by S. E. Hall
Déjà vu… double vision… the same sizzle of excitement when my eyes found Cole in the crowd zinging through me once more.
“Minnow,” Cabot sighs the nickname he’d given me decades ago—refuse to bait your own hook one freakin’ time and you never live it down—his relief resonating. And for the split-second he sets them free, I’m captivated by his sexy smirk and the rare twinkle in his emerald eyes… until he tucks them away, remembering what he thinks he’s supposed to be—“the serious one.”
And here we go…
He clears his throat, prepping to toss out some classic “Cabot’s care and concern camouflaged in condescension” in a somber pitch, adjusting his expression to match. “Don’t see anything pierced, tatted, or broken on ya from here; helluva lot better than I was expecting. Guess I oughta be grateful, huh? What happened, somebody finally find sense enough to strap an ankle monitor on that friend of yours? Slow her sorry ass down some?”
In time-honored tradition, that I’m next to certain he enjoys as much as me, I don’t even flinch at his beat-a-dead-horse surliness, always more than ready to go head-to-head with Cabot Keller. “What, you don’t like Tracy? Why haven’t you ever mentioned it before?” I fight back my smile, batting my eyelashes in mocking, innocent ignorance.
Cole snorts, ever-amused by our tug-of-war, as he loads up my suitcase. “I’ll be waitin’ in the truck, you know, just twiddling my damn thumbs, whenever y’all are finished.”
“Funny,” Cabot growls at me, ignoring Cole. “That girl’s a loose cannon, bad influence. Why you’d go visit her beats the hell outta me.”
“Because, she’s an old friend. And, guess you haven’t been keeping up, but I surpassed the age of being influenced into doing anything I don’t want to several birthdays ago. Besides, getting away from the same ol’ thing every once in a while is refreshing; good for the soul. Speaking of same ol’, didn’t we already have this exact conversation before I left?” I hitch up my brows in saucy challenge and jut out a hip while waiting for his counter.
Almost there…
He’ll crack first, he always does, and having not seen me in a week… should be any second now.
My broody, bossy Cabot’s only weakness? Me.
“Cole get a hug?” Crack. He begrudgingly changes the subject to what he actually cares about, taking a few steps toward me.
My lips twitch, dying to smile at his advance of surrender, knowing he’ll bring along the sweet rewards of victory. “Mhmm,” I hum, slowly nodding.
Another step, putting him close enough now for me to inhale his signature scent of fresh masculinity. “Then why the hell are my arms still empty? You waitin’ on an invitation?”
“I could ask you the same,” I try to sass right back, falling just a bit shy of sassy with my entranced whisper.
Something’s… different about Cabot. I haven’t had time to start figuring out what yet, but it’s definitely there—a shift —in him, in us.
“I don’t need a fucking invitation. You’re my Minnow. I’ll hold you any goddamn time I want.” With one authoritative, sexy as hell move, he hoists me up and snug against his divinely solid body. A big man, my head barely comes to his chin, so he has to lean back in order to peer down at me, making sure I see his cocky grin. “Any objections?”
“None.” It’s but a breath.
“Glad to hear it.” That grin grows, his hold on me tightening, as he rests his forehead on mine. “I missed you, Emery.”
He pauses, his deep breaths felt as though my own, while he searches my eyes… looking for gravity. Verification that I truly understood the weight of his confession.
I did.
“Nothin’ felt right without our girl here. Promise me you’re done with the world travelin’, abandoning us.”
As badly as I want to laugh at his theatrics—I took one trip, in the same country and time zone—deceitful sorrow takes the forefront.
I can’t bring myself to do it… promise him, or lie straight to his face. So I quickly cover, forging a soft giggle and giving his chest a playful pat. “Cabot Keller, you better watch out. The real you and all your sweetness is starting to show.”
He hugs me impossibly closer, his mouth finding my ear, warm breath and smoky timbre beckoning goose bumps to cover my body as he whispers, “Only for you, Minnow. I’ll only ever show you.”
****
“You sure you don’t wanna go eat, hang out, something?” Cole pouts, adorably, when we get to my house. “You just got home, Em, and you’re already disappearing again. Gotta say, not likin’ whatever fuckin’ phase this is you’re going through.”
