by Sarina Wilde
“Sweet, sweet Greer,” he groaned, and opening his eyes found himself staring straight into Chas’ dark-blue gaze. His hand cupped Liam’s cheek. Liam leaned into the touch and let his eyes close for a moment. He reached forward, finding Greer’s hand and guiding it down until they were locked together with Chas’.
“I need to come,” Liam groaned, and after getting a nod from Chas, he thrust with more force. Chas stopped, simply holding Greer while Liam pumped. Beneath him, she moaned, raising her ass for his loving, her muscles clamping and releasing until he was mindless. His balls tightened and his shaft swelled as his climax boiled. With a hoarse grunt, he let his orgasm take over, then saw Chas throw his head back as he too began pumping again.
Liam fell back, eyes slits as he watched Chas roll Greer underneath him while he finished. She had her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and her head thrashed from side to side as she climaxed. Chas thrust forward once more, the muscles in his ass clenching and releasing along with his cum. Liam rolled back over to them, wrapping his arms around them both.
There was no need to say anything. One look in Greer’s eyes and he simply stroked his fingers down her cheek then brushed his lips against Chas’ shoulder. They fell asleep, tangled in a tight embrace and more than happy to be there.
* * * * *
Greer hummed as she did the laundry the next day. She knew she had a silly grin on her face, but that was okay. No one would make fun of her. As she climbed the back steps to the master suite, the house phone rang. After setting the basket on the crisply made bed, she answered.
“Greer, it’s Chas.”
Her brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
“No, but you need to let Liam know I’m going to be running a couple of hours late this evening. I’ll be at the hospital a little longer than expected, but I’ll still have time to get what he wanted done.”
That sounded a little vague, but she supposed Liam would know what Chas meant. “All right. Wasn’t he answering his cell?”
“No. I figure he’s set it somewhere again and has the air compressor running in the studio. I did leave him a text, but I want to make sure he gets the message.”
“I’ll give it to him.”
There was a brief pause on the other end.
“How you doing?”
Greer tugged her ear, feeling suddenly like an awkward teenager again. “Good.”
“Sore?”
“No. I’m okay.”
“So nights like last night are repeats?”
“Oh yes, definitely.”
The chuckle coming through the phone was all masculine satisfaction. “Good, because I want us to do that again.”
In the background, she heard a page.
“Gotta go. Don’t forget to remind Liam about what I said.”
“I won’t.”
Greer had no sooner hung up than the phone rang again. She rolled her eyes then noticed the caller ID showed her parents’ home number.
“Mom?”
“Hi, honey. We hadn’t heard from you in a while, but I guess Dr. Lynch and Mr. Carle must be keeping you busy, and that house is so big. Do you have any help?”
Greer laughed. If only her mother knew just how busy the two were keeping her…well, maybe better not to go there right now.
“No. I don’t have help, but they’re really easy to keep house for. Liam’s little boy, Wyatt, is a real sweetheart.”
“Does he live with his daddy?”
“Not as much as he’d like to. Was there a reason you called other than just to chat? I mean, I love hearing your voice and all…”
“Well, as a matter of fact…” Greer smiled as she wedged the phone between her head and her shoulder while she put away clothes. “We wanted to invite you to dinner. Do you get any time off?”
“Well, technically, I haven’t had any off yet, and I’m really done for the day once I’ve cooked the evening meal. Liam and Chas are great about cleaning after. It shouldn’t be a problem. What time?”
“Seven? Will that work?”
“It should. Chas is running late, so I’ll fix something cold they can simply take out of the fridge whenever.”
Greer disconnected, looking forward to the evening. She wanted her parents to see things were going well, and she was happy. No way was she anywhere close to letting them in on where her relationship with her employers really stood. Her parents were open-minded, but she wasn’t sure they were that open-minded.
Liam’s reaction was not quite what she’d hoped.
After finishing the laundry, she headed to the studio to relay Chas’ message, and also to work more on her own piece. For her first attempt, she’d decided to do the model in clay and then cast it. Liam, of course, would supervise.
Before she even reached the door, she heard the air compressor. Liam was under the gun to get the piece done for the Children’s Museum, and he was nearly there. The dedication was set for the coming weekend.
He turned the compressor off as soon as she came in and smiled at her.
“Hey, baby. What’s up?”
“Check your text messages. Chas called to say he’ll be delayed a couple of hours at the hospital, but he’ll still get your errand done.”
He reached behind him and nabbed his phone, tapped the screen a couple times and scanned the text. When he was done, he shoved it in his pocket. “‘S cool.”
Greer shifted back and forth, drawing an inquiring look from Liam. “My mom’s invited me over for dinner. Seven. Since…since I haven’t really had any time off, I told her okay.”
Liam’s brows snapped together and she couldn’t tell if he was pissed or what. She was trying to come up with some rationale other than she hadn’t had time off—that just sounded too whiny—when his brow cleared. “That’s okay. Chas and I can go grab something out.”
