by Rhian Cahill
“Kelly.”
He spun around to find Ethan on his phone. For a split second, his hopes had soared, only to be dashed when he realised Ethan was leaving a message and not talking to her.
“Please call. We just want to know you’re okay.” Ethan hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. “Okay. Let’s go home. There’s nothing we can do anyway.”
Finn hated the defeat in Ethan’s voice, mainly because he was intimately acquainted with it himself. Their hands were tied. Until Kitty rang or came looking for them, there was absolutely nothing they could do.
He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
Ethan’s phone chirped and they both froze. Finn’s hands clenched while he waited for his friend to fumble his phone out of his pocket. Watching Ethan’s hands shake as he checked the message gave Finn no relief or measure of ease to know they were both strung tighter than a hangman’s noose.
“Well?” he asked.
Ethan met his gaze. “She said she’s okay.”
“What?” Finn snatched the phone from Ethan’s hand. “Shit.”
I’m okay.
Two words were all they got. Two words? After last night he thought she’d at least give them more. He shoved the phone back at Ethan. “Let’s go.”
They didn’t speak on the drive home. Barely said a word for the next four hours. But when Kitty sent a second text telling them she was taking a week off. That she needed time. Well, they certainly had plenty to say then.
Unfortunately, not one word did them any good because in the end Kitty was still not there and neither of them had any idea what would happen when she came back.
Kitty stared at the rolling waves and wondered what the hell she was doing. Nothing had changed in the last three days. She’d made no decisions or come to any conclusions about Ethan and Finn.
That was a lie.
She’d come to one conclusion.
They cared.
Every day her phone beeped with numerous messages. They missed her. Hoped she was doing okay. Was there anything she needed?
Except for the frequency of their messages, they hadn’t changed. They’d always taken care of her in little ways—or tried to. She could see that now. Yes, they’d had sex purely for pleasure, but under the want—the need—had been genuine affection and caring.
She’d been blind to that before. Jillian had done a lot to point out what she’d overlooked. The lunches bought, the gifts on her birthday and at Christmas. She spoke to her sister every evening, but she hadn’t trusted Jillian enough to spill her location. Kitty couldn’t tell which pissed Jillian off more—Kitty’s rejection of two hunks or her unwillingness to share her hideout.
She smiled and pushed to her feet. Brushing the sand from her backside, she was blindsided by the memory of Finn spanking her. Her body tightened—grew damp—and her muscles, still tender for the workout they’d given her three days ago, ached with a mixture of pleasure and pain. And there was the craving for more. Kitty didn’t think she’d ever reach the point where she didn’t want more of the ecstasy she’d found in their bed.
It had been like that from the minute she’d left Sydney on Sunday. Normal things would set her mind travelling back to their night together, and Kitty would be on the verge of packing up and heading home to get another taste of them.
Honesty meant she had to admit she wasn’t running from them.
She was running from herself and the carnal desires she had for two men that had gone from fantasy to reality to need.
Now that she’d opened the door to her own wants and desires, there was no closing it. She had to accept her sexual inclinations the way she’d accepted her love for both Finn and Ethan.
And she did love them. Had done for a while now. She should have seen that before too, but it was easy to hide behind her job—behind her shyness. But it was hard to hide from anything when you were on your own for hours and hours and hours though. Too much time to think—too little distraction to ignore.
Sighing, she walked up the beach to the little house she’d rented for the week. It was a shack really. Two rooms total. A bedroom and a combined kitchen and living space. The bathroom—not that the curtained-off corner of the bedroom could be called a room—had a toilet and shower, no hand basin. Good thing the bed was comfortable and the position prime—right on the beach—or she might have driven home the first night.
Not that driving home didn’t appeal otherwise. She’d fought with herself every second to stay. There were moments, like now, where she wondered why she had, and there were others where she thought she might never go back.
Kitty knew that was her fear talking. She knew she’d be going home. It was just a matter of when. As if Ethan and Finn had a direct channel to her thoughts, her phone beeped. Smiling, she took the phone from her pocket and read the latest text. This one from Ethan.
All good? Need anything? The office sux without you. XOXO
She laughed. She’d made sure the temp agency sent their most proficient worker so Kitty knew the place was in good hands. And if that made her stomach cramp uncomfortably to think about she pushed it aside. No point thinking about some other woman running the office in her absence. Not when she’d been the one to make that happen.
Kitty grabbed the towel she’d left slung over the chair by the door on her way to wash and dry her feet. The outdoor shower gave her all sorts of carnal fantasies, but she pushed them aside before they overtook her mind and she did something stupid like text Ethan and Finn her whereabouts so they could join her here and turn her fantasy to reality.
But not matter how hard she tried. The images of the three of them taking a skinny-dip in the ocean as the sun set and returning to help each other remove the sand from every nook and cranny just wouldn’t leave her alone.
She was fighting a losing battle and she knew it.
Instead of turning on the tap, she held her phone, hovering her thumb over the screen, and wondered what they’d do if she gave them the one thing they seemed to want.