“Oh, stop,” I laugh. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, bright and early, promise. In fact, how about I make us a big, reunion breakfast? Sound good?”
“Not as good as a reunion dinner and movie marathon, now, does,” he grouches.
“Jesus, Cole, enough,” Cabot snaps, shaking his head. “Lady wants to be alone. Accept it, quit your bellyaching, and make yourself useful. Grab her bag while I walk her to the door.”
“Or, I have a better idea,” Cole sneers, “how about you go fuck yourself?”
Funny (except not really funny) thing is, Cabot’s the one most upset right now —but he’d just as soon have his leg chopped off before admitting it. His brooding may be done in silence, but I hear it, feel it, rolling off him in tidal swells. But I’m as used to it as I am their banter, so I leave them to it and go unlock the front door, flipping on a few lights and taking in my quaint little cottage with a whimsical sigh.
Within seconds, Cole’s right behind me, still grumbling to himself as he sets my things down in the living room. Then, punishing me… in the only way he’s capable, he gives me a tense hug and peck on the cheek… incapable of being anything short of kind and gallant, even when upset. “Welcome home, Em. See ya at breakfast. I’ll be waiting in the truck, again.” And out he stomps.
“He just missed ya, is all.” Cabot’s deep voice snags my focus from Cole’s pronounced departure back to him. “He’ll be good as new by breakfast.”
“I know.” I nod. “And you? Mad at me too?”
“Why would I be? I get it. Been away from your house, your space, stuck on a plane with a bunch of sweaty, smelly strangers; you want a breather. And, knowing you, I’d say… a hot bath, those ugly-ass flower pajamas you love, a book, and your own bed. Am I right?” He can’t help his prideful smirk.
“Eh, you get an ‘A’ for effort,” I snicker. “I packed those beautiful pajamas, so they’re dirty, and I’m too tired for a book. Excellent try, though.” A low rumble of defeat rattles his chest and I bite down on my laugh—if I goad the beast any further, we’ll be here all night.
“Lock the door behind me,” he demands, extra sternly… his consolation.
“I will.”
“Right behind me.”
“Yes, Cabot, I know.”
Chapter Two
Emery
I’m not a complete liar—I did take a hot bath, and need a breather—I just couldn’t breathe in my house. Suffocating; the walls closing in… I had to get some fresh air to help me think straight.
The guys would be furious if they knew I was here right now; alone, at night. But this spot, our spot, under the big oak tree on the creek’s edge is where I’ve always felt the most at peace… and done my best soul-searching.
Exactly what I need to do, desperately—search to the deepest depths of my soul—and come to absolute certainty with my decision. Examine things from every angle, talk it through out loud, where only the man in the moon and stars can hear me. And just maybe… give me some advice.
I scoop up a handful of pebbles, tossing one into the water with each thought; kinda like I’m making wishes for wisdom. “If I stay, I’m no worse off. I’ll still have the two best friends a girl could ever hope for, a job I love, and my house, that I adore and finally have paid off,” I reason aloud. “But,” it comes out croaked, the result of a suppressed sob, “I’l
l never have anything more than that. And eventually, I won’t just be watching them date, hookup, here and there anymore; I’ll be at their weddings—alone—dying inside.”
I listen hard, straining to hear any guidance from Mister Moon, a higher being, hell, even the crickets’ input would help… nothing.
“Yeah, I don’t know the answer either.” My laugh’s sharp and facetious, betraying my lie. I do know, I… I just can’t imagine how I’ll possibly survive if I go through with it. “Sure, I’ll have at least one friend there, Tracy, and chances are, I’ll be able to find a job and apartment pretty easily; maybe even meet a man who’s actually available. But he won’t be them, and I’ll never love him as much. Never.”
A noise startles me and I whirl my head around to investigate. Why, I don’t know; it’s pitch black out here but for the moonlight. Seeing nothing obvious, I dismiss it as a raccoon or the likes, scavenging for food, and continue my one-woman debate. “Staying here though, pining away for not one, but two men I can’t have,” I sigh, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes, “isn’t healthy. I want to be loved, made love to, have kids, a family. I’m so tired of feeling hollow inside, falling asleep and waking up next to a cold, empty spot in my bed; pretending I don’t see, and ache, when a couple passes by, holding hands.”
