by Qwillia Rain
“That doesn’t mean he’d care about what happened.” Lyssa shrugged off Vance’s touch. She focused her gaze on setting the skillet on the burner before she turned on the stove. “I mean, look at how many men are out there who don’t—”
“You never even gave him a chance,” Ben argued. “How could he tell you how he felt when he never knew about it?”
“When should I have given him a chance to decide?” Lyssa glared over her shoulder at both men as she crumbled the hamburger into the warming skillet. “He was gone. He left after Mattie and Bryce married, and I didn’t see him again until Mattie’s collaring ceremony. I’d already lost the baby by then. What good would it have done to tell him?”
She’d never told Ben about the visit Mike had made to her home three months after their siblings married, the night Mattie ended up locked in a closet at the Club. Nor had she told him about Mike standing her up on the date she’d intended to tell him that she was pregnant; she’d miscarried merely days after realizing he’d chosen a model over her. By that time, Mike had been in England with some exotic-voiced woman—Lyssa cut the thought off before it could form.
Guilt was hard enough to swallow every time Ben suggested she confess to Mike about the baby she’d lost. It would be ten times—a hundred times—harder to deal with if Ben knew the visit from Mike had started off as a simple attempt to see if there had been consequences to the hours they’d spent together. If Ben knew that Mike had actually asked if she was pregnant during that second wild, irrational evening, he’d be suspicious. If he discovered she’d lied that night and told Mike she wasn’t pregnant, she’d never hear the last of her friend’s speeches about integrity and honesty.
She blamed the heat suffusing her face on the warmth from the stove. Hopefully both of the men with her would think along similar lines if they spotted her pink cheeks.
“There is such a thing as the telephone, Lys.” Ben’s comment pulled her from her thoughts.
“Yes. And he could just as easily have contacted me if he’d wanted.” The inner voice whispering to her about the lie grew louder as she continued to deny the attempts Mike had made to coax her into a relationship after their night at the Club. Or the overtures she’d shrugged off for the twelve years she’d known the younger man. She moved to the sink and rinsed off her sticky hands. Wiping them on a dishtowel, she looked at Ben. “Why should I be the one to make the first move? To try to contact him when it was so obvious he couldn’t have cared less.” She’d tried that too, only to have another woman answer his phone.
“You don’t know that.”
Lyssa nodded. “If he cared, he would have stuck around.” She swallowed as she remembered the bitter words she’d exchanged with Mike the few times she’d seen him before Mattie’s wedding and following the night he’d stood her up on their only date. “If he really cared about me, he wouldn’t keep running off to those godforsaken stretches of land where everyone is trying to kill each other.”
Or ogling sexy young models. The jealousy that always rose at the thought of Mike pursuing one of those models stirred to life. The memory of the woman who’d answered Mike’s cell phone the second time Lyssa had given in to temptation to tell him about the baby rose up again. The woman’s exotic accent stirred images of a Nubian princess, her dark skin a sharp contrast to Mike’s as they twisted against each other while making love.
Lyssa’s stomach churned even now at the thought of Mike taking the other woman to the room he’d shared with Lyssa at the Club after the masquerade. Of him bringing her to San Diablo and making Lyssa face her replacement in Mike’s bed, in his affections.
“I can’t speak for Mike, but I would want to know.” Vance’s voice broke into Lyssa’s musings, pulling her back to the discussion.
“Know?”
“Whether you’d had or lost my child, I’d want to be there. I’d want to do whatever necessary to help you.”
“And if you didn’t know? If you found out years later? How would you feel? Would you forgive the woman? Or would you hate her—resent her having stayed silent?” Lyssa’s heart slammed against her ribs. Anxious to hear Vance’s response, she was concerned his answer would be the same as the ones she imagined Mike would have if she revealed her secret.
“It would depend.”
She stirred the simmering meat but glanced over her shoulder to read the intensity of Vance’s expression. “On what?”
