Sated in Ink

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Holland: Your sister, Arden, and Madison are here. With tequila.

  Ethan: Dear God. They are good people, but I will murder Bristol for you if needed.

  Holland: Don’t spill blood because of me…but should I let them in?

  Ethan: They are some of the best people I know, and if you want them in your life, they’ll have your back. They’re amazing women. I have to go, but you don’t have to let them in if you don’t want to. But if you want a chance at new friends, then do so.

  Holland: I trust you, but you owe me.

  Ethan: Always, babe.

  Holland just shook her head, slid her phone into her pocket, and then said the only thing she could. After all, she was trying to live in the moment. “Margaritas?” she asked, and the other three women grinned widely.

  “I knew we were going to like you.”

  She opened the door and let them in, quickly sending another text to Ethan, saying that they would talk about this later.

  She hadn’t realized that she was in the group text until Lincoln replied with:

  Lincoln: What the hell did you do, Montgomery?

  Ethan: The girls found her. But it’s fine, right?

  Holland looked at the women in her living room, all of them appearing a little nervous. But then again, so was she.

  Holland: It’ll be fine. But you’re going to have to make it up to me.

  She grinned as she typed it, and the girls laughed.

  Holland looked up, blushing again. “What?”

  “Talking to the guys?” Arden asked, setting down the bag on the coffee table.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You look happy,” Arden said.

  Holland just kept smiling. And she was happy. But she didn’t know how long it would last.

  “Anyway,” Bristol said quickly in the silence of that statement. “Finish your text, and we’ll make some margaritas. I brought chips and guac, too.”

  Bristol shook the other bag, and Holland’s stomach growled.

  “I skipped lunch, so that sounds great. As long as you don’t poison me.”

  Madison let out a nervous giggle, and Holland’s eyes widened.

  “No, no. No poison. It’s just, I don’t know how I always end up in these schemes with Bristol.”

  “You weren’t there when she showed up at my house the first time,” Arden put in.

  “She really did this to you?”

  “Wanted to make sure that I had a girl to talk to since, apparently, dating a Montgomery is a big thing.” Arden rolled her eyes, and Holland couldn’t help but smile.

  “But dating a Montgomery and a McClard is even bigger.”

  “Well, the McClards might not be as vast as the Montgomerys, but we come with our own issues. And I know all Lincoln’s childhood stories.” Madison grinned.

  “Oh?” Holland asked.

  “And I have all the childhood stories of Ethan,” Bristol added.

  “I don’t have any of those, but I can tell you how great they are now. Or I can just listen to you if you don’t actually like them and you want out. If you do, we’ll find a way.” Arden smiled widely.

  Holland just laughed as Bristol went kind of pale, shaking her head. “We’re not going to do that.” She paused. “Okay, if you need to, we will. Though you sound like things are going amazing, and you’re with two of the most incredible people in my life. And since you apparently don’t have any girlfriends anymore thanks to that evil sister of yours and your ex, we’re here for you.”

  Tears filled Holland’s eyes, and she shook her head quickly to keep them at bay.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

  “You’re not. Not really. I just…thank you. It’s been a weird few months. I’d love to get to know you guys. Even if I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “Well, I don’t think you’re supposed to know what you’re doing with things like this. But that’s fine. Now, let’s have some margaritas, and you can tell us all about how you met Ethan and Lincoln.”

  “You don’t know the story?”

  “We know what the guys told us, but we want to know everything, and we want to hear it from you.” Arden just held out her hand. Holland looked at it before taking it. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  The girls smiled, and Holland knew that, yes, this was probably a mistake. But she’d been making them over and over again lately it seemed, so why not keep going? She did need someone to talk to, and even though these three were probably the worst women to talk to because of their connections to the guys, she didn’t have anyone else to confide in, and she could just tell that she was going to like them. She was trying to trust her judgment more than she had in the past, so maybe it was time to listen to her gut. And perhaps she could be okay with that. At least a little.

  Chapter 12

  Lincoln hovered over his sketchbook, flipping from page to page, working on one angle and then the next. Ideas were flowing, sliding through his body and out of his fingers as if his gift had a mind of its own. It wasn’t what he needed to be working on. It wasn’t part of the plan for this commission. But it was something. And considering that he hadn’t sketched or painted anything in over two weeks, he was going to take this as it came.

  He closed his eyes and rolled his head over his shoulders before getting back to it. His back ached, and his hand was starting to cramp, but he didn’t want to stop.

  He just kept sketching over and over again.

  The strong line of Ethan’s jaw. The long line of Holland’s neck. Her curves. The way she looked when she hovered over Ethan, the dark look in her eyes. The way Ethan parted his lips when he came. The way Holland gasped, her mouth parted just like Ethan’s as he sucked on her nipples.

  Lincoln grew hard and groaned as he kept drawing, knowing nobody but he would ever see these.

  They would never sell, he didn’t want them to, and he would burn them if he had to. But he couldn’t get the images out of his head. Mostly because he couldn’t get Ethan and Holland out of his head. And he was going to see them again tonight.

