15. Brent
CHAPTER 15
Brent
T he bruise hurts. My chest hurts. But cows don’t stop for anyone.
I do about a half day with them before I come back. The morning is still haunting me, especially the… domestic nature of it all.
The rollercoaster of having that moment, then having it all go to hell with Tate’s comment, is haunting me too.
Riding up to the house, I scour the driveway for Piper’s truck, but all I see is Tate’s ancient Mustang. Great. He must have fucked it up again.
Fully prepared to give Tate a lecture when I walk in the door, I freeze when I hear the sound of feminine laughter coming from the kitchen. Cautiously, I take my boots off and creep in.
The way my whole body sags with relief when I see Piper sitting in our goddamn kitchen is… Well. I can’t believe that she’s here.
Tate catches my eye, looking at me from the kitchen. “Welcome back, Brent.”
“Piper,” I mumble.
Do I need to apologize, too? I mean, I guess I could have punched Tate in the face or something?—
“Tate apologized for being a dick. He did a really good job at it,” Piper says with a shy smile.
Blood riots through me.
“Oh, did he?” I ask.
It must come out as more of a growl, because Piper shakes her head. “Not like that, Brent. He genuinely apologized, and then… the plumber came.”
God damn it. The fucking plumber.
“Good news or bad news?” Tate asks, giving me a shit-eating grin that makes me feel like even the good news is bad news.
“Bad news,” I grunt.
Piper sighs. “My whole house is going to be out of hot water for at least a week. He took the old one apart today, and he ordered a new one. Best case scenario is a week, worst case is a month.”
Shit. “A month? Piper, I could fix?—”
“You would literally have to watch a YouTube video, and while I’m sure you could figure it out, this is a nice old man who is part of our community. I’m happy to pay him to fix my water heater,” Piper cuts me off.
I glance at Tate, who shrugs. “Okay. We’re stimulating the local economy. So what’s the good news?”
His smirk tells me everything I need to know. “Piper’s staying with us.”
“For a month?”
“A week,” she clarifies. “If it turns into longer, then it turns into longer, but for now, a week for sure.”
A week. One full week of Piper in our space. A week of her, constantly being around. A week of…
I frown. “Piper. There’s no way you can sleep on the couch for a week.” Our couch isn’t that comfortable to begin with, and after a few days she’s going to go crazy sleeping on it.
Piper bites her lip. Her nose wrinkles. I can tell I’m either going to love or hate what comes out of her mouth next.
“Tate suggested that I… take turns. Sleeping in the same bed with each of you.”
My heart feels like the horse kicked me all over again. “Piper, that’s okay. I’ll sleep on the couch?—”
“You literally got kicked by a horse, Brent. You can sleep in your fucking bed, and Piper will sleep next to you. You already did it once, so what’s the problem?” Tate grins.
The problem is that I barely survived last night.
Piper was so close to me. I didn’t get any sleep between that and the fact that my fucking ribs were aching like a motherfucker all night. Having a rock-hard erection while your whole chest feels like it’s falling apart is not exactly ideal.
“Okay.” I can do this. I can figure this the fuck out.
“Okay. Well. On that note, I did bring some things, so I’m going to hang them up in whatever closet has the most room. Oh. By the way. I’ll need to go back every day to check on the girls and Reginald.”
That goddamn rooster. “We can do that for you, Piper.”
“Why would you check on my own chickens for me?” she says with a small smile.
Fuck.
“I think what Brent is saying is that one of us would be more than happy to accompany you to see your gorgeous flock of specially bred French chickens,” Tate says. “I know that I could use the eggs in some of the meals I have planned.”
Piper stands, snapping her fingers. “Great idea, Tate. We can do that and showcase some of your recipes, so that we can get them ready for the Harvest Bash.”
I blink. “The what now?”
Tate waves at her. “Go shower, Piper. I’ll catch Brent up.”
“Okay. Thank you,” she says.
When I hear the upstairs shower start, I turn to Tate. “What the fuck is a Harvest Bash?”
“It’s the farmers market’s end-of-season celebration. Piper thinks we should have a booth, and we’ll draw some foot traffic for the farm.”
Oh. “That’s smart.”
He grins. “That’s Piper.”
I tap my fingers. “Anything else?”
Tate’s eyes glitter. “I think she wants all of us.”
I freeze.
Tate leans forward, his eyes practically glowing. “She told me she couldn’t choose.”
“Choose?”
“Like, if we wanted to take our relationship to a different place. A different level. She said she wouldn’t be able to choose just one of us.”
My heart thunders to a stop. I look at Tate, afraid to ask for more information.
“Really?” I manage to grit out.
Tate nods, his head bobbing like a goddamn toy. “Brent. She can see it. She can see that we’d all be good together. We just have to show her that it would be good. That we can work as more than friends.”