“The reason I wasn’t told. How long she’d kept the truth about the baby from me.”
A shudder traveled through Lyssa as she processed Vance’s comments. Knowing Mike the way she did, there was little doubt in her mind that he would resent her not telling him about their child. He would feel betrayed, even resentful, that she’d lied to him. She shook off the spinning thoughts and glanced at Ben. “What about you?”
“I’ve been telling you for years you needed to let Mike know.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Ben didn’t hesitate. “I’d want to know.”
It hurt enough dealing with the fact that she hadn’t been able to protect the tiny life that had been entrusted to her. To think how angry Mike might feel about her keeping the information about its loss from him only increased the unease, the guilt filling her. “Would you expect to be part of raising your child if you found out about it?”
“Yes.” Both men answered at the same time, their tones firm.
The knot in her belly grew.
* * *
Anticipation stirred in Mike’s groin as he strode up the steps onto Lyssa’s porch and knocked on the door. The small gym bag David had filched from his apartment two days earlier was weighted down with toys he was sure his woman would enjoy. He’d forgotten it in his truck the night before. After gaining her agreement yesterday afternoon, Mike had stayed the night with her. Only the need to check on his business had drawn him away. He had thirty days to convince Lyssa he was the man to master her body and her heart.
The half grin on his lips disappeared when Lyssa’s door swung open and Ben Murphy stood facing him.
A tense moment passed between them until Lyssa’s voice broke the staring match. “Ben? Is that Mike?” she asked.
“Yes,” Ben called back. He motioned Mike in and closed the door behind him.
Mike left the bag on the floor beside the entrance and followed Ben through the living room and into the kitchen. Vance stood slicing vegetables while Lyssa stirred something in a pan on the stove. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. A loose pair of jeans and an oversize sweatshirt hid the generous curves of her body.
He’d been irritated when the two men had tried to interfere with his claiming of her at the Club. To see them in her house casually sharing cooking duties with her twisted the jealousy inside him. It was a unique and disturbing feeling. Mike disliked it. Nor did he appreciate the apparent ease his woman felt around these men.
“Is it because I was coming over, or do they live with you now?” Mike asked.
“Excuse me?” Lyssa turned a confused look on him.
“Are you suddenly getting cold feet, Lys? Is that why you’ve decided to keep your guard dogs close?”
“It’s Saturday, Mike.” Her tone suggested he should understand the significance of the day.
“So?” He failed to see how the day related to the presence of two men. Especially after he’d already punished her for breaking his first rule—no other men.
“Taco Saturday,” Vance explained as he grabbed the package of cheese Ben tossed at him. “Saturdays we do tacos here. Wednesday night is steaks on the grill at our place.”
“Taco Saturday?” Mike watched Lyssa place a cover over the pan and take the package of tortillas from Ben. The friendly smile she gave the other man only increased Mike’s annoyance. “How long have you three been sharing Taco Saturdays and Steak Wednesdays?”
“Four years,” Vance answered. “Ben and Lys let me join them after Ben and I hooked up.”
“And wh
at if I don’t like tacos or steak?” Mike asked, his gaze focused on Lyssa. Perhaps he hadn’t made it clear that his rules didn’t pertain to merely having sex.
She stopped laying the tortillas over a small wire form and looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“What if I don’t want to spend Wednesdays or Saturdays with anyone else around?” He could tell by her expression she hadn’t been expecting his demand. She seemed oblivious to the tension between him and the other men. He’d be damned if he’d allow her to turn away from him and back to these two for anything—whether it involved friendship or sex. “I told you yesterday, I don’t share, Lyssa. And I meant it.”
“Now just a minute—”
Mike ignored Vance’s protest as he faced Lyssa. “Rule number one: no other men.”
“Excuse me.” Lyssa set aside the package, slipped the pan with the tortillas hanging over the forms into the oven, and left the kitchen. She avoided looking at any of the men as she moved past them.
