Love Under Two Mavericks

by Cara Covington

  “There was no real pushing involved. I haven’t been the only one giving anything between us a wide berth, either. Lewis was, too. I think last night we just more or less came to the same conclusion. I’d been avoiding them—or rather, getting too close to them—because they will eventually move on. They’ve been upfront about that since they arrived. And I think Lewis, especially, felt the same way.”

  “They have been up front about their intentions. I also happen to know all the guys have been subtly…no, scratch subtly. They’re all men and not capable of being subtle.” She grinned, and Michaela laughed.

  “You’re telling me that the guys like Lewis and Randy and wouldn’t mind seeing them stick around.” They turned toward the large tray of cutlery. Working together, they began to wrap knives and forks in the large square paper napkins that Angela ordered in especially for that purpose. Extra, different, napkins were provided guests if requested. These good, sturdy yet soft ones were just for this purpose.

  “Yes, they would. But that’s got nothing to do with you.” Bailey nodded. “It’s likely, when those two find this place of theirs they’ve been talking about, it won’t be very far away. Certainly, it’ll be a lot closer to Lusty than Montana is.”

  “I can see how they’d all maybe see something new in people they’ve known all their lives. Maybe what they’re feeling is that with all of them removed from everything that’s familiar in Montana, they’ve all gotten to know each other again without any of those blinders.”

  “I think you’re right,” Bailey said. “And from everything I know, it’s likely that coming here—to the way that family is treated here—has changed them, those that have been here for a while. Healed some wounds and opened some minds.”

  “It probably has.” Michaela recalled the evening that Jenny told her a bit about what her guys went through before they came to Texas. Then she’d said that the way people were here, in Parker’s words, “was the answer to their most cherished dream.”

  Maddie, one of the summer students who worked with Patrick in the kitchen, waved as she came in the back door and headed straight there.

  With cleaning cloths and a baskets filled with the now wrapped cutlery, Michaela and Bailey wiped tables, set out the wrapped sets, and saw to it the dining room was ready for guests. Then they headed into the kitchen to discover what the soup of the day would be and to have a quick cup of coffee—with their usual five minutes to spare.

  Bailey turned on the sound system and ensured it wasn’t too loud. Setting their cups in the dishwasher, they headed out to unlock the front door. Within five minutes, the first guests arrived.

  And we’re off and running.

  Michaela had avoided thinking about her evening ahead because it made her twitchy to think about it. Lewis and Randy were meeting her at seven tonight. Since this was the one Saturday a month that the town had its dance at the community center, and that was where they were going, she’d brought her best jeans and tee and boots to dance in with her this morning.

  She’d have a quick bite at the end of her shift, change, and then head straight to the dance.

  The guys had been a mite ticked that she insisted on driving herself to their date and then driving herself home at the conclusion of the night. But in the end, they’d bowed to her only qualifier for their evening together. She wasn’t really sure why she’d insisted on that one stipulation.

  Just my very cautious side holding out against the inevitable. Of course, when Lewis had asked her why, she’d shrugged and held his gaze. The fact that he’d given her a very sly grin, something she’d expect more of Randy than him, might have been his way of telling her he knew.

  He knows that, after an evening spent dancing with the two of them, I’d probably bring them into my house, and then into my bed.

  Michaela dismissed that thought and instead focused on the job in front of her.

  I’m just going to keep on living in my own little fantasy world for a while longer. That world where she believed she was in complete control of her own life and that there really was no such thing as inevitability—or fate.

  * * * *

  “Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

  Lewis had been focusing his attention on the laneway into the parking area beside the community center. He could just see it through this window, and that was good enough. They’d opted to wait inside until Michaela arrived before heading out to assist her out of her car.

  It wasn’t much of tradeoff when they both would have preferred to have picked her up. Picked her up and taken her home and….yeah, he knew why she’d insisted on this little bit of boundary-making. Of course, neither he nor Randy believed her insistence on a little self-reliance was a deal breaker.

  If that’s what she’s offering, we’ll take it.

  At Randy’s announcement, he turned to look at his best friend. Lewis couldn’t recall a time when he’d seen him appear quite so… nervous? Excited? He shook his head. “She won’t change her mind.” Though he had wondered that himself as they were parking in the lot beside the building.

  “Well, she wouldn’t let us pick her up. Doesn’t that show a lack of commitment on her part?”

  Lewis looked at Randy, who met his gaze for only a moment, then looked down. Not in time to hide the way his cheeks turned pink, but that was okay. Why the hell he’d use that C word is beyond me.

  “I’ve never seen you like this, brother.”

  Randy exhaled. “Probably because I’ve never felt like this.” He met Lewis’s gaze. “I’ll admit that I noticed her even before we met her. It was as if something about Michaela just drew me to her. I thought it would fade, though. Because…well, because we’re not settled, yet. We’re not ready yet.” He snapped his mouth shut as if he’d said too much then shrugged. “It’s not fading. What I feel around her or right now, waiting for her, it’s not fading, Lewis.”

  “I know. It’s getting stronger.”