I shake my head. “No. She wants friendship, Tate. She’s said that a million times?—”
“Have we ever asked her?’ Tate asks. “Have any of us ever point blank asked her if she would want more than a friendship? If she’d be interested in sex, or taking it to a more romantic level than that?”
I pause. “No, I just always thought…”
“We thought a lot of things, Brent. I don’t think any of them are true.”
Fuck. If what he’s saying is true, then there’s a real chance here. To have a life that we’ve always wanted. To have Piper. Forever.
“Shit,” I murmur, running my hand through my hair. “Shit, Tate. Where do we go from here?”
Tate’s lips curl into a devious grin. “We have to show her that it could work, man. We have to show her how good it would be… with all of us.”
Okay. I can do that.
“What are you making for dinner?” I ask.
Tate shrugs. “No fuckin’ clue. I’ve been so excited that I can’t think about it.”
“Got it. Okay. I’m going to go clean up. Then we can… try to convince her?” I say.
I realize it’s a question. Not a statement.
Tate taps his fingers on the kitchen island. Then he freezes. His eyes meet mine.
“Whose shower do you think she’s in?”
I refuse to stalk Piper in my own home. Not when she’s been recently put out of hers, and not when things feel so… tender between us. So, I wait for the shower to cut off before I head up the stairs.
Thankfully, Piper appears to be in another room. I strip, quickly hopping in my shower, the heat both a searing pain and a balm to the bruising across my chest. It does nothing, however, to calm the blood that’s rushing to my cock.
Piper. God. All I want is her. All I think about is her. I can’t fucking believe that Tate thinks we have a shot at convincing her that we are going to work.
Mostly, I can’t believe that I haven’t gotten my own chance with her yet, either.
My hand drifts down, circling my rigid cock. I groan, the water rushing over me, as I think of Piper touching me. Her lips wrapping around me. Her hands, cupping my balls, kneading them.
Fuck me. Would she take her time, feeding me into her mouth one inch by aching inch? Or would she even let me? Would she prefer to bend over so I could fuck her from behind?
I groan again, much louder this time. One of my hands shoots out to the side of the shower, my fingers wide on the tile, as I slowly pump myself.
“Piper,” I grunt. God, I can picture it. Her on her knees, her soft hands on my thighs, her lips…
“Brent! Oh my god, I’m here!”
I freeze. Piper is in the bathroom.
I don’t have time to move. Don’t have time to hide. Because she throws open the shower curtain, her face tight with concern. “Brent! I heard you call my name, are you?—”
I see the exact moment that Piper figures out that I’m fine. I’m real fucking fine.
Her eyes go round as she realizes what I’m doing. Her pretty lips part, a perfect pink circle, and the sight makes me twitch. Which, of course, Piper notices. Because she’s staring at me, buck naked in the shower. Jacking myself off to thoughts of her.
Her nose wrinkles, and she backs away. “Oh. I’m… Um… Sorry… I’ll just… you need…”
Piper grabs the shower curtain, trying to pull it back, but my hand snaps out and holds it.
“Stay,” I rumble.
Piper hesitates.
I shut the shower off. Both hands are free now, but I carefully balance myself as I get out of the shower. I’m dripping onto the floor of the bathroom, and I don’t give a single fuck.
Because Piper’s eyes haven’t left my cock this entire time.
I swear, I can feel her gaze like a brand. She’s staring at me, and when she swallows and licks her lips, I think I might die from arousal.
“You like what you see?” I rasp.
Piper meets my eyes, just for a second. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
“I like it,” I say.
She freezes. For a second, I’m worried that I’m fucking it up again. That she doesn’t actually want this, and Tate is wrong. The apology is on the tip of my tongue. The shame of this moment is knocking on the edge of my awareness.
Then, I see a shadow in the bathroom door behind.
“Oh, I think she does like it,” Tate says.
Piper whips around and looks at him.
“Tate!” she squeaks.
Tate looks at me, ignoring Piper. “I think she does like it, Brent.”
“Why do you think that?” I growl.
Piper is looking between us like she’s caught in a pickle between first and second.
Tate gives her an indulgent smile. “Because when I had her bent over the kitchen island, she asked what would happen if you walked in. When I told her that you’d join, do you know what happened?”
I shut my eyes. I swear, I’ve never been this close to coming in my life. “What, Tate?”
Piper licks her lips. Her cheeks are flushed, and her pupils are blown, and I can tell she’s turned on.
Tate looks at her. “Can I tell him?”
It’s just a moment. Just a heartbeat. But Piper nods.
Looking back at me, Tate’s smile turns to pure wickedness.
“She came, Brent. She came hard, squeezing the life out of my fucking cock, because she wanted you to walk in and join.”