  It had been four days since he’d been with them. Almost a week since he had touched them. But they all had things to do, and he had work to complete. Not that he was actually doing any of it. But he was drawing again. And if he worked through this block, maybe he would be able to get what he needed to done.

  He hated the fact that he wasn’t actually working. He wasn’t a nine-to-five-jobber.

  He’d work on what he had been commissioned for later. But first, he needed to get this out. Lincoln worked when he could, sometimes twenty-four hours straight, even though he didn’t do that as much nowadays as he had when he was younger. His body couldn’t handle it anymore. But sometimes that was all his brain wanted. That’s what he did.

  Right now, though, he just kept drawing. And then he blindly searched for a colored pencil, something that wasn’t just black or gray. He looked down and picked the perfect shade for the red of Holland’s hair.

  A smile curved his lips, and he added some of that color to one of the sketches. The one where she was bent over Ethan, and he smiled up at her.

  Lincoln was aware that he wasn’t part of any of these images. Rather he was the voyeur, the one watching, standing off to the side so Holland and Ethan could be together.

  He didn’t know if that’s what would actually happen in real life, but he could see it. Because for all that Lincoln wanted to imagine that this could be permanent between the three of them, that this could work, he knew that they were just a stack of cards. A house that could fall with a brush of wind, or a bad decision.

  And he was really good at making those.

  He didn’t know what would happen between them, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. Because if what they had right now shattered, he’d lose Ethan, lose his connection to the Montgomerys. He’d lose Holland. He’d lose that spark that they’d found together. All of them.

  And he didn’t want
to do that.

  Lincoln added more red to her hair with a little bit of brown, and then layered a deeper shade of red. She had so many facets to her, so many different colors in her hair, and nuances to the expressions on her face. He could never tell exactly what she was thinking, and he liked that. He loved the fact that he had to dig deeper to try and figure it out. Ethan was the same way, even though Lincoln knew him inside and out. He hadn’t been able to see all of Ethan, and he adored that he was learning something new about his best friend. And he liked that he sometimes worked as a team with Ethan to figure out what Holland wanted.

  Lincoln couldn’t wait to discover more.

  He just needed to protect himself. Because he didn’t know what he would do if he lost them. Even after such a short time together, he didn’t know what he’d do.

  Ethan had been in his heart for what seemed like forever. He knew he’d break if he lost him. But now with Holland? It’d be too much. And he knew that.

  He let out a breath and set his sketchbook down, rubbing his temples. He needed to paint, needed to do something. It felt good to create, felt like it had been far too long since he had done anything like this.

  And then he looked down at his phone and cursed.

  It beeped again. He had missed it the first time, but now he saw the text.

  Damien: Art show is tonight. I got you that extra ticket, better bring someone good. I’m sure you still want to bring your little friend, though.

  Lincoln growled and wanted to throw his phone against the wall, but that would just be a waste.

  He really needed a new agent, or at the very least, he needed to have another come-to-Jesus moment with the man. Because he really hated Damien’s attitude. But he had been there when Lincoln had nothing. When all he had was an idea of talent and not even the full scope of it.

  Lincoln had been the typical starving artist who had worked two full-time jobs while painting just to get some of his art out there. And then, as Damien liked to put it, he had been discovered.

  Lincoln hated to think about it like that because that put way too much power in Damien’s hands, even if it was all metaphorical. But Lincoln had to remember where he had come from, too, and the fact that Damien had been there since day one. But then again, so had Ethan, and Ethan never hung it over Lincoln’s head like his agent did.

  Lincoln: I’ll be there. Same with Ethan and Holland.

  Fuck. He hadn’t meant to mention her, had just asked for an extra ticket for a guest, not even putting her name down because he hadn’t wanted to deal with Damien’s questions.

  Damien: Who’s Holland?

  Lincoln: A friend.

  As was made evident by the fact that the girls had stopped by Holland’s place a few days prior, and Ethan’s family and most of Lincoln’s knew that Holland existed, they weren’t hiding their relationship.

  However, he still didn’t want to get into it with Damien. Telling the man about it almost made it feel cheap. And Lincoln didn’t know why. Maybe because Damien made him feel cheap. And…now was not the time to get into that.

  Lincoln looked back down at his screen.

  Damien: What kind of friend? Are you finally getting over your little friend?

  That was it.

  Lincoln: Call him that again, and we’re going to have words. More words. Thanks for the tickets. However, this is the last show I’m doing for you. Now, I have work to do.

  Damien: So you’re actually working? Going to have it done on time? I should alert the media.

  What an asshole.

  Lincoln didn’t answer. Instead, he just closed his eyes and set his phone down. He needed to get ready to meet with Holland and Ethan, and he didn’t want to be late. However, he was not feeling very happy at the moment. He had a headache now, thanks to his agent, and that was just one more nail in the coffin of that relationship.

  He did his best to get Damien out of his head, and then really looked at the time.

  “Fuck.”

  He’d promised Holland that he’d pick her up. Ethan was going to meet them at the show.

