9. Rick
9
RICK
The gallery’s books look different after hours. Fifteen years of building this place, and sometimes I still see that run-down storefront we started with. Now we’ve got waiting lists six months deep, clients flying in from both coasts.
My phone buzzes. Teller’s name lights up the screen.
“Little late for a social call.”
“Since when do we do social?” But there’s a lightness in his voice that wasn’t there a year ago. Amazing what having a family can do. “Just wanted to give you a heads-up—Death’s Head’s been sniffing around your territory. Again.”
I lean back in my chair, studying the expansion plans on my desk. “They trying to start trouble?”
“Nah. Piper accidentally hit their VP’s kid with a water balloon at the park. Had to explain that my five-year-old isn’t actually declaring war.” He chuckles. “Though she’s got damn good aim.”
“Takes after her old man?”
“Men,” he corrects, and there’s pride in his voice. “All three of us. Speaking of multiple dads, how are your brothers handling the new employee?”
My gut tightens. Should’ve known he’d notice. “That obvious?”
“It sure is. I know what it feels like to be in your shoes. Plus, you’ve got that look…” He lets the sentence hang.
“What look?”
“You’ve got that look. The same one I had before Ayla. Before we figured out sharing was the answer.”
Movement catches my eye. Chase is in his studio again.
“It’s complicated.”
“Always is.” Something crashes in the background, followed by a child’s laughter. “Shit, gotta go. Baby’s mobile.”
The call ends, leaving me with thoughts I’ve been avoiding. My brothers have changed since Evie arrived. Hell, we all have.
Chase hasn’t looked at another woman in weeks. His usual parade of clients-turned-conquests has dried up, replaced by endless sketches of one face, one body.
And Zane? My wild youngest brother now plans his day around school pickup. He knows Violet’s favorite ice cream flavor and helps Daisy with math. Yesterday, I caught him building a toy garage because “the princess’s cars need somewhere to park.”
The old photos on my wall catch my attention—three brothers on motorcycles, young and angry at the world. Now, Chase owns the most successful tattoo studio in three states, and Zane’s designs sell for thousands. We’ve grown up and built something real.
But we’ve never quite figured out relationships. Women either run screaming from our unique dynamic or try to drive wedges between us. The ones who stay…well, they never stay long.
Watching Teller’s crew figure it out gave me hope. Their little girl calls all three men daddy without confusion. Their family works because they stopped fighting for what they all wanted.
The sound of an engine draws me to my office window. Zane’s pulling in, coming from Evie’s place again. His smile says everything as he dismounts his bike.
“Late night?” Chase appears in my doorway, sketch pad under his arm.
“Just thinking.” I turn from the window. “We should head home. Talk about this situation.”
Chase’s eyebrows rise. “What situation?”
“You know what.” I gather my keys. “The way you look at her. The way Zane spends every free moment with her girls. The way I…”
“Can’t keep your eyes off her?” Chase smirks. “Yeah, noticed that.”
At home, we gather in the den, our usual spot for serious conversations. When Zane joins us, still wearing Evie’s scent on his clothes, the tension thickens.
“So.” Chase pours whiskey. “We finally talking about her?”
“About damn time.” Zane accepts his glass.
“Speaking of watching.” Chase settles into his chair. “There’s something you should know about my window.”
As Chase explains about Evie’s late-night shows, I watch Zane’s face darken. “You’ve both been watching her?”
“Not planned,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“That’s not the point. Since when do we keep secrets?”
“We don’t.” Chase leans forward. “Which is why we’re talking now. About all of it.”
The whiskey burns familiar paths as silence settles. Years of sharing everything—business, dreams, even women sometimes. But this feels different.
“She’s not like the others,” Zane says finally. “Her girls…”
“Are already part of our lives.” Chase nods. “And she fits. With all of us.”
I study my glass, choosing words carefully. “You both want her.”
It’s not a question. Doesn’t need to be.
“Like you don’t?” Chase challenges.
“That’s not?—”
“Cut the bullshit, Rick.” Zane stands, restless. “We all want her. Question is, what are we going to do about it?”
More silence. More whiskey.
“Could work,” Chase speaks slowly. “We’ve shared before.”
“This would be different.” I set my glass down. “More permanent.”
“Good.” Zane’s voice holds certainty. “She deserves permanent.”
No more games. No more pretending we don’t all feel it.
Chase checks his wristwatch and rises suddenly. “Need to show you something, little brother.”
“What?”
“It’s almost ten.” Chase grins. “Time for the show.”
The lights are off in Evie’s bedroom, but we know she’s home.
“Just wait,” Chase murmurs.
When her bedroom lights flick on, Zane’s breath catches. She stands in full view, with no curtains. Her hair falls loose around her shoulders as she begins unbuttoning her blouse.
“Christ.” Zane moves closer to the window. “She knows?”
“That we watch?” Chase’s voice roughens. “Yeah. Puts on quite a show, doesn’t she?”
Each movement is deliberate. She turns, giving us her profile as she lets the blouse fall. The lace beneath barely covers anything.
“She’s done this before?” Zane can’t look away. None of us can.
I watch her hands move to the zipper of her skirt. “Like clockwork.”
The skirt pools at her feet. She stretches, arching her back in a way that makes all three of us shift uncomfortably.
“And she wants…” Zane swallows hard. “All of us?”
“She hasn’t said it directly.” Chase’s fingers twitch toward his sketchbook. “But the signs are there.”
On cue, Evie turns toward our window. Even from here, her smile is wicked. She knows exactly what she’s doing to us.
“We’ve shared women before.” I voice what we’re all thinking. “But this feels…”
“More.” Chase finishes. “This isn’t just about sex.”
“It’s about family.” Zane tears his gaze from the window. “Her girls, our life here.”
We watch her complete her show, each lost in thoughts of possibility. When her lights go out, none of us move for a long moment.
“So what now?” Zane breaks the silence.
“Now we talk about this like the grown men we are.” I head for the door. “Downstairs. With more whiskey.”
In the living room, the familiar comfort of leather and wood grounds us. Three brothers who’ve faced everything together, facing this too.
“If we do this,” I start carefully, “we do it right. No games, no competition.”
“All in or nothing.” Chase nods. “Like everything else.”
“The girls have to come first.” Zane’s priorities have shifted, and it shows. “We can’t mess this up for them.”
“Or for her.” I think of the shadows in Evie’s eyes sometimes. “She’s running from something. Has to be.”
“Then we will protect her.” Chase’s voice holds certainty. “All of us.” I raise my glass.
We drink to that. To maybe finding what Teller’s crew has—family, love, completion.
“You really think she’ll say yes?” Zane asks later when the whiskey’s almost gone.
Chase grins. “Brother, I think she’s already chosen all of us. We just have to catch up.”