“I can fix something,” Greer protested.
Liam smiled. “No. We’ll handle it. You have a good time.” He winked at her. “We’ll be waiting for you when you get home. Now why don’t you get your piece back out and let’s take a look at it.”
Greer soon forgot about his reaction as she immersed herself in the clay and the nuances of what she was trying to get across. Liam helped her smooth some angles, then leaned back.
“I think you’re ready to work on casting it. Let’s get some photos of it as it is now, just in case, then we’ll get our mixture set for the mold. I still think you should consider doing this as a larger piece in stone.”
“I might, but I feel like I need to take baby steps here.”
Liam laughed. “This isn’t exactly a baby step.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re good, Greer. I think you should try to get enough pieces together for a showing.”
She laughed. “Who’d want my work?”
He arched a brow. “You’ve got a great endorsement.”
“You?” She shook her head. “That seems a little biased.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t say you were good if you weren’t. Not my style.”
She’d hurt his feelings. She could hear it in his voice. Laying a hand on his muscular forearm, she waited until he looked at her to speak. “I’m sorry, Liam. I know you wouldn’t. The question is whether other people will believe that.”
He started to say something then stopped, uncharacteristically fiddling with some of the clay tools sitting on the work table. His mouth quirked and he looked at her from beneath the lock of hair falling onto his forehead. “They will, but we’ll leave that for now. Let’s get to work.”
When she left the studio to go back to the house to clean up, her clay sculpture certainly didn’t resemble what she’d created. It looked more like Frankenstein’s monster with metal shims sticking out all around the two halves of the mold.
She’d cast it a dubious look, but Liam had just laughed and patted her on the back. “Don’t worry. It will be great.” He’d leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
; Chapter Twelve
It felt strange to climb in her little car and head toward her parents’ house. She’d gotten used to taking one of Liam’s vehicles to run errands, especially while Wyatt was there. As she drove down the narrow country road, the dappled shade of the sycamores and cottonwoods bordering each side were the only things interrupting the shimmering haze of the summer evening. Greer paid it little attention. Having grown up in the humid stillness, it just felt reassuringly normal.
That sense of normalcy only expanded as she turned into the long drive leading to her childhood home. This was something that would never change. The house had stood for nearly two centuries. Sure, there’d been modernization—bathrooms, electricity. The air-conditioning had come during her time. She realized with an understanding and acceptance she’d lacked for a long time that her own home held as much history as Liam Carle’s. It might not have the size or the vast amount of acreage of his estate, but in its own way it was equally significant.
For just a moment, Greer sat in the driveway and stared at the simple log cabin. It was weathered, and showed some of the ravages of its years, but inside she knew was warmth and love. She’d found that in Liam’s home—but she’d had to dig a bit before it was apparent. A lesson lurked in there somewhere and she wasn’t quite sure yet what it was, just that she needed to figure it out.
“Sweetheart!” Her father came down the steps from the screened-in porch with a smile lighting his face. “You were able to get away a little earlier?”
She shut the car door and hustled over to give her dad a hug. “Liam told me not to worry about dinner. He and Chas would handle it on their own.”
Her dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the porch. “Well we’re glad you’re here. Your mother’s in the kitchen fussing. You know how she is. So, are those two men treating you right?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Marvelously, amazingly right. Greer began to wonder how she would get through the evening without giving away how she felt about Liam and Chas.
Her mother was rinsing a dish and loading it in the dishwasher. One thing you could always count on with her mom—there was never a mess after dinner because she cleaned while she cooked. As a teenager, that had made Greer’s household chores much easier. As someone keeping house for two men, she now had a much greater appreciation for her mother’s neatness.
Her mom dried her hands on a nearby towel, shut the dishwasher then wrapped Greer in a hug. “Wow. I got so used to having you home again, I’ve missed you, honey.”
“Oh, Mom.”
“You look well.”
She smiled at her mother and her dad. “I am. It’s been a good decision.”
“Tell us about it.”
Greer leaned back against the counter, out of her mother’s way as she continued to bustle about preparing dinner, and began, “Well, you know it’s a big house. After all, we’ve passed by it nearly every day of my life.”
“Isn’t that a lot of work for one person?”
“Not really. When it comes right down to it, only a handful of rooms get used with any regularity, so the rest of them I just look in on one day a week to dust and vacuum. It helps Liam and Chas both are fairly neat. I mean—sorry, Dad—they are guys.”
“What about the boy…Wyatt, didn’t you say?”
Greer smiled. “He’s wonderful. Three, so still a bit of baby left in him, but he’s fun. He was with us all week. His mom just picked him up yesterday.” She sighed. “He didn’t want to go.”
“Didn’t want to go back to his mother?” Her mom’s tone was incredulous.
“He’s got the usual scared to go to bed at night fears. While he was with us, I did the monster hunting scenario Daddy used to go through with me. I guess no one will do that for him at his mom’s house.”
