by D. L. Roan
Connor scrubbed his hands over his face. “No. I mean, the chemistry is there, but he refuses to talk about it and...I don’t know. He’s been so fucked in the head lately.”
“Ha!” Matt chuckled again. “A woman can sure do that to ya, especially the right one.”
“He’s been off since way before Breezy,” Connor explained. “The last two years have been...things haven’t been good for a while, Dad, even between us.”
Matt rolled the lunge line around his forearm then hung it on a tack hook beside one of the stalls. “I figured as much, after seeing that video.”
“He knows he screwed up, and things have been better since we’ve been home, but I don’t know what’s going on inside his head. Whatever it is, he’s fighting it and I don’t know what to do.”
“Well hell.” Matt walked over to the stack of hay bales and plopped down on the closest one. He pulled out a long stem and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on the end as he talked. “He comes by it honestly, I can say that.”
“But Grey came around for Mom.” Connor took a seat on the bale beside his dad. “How long did it take for him to sort things out?”
Matt let out a long, low whistle, bracing his hands on his knees. “I don’t think you can put a time limit on these things, Con.”
“I know, Dad, but...” Breezy had begun ignoring most of his calls, and she was going home soon. They were running out of time.
The rumble of a truck engine approached, catching his attention. Tires skidded to a stop outside the barn, followed by a loud slamming of a door. He and Matt were almost to the main barn door when Jonah shoved it open with a curse, freezing in his tracks when he saw them.
“Sorry,” he grunted and turned to leave.
“What the—Jonah wait!” Connor rushed to his brother’s side, turning him back so he could get a better look at the cut on his brow. “What the hell happened?”
Jonah jerked away, shrugging off the hold Connor had on his arm. “It’s nothing!”
“Nothing my ass.” Matt gripped his chin, tilting his head so the overhead lights illuminated the gash and several other swollen bruises on his face. “That needs stitches.”
“Who did this?” Connor asked, ripping his shirt over his head.
“Don’t,” Jonah barked, jerking his head away when Connor pressed the shirt to his cut. “I’m not Cory, dammit. Stop babying me!”
“Quit acting like one and let me put a butterfly bandage on it,” Matt insisted and stalked over to the first aid kit on the wall.
Connor cleared a work bench and motioned for Jonah to sit. “C’mon, man,” he urged when Jonah didn’t budge. “It’s either a bandage now or the emergency room when Mom see’s that gash and all the blood.”
Jonah mumbled a string of curses as he stalked over to the table. “That’s why I stopped here first, but I can do it myself.”
“Tilt your head back,” Matt instructed, holding up a bottle of water. “I need to rinse out the cut.”
“Did you and Pryce have it out?” Connor asked. He’d been surprised to learn of his brother’s friendship with the youngest Grunion boy. By all accounts, Pryce seemed like a good kid. Contrary to the typical Grunion zealots, he was polite and shy and seemed to be immune to the Grunion prejudices that had led to decades of volatile confrontations between the families over the years.
“Pryce has nothing to do with this,” Jonah said, jerking his head away when Matt tried to apply some antibiotic ointment.
“Hold still,” Matt ordered.
“Well, I hope you gave as good as you got,” Connor said when Jonah didn’t offer more of an explanation. At seventeen, Jonah was a big boy, taller than Grey even, and as broad as a bull. Whoever it was, they had a set on them if they were picking a fight with Jonah.
“I took care of it,” Jonah grumbled, hissing when their dad pressed the first bandage into place.
“That’s not going to fly and you know it,” Matt said. “If Pryce wasn’t involved then who the hell was?”
“I said I handled it.” Jonah refused a second bandage and pushed off the table, tossing Connor his shirt. Matt grabbed his arm to stop him, but Jonah snatched free of his hold. “I said I’m fine, Dad. Leave it alone.”
“Con?”
Connor looked over his shoulder to see Carson rushing through the doorway, Grey appearing behind him a moment later. “Where’s Breezy?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Jonah’s cut. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Nothing!” Jonah turned and stomped from the barn, rushing past Grey without another word.
“He got into a fight, obviously,” Matt offered. “But he’s not talking.”
“I swear, these kids are going to kill us all,” Grey grumbled, looking back over his shoulder when Jonah’s truck fired up and spun away.
“Where’s Breezy?” Carson asked again, the urgency in his voice setting Connor’s nerves on edge.
“What did you do, Car?”
Carson shook his head. “Nothing—I kissed her—but she took off. I think she left the park with Dani, but I didn’t see her Jeep outside and Dani isn’t answering her phone.”
“Did you try calling Breezy?” Connor asked, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“I don’t have her number, dickwad.”
Connor swiped his phone and tapped the number he’d already programmed into his speed dial, his call going to her voicemail without it even ringing. “Voicemail,” he said and re-pocketed the phone.
“Dani didn’t answer either,” Grey grumbled as he pulled his phone from his ear.
The four of them marched out of the barn and were headed to the house when a set of headlamps flashed at the end of the long driveway. Dani’s jeep came into view and Connor let out a relieved breath, but when she stopped he could see that Breezy wasn’t with her.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Grey demanded.