Chapter Seven
Ethan eased up on the accelerator and hoped he’d backed off in time to miss getting snapped by the speed camera. He’d been pushing the limit from the minute he’d squealed out of the office parking lot. Finn sat beside him in the passenger seat. They hadn’t spoken a word since Kelly had sent her last text. He couldn’t describe the emotions that had slashed through him when he’d worked out what he was reading.
She gave them nothing but an address.
No other words—just a number, a street name and a suburb. But he didn’t need anything else to know the significance of this particular place on the planet. She’d revealed where she was and nothing more. That confused him a little. Did she want them to come to her? Had she sent it accidently?
He glanced at the dashboard. His GPS said they had another fifteen minutes before they reached their destination. They’d been on the road for forty minutes already, and while tension was high, it wasn’t the kind to get on your nerves. Probably because the anxiety was coming from both of them and he was already strung as tight as he was going to get.
They were silent another five minutes when Finn finally spoke. “Do you think this is what she wants?”
Ethan briefly glanced at his friend to see him staring out the side window. “I haven’t a clue, but I’m tired of hashing this out long distance. Hell, we haven’t hashed anything out.”
“What if we get there and she’s gone?”
That thought didn’t bear thinking as far as Ethan was concerned. “She’ll be there.” She had to be.
“We should have told her we were coming.”
Ethan couldn’t take one more word out of Finn’s mouth in that dejected tone. “Stop. We won’t know what is going to happen until we get there. No point trying to guess and there’s definitely no point in seeing a negative outcome when neither of us can predict what Kelly wants or doesn’t want. She has to tell us. Same as we need to tell her.”
“I�
�m not sure I want to leave myself open like that,” Finn mumbled.
“What?” Ethan took his eyes off the road for a second, but Finn’s head was still turned away. “Don’t go fucking pansy-arse on me now. We put our balls on the line when we started the business. This is only different because Kelly is far more important.”
“That’s the problem. Whatever happens could ruin any future we’ve planned. Or dreamed.”
Ethan shook his head. He’d never known his friend to be so negative or so blind. “If Kelly decides she doesn’t want to pursue a future with us it’ll have the same effect whether we tell her how we feel or not.”
“Then what’s the point in putting ourselves out there?” Finn asked.
“What’s the point?” If Ethan didn’t have both hands on the wheel he’d punch his best friend in the face. “Are you fucking kidding me, Finn? Kelly is the point. She’s the only point.”
From the corner of his eye, Ethan saw Finn turn his way. “Think about what we’re asking. Is it fair to even suggest she throw a normal life away for us and what we want from her—with her?”
Ethan couldn’t answer that. Accepting them for herself was one thing. But by doing so she’d have to thumb her nose at the world and what they deemed okay. It wouldn’t be an easy road to take, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—blame her if she refused. All he could do was remember how he felt and that loving someone was never a bad thing. “I don’t know if it’s fair or not. But I believe we can make it work. We have to have faith and trust. We already have the love. We just have to trust it. Trust each other.”
In the end, it was all that mattered.
Finn turned to look out the side window again. He understood what Ethan was saying, but the fear of being without Kitty ate at him. It was like someone had stuck a needle in his spine and sucked the marrow out of his bones. Repeated it on every bone in his body. When people talked about being gutted, he figured this was the feeling they meant.
He’d spent the last three days in a fog. He couldn’t remember what he’d done or where he’d been. The only thing in his head was that Kitty wasn’t there. Of course, that was glaringly obvious every time he stepped out of his office to see some other woman at Kitty’s desk—in her chair.
He couldn’t believe how dependent he’d become on Kitty in the last two years. Finn knew he’d survive without her—even if life seemed bleak without her in it—but he didn’t want to even try. He wanted Kitty to come back to work—back to them. Move into their house—
Finn sat up straight as Ethan turned off the main road. “How close?”
“Five minutes.”
He leaned forward and peered through the windshield. The houses on either side of the road ranged from new high-end dwellings to dilapidated older homes that were probably original to the area being populated. The closer they got, the more Finn’s muscles tensed. There was a light coating of sweat on his palms—dampening his back—and he clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ground together.
“Sit back. You’ll go through the window if I even brake a little bit,” Ethan growled.
“Fine.” Finn sat back against the seat but his eyes remained trained straight ahead. “How long now?”
“Jesus. Look at the fucking GPS yourself.” Ethan’s voice held anger and frustration, and Finn knew they had to gain control over their emotions before they got to Kitty.
“Pull over.”
“What?” Ethan asked. “We’re not there yet.”
“I know. Just pull over. I need a second.”
“Shit.”
Finn knew his friend wasn’t happy, but he pulled the car over anyway. Finn grabbed the latch and opened the door. Pressing the release on his seatbelt, he swung his legs out and stood.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ethan demanded from inside the car.
“Breathing.” He planted his hands on his hips and dropped his head back. The sky was vibrant blue, not a cloud in sight, and he stared without blinking until his eyes watered. Dragging in deep breaths, Finn concentrated on reeling in every runaway emotion Kitty’s leaving had set free.
