Butterfly Madness [Loving in Silver 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Lynn Stark

  The men were sitting beside her on the bench by now, one on either side of her. Grayson poured more wine in her cup. She didn’t want to get drunk, but felt like she really needed to bolster her courage at that moment. She wasn’t normally a snoop, but had to satisfy her curiosity. She would examine later the sensation of feeling a moment of happiness when she had learned the two handsome, sexy men were bisexual.

  “Silver’s never been a conventional kind of town. It was founded more than a hundred years ago by a group of gay men. They came out here from the east, hoping to make a place where they could live and work without being persecuted for who they were. It wasn’t easy, even in the middle of the wilderness. They established themselves here, many quite successful in their business ventures. Many of them married in order to be able to pass on their wealth to their children. It developed from there. It’s not unusual here for a woman to be married to two or more men. There are even two and three women married to several men.”

  Roarke nodded. “There are a lot of gay and lesbian couples here. Some have moved here, others were born and raised here, making their own families now that they’re adults. Some people describe them as alternative lifestyles. Around here we just call it normal.”

  “And straight couples?”

  “There’re still plenty of those around.” Grayson grinned. “They’re not on the endangered species list.”

  It was a little hard to comprehend. Her mind was spinning. One woman could be with several men? Wow. Hell, her own parents hadn’t managed to stick together for more than five years. Marriage had been a big mistake on their part. They divorced and her father took off. She hadn’t seen him since he had returned long enough to get her mother pregnant and clean out his ex-wife’s bank account. She had been ten at the time. As she grew older the memories just made her cynical to ideas of love and marriage. If a regular, normal relationship couldn’t always work, how did these complex relationships manage to work do it?

  “Are these people nuts? Two people have a hard enough time together. How do so many live together and get along?”

  “They don’t always get along,” Grayson said with more than a hint of sadness in his voice. “They have problems just like everyone else. But you have to remember that many of these people have grown up with multiple parents. They’ve witnessed their parents developing relationships through the years. Then you have other children who have grown up to enter into monogamous relationships.” Broad shoulders shrugged. “It’s whatever works for the individuals involved.”

  “And we could talk about this all night. There’s a lot to talk about.”

  Marley nodded, sipping at the wine before answering. She didn’t know what she thought about all this. It didn’t change how she felt about the town. It was a beautiful place. It was also peaceful, something she wanted in the worst kind of way. She needed time to think, to heal, and to figure out what she wanted for her future.

  “I can see that.” She smiled weakly before standing up. She took the empty cups from the men. “Thank you for the wine and the history lesson. Silver just keeps getting more interesting every day.” She held up the cups. “I hope we didn’t break any laws by drinking in the park.”

  Roarke laughed and shook his head. “Nope, not a single one. Drinking in the park is quite legal. One bottle of wine or one six pack of beer for every three people. No hard liquor. Besides, this hunky sex god here is the sheriff. What’s he going to do, handcuff himself?” She watched as the two men looked at each other, sharing secrets she wasn’t in on. A stab of envy surprised her. “Well, that could be interesting.”

  Laughing, Marley shook her head. “On that note, I believe I’ll say goodnight to you gentlemen. It was nice meeting you.” She began moving away. “I’ll be opening an art gallery on the corner of South Silver Street and Sterling in a couple of weeks, if you’d like to stop by to look some time.”

  “We’ll do that. And if you need any help with anything, just give Gray a call at the sheriff’s office. One or both of us will be happy to help out.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  The dogs fell in beside her as Marley left the park. She could feel the men’s gazes following her. They were looking her over, she thought, checking her out in a sexual manner. The knowledge did more things to her body than she really wanted to think about. She shouldn’t be thinking about romance, or sex, or anything remotely related, she told herself firmly. She was supposed to be dealing with her sister’s death, her grief over it, not wondering what it would be like to have two gorgeous men making love to her at the same time.

  Guilt ate at her as she made her way back to the Redford mansion. There were a few others out enjoying the quiet and cool evening. Some nodded in a friendly manner and passed by. Others stopped her for a brief chat, introducing themselves and admiring the dogs. They were all amazed Colt was allowing the dogs to stay in the house. She smiled and assured them that her dogs were very well mannered. She managed not to cringe as she recalled the close call with the table and vase.

  Marley wasn’t surprised when Mrs. Reed opened the front door for her. The woman was the mistress of efficiency. “How was your walk?”

  “It was very nice. I met Grayson Evans and Roarke O’Malley in the park.”

  The housekeeper smiled brightly. “So the boys found you. They came here shortly after you left. I hope it was all right that I told them your direction?”

  She smiled reassuringly. “It’s quite all right. Grayson is the sheriff, after all. If you can’t trust him, who can you trust?”

  “Those are two fine men. Do you need anything before you go up? Would you like a cup of coffee or a snack?”

  It had only been a few hours since the delicious supper the woman had prepared for her. She shook her head. “No, I’m good. Thank you. Goodnight, Mrs. Reed.”

  “Goodnight, Ms. Jacobson. Sleep well.”

  Sleeping well would be a miracle. Marley hadn’t slept well since Callie’s death. She still kept dreaming about their times together. Sometimes she would dream of them spending time on the beach or riding horses. When Callie’s cancer had finally gone into remission and she had gotten stronger, she was determined to experience as much of life as she could. They often spent weekends together. Marley would take her little sister to the mountains to camp or hike. There hadn’t been much she didn’t try, eager to make up for the time lost while being treated for her illness. She certainly had lived life to the fullest and had given Marley a new outlook on how she lived her own life.

