by Mari Carr
Threesome.
Everything had changed in that moment. The hopes and desires Harley had been slightly ashamed of, that she had dismissed as impossible, suddenly didn’t seem so unreasonable.
Which was a ridiculous thought.
Because it was still impossible.
Luc and Diego had always been…well…a couple. It hadn’t been unheard of for them to take women out together on dates, even before Harley left town. But the locals chalked it up to the two men being from “the city,” and then they dismissed it as youthful fun.
They’d never, ever seriously dated anyone, and certainly not anyone from one of Maris’ first families—the Sparks’ clan.
Harley looked across the barn and found Luc, Diego and Jeannette sitting at a table, all three of their heads close together as they talked. Luc was holding her hand, while Diego had his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Every now and then, one of the men would sneak a kiss.
“You get used to it.”
Harley jumped slightly, startled to discover Tyson next to her. He could tell what she was looking at.
“You’re used to it? I mean, she’s your cousin. It doesn’t bother you that they…?” Harley wouldn’t finish that thought aloud if someone held a gun to her head. Talk about awkward.
Tyson grinned. “No. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t catch me off guard at first. Mainly because Jeannette was always so quiet and, well…a lot’s happened since you left town. Luc and Diego are perfect for her. Only a fool would begrudge them what they have. It’s special. And it works.”
Only a fool.
Harley let those words rattle around in her mind as Tyson walked over to Caleb, the two of them leaning closer as they made sure they both found the right key on their instruments.
Logan was standing at the edge of the stage, talking to Lacy. Harley was delighted the two of them had found each other. There was no denying they were a perfect couple. When she’d been in Florida, a year had felt like a lifetime and the blink of an eye. Now that she was back, she realized that was true for Maris as well.
Time hadn’t stood still here as much as she’d always thought when she was growing up. In her youth, she swore that nothing ever changed in Maris. Her time away proved that wrong.
She was standing in a room full of family and friends, people she had known her entire life, and it felt like she didn’t know a damn thing about them anymore.
“Should we start the next set?” Tyson asked.
She nodded slowly, still distracted as she glanced around the barn.
“Everything okay, Harl?” Caleb had noticed she was preoccupied.
“Yeah. Just thinking it’s going to take me a while to figure out what’s changed and what’s the same around here. Even before I left last year, I was sort of out of things for a few months. Johnnie was sick for a while. I think I forgot to look around.”
Caleb reached out to take her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “We’ll help you catch up.”
That was another thing that had changed. The way Tyson and Caleb touched her. The tomboy in the group, she was used to roughhousing from them. They’d ruffle her hair; she’d punch them on the arm. They’d playfully pat her ass; she’d whack them on the back of the head. It was fun, harmless. The way things used to be.
Now they were gentler. They held her hand and wrapped their arms around her shoulders just like Luc and Diego were doing with Jeannette. Apparently this was the new normal. And it wasn’t helping her get over her feelings. It was making them worse.
Fortunately, Ty took his place behind the microphone. She walked next to him—her usual spot on his left. Caleb stood on the right, with Logan next to him on the end. People began to yell out requests and for the next two hours, she struggled to find that peaceful place.
Sadly, it had disappeared. She was too in tune with other things to get lost in the music this time.
There were too many things to see. The way Luc spun Jeannette on the dance floor, straight into Diego’s waiting arms, the three of them laughing, despite the disapproving glances from Eugene’s mom, Phyllis, and her sewing circle friends. There was no mistaking the judgmental glances and sideways comments.
Then she caught sight of her dad, standing near the door. She had expected—hoped—he would stay away tonight. The barn parties were BYOB and very few people came without coolers of their drink of choice. He caught her looking at him and gave her a hesitant smile before she glanced away.
Even her mom was in attendance tonight, which was a big surprise. And no surprise at all. The second she found out Harley was back, her mother was on the phone, begging her to help her leave Art, swearing that this time it would stick.
Art Johnson, Mom’s second husband, was a Grade A douchebag. While he’d never physically abused her mom, it was safe to say he’d done a number on her head. Harley had been trying, unsuccessfully, for twelve years to get her mom away from the guy. Sadly, Mom always made excuses for her husband’s temper or his jealousy or his holier-than-thou approach to basically everything and everyone. Despite Mom’s constant backpedaling, Harley kept trying to get her mom away, kept hoping that one time the separation would stick, because the guy was a total bastard.
Of course, Art had no love for Harley either. Art took “devout Christian” to new levels, criticizing Harley’s clothing if he considered it too revealing or lecturing her on how she shouldn’t be performing on stage, and his favorite nickname for her was sinner, followed closely by whore. Yeah, the guy was a real winner.
He gave Harley a hard time every time she absconded with Mom, blaming her for ruining his marriage.
Art would find out her mom was here tonight—he always did—and he would give her holy hell for it. Tell her she was wrong to listen to their music—the devil’s music. Art believed the only singing anyone should ever do was in church, and it should only be hymns.
Which meant Harley could count on a long, crying phone call from her mother tomorrow.