“Are you done yet?”
He ignored Ethan and took two more deep breaths, making sure he filled his lungs to capacity before letting the air out. His world seemed to shift. The millions of particles slipped back into place and gave him a clear view once more. No more fog. They were here to claim Kitty, and claim her they would.
“Okay.” Finn climbed back into the car. “Let’s do this.”
“Shut the fucking door and buckle up.” Ethan put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb before Finn got the second of his two directives completed.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Not driving off without me,” Finn said.
Ethan braked at a stop sign and looked at him. “We’re in this together.”
Finn smiled. “Yeah.”
“And now that your head is out of your arse, we’ll be on the same page again, right?” Ethan asked.
He knew what Ethan wanted to hear. Knew he had to confirm he’d fight for what they could have with Kitty. Finn smiled. “We’re not leaving here without her.”
Ethan grinned. “Good to have you back.”
They remained quiet while Ethan followed the directions on the GPS. When they reached their destination, Finn thought perhaps they’d plugged in the wrong address.
“You put in the correct street and number, right?” He leaned forward and squinted, but that didn’t change the building in front of them. If you could refer to it as a building. Building was too big a word to describe the house sitting in among the trees and large bushes.
“You think I’d fuck that up?” Ethan asked as he switched off the engine.
Finn studied the small cottage. The garden was overgrown and full of weeds, the roof on the tiny front porch sagged on one end and the paint had long ago peeled off, if it had ever been put on. “Well, no point staying in the car.”
He made his way to the front gate, and that’s when he saw the appeal this little house had. It was at the end of the street with one small strip of grass between the side fence and the beach. The place was prime real estate, and he was surprised no one had flattened the dwelling and built something modern that took the amazing vista into account.
“Damn. Wonder what this block of land is worth. God knows the house isn’t worth a cent,” Ethan said as he stepped beside Finn.
Finn turned a full three-sixty and studied the other houses on the street. It was a mix of old and new, and he figured if he had to answer Ethan’s price question, he’d go for high six figures possibly seven. Bringing his gaze back to the beach, he tilted his head towards the house. “We going in?”
Ethan stepped back. “After you.”
“Nah.” Finn grinned and clapped Ethan on the shoulder. “Together, remember.”
As they’d done on Sunday when they’d gone to Kitty’s house, they walked side-by-side down the overgrown path. When they reached the door, they couldn’t find a bell so Finn raised his fist and knocked.
The cry of a gull overhead drew his gaze. As he followed its progress through the sky down to the water, he found himself looking at a lone figure standing down at the shoreline. It only took a moment for him to realise he was staring at Kitty’s back.
“Hey.” Finn elbowed Ethan. “Check it out.” He nodded his chin in Kitty’s direction.
“Well, that explains why there’s no answer.”
Instead of rushing down to her, Finn walked to the side fence and sat on the two-foot-high wall. Ethan joined him and together, they waited. She’d obviously felt the need to be outside, away from the house after she’d sent them her whereabouts. Finn was quite okay with letting her take as much time as she wanted now that she was within sight.
“How long we going to give her?” Ethan asked.
“As long as I can see her, she can take all the time in the world.”
Kitty didn’t need to turn around and loo
k to know that Finn and Ethan had arrived. It was as though she had some internal radar that had registered their appearance in her immediate vicinity. Some sort of sixth sense tuned in to them and them alone.
The water in front of her blurred as she focused on building the courage to face them. She just had to remember the intoxicating power she’d felt on the weekend when she’d grabbed the reins of her life with both hands and gone after what she wanted.
And gotten it.
She’d managed to be bold long enough to send them the information they needed to find her, but then the uncertainty and fear had risen up and gripped her throat until she had to come outside to breathe.
With each second that passed after Kitty had hit send, the walls of the small house had shrunk. They’d inched closer and closer until she could have sworn stretching her arms out and spinning in a circle would have her fingertips brushing against the faded, peeling wallpaper. It was similar to the sensation of breathlessness she’d experienced while wearing the corset on Saturday night.
Sucking in a lungful of salt-laced air, Kitty straightened her spine and, before she chickened out, turned around.
They sat on the low wall that ran around the perimeter of the house. Still in their suits but missing their ties, it was obvious they’d driven straight from the office without going home. It shouldn’t surprise her, but it did. It also gave her a rush of pleasure. Glancing at the time on her phone, she felt another burst of excitement when she realised they must have left seconds after receiving her message.
C’mon, Kitty. Now or never.
The first step was the hardest. Lifting one foot had never been so difficult, except once she’d made the move the next came easier. And the next. Until she was marching across the sand towards them. Her feet were bare and the warm grains stuck to her skin, sucking her beneath the surface with every step. Only now that she’d made up her mind, it would take more than a little sticky sand to keep her from reaching them.
Kitty strode over the few metres of grass that stood between the beach and her rented accommodation. When the distance between them was only a few feet, she stopped, taking each man in with a quick scan. They looked tired, and she could only assume they’d gotten as little sleep as she had in the last few days.