“Such a simple thing,” her dad commented, shaking his head. “I guess we forget, as adults, how scary the world can be to a little one—and how easily we can alleviate that fear.”
“So, what did you do?” her mother asked as she removed the roast from the oven.
“I sewed a quarter in the foot of his teddy bear and told him it was a superpower microchip, so his teddy bear would go on guard duty while he slept. All he had to do was squeeze the button every night.”
Her parents laughed. “That’s brilliant,” her father added.
Greer went to the cupboards and removed dishes to set the table while her parents split setting the food out and getting drinks for everyone. Once they had filled their plates and begun eating, her mother spoke again.
“I still find it hard to imagine a three-year-old who isn’t overjoyed to go back to his mother.”
Greer swallowed the bite of food she had and stared at her plate for a moment. “Me too. I hate to even voice this idea, but it just feels like there’s something else going on. Wyatt was pretty clingy all week.”
“What do you think is happening?” Her father’s quiet tone told her he’d gone into professional mode.
“I don’t know.” Worry ate at her. “When he’s around Chas and Liam…and me, he seems like a normal, well-adjusted little kid. I don’t want to read too much into it. I mean, it’s obvious he adores Liam and Chas both, and I’m sure he wants his daddy around all the time, but…”
“You just feel something’s out of whack.” he finished. “Trust your gut. What’s his mother like?”
“Cold. Snobby.” Greer chuckled. “Of course, we’re not exactly on speaking terms. I’m just the help.”
Her mother’s raised brows said it all.
“I know, Mom. Even in this day and age, there are still people who look at you as something less than their equal simply because you clean their home or cook their food.”
“I hope that’s not the case with your employers.”
“Not at all.”
“It’s a shame Wyatt can’t be with his dad more. It sounds like he’s happier there. I have no idea where his mother lives, but Liam Carle’s estate always struck me as being the perfect place to be if you were a kid.”
Greer set her silverware on her plate. “I agree. I wish Wyatt could be there more.”
“The courts are a lot friendlier to fathers seeking custody these days.” Her father sat back, idly playing with the teaspoon still resting next to his plate. “Unless there’s something Carle’s concerned would come out…”
There it was, hanging out there, her dad’s suspicion again about Liam and Chas. Must be that instinctual response. When she didn’t say anything in protest, her father’s hand stilled on the spoon.
“Greer?”
“They are a little unconventional,” she murmured.
“Gay?”
She shook her head. “No. They definitely like women.”
“They’re bi.” It was her mother who spoke. Greer and her dad both jerked their heads sideways to look at her mother who simply shrugged. “Look, it was pretty obvious to me the two of them are in a relationship, but they just didn’t seem complete.”
Greer’s brow furrowed a little dubiously. “Look, Mom, I don’t want to come off sounding like you’re old or anything, but I have to admit I’m a little surprised by your…frankness and your tolerance.”
A faint flush crept into her mother’s cheeks. “Well, I never really felt like I should broadcast my past like a tabloid—”
“Oh God, am I about to get way too much information?”
“No.” Her mother sniffed. “I had a very good friend in college who lived with two men. That is to say, they all lived together…and not platonically. As a matter of fact, they still do.”
Her father sat back in his chair with a thunk. “Susan and Eric…and Mike?”
“Well, yes,” her mother agreed. “They put up a front, you know, with Mike ‘living’ in the apartment over the garage, but they’ve been a trio since forever.”
“What about their kids?” her dad asked.
“What about them? Since Susan and Eric made their arrangement legal, the chil
dren all carry his last name…they’re just lucky enough to have two dads there for them.”
Greer shifted. Now she was the one playing with her silverware. Her mother touched her arm. “Is there something you want to tell us, honey?”
* * * * *
Chas couldn’t believe the day he’d had. In addition to a surgery that had been hopeless from the start, the end of the day had been a meeting between hospital administrators and him. His chief had been there as well, offering support for which Chas was grateful.
“You know, Chas,” Mike Brandt said as they left, “I know you shared the nature of your relationship with Carle in confidence, and I respect that confidence. I just feel you could make this whole thing go away if you would just inform the board. No one’s going to hold it against you that you’re gay.”
“I’m not gay.”
Mike Brandt stopped, gazing narrow-eyed at Chas. “Why don’t you step into my office. I think maybe the two of us need to talk more in private.”
Once the door was closed, Brandt motioned him to one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. Instead of sitting behind the desk, though, the chief of surgery sat in the other vacant seat.
“Chas, I’m not sure why Dr. Marlowe singled you out, but if I’m going to help you fight this thing, you need to be up front with me. Am I wrong in believing you told me Liam Carle was more than a friend…that he’s your lover?”
“You’re not wrong. We are lovers, but we’re bisexual.”
“So…does this mean there’s also a woman one or both of you is involved with?”
Chas pressed his lips together. He didn’t really want his private affairs out there in the public.
“Chas, I’m not your enemy.” Mike Brandt sighed, reached over to the desk and handed Chas a family photograph.