“You said not to talk on the phone while I was driving!” Dani argued as she shouldered her purse and slammed the driver’s door.
“I told you to pull over,” Grey clarified. “You don’t ignore my call.”
“I was less than a mile away, Dad. What was I supposed to do? Stop at the end of the driveway?”
“I don’t care if you’re in the driveway. You answer our calls.”
“Fine,” Dani snapped back. “You want me to call you when I get to the front door, too?”
“Where’s Breezy?” Carson interrupted, dipping his head to peer into the Jeep.
“I dropped her off at Mrs. McEwin’s B&B,” Dani explained, casting a pouty glance at Grey. “That’s why I was late.”
Connor glared at Carson. What the hell had he done to her now?
“I’ll explain on the way.” Carson sighed. “Dad, can we borrow your truck?”
Grey had already pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them to Connor. The twins sprinted to the truck and were on the road in seconds, but Carson was still as closed-lipped as a clam.
“Spill it,” Connor ordered, punching the gas pedal to the floor, only then realizing that he was missing his shirt.
Chapter Eighteen
Steam billowed from the bathtub, swirling lazily in the still air as it rose to the ceiling. Breezy rested the back of her head against the edge of the tub and watched it build into a cloud above.
The thought of clouds led to thoughts of rain, which led to thoughts of Connor and what song he would hear as the drops fell around him. Her helpless groan echoed in the tiled room as she forced the unwanted thoughts from her head.
“Stop wanting impossible things,” she scolded herself and reached for the wrapped bar of soap on the stand beside the tub. She peeled back the wrapper, the paper falling to the floor when she saw the words inscribed into the bar. Twins Brand®
Her head fell back on an exasperated sigh that threatened to turn into a sob, the bar of soap plunking into the sudsy water. She couldn’t win.
Everywhere she turned, Connor and Carson were there—alway
s had been. Her crush had been subdued by survival after she left Grassland, but they were never more than a few lonely moments away from her thoughts.
The last year of her life had epitomized lonely. The demands of her work at the stroke center had set her odds of socializing outside the office at near zero, her odds of dating into negative territory. Maybe that was why she’d reacted the way she had when Carson kissed her. She’d been vulnerable, tired...
Stop it. She put a screeching halt to the lie she was about to tell herself. There had been no other reason for kissing Carson but her long-held desire to know what it was like to do so, to feel his body against hers, his wild taste on her tongue.
Being held in his arms, his hands gripping her with barely controlled passion, was like nothing she’d ever felt and more than she’d ever imagined. It was a purely selfish moment of weakness she couldn’t allow to happen again.
Carson had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want her, or didn’t want to want her. She’d tried to stay out of his way, immersing herself in Joe’s recovery and helping Hazel with her gardening. A green thumb she did not have, but Hazel was patient and eager to teach her all the same. The woman had an inherent, organic connection to the plants Breezy would never understand. It reminded her of Connor’s connection to his music. She let out another groan, her thoughts having come full circle once again.
When Connor had come down with the same flu as Carson, he’d called her at his grandparents’ to cancel their date and charmed her cellphone number from her in the process. He’d called her every day to ask her how her day with Papa Joe had gone. She’d managed to fool herself for a few days, pretending there was something between them. Every time her phone rang her heart would stutter. She’d answer the call, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she was.
She’d even begun to think about staying in Grassland and opening her own practice. After a quick internet search, she’d discovered that the closest rehab center was an hour away. She’d even gone so far as to call a realtor to check out the commercial properties available in town that she might be able to rent. Where she’d get the capital was still a mystery, but her credit was in good shape.
Four days into her fantasy, she glanced out the window to see Carson outside, talking with Nate and Jake. She’d been drawn to the window, caught in a tractor beam of sunlight and dimples and the untamed aura that had always swirled around him.
She watched as he talked, seeing hints of the over-confident boy he’d once been ghosting through the unsettled man he’d become. She’d seen it then. He’d been right. Whatever he was going through, he needed his family, not another distraction, to help him through it.
Confronted with reality, she’d taken a deep breath, pulled her head out of the clouds and poured herself into her work, staying far away from the windows when she knew Carson was visiting.
Connor continued to call her every day, but those she didn’t let go to voicemail, she’d managed to keep short and as much about Joe as she could. What was the point in torturing them both? Having one McLendon twin without the other would never be possible for her.
Tonight had been the first true test of her new resolve and she’d failed miserably. She would finish Joe’s therapy, but it was painfully obvious she couldn’t stay there.
Determined, if not a little heartsick, Breezy fished around the tub until she found the bar of soap. Tomorrow was a big day for Joe. His progress had been astounding and she didn’t see any reason to extend her stay beyond another week. She’d already made an appointment with a rehab center in Billings to discuss their offer to join their group practice. She’d fulfilled her obligation to the McLendons and it was time to move on.
Turning the soap in her palms, she worked up a thick lather as she bathed, but as her hands drifted over the places Carson had touched, places that still ached and tingled, her hand slowed. She could still feel him moving against her, his grip urgent and desperate.
Her head fell back as his powerful and talented hands moved along her thighs, the tips of his callused fingers raking along her skin until he reached her outer folds. She drew in a stuttering breath when he cupped her hard, bearing down on just the right spot with the heel of his hand as his fingers swirled over her entrance.
