18. Leah
Leah
Pulling up to our—apparently private—part of Hartbrook feels tainted.
It’s been a ghost town here because we’re all just written off in one way or another.
I’m used to being a misfit, but the way Parker’s eyes glaze over when he talks about it is heartbreaking.
Grady is seemingly indifferent, but given his history, seclusion is probably a vacation for him.
They’ve been living with this the whole time.
How sad. No wonder they both appreciate my breakfasts and random check-ins.
It makes me want to dig deeper with Warren and Quincy, but Parker’s warnings are valid.
If they’re related to Henrietta, they’re probably shady…
I’m going to have to play it off when I see them.
I won’t risk losing this.
Weeks of hot-and-cold interactions, Grady nearly running away from me any chance he gets, yearning looks betraying his rigid body language.
These feelings have been anxiously waiting to break free.
I chose to ignore every sign, convinced myself it was all in my head.
Now that I have it, I’ll do everything in my power to protect it.
The instant we stepped foot in that hotel room, I knew something would happen. Man, am I thankful the outcome was a steamy threesome and not a screaming match.
Even now, over twenty-four hours later, my body aches, but I want to do it again. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re the only men I’ve been around, aside from the cousins, or because they’re somehow different. But sleeping with Parker and Grady was world-altering, and I need more.
Grady’s gentle, wonder-filled expression flashes into my mind. The way his eyes widened ever so slightly as I took him was beautiful. No man has ever made me feel like a gift the way he did in that moment. I want him to treat me like a cherished possession over and over again.
Parker—calm, commanding, and reassuring the whole time. Maybe I’m just conditioned to listen to him, but I love his direction and steady praise. Nobody has taken charge in the bedroom like he does. It’s hot as Hell.
Okay, Leah, it was just sex. Don’t get clingy.
Sure, we talked about making this “official” and laid out ground rules. But it’s still terrifying.
They work together to show me true euphoria one time, and I’m hooked. Pathetic. They can’t just do this; put me under their spell. I have free will, dammit. I need to think this through. I can’t give in like this. I won’t.
Until Grady opens the door of my truck and extends a hand to me, until I take it, and let him help me out as if I need it. Wrapping his Neanderthal-sized arm around my waist, he doesn’t hesitate to pull me against his chest, staring into my eyes.
Shit.
Pull away.
Nope, can’t do that.
Not when his gaze falls to my mouth, begging to steal a kiss.
Not when my stomach flips at the vibrant adoration on Parker’s face.
Oh, I’m in trouble. I’ve never been good at denying myself the things I enjoy.
And boy, do I thoroughly enjoy the way Grady’s breath hitches as I step up onto my toes and press my lips to his—like he doesn’t believe I still want him.
Fingers gripping my waist, he leans down and deepens our connection, chest vibrating as his lungs struggle for air.
Parker chuckles next to us. “You can breathe. She couldn’t escape your grasp if she wanted to. But you wouldn’t try anyway, would you, Star?”
Nipping at Grady’s lower lip as we part, I pant, struggling to find my own supply of oxygen. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Well, shit.
Parker could do casual, I’m sure of it. But the grizzly bear with stars in his eyes, smiling down at me? Hell no.
I’m not a monster. How could I ever break this already shattered soul?
This is bad. I’m not good at relationships. Sure, at the surface level, I could be. Spending time with people, taking care of loved ones, and enjoying snuggles at the end of a long day are all things that make for a great relationship and bring me immense joy.
But the deep, ugly truth is that I’m temporary. Something about me loses its appeal after a while. So, I usually enjoy a good time while it lasts, then sever the ties before things get serious.
It protects me.
But this risk? It might just be worth everything.
“Give him a little more, then come here,” Parker says in soft command.
Even if I wanted to protest, my body wouldn’t listen.
Apparently, eager eyes and plump, waiting lips are all the motivation needed for it to betray me.
With absolutely no input from my brain, I’m melting into Grady’s lips once again, humming as his hands travel slowly down my sides.
His actions are less uncertain with each kiss, and I’m living for it.
Parker takes him firmly by the hair, staring hungrily into his eyes. Like topaz and diamond, they twinkle and reflect sparks at one another.
“My turn, but first, you’re mine.” He gives Grady a quick, heated kiss, growling softly against his lips.
Before they get carried away, he turns to me.
“He’s going to get Tally settled, we’re going to get these vehicles unloaded, and then—” His lips claim mine, searing hot.
I nearly moan as he grips my jaw. “—we’re going to meet in my cabin.
There are conversations we need to have, and things we all need to consider. ”
Lady boner gone, vanished without a trace.
Grady adjusts himself and nods, placing a soft kiss on each of our cheeks before unlatching the trailer. Tally whinnies, excited to be free of her temporary prison.
Parker lets out a faint laugh, shaking his head. “She’ll never change, silly girl.”
A tender smile pulls at my lips. “Never. I wouldn’t want her to.”
“Same here. She’s a great horse,” he murmurs, leaning in until his words are whispers against my skin.
“I guess I know how to pick em,” I tease as best as I can with my knees threatening to give out.
“Hmm. Do you now?” His voice drops, velvety and rich.
“I’d like to think so.” I swallow hard as he wraps his hand around my throat with gentle pressure and pins me against the side of my truck, lips crashing together.