  He’d have preferred to have Ethan with him the whole time, but the other man was working late on a project. Lincoln didn’t know much else. Ethan couldn’t really talk about some of the software because it was need-to-know and private, so he was sort of wishy-washy with some of the details.

  That was fine with Lincoln, as long as Ethan made it tonight. He really didn’t want Ethan to back out again.

  Lincoln pinched the bridge of his nose, telling himself that it would be fine. Ethan hadn’t backed out of a date with either of them yet. He’d been late, but he’d shown up. Just because his best friend was really good about backing out of other things didn’t mean it would happen now with them.

  Ethan was doing his best, and had been doing well for…what? A week? That had to count for something. Even if it might be a record.

  And now Lincoln was acting like an ass because of his agent, and more than likely his art.

  He needed to get over his internal struggles when it came to whatever was blocking him and just try to live in the moment.

  Easier said than done, apparently.

  He quickly showered, tried to fix his hair in some sense of fashion even though he probably should just shear it off. However, he couldn’t help but remember the way Holland had looked at his hair. The way she’d run her fingers through it. Therefore, he decided to keep it long. Maybe he’d get a trim, at least. Or perhaps figure out how to style it.

  It wasn’t that bad. After all, this wasn’t the first or the last time that he’d be at an art show that wasn’t his or even one where he had to look good. He would forever be that guy who had paint in his hair and under his fingernails and looked as if he had just gotten out of bed.

  That was the guy he knew and liked. The one he knew Ethan liked.

  He smiled at the thought, remembering the first time he had taken Ethan to a show. The other man had been so lost. But he had tried. He didn’t mock, didn’t pretend like he knew what he was doing, but he did seem genuinely interested.

  It just wasn’t his thing. Sort of like some of the things that Ethan liked weren’t Lincoln’s things. But that was fine. They were allowed to have different hobbies and interests because so many other parts of their lives intersected.

  That’s what made them who they were. That was evolving with the addition of Holland and figuring out what all three of them liked.

  Doing this thing that was part of Lincoln’s world with the two of them? It was big.

  His mouth dried up at the thought, his heart rate increasing. He swallowed hard, trying to create some saliva.

  Probably shouldn’t think about how momentous this occasion could be. Not when he had to try and think of things in the now, rather than things in the future.

  Because he wasn’t sure there would be a future for them.

  With that thought, he quickly got his stuff and made sure his suit looked okay. He’d gone with the navy blue one with no tie since he didn’t really have to show off too much. But he liked sporting a suit, and he really liked the way Ethan’s eyes sometimes trained on him while wearing one. Now that he could look back on all of their interactions, he realized that maybe he’d been missing some cues. He’d always brushed it off as just Ethan liking guys and appreciating the male form, but maybe there was something more. Yes…he’d been blind.

  Then he remembered that Holland had seen him in suit pants before, too, and her eyes had gotten just as dark.

  He was glad that he was wearing the ones that made his ass look great tonight. Add in the fact that it looked just like that suit Chris Evans wore when he ushered Betty White up on stage that one time? He’d had totally bought it because of that. Not that Lincoln had a crush on Chris Evans. Okay, he had a massive crush on Chris Evans. Who didn’t? America’s ass and all that.

  With thoughts of Captain on his drive, he was just pulling into Holland’s driveway when he got a text.

  Eth
an: The boss called us in for another meeting. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to be there. I don’t want to be here. But I can’t go. We’re apparently near some breakthrough and everything’s just getting fucked up. I’m so sorry.

  Lincoln looked down at his phone and shook his head, irrational rage filling his veins. Somehow, he had known this would happen. Work was important, and he got it. But he hated that Ethan wasn’t going to be there for him. For Holland. Hated that, once again, Ethan was letting him down.

  Lincoln: No problem. I get it.

  Ethan: It is a problem. Can you tell Holland? I got to go.

  Lincoln just snorted, shaking his head.

  Lincoln: Fine.

  And then he put his phone on silent and stuffed it into his pocket. It vibrated again, but he didn’t care.

  Ethan didn’t tell Holland. He didn’t even go to their group chat. He wanted Lincoln to handle it.

  And he got it. Because Lincoln would be able to explain to Holland that Ethan’s job sucked sometimes, lay out that Ethan was a workaholic. She might already know, but he’d be able to smooth things over. And Lincoln would make sure that everything was fine. He and Holland could have a nice date, just the two of them.

  Lincoln didn’t want Holland to feel the ache he was currently feeling. But it didn’t matter. Because he had known that something like this would happen. And beyond tonight, he had a feeling they were going to fuck things up.

  Well, maybe not Holland. Though she might run away first. After all, he knew she was doing her best to try and keep some distance between them. He saw it in her eyes and in the way she never set plans. And she always looked surprised to be asked when either Ethan or he did. And tonight? What happened tonight certainly wasn’t going to help things.

  No, fuck that. He would fix this. They both had to figure out Ethan at some point, but for now, Lincoln would make sure his date with Holland was good. Just the two of them. Because they were one pair in the three. He’d work on that, and he’d make sure that what they had was solid so she didn’t run. And then they’d work on Ethan together. Because he sure as hell didn’t know how to do it by himself.