She arched against the exquisite pressure. Her thighs closed around his wrist, but a second pair of hands coaxed her knees apart. Warm lips covered her gasp as Carson’s fingers dipped inside her.
Connor’s tongue slid along hers with a lustful, lazy purpose, seducing an equal response from her own. His hungry growl fueled her lust for his taste and she tilted her head, welcoming his deeper thrusts.
She pushed against Carson’s hand, needing more. When another of his fingertips explored lower and glanced over the rim of her rear passage, she nearly came undone. The need to feel them both, hot and hard inside her, sent a shudder racing through her body.
Sharp teeth nipped at her breasts, raking over her pebbled nipples, taunting them to hard peeks. She arched against the exquisite pain, her body begging to be kissed until finally Carson’s hot mouth closed over one aching nipple and sucked hard, his wicked tongue flicking and swirling, drawing out a desperate plea for more.
Knock-knock-knock-knock. Her eyes snapped open, her breath rushed out as she flailed in the tub. Water splashed her face and over the rim of the tub as she righted herself, and then froze to listen for more. The knocking continued with urgency. She pulled herself up and stepped out of the tub, a sense of alarm decimating her aroused state as the pounding grew louder.
Wrapped only in a towel, she wiped her hand over the foggy mirror and grimaced at the drowned rat that stared back at her. There was no time to do anything about it as another round of knocking rattled her door, demanding her immediate capitulation.
“I’m coming!” She rushed to the door and peered through the security peep, her breath seizing in her lungs when she saw who was standing on the other side. She slid the chain from its mooring and wrenched the door open.
“What’s happened?” A horrible dread built in the pit of her stomach when Carson and a shirtless Connor didn’t respond. “Is it Joe?”
They didn’t move, their twin expressions reflecting a sense of shock and disbelief. “Let me get dressed and you can explain on the way.” She rushed to her bed and scooped up the clothes she’d worn to the park. “Have you called 9-1-1? Is he on his way to the hospital, or already there?” she asked as she rushed toward the bathroom.
“Breezy, stop.”
She spun around. They stood just inside the room, the door clicking closed behind them.
“I don’t understand.” She scowled in confusion. “Time is important, Con. We need to—”
“Papa Joe is fine,” Carson explained.
She released a relieved breath, her arms falling to her sides. Thank God he’s okay, but then... “Why are you here?” she asked, searching their faces for any clue. “Did something else happen?”
Connor swallowed, his tongue darting out, leaving a glistening path over his bottom lip as he took her in. “You could say that.” He propped his hands on his hips.
He knows. Regret sluiced over her like a bucket of ice. “Connor, I’m sorry,” she rushed to explain. “It’s not Carson’s fault. I kissed him—”
“It’s okay,” Connor said. He crossed the space between them and stood in front of her, his hands cupping her face. She held her breath as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his mouth moving in a sensual tease that started her pulse to racing again. “I want to see him kiss you again.”
She opened her eyes and found him staring down at her, nose to nose, his lips still so close they tickled hers as he smiled. “I—you do?”
Connor nodded, the tip of his nose brushing against hers. He tilted his head, and leaned closer to her ear, the movement revealing Carson’s position behind him. His eyes were dark, swirling with the same desire she’d seen earlier that evening. “I want that very much,” Connor whispered in her
ear, the seductive hum of his voice sending delicious shivers racing along her arms.
Connor sucked her earlobe between his teeth and lightning jolted her from his hypnotic spell. She turned away and shook her head, her eyes blinking away the sensual images his words conjured.
“Car doesn’t want this.” She raised her hand to clasp her towel and... she looked down. She was still only wearing a towel! “Oh God.” She turned in a rush for the bathroom.
“Wait,” Carson stepped around Connor and snagged her wrist.
“I have to get dressed.”
“No you don’t,” Carson said, stepping around her and heading off her retreat. “Please don’t.”
She tried to step around him, but he moved with her, his large frame blocking her. All she could see and smell was him, a spicy concoction of male and muscle. “You said—”
“I take it all back.” Carson hooked his finger under her chin and tipped her head back. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze and her heart leapt. His eyes glistened with remorse as he lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I was a fool, Breezy. I regret every damn horrible thing I’ve said to you, but if you never believe anything else, believe that I want this. I want you, with every cell in my body.”
Connor slid his arms around her waist, his naked chest pressing against her back. The heat of their bodies surrounded her, blanketed her in a sensual cloud. “I want this, Breezy. We both want you,” Connor whispered, his lips grazing the outer shell of her ear. His hand slipped between the overlapped edges of her towel, his fingers skimming along the first bit of her skin he could touch, teasing her with the promise of more. “Please tell us you want this, too.”
Is this really happening? Had she slipped in the bathtub and was now having a coma-induced hallucination? Air rushed in and out of her lungs. Her mind raced to make sense of what was happening, but a lifetime of fantasies and dreams crushed anything and everything but the feel of their bodies against hers. She melted against Connor as Carson lowered his head again, their eyes locked on one another. He touched his lips tentatively to hers.