I wipe my tears on my sleeve, then stand, tossing a pebble in the water with my final wish of the night. “I hope time will help me move on, forward, to build a life worth living. Please, watch over my guys for me, Moon Man. They deserve nothing short of pure happiness. And I’ll be praying that they forgive me someday, come to understand why I had to… go. My mind’s made up; I’m leaving.”
After one long, last look at the spot I’ll always hold dear, I turn to take the first step toward my new future… and scream bloody, scared-shitless murder, all but falling square on my ass.
“The hell you are,” Cabot, standing behind me for who knows how long, snarls, anger radiating off him.
“H-how, um, long have y-you guys been standing there,” I stammer, true to the embarrassed fool I feel. Raccoon, Emery? Really? You know they always find you!
“Longafuckinnough.” It’s Cole’s turn to growl at me, teeth bared and gleaming white in the moonlight. “Over my, our, dead fucking bodies are you going a goddamn place, other than home with us, Emery Elizabeth McCall. Where you belong. Where you’ve always belonged!”
“What?” I blurt out—all I got—no clue what he actually means by that; as opposed to what I dare not hope he might.
“What the hell do you-”
“I got this,” Cabot cuts his twin off mid-sentence, and Cole easily concedes, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose before throwing both hands in the air with a yelled, “Have at it, ‘cause I… can’t with her right now!”
Cabot slowly approaches, reminiscent of a lion closing in on his prey, and I counter each of his steps with one of my own… backward. He smirks, clearly devilish and cunning, despite the darkness. “Couple more and you’ll be in the water. Go ahead and give up now, Minnow. Save yourself from getting all wet and cold, ‘cause you know I’ll just come in after ya there too.”
And he will, so I stop moving, being wet and cold sounding miserable... and yes, pointless. “Okay, I’m standing still, Bossy. Now will you at least tell me how much you heard, what you’re most upset about, something, anything, and quit coming at me all scary-like?” He says nothing, a dark rumble rising from deep in his chest and echoing off the trees the only sound, so I quickly switch tactics. “Cole,” I call out for him in shaky desperation, wherever he is, my eyes staying trained on Cabot. “Will you please come help me reason with your Neanderthal brother? I would’ve told you guys before I left! We can discuss things now if you want; calmly. Cole? Cole, answer me!”
“Right here,” he rasps in my ear, having popped out of nowhere, imprinting his rigid, sturdy frame on my back while gripping my hips. “Like how I snuck up on ya?” I shake my head, yet a shiver of yes runs through me, my body responding without permission. “Yeah, not a huge fan of things sneaking up on me either. Say, for instance, when I have to cat-burglar my ass through the woods to ‘A’, see if you’re here, versus kidnapped, and ‘B’, find out via your conversation with whoever the hell you were talking to, damn sure wasn’t us, that the woman I’ve been in love with for as long as I can remember loves me too! So much so, that she’s planning on running from me! Not. Happy. Em,” he grates, albeit a delicious kind of angry, nipping my earlobe for panty-melting emphasis.
Wait… pause on the panty melting… rewind. What’d he just say?
Heart palpitations of realization aside, I whirl around to face him, adrenaline supplying me the strength to power past his hold on my hips. “Cole?” The quivering therein louder than my scared whisper itself—worried beyond measure that I heard him wrong, misunderstood, or am currently dreaming. “Did you say-”
“That I love you?” He reaches up to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking soft caresses on my skin. “Yes. Hell, yes. Finally. And now that I really have your attention, I’ll tell you again. I. Love. You, Emery. I’ve loved you every minute of every day since the one I met you. I never told you because, turns out, just like you… I was afraid you didn’t feel the same, and I couldn’t risk scaring you off, losing you altogether. But,” his voice flips from sincere to incensed, “unlike you, I’ve never considered running, living a single damn day without you in my life in whatever way I could have you. Some fucked up shit, Em.” His eyes narrow as he shakes his head.
