you, Eva. I got a house instead of alimony. Same, same. I would never judge you.”

  She glances at the kitchen, sighing yet again. “No one wants me.”

  I rush to her, hugging her, especially as I feel her begin to cry. “Are you kidding?” I ask. “Eva, you’re so fucking gorgeous. The men will be lining up. I’m sure they already are.”

  “I’m old.”

  “You are not.”

  “I could be your mother, Moira.”

  I swallow, thinking of her sons who want me, love me. And then I realize it. I’m going to tell her everything.

  No more secrets.

  I pull away, smiling at her. “But you look like you could be my sister.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Can we get fucking drunk already?”

  I take in a huge breath and say it. “Eva, I’m in AA. I haven’t had a drink now for almost three months.”

  At first, her dark, perfectly manicured brows furrow. There’s a flash of anger in her hazel eyes. But then she smiles. “Oh. I see. And you probably think I’m a drunk too.”

  Ouch. Wow, those words hurt more than I thought they would, being called a drunk. I mean, sure, I’ve called myself that. Several times. But no one has ever known how much I drank. No one knew my secret.

  See, this is why keeping secrets feels so good, sometimes. Because there are people who will call you names, and not Jennifer. There are people who will try to cut you down if you show yourself.

  But I know this.

  We talk about it during the meetings, trying to support each other as best we can when our loved ones say cruel things.

  I shake my head, swallowing down the hurt. “I don’t think that at all. I’ve been rather self-involved with my alcoholism, only dealing with my own dependence to it, not paying attention to anyone else. And as I said before, Eva, I’m no one to judge.”

  She shakes her head, twisting her lips in a look I can only call contempt. Aimed right at me.

  I don’t know if I can deal with whatever she’s going to say to me.

  But I’m going to have to.

  Without a drop of wine.

  “I should think not.” Eva snorts. “I know why you’ve been so busy these last couple of months.”

  She knows. She somehow just knows about Joe and me. I mean, he made no bones about the fact that he was storing his clothes at his mother’s but never there in person. Yes, a mother always knows, right?

  I inhale, bracing myself once more.

  “You’re sleeping with Tony again.”

  I blink and laugh. “No, I’m not.”

  I shouldn’t have laughed because she looks really pissed now.

  “I saw you at his house, Moira. I know you were in there for at least two hours.”

  I cock my head back. “Yes, I was there at his house.”

  “For at least two hours. Maybe more.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “And you’re trying to tell me you just talked in that time?”

  Joe must be wearing on me because my head is whirling with thoughts about watching a person’s body language, what they say without meaning to. Why does she know something like that unless she actually saw my car parked at Tony’s? Granted, Eva’s a bit more of a gossip than I am, but I doubt she believes much of it. And I know her well enough to think that the only reason she’s bringing this up is because she actually has hard proof. Not just a rumor.

  Which means…she was there. At Tony’s house.

&nb
sp; “No.” I shake my head. “Tony and I didn’t talk the whole time. He fell asleep.”

  “You expect me to believe that bull? Why are you lying to me? We’re friends.”

  I nod. “Yes, we are. But I’m not lying. However, I can’t help but wonder how you know about my visit with Tony. Were you there?”

  She stiffens. The way her eyes are bulging lets me know I’m asking her something she thinks is unbearably uncomfortable.

  She looks at the basket of wine. “Jesus, can you at least offer me a drink?”

  I fold my arms under my breasts. “Sure. I have milk, water, or juice. What’s your poison?” I’m goading her. But she’s avoiding answering me. Joe says that’s a red flag for lying. She’s also staring me in the eye a tad forcefully, which, again, Joe says is another sign of lying. It’s not that people avoid looking another in the eye. It’s when they look nowhere else. And she’s frozen. Her whole body is stiff, so rigid she looks like she might pop.

  “You’re seriously not going to drink anymore?”

  “Seriously. Eva, I’m an alcoholic. I’m too dependent on it. But that doesn’t mean you are or that I judge you for being able to drink. But I’m still new at this. So while we’re hanging out, I’d really appreciate it if you drank something other than alcohol. Please.” I take in a big breath. “Why were you at Tony’s?”

  Her lips purse and contort. This time not with the look of contempt but more of jumpy agony. Throwing her hands to into the air, she yells, “All right. Fine. Tony and I have been having an affair for a few years now. It started when you were pregnant with Liv. He always breaks it off, swearing how much he loves you, but he comes back to me. He always comes back to me.”

  30

  I can’t help but grip at my t-shirt, right over my heart as my other hand covers my mouth. Hot, stinging tears blur my vision.

  I might be over Tony, hoping he finds happiness, but it kills me to hear how when I was pregnant, he found other women. The woman in front of me, case in point.

  Granted, Eva’s older than both Tony and me. But she’s a timeless knockout. I don’t blame Tony for looking at her. For fucking her though…that’s another matter.