  “For you too?”

  “Yes, for me too.”

  To hell with waiting inside and out of sight. What had that decision been about, anyway? Them, not wanting Michaela to know how badly they wanted to be with her? Or them, lying to themselves?

  Maybe they’d scare her off if she knew just how much they really wanted to be with her.

  He turned around and headed to the door. Giving it a good push, he headed out and, with Randy following close behind, reached the driveway to the parking lot just as Michaela’s Honda made the turn into it. She was going to know the first time either of them pulled her into their arms to dance exactly how much they wanted to be with her. Lewis knew he’d not be able to hide his reaction to holding her.

  And he knew Randy probably wouldn’t be able to, either.

  What the fuck are you doing, man? You said you weren’t going to fall into this trap. You told Randy that before you left Montana. This was not what you were coming here for.

  All true. Also true, they weren’t thinking about getting down on one knee and popping the question to her. They were going to see her, dance with her, and maybe, if the chemistry was right all the way around, they’d have some good times between the sheets with her.

  This was the twenty-first century, and unmarried people the world over took opportunities to indulge in recreational sex all the time.

  Lewis pushed away the sense that that had been a tawdry thought. He pushed away everything else except setting one foot in front of the other.

  Michaela turned off her car, and Lewis opened her door, extended his hand, and waited.

  She met his gaze and something almost visceral passed between them. Then, so slowly he wondered if it was even going to happen, she laid her hand in his.

  It took every bit of his willpower not to yank her to him, to let her power herself out of the vehicle. Still holding her hand, he took two steps back from the car. Randy closed the car door for her, but she didn’t take her gaze away from Lewis.

  Raising one eyebrow, daring her to deny what th
ey both knew was going to happen next, he gently, inexorably, drew her to him.

  “Hello, Michaela.”

  “Hello, Lewis.”

  He felt her trembling. A wave of something that felt damn near spiritual swept through him.

  “Say my name again.”

  “Lewis.”

  He closed his mouth over hers before the sound of the last syllable of his name faded into the ether. He drank her down in one long, tongue-delving, honey-dripping kiss. Her flavor went straight to his bloodstream, more potent than the best Tennessee whiskey. Lewis Benedict knew one nanosecond of total panic, of knowing that somehow, this moment, this woman, had been inevitable.

  Then she wrapped her arms around him, held him tight, and kissed him back.

  Lewis realized right then and there that his future had been set. Lost and found in the same heartbeat, he weaned his lips from hers and met her gaze again.

  Even as she trembled, he turned her gently over to his best friend—his brother more surely than some who claimed the title were. He nodded to Randy and then watched, entranced and overjoyed, when Randy kissed Michaela for the first time. To his eyes, she melted into that man as surely as she had melted into him. Randy was most certainly as lost as Lewis had been, and he hoped beyond hope he’d also been granted the same epiphany.

  Randy gave Michaela a couple of butterfly kisses then stepped back. As Michaela dropped her arms, Lewis reached for her left hand.

  “Let’s go inside. We’ll see how we do this to music.”

  “They haven’t started playing already?”

  “Why, sweet thing, did you hear music, too, while we were smooching?” Lewis hadn’t often teased a woman, but there was something about this woman that pulled a lot from him he hadn’t known was there.

  She met his gaze and tilted her head. “And if I did?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Then I would say that all three of us really are on the same page. So, let’s take it slow and see where this story leads us.”

  Her smile, a bit wistful, a bit self-mocking, did something to his emotions. Lewis Benedict knew without a single doubt that he was falling—and there wasn’t a damn thing he wanted to do about it.

  Chapter Five

  “Are we doing okay?”

  Randy’s question reached her ear through the echo chamber of his chest. That was where her head was resting as he led her through the band’s rendition of Jimmie Allen’s “Make Me Want To.” The song wasn’t necessarily a slow-dance song.

  But that didn’t matter one bit. Not to her and Randy and not, as far as she could tell, to many of the other dancers on the floor with them, either.

  Michaela had been dancing most of the night. The men had taken turns being her dance partner, and both Lewis and Randy were really good dancers.

  “We’re great.” Even though she’d been comfy with her head where it had been, she nonetheless raised it. Straightening up completely, she slipped her arms from around Randy’s waist to around his neck. This was better for looking at him, and yes, both men were very good to look at, too.

  “This has been a great evening, Randy.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way.” He brushed his hands across her butt, grinned, then returned them to her waist. Then his grin slowly morphed into a look so thoughtful, so tender, she felt a catch in her throat.

  “The words of this song remind me of that first moment when I saw you at the roadhouse. You hadn’t been in the dining room when we arrived, but…I guess I felt you before I saw you. Please don’t think that’s a hokey line. It’s not.”

  “I don’t, because it really was the same for me. I came out of the kitchen and into the dining room, and I felt…something different. I didn’t know what, not until I carried that tray of chicken wings to the back. And then I saw you and Lewis, and I knew.”

  “You fought us some.”