“What the hell is your problem, Halsey?” Vance demanded, setting the knife down as if he didn’t trust himself with a weapon.
“You don’t get it, do you, Justiss? She’s mine.”
“So?”
Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “So this little threesome you all have shared is over.”
Ben shook his head. “No, my man, it isn’t. Lyssa is a friend. As long as she wants or needs us, Vance and I are going to be here for her.”
“She has me now.”
Vance shook his head and picked up the grater. Running the chunk of cheese he’d sliced over the ridges, he snorted. “If you’re not careful, Mike, you won’t have her for very long.”
Determined to make sure Lyssa understood his expectations, Mike left the kitchen and headed for the master bedroom at the back of the house.
Inside her room, he found Lyssa carefully picking up the various outfits spread over her bed. He was ready for a fight, but the quiet calm of her voice surprised him. “Did I ever tell you that I don’t like pushy men?”
“I told you the rules.” Mike ignored her comment.
She glared over her shoulder at him as she hung her clothes up. “So, what? I’m supposed to isolate myself from my friends to keep you happy?”
“No.”
Heat built in her tone as she snapped, “Then what? I sit around by myself waiting for you to stroll in?” She shoved another outfit into the closet and then turned to face him.
Again he ignored her comment, his focus on removing the other men from her home. “They need to go.”
“Who?”
Down the hall, he could hear the rattle of plates and cutlery as Ben and Vance continued making lunch. “Ben and Vance. They need to leave.”
She drew a deep breath. He could see the resolve forming in her mind. “Knuckling under to a man’s demands isn’t a part of my life. That stopped when I was seventeen. And it won’t start again. Not ever again. No matter how much I may be attracted to you, Mike, I’ll decide whom I ask to stay and whom I ask to go.”
“Is that a no?”
Lyssa nodded. “Exactly. No. I won’t ask them to leave. I heard what you said to Ben. You can’t tell me who I’ll keep as friends, Mike.”
“No fuck buddies,” he warned her, moving into the room.
Lyssa laughed, the sound empty of humor. “You can’t be serious, Mike.”
Mike dismissed the loosening of the knot in his chest and pointed out, “You’ve been with them at the Club.”
“Is there some unwritten rule that says I have to have sex with any man accompanying me there?” Lyssa shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“What’s with the sudden jealousy? You haven’t given a damn about what I did or who I went out with before now…”
“Like hell I haven’t.” Mike strode across the room to stand toe-to-toe with her. “They certainly acted like they owned you at the masquerade. Does Ben have a key to your house?”
Lyssa nodded. “And I have a key to his and Vance’s place.” Setting her hands on her hips, she faced Mike calmly. “We’re friends. We take care of each other’s homes when one or the other of us needs to be away for a few days.”
The urge to demand that she open herself to him the way she did with the other two men hovered on the tip of his tongue. Regaining control, he asked the one question he needed answered, “And a comfy spot in their bed as well?”
Not bothering with a response, Lyssa moved to shove the last dress into her closet and groused out loud, “I should have known the second I slept with you again this would happen. I knew there was a reason I didn’t want to get involved with a kid like you. You have the maturity level of a six-month-old puppy. What’s next? Peeing on everything so you can mark your territory?”
“Kid?” Mike demanded. He gripped her arm and swung her around to face him. “What about them?” He gestured to the men down the hall.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, if it’s such a hardship getting involved with a ‘kid like me,’ what the hell is getting involved with Ben or Vance? Robbing the cradle?”
“I don’t…”
“Sweetheart, Vance is two years younger than me. Ben, on the other hand, is two years older than me, but that still puts him four years your junior. If I’m such a kid, then so are they.” Gripping her other arm, he pulled her close, leaving little room for anything to pass between them but air. “And if anyone should have a complaint about immature behavior, it should be me.”
“You? Why?”