Instant, hot tears free fall, flowing down my cheeks—some in elation, most though, in debilitating fear. I’m terrified to turn around, to see Cabot’s face, finish this lose-lose battle once and for all. While Cole’s half of my heart is soaring, the other half, that has and will forever belong to Cabot, is painfully, palpably, breaking.
This. This is why I’ve loved in silent secrecy all these years. Because I won’t accept, or openly return, Cole’s love. I can’t. Not when I love Cabot just as much. Thus, the first “lose.” And if, when I turn, Cabot congratulates us, confirming that he doesn’t “love” me too… there’s the other “lose.” But now that Cole’s put it out there, currently hanging over us with unbearable weight, I have to face his brother.
I take my time pivoting, and even longer to meet Cabot’s intense stare; my knees weak, a new batch of tears threatening to spill over and my stomach violently churning. Cole bands his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder —somehow managing to give comfort while simultaneously compounding the awkwardness—but I allow it, severely in need of the former.
“Minnow?” Cabot asks me… something… his tone, hooded eyes, and slightly curled lip all unreadable. At a loss how to answer that which I don’t understand, I opt for silence. “Come ‘ere.” That voice I recognize, just as easily as the crook of his finger and wink, beckoning me to where I’m already headed.
Cole releases me and I float to Cabot. Staring up at him, thick swallows get caught in my throat, my bottom lip trembles, and there’s a strong chance I’m about to faint. “Hey now,” he soothes, tugging me into the solace of his arms. “Why you getting all worked up, worrying? I’m the one who should be nervous,” he dimly chuckles.
My eyes search his, a wicked beauty I’ve never seen before flickering in them. “Why would you be nervous?” I ask.
“Because, I’m about to tell our sweet, pure, precious girl the things of mine and Cole’s wildest dreams. If I spook ya, I’ll kick my own ass.”
“Tell me,” I beg in breathless hope.
“First, gotta question, and don’t you dare spew some bullshit lie out of pity. You hear me?” I nod, a little fearful, a lot curious. “Do you love me, Minnow? Like a woman loves a man? No ‘friend’ shit; do you really love me, the same way, just as much, as you love Cole? Do you long to feel me deep inside you, my body on top of yours, my babies growing in your belly? My kiss on your mouth every morning, night, and any other time I ne
ed a taste of you?”
Yes, no, yes... and God yes to all the rest.
Tradition is called such for a reason though, and I’m suddenly a masochistic glutton who has to hear his answer, just once, before walking away from them both, for good. So, I measure my every pant until it’s a normal breath, refuse the fire blazing inside me so it won’t announce itself when I speak, and lock stoic eyes on his ravenous pair. “Do you love me like that?”
His ‘yes’ is wordless yet unmistakable, said, rather—and better than a speech written for him by a linguistics expert—with the crashing of his mouth over mine. I’m whisked up and off my feet, his two, sturdy handfuls of my ass used to hold me hostage against him as he devours my mouth.
For a moment, I’m so lost in blissful delirium, that I still half-fear might be a dream, that I can only accept, allow, the long-overdue ravaging. Then all at once, a punch of potent desire awakens me… and every part of my body… my mind insistent that I jump in and participate.
Starved hunger at last fed, I don’t just kiss him back—I attack—vying for control. Taking fast, but craving sweet and slow. Delving deep while yearning for shallow teases and nips. I grab his cheeks and tilt his head to work the angle, needing more, deeper… swallowing his strained chuckle. He indulges me, for much longer than I expected, before finally losing his grip on restraint. Now, our tongues duel, a battle of wills… and willpower. A loud, swift slap on my ass shatters the haze and I jolt back and yelp.
“Did you… did you just spank me?” I gasp in spurts. He nods, half-lidded eyes dancing with smug superiority. “Um, why?”
“If I tell you to kiss me, then You. Kiss. Me, Minnow. Lay it on me, woman, best ya’ got. Until then? I. Kiss. You. Any time, place, or way I want. And you take it. I love your spunk, that sassy lil’ mouth of yours, but not when I’m fuckin’ it with mine. Understood?”