In total contrast to his words, this kiss is demanding, hungry, filled with a searing want for more.
More than sex, more than us, more than just a fling.
He presses against me, and I gasp, met with untamed heat in his eyes as I pull back.
Scanning my face, he takes in every freckle as my cheeks flush red-hot.
I’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so seen all at once.
The way his pupils dilate, how the tension he carries in his jaw loosens.
Whatever he finds in my expression gives him the exact information he’s looking for.
His grip on my throat remains steady, and he revels in me.
Like I’m the answer to questions he didn’t know he had.
Blinking away his trance, he softly clears his throat and releases me. “We, uh. We need to get unpacked. Meet at my cabin in thirty.” With a final chaste kiss, he nods and gets in his car, leaving me with all sorts of whiplash.
Grady walks by, leading a very excited Tally. She bobs her head and nickers softly as they approach the pasture gate. My girl loves a good turnout, and after the score we strutted away with yesterday, she’s earned it.
“I’ll close the trailer up and see you at the cabin,” I announce.
He nods with an easy grin, no trace of awkwardness anywhere to be found.
Traitorous stomach flutters return every time he does that.
After so long seeing nothing but scowls from him, the tiny dimples hiding behind his beard, and the slightly jagged tooth on his top left side, are endearing and infinitely attractive.
It also helps that he smells good. Surprisingly so for someone who literally lives in the stables.
Well, I guess he lives with Parker and only pretends to live in the stables. Either way, his citrusy clean scent is intoxicating.
Parker smells expensive—amber, vanilla, a hint of oak. I’m no stranger to men’s cologne, and it’s definitely not any of the cheap ones my brothers wear. He’s damn near edible.
I really am monumentally screwed.
I drag myself through the front door of my cabin, leaning against it as I step inside. Two days away, and it still doesn’t feel like coming home. My things are here, but it’s empty, quiet, unnaturally devoid of the chaos I’m used to.
Tears sting my eyes, fighting to break free, but I won’t let them.
It’s ironic, before coming here, I would hardly ever cry.
For babies and surprises, maybe, but I prefer to fight or fuck out my emotions.
Sure, it’s self-destructive, but so are drugs, so it could always be worse.
Now I’m constantly fighting emotions that I’ve ignored until now, things I’ve never allowed myself to feel. It’s scary, in an oddly exciting way.
I roll my suitcase to the bedroom. Unceremoniously plopping it onto the bed, I pull the zipper and it springs open from the amount of clothes inside.
Why did I pack like I was never coming back?
Maybe because part of me was hoping I wouldn’t.
Is it a bit melodramatic to secretly wish for failure?
Maybe, but what’s a girl to do? This place seriously sucks, and I feel trapped.
Would it be unreasonable to leave and give up?
Ugh, of course it is. I’m not a quitter.
In no world do I have plans of returning home, tail tucked, to give my family the gratification of being right. Hell no.
Staying is infinitely more appealing with the new development, but it’s also far more terrifying. So much more is on the line now. I don’t truthfully know what I want, but I have approximately fifteen minutes to figure it out.
No pressure or anything.
Normally, I’d take my time to make a major decision, laying out a careful breakdown of pros and cons.
But I won’t be afforded that opportunity.
This could get very ugly, and I may break a heart or two—maybe even my own.
The thought of keeping two men interested beyond the honeymoon phase terrifies me, and I don’t get scared.
Confidence is my middle name, at least it should be.
The fact that I’m this worked up is unsettling.
If I could ghost them, it wouldn’t be so bad.
But ghosting them means also abandoning my dreams and taking this opportunity for granted.
I may not like Hartbrook, but I need it.
There’s nowhere else I can go, I’ve tried.
Now I have two extra bodies to accommodate.
Stupid. Just plain idiotic.
I’ve come too far, done too much, proven myself deserving of this. No way in hell I throw out the chance to make something of myself.
God, why didn’t I sleep in my truck instead of sharing that bed?
Because part of you secretly wanted it.
Groaning loudly, I stomp from my bedroom to the bathroom to take a quick shower.
There’s no time to blow-dry my hair or bother with vanity, so some grungy sweats and a tank top are what they’ll get.
Maybe it’ll turn them off, and they’ll realize I’m actually a huge mess under the fun exterior.
It just might show them that I’m not the type of girl men settle down with, sparing me the stress of making this work.
But I want it to work.
I think.
I braid my hair, give myself a “you got this” nod in the mirror, and head for the front door. Only, I stop by the kitchen on my way out. A brand-new package of chocolate chip cookies stares back at me. Everyone loves a snack, right? Surely a little baked goodness will help lessen any blows tonight.
The early evening feels almost eerie as I approach the all-too-familiar cabin. A lump the size of Texas is indefinitely stuck in my throat.
What I wouldn’t do for more time to figure myself out. Staying here is my only option. Quitting is off the table, that much I have decided in the past several minutes. What comes of this talk will determine how awkward my stay will be.
I can do this. And if they want to, I can put in the effort to make it work. They’re good guys. Relationships don’t have to be intimidating. Just gotta…
As I reach up to knock, the door swings open. What I’m met with steals my breath.
Well, shit, I wasn’t prepared for this.