“Four years ago, I took you home, and you locked yourself in the bathroom. I knocked on the door and waited for an hour. An hour. But you refused to come out.” He gave her a little shake, wanting to rattle her memory into place. “I returned as soon as I was back in country, and you did the same thing—ran away. After a little wham-bam-thank-you-sir, of course. Then it was back to you playing rabbit for four years. Every time I tried to talk to you, you scurried off like some frightened little bunny and avoided me.”
“If I recall, you couldn’t be bothered to keep the one date I did agree to.”
“I apologized. I told you it was an emergency—”
“And I needed to talk to you, but your job, your career was more important,” Lyssa snapped.
“I came back. I tried to make it up to you.” The damage had been done. He’d accepted that when he’d decided providing backup for his team came before Lyssa. Now, though, nothing would come before his woman’s needs. Nothing and no one.
“You just wanted to gloat,” Lyssa excused.
He didn’t miss the way her body betrayed her, moving closer into his hold rather than pulling away.
“I just wanted you, Lys. In bed or out. Against the wall. Over a chair. I wanted to sink inside you and never leave.”
Mike crushed her mouth beneath his. Pulling her close, he wrapped her in his arms as their kiss grew more heated. Spots appeared behind his closed eyelids due to lack of oxygen. Breathing labored, Mike eased his lips away and gazed down at her. “That’s all I wanted, Lyssa.”
Looking stunned and a little dizzy from his kiss, Lyssa held on to him to try to steady herself. “I-I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do. What are you going to do about it?”
She shook her head, confused.
“Lunch is served. Come and get it.” Vance’s call from the kitchen offered her an escape.
And she grabbed it. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
Mike stopped her as she tried to step past him. “You won’t be able to run forever, Lys.”
Without saying anything, she moved around him and headed down the hall. He waited before following her, his mind strategizing his next move to break down the walls the woman he loved kept building between them.
Chapter Eight
Mike leaned against the entrance to the hallway as Lyssa gave Vance and Ben a final hug at the door. At the same time, he noticed how determinedly she
ignored the packed bag he’d left in the foyer. Ben glanced over Lyssa’s head at him. The warning was clear in the other man’s cool gray eyes. Hurt her and you’ll answer to me.
Mike nodded his acknowledgement of the threat and offered a casual salute in farewell.
After she shut and locked the door, Lyssa rested against it, her back to him for several moments.
“Delaying it won’t change anything, pet,” Mike told her as he straightened away from the wall and moved across the room toward her.
“Delaying what?” Lyssa looked at him. The guileless gaze she turned on him would have almost convinced him she had no inkling of what he meant, but the flush in her cheeks gave her away. Even her breathing increased, and her hands tugged and twisted the hem of her oversize sweatshirt as he approached.
Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before responding, “Your punishment.” He bent to retrieve his bag, all the while watching her reaction.
She gave a small start at his words, then a gusty sigh. “Rule number one?”
Mike nodded, tracing her lips with the forefinger of his empty hand. “Again.”
Lyssa’s hand came up and tugged his fingers away from her mouth. “Why? It was only Ben and Vance.”
He twisted his hand free of her grip, then settled his fingers around her wrist. “What makes them exempt from the rule?”
“They’re just friends. Plus they’re gay,” she reasoned.
“They’re bi. And they’re men. Therefore a violation of rule number one.” Mike watched her face, monitoring her expression.
Although wary, Lyssa appeared neither frightened nor unduly disturbed by his announcement. “I really think we need to establish the where and when of the rules’ application. Are you expecting me to follow the rules at all times? Or only when they pertain to sex? I mean, there are any number of times when I might be in violation of rule number one. Like when I’m at the bank or the grocery store. Does that mean I deserve to be punished?” She remained reasonable as Mike moved down the hall.
Mike stayed just as reasonable. “The rules are in effect at all times during your training.” He walked backward down the hall, facing her the entire time as he drew her with him.