And then there was one thing she wasn’t seeing.
The main thing.
Johnnie wasn’t there, sitting in his chair right in front of the stage. Her biggest fan, he called himself. It was her granddad who had started hosting the barn parties, so that Johnnie could watch them perform. He’d always claim a spot front and center, only leaving it when Macie dragged him and his wheelchair out to the floor for a dance.
In the midst of that memory, she realized they were playing Johnnie’s song. God, they were already halfway through the thing and she hadn’t remembered. Harley messed up a chord and Tyson glanced over, giving her an encouraging wink, a reassuring smile.
Shit. She needed to stop looking around, stop thinking.
Just stop.
Yeah. Her mind was whirling a mile a minute. Nothing was going to stop this merry-go-round, until she got so dizzy she fell off.
It was a fast-paced song and she was struggling to keep up.
She needed to concentrate on what was happening on the stage because it was her turn to showcase her playing. Looking down, she let her fingers pluck out the melody, the motions almost second nature to her. For a brief time, the music did the trick. She focused solely on the strings, the notes. It centered her. Helped her find her way back.
At last, the song ended and a new one began. And then another. She forced herself to push away her memories of Johnnie.
It was easier now that the song her brother had always loved was over and the spotlight was off her. During this number, the focus moved to Caleb, who ran the bow along the fiddle at the speed of light. Typically, she loved hearing the music that flowed from his instrument, but all Harley noticed tonight was the strong muscles in his arms as he moved, the way his jeans fit him just right as he tapped his toe in time with the beat, and the slow slide of just one bead of sweat as it rolled along his cheek, getting caught in the five o’clock shadow that was sexy as shit.
Her pussy clenched.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
&
nbsp; Harley blew out a breath and averted her eyes. Looking at Caleb was not helping. It was just screwing with her head in a much different way.
Then Tyson took the lead again, strumming his guitar with such skill, Harley couldn’t help but watch, wondering what it would feel like if he put those fingers to use on her in the bedroom. She could still recall the way he’d gently cupped her cheeks in the barn that day. The way he’d used that soft grip to hold her in place as he kissed her.
There was nothing hotter than a man who could sing, and Tyson’s voice tonight was sending sparks along her spine, jolts of electricity to every erotic zone in her body.
She licked her lips when he glanced her way, her gaze locked on his mouth, watching it move, imagining…
She missed her cue. They were on the chorus and she was supposed to sing backup. Tyson was looking at her curiously.
Harley joined in on the next line and Tyson smiled, turning his head away once more.
So basically, she couldn’t look anywhere. Not at her family or the crowd and definitely not at the band. She couldn’t very well stand here the rest of the night with her eyes closed.
She found a spot on the back wall of the barn where her granddad had hung up his “lucky” horseshoe. It was just low enough to fool people into thinking she was looking at them. For the next three songs, she never took her eyes off it as she concentrated on her playing.
She still wasn’t able to fall into that sweet contentment she longed for. It was taking too much of her energy simply to focus on the chords and the lyrics instead of Tyson’s lips and Caleb’s firm ass and Jeannette swirling around in Harley’s dream life, Phyllis Barton’s scowl.
And Johnnie.
She’d never felt his absence more intensely than at this moment. He would know what to say to make all the shit swirling around in her head go away. He’d been her sounding board, her conscience, her counselor, her…everything.
When they finally finished playing the second encore, Tyson called a halt to their concert, reminded everyone to drive safe, and she was free at last to make her getaway.
She unplugged her banjo and put it in the case quickly, ignoring the people who’d come up to the stage to thank them for a great night. She let Tyson, Caleb and Logan handle the brief interactions that always followed the show.
Harley needed air. Lots of fresh air.
Escaping out the back door, she was able to avoid the crowd of folks taking their leave in the front of the barn. Car doors opened and closed, people called out goodbyes and engines started. A steady stream of taillights pierced the darkness of the night as everyone left.
Harley kept walking away from the barn until the voices faded. She was halfway to the second barn, the one that actually served some farming function, when she heard her name being called.
She ignored it and walked faster.
“Harley.”
It was Tyson. Though she’d really hoped to find somewhere quiet to get her shit together, she knew he would only follow her if she didn’t answer.
Turning, she was completely unsurprised to find Caleb with him. They were cutting the distance between them and her quickly.
“You okay?” Tyson asked.
“Yeah,” she lied. “It was really hot in there. I thought I’d take a breather, try to cool off.”
Neither man bought it.
“You want to revise that answer?” Caleb asked in that gruff manner he had. God help the man’s future children because they’d never get away with a damn thing.
“He wasn’t there.”
She didn’t have to say more than that. They knew who.
Harley swiped at her nose, which was suddenly running, while blinking rapidly to try to dry up the tears she really didn’t want to fall.
Both actions were pointless when Tyson stepped closer and pulled her into his arms.
“I missed him too,” he murmured.
So much for not crying. She wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging to him, hiding her face in his chest as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
Caleb stepped closer, behind her, his large, strong hand stroking her back slowly.