  They continued moving slowly, and for about a second, Michaela thought about giving him a throwaway line. She’d only had one beer, and that had been earlier on. They were getting close to when there’d be a buffet and coffee or sweet tea and, after that, the last set. Others had told her how these monthly community center dances played out. So she knew they were coming to the end of the evening.

  Even as she was driving herself to the community center—once she got her finicky starter to work—Michaela had understood that, by accepting a date with both Lewis and Randy, she was agreeing to…well, exploring a relationship with both men. And while she didn’t know how this relationship would go, she did know she didn’t want to be the woman who spouted throwaway lines, especially in serious moments.

  “It scared me. What I felt, meeting you both, being with you both. I thought it would fizzle out—like a fire on a cold night when you don’t add fuel to it. So I thought I would avoid throwing wood on it.”

  “That was us, too.”

  Lewis’s heat warmed her back. The band was beginning another song. Her mind replayed the announcement. One more they said, before their break. A special request, they said. Then the music started, with a keyboard intro, and she knew.

  This song writer got it right, because yeah, every time our eyes meet, I feel it in a way I’ve never felt anything, ever.

  The band’s rendition of “Amazed,” by Lonestar, qualified as a real slow dance. She thought they’d stop moving so she could change partners. Michaela lowered her arms to do just that, and then when Lewis turned her, she spun, slowly, gracefully. And she sighed when she felt Randy stay with them, press close. Dancing? No, it was more like swaying, the way she’d seen several triads “dance” this night already.

  A triad. That’s us, right now.

  “I recognize that slight panicked look, baby girl. I’ve seen it in my own mirror. Breathe.” Lewis’s voice, deep, steady, helped her find her balance.

  She did as he suggested and took in a deep breath. And then she took another.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes.” It was better. It helped, knowing that what she was feeling they were feeling, too.

  “Let’s have this one dance, the three of us. Then we’ll eat and party a little with all those cousins who came out to guard your virtue this night.”

  That made her smile. “Is that why so many of the people I’ve come to know since I’ve been back in the area are here tonight?”

  “Apparently it’s one of the family’s newer traditions,” Randy said. “One that has been endured by Jessops and Kendalls—and now by Benedicts.”

  “I see. That’s why the men were chuckling about your refusal to have us all sit, men at one end of our line of tables, and women at the other.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re honoring your request to provide your own transportation to and from this date. But while we’re here with you, we’re here with you.”

  “Thank God.”

  The song wound down, and then she found herself between them, her hands held, as they walked together back to their table.

  “You sit. We’ll serve you,” Lewis said.

  Apparently, Bailey’s husbands, Chance and Logan, felt the same way. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Shar wave her husbands toward the buffet, too.

  “So…everything okay?” Bailey’s question, softly asked, told Michaela that her friend meant more than a casual inquiry.

  “Yes, Everything’s good. That last dance? That was very nice.” The feeling of dancing with both her dates was one she’d hang onto and examine when she was alone. She looked from Bailey to Shar. “It looked strange, when I saw y’all dancing that way, but it felt right. This whole night has been good.”

  “You should probably know that Lewis spoke to Jesse. Since we live closest to you, he asked us to make sure you got home okay.”

  Michaela tilted her head. “Well.” And because a couple of contradictory emotions hit her at the same time, she blew out a breath and chuckled. “We women really can be perverse sometimes, can’t we?”

  “Of course,” Ba
iley said.

  “One of our best skills,” Shar agreed. “What form has your perverseness taken?”

  “Half of me is impressed they’re not pushing to come home with me tonight. And half of me is wondering what’s wrong with me that they’re not.”

  “My professional opinion is free tonight, and tonight only. Want it?” Shar’s eyes were kind, and her cheeks revealed a dimple, the kind Michaela had always wished she’d been born with.

  Michaela knew Shar was a psychologist who worked primarily with children and women who’d been through one form of trauma or another. She liked Shar, a lot.

  “Absolutely. I’ll take all the advice I can get.”

  “My advice is, let us see you home tonight. Lewis’s suggestion shows respect for your boundaries and, at the same time, allows for his protective instincts to be exercised. It doesn’t get much better than that, my friend. But after tonight? Having gotten to know both Lewis and Randy, I can tell you they’re good guys. You need to decide if you can trust them, or not. If you want to be with them, or not.”

  “I already know I trust them. Thank you for the advice. And for the escort, home.”

  “Good girl.”

  She hadn’t noticed the guys approach. Lewis’s words were the ones she’d heard other men use with their girlfriends or wives and, when she’d heard them, she had chafed at. But right this moment, she didn’t feel like chafing. She kind of felt as if he’d just praised her.

  He set a plate down on the table in front of her. Randy set a glass of sweet tea down for her. Since both Bailey and Shar had vacated their recently borrowed chairs, Lewis resumed his seat to her right. Randy took a moment to take the tray he’d carried back to the buffet area, then returned and sat on her left.

  “Wow, this is a good selection.” There were cold cuts, some delicious-looking ribs, beans, and a couple of salads. A slice of cornbread sat on the edge of her plate.

  “There are desserts yet to come,” Lewis said.