Neither of them said anything as she quietly fell apart. And then, eventually, she pulled herself back together.
When she felt ready to face them again, she released Tyson and took a step back. He thrust a hankie in her hand and she laughed.
“Oh my God. Are you still carrying these? What are you? Ninety?” She and Caleb had teased Tyson for years about the extremely old-fashioned handkerchiefs he constantly tucked in his back pocket.
The original ones he carried had been a treasured gift from his grandfather. It was Grandpa Tom who had taught Tyson that a prepared man always had a hankie. Harley had thought Tyson carried them as a tribute to the beloved man after his death, but as more years passed and he bought new ones to replace the old, she realized he just really liked having a handkerchief at the ready.
“Need me to show you how to use it?” Tyson lifted the soft, well-worn cotton from her hand to her face, wiping away the tears. “Joke all you want, but you’d be a mess right now if I weren’t here to save the day.”
It was hard to argue with that logic because she didn’t have a tissue and, well, she was a mess.
“Thanks,” she said. “Sorry about that. Every time I think I get my grief under control, something sneaks in and blindsides me.”
“We should have realized tonight would be rough,” Caleb said. “Stupid of us to go in there without…”
Without what?
Like Caleb, she couldn’t think of one thing they could have done to make the night easier. Short of what they’d done. Played through it.
“It’s okay, Cal,” she said. “We did what we had to do. Hopefully, as more time goes by, it’ll hurt less.”
Caleb shook his head, obviously feeling some sort of guilt. “I shouldn’t have started the ‘Orange Blossom Special.’”
It was the song she’d lost her way on, the one that had distracted her. Johnnie’s favorite. Typically when they played it, Macie would take Johnnie out on the floor, put him in the center of the circle and everyone would dance to the frantic, frenetic, fast-paced song as Johnnie laughed.
Macie hadn’t moved tonight. No one had. Harley hadn’t even realized it until that moment. They’d played the whole song, but not one person had danced.
And that thought made her even sadder.
She looked at Tyson. “Tell Macie to start the dance next time.”
Tyson nodded. “Okay. I will. Listen, Harley. I know the plan was for you to spend tonight at our place, but if you feel like you want to stay on the farm—”
“No. I don’t want to stay here. I have a new home now. Kind of looking forward to trying this roommate gig with you guys.”
Caleb chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as the three of them headed back to the party to break down the stage and grab their instruments. “We probably should have warned you, we’re not exactly the neatest guys.”
Tyson added to the list. “And the fridge is usually empty. We’ve mastered takeout and eating out. Pretty much champs at that.”
“And I never remember to finish the laundry. Good at loading the washer and running it, but—”
“But then two days go by before he remembers he started it and by then it stinks and he has to wash it again,” Tyson finished.
“There’s always gonna be a handful of dishes in the sink too,” Caleb added, pointing at Tyson, who grinned sheepishly. “His.”
“Yep. They’re mostly my coffee cups. I only wash them when I run out of clean ones.”
She grinned. “God. Wish you’d told me all this before I moved my stuff. Anything else?”
Caleb nodded. “We watch sports on TV. About ninety percent of the time. Other than that, it’s the news and River Monsters.”
She feigned a shudder. “Jesus. River Monsters might be a deal breaker.”
“What?” Tyson asked, his brows lifted.
“That is the greatest show ever.”
She shook her head. “Not even close. I’m going to have to insist that Game of Thrones and Chopped be added to the list of acceptable viewing.”
“What the hell is Chopped?” Caleb asked.
“You’ll see,” she said as they entered the barn.
“There you are,” Granddad said, walking up to them as soon as they reappeared. “I was starting to worry.” He zoned in on her face instantly. She figured there was no hiding the puffy, red eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Then she realized he looked stressed. “Are you?”
Granddad hesitated, then said, “I can’t find your dad. He’s not in the house or here.”
“Great.” Harley wasn’t so keen on being thrust back into the nightmare that was her parents. Between her mom’s constant phone calls and now this sinking feeling that said her dad had fallen off the wagon again, she wondered why she’d ever left Florida to come back.
“Harley. It’ll be okay,” Granddad said, distractedly. “I’ll find him. I’m an old man and I’m overreacting. Your dad is a grown man and perfectly capable of…”
His words faded. There was too much water under that bridge for either of them to avoid thinking the worst. And there was no way she’d leave her grandfather alone to find, well, whatever it was they were going to find.
“We’ll go look for him,” Tyson said, his hand resting briefly on her lower back, placed there to bolster her.
“I’ll check the other barn. Ty, you can circle the corrals, and Mr. Mills, you want to look around the backyard and in the other outbuildings?” Caleb asked.
And…just like that, she remembered exactly why she came back to Maris.
She came back for Tyson and Caleb. She loved them. And she feared/realized/was beginning to accept that she was in love with them too.
Granddad nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
“I’ll check the house again,” Harley offered. Her dad had better hope she wasn’t the one to find him. In her present state of mind, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
“Okay, everybody got their phones?” Caleb asked. When they nodded, he instructed them to text if they found him, and then they all took off in separate directions.