  She was just stuck in the middle right now, she told herself as she and the dogs made their way up the winding stairs to the private north wing where her bedroom was located. Once the pain and shock of Callie’s death softened some, then she would be able to think about the future. Right now she was in a new place, beginning a new life. That had to be enough for the time being. Who could expect more?

  The next morning Marley was up early and ready to go. Mrs. Reed offered to make her breakfast, but she declined the offer. There were several people moving around the house, and she guessed it was the crew which kept the huge place meticulously clean. She had yet to see a speck of dirt. There were tours on weekends, so she guessed that they were in a constant state of preparation. As she left the house she grinned, imagining a full crew converging on the bedroom she and the dogs were using, dressed in hazmat gear, and vacuuming, shampooing, and spraying odor neutralizer as if their lives depended upon it. She would have to remember to leave gifts for everyone when she moved out.

  Walking to the back of the house with the dogs, she opened the back of her SUV. Barney and Martha climbed up in, and then hung their heads over the rear seat. A protective cover was a good barrier for happy, drooling dogs. Barney woofed impatiently, waiting for her to get in and get moving.

  “Oh, you’re silly.” Barney woofed again, a long rope of drool sliding down to the covered seat.

  Deciding to take the scenic route to the gallery, meaning she would drive in
to a section of the town she hadn’t explored yet, Marley drove up one street and down the next, driving slowly and looking over the houses. Colt told her he didn’t have many houses which would satisfy the list she had made. She had looked at two and had to agree. While they each had some things she wanted, what they did have couldn’t be fixed at all, such as the size of the yard. The second house needed a lot of work and would cost more than she was willing to spend.

  In other words, she hadn’t found that special house, that one which would call out to her when she saw it. She smiled as she recalled how she and Callie would talk about the house they would live in one day. They both decided they wanted a Queen Anne style house with turrets and balconies and ornate trim. It would have a special magic which would draw her to it.

  As Colt’s mansion proclaimed, it was the place to find such houses, but she was looking for something a bit smaller and a lot less intimidating. A Queen Anne with a spacious yard and a large tree or two was what she wanted. She would know it when she saw it.

  It’s perfect. Situated about a mile from the edge of town, with no neighbors to speak of, sat a lovely Queen Anne on a rise slightly above a lush, sweeping green lawn. It was big, but not too big, since she considered two acres a nice size for a yard for her dogs. It had enough charm to make that sourpuss Ms. Jersey smile.

  There were also two very familiar men walking out onto the front porch, making her heart flutter. They stopped in midembrace as they saw her SUV idling at the edge of the road. It couldn’t even be called a proper street, as it was heading into the outlying countryside. Yes, it was in the perfect spot. And the occupants obviously knew it.

  “Darn it!” Marley grumbled even as she smiled and waved at the men as they recognized her. When they hurried off the porch and across the large expanse of lawn, she braced herself for the sensations their closeness would stir in her body. “Darn it,” she muttered again.

  Roarke was grinning from ear to ear. Grayson was smiling, but was more reserved as he looked her over with curious green eyes. “Good morning, Marley. What brings you out this way?” he asked as he slipped an arm around Roarke’s waist, the man leaning comfortably into his larger body.

  “Good morning, Grayson, Roarke. I’m house hunting before I go to the gallery.” Her gaze slid past him to her and Callie’s dream house. “Wouldn’t want to sell it, would you?”

  “No. I’m afraid not. You wouldn’t want to live here with us, would you?” Roarke asked cheerfully, a devilish gleam in his gray eyes.

  The idea was titillating, but not a possibility. She had a long way to go before she even thought about dating a man. Forget about dating two of them. She didn’t care if she was now living in a place where many people were open and happy with who they were, where unorthodox relationships were the norm. If she wasn’t healed inside, she couldn’t offer anything to any man just yet.

  Shaking her head, Marley smiled weakly. “Not just yet,” she told him, and then blinked as she realized the implication. “I mean, no, I don’t think that would work out. Well, it’s a beautiful house. You’re lucky guys. I’ll see you later.”

  “Later, Marley,” Roarke said as she pulled away.

  It didn’t escape her notice that Grayson hadn’t said anything. But he had been watching her very closely. He knew. Oh, yeah, he knew that deep down she was more than a little interested in the two of them. “Oh, Marley Kay, what have you gotten yourself into?”

  Chapter Three

  Grayson watched the cherry-red SUV disappear down the road to pick up the first paved street into Silver. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about Miss Marley Jacobson. She might have said no, but there was more than a little interest in those lovely blue-green eyes of hers. And he didn’t think her interest had much to do with the house.

  “Well, you weren’t much help,” Roarke complained petulantly.

  “Are you pouting?” Grayson asked, looking down at his lover. Yes, the beautiful man was pouting. Bending his head, he kissed the delicious mouth. “Stop. I didn’t say anything much because I’m not rushing anything. Colt told us she’s got some issues she has to work through. We’ll let her get to know us. When she’s comfortable enough with us, then maybe she’ll share what’s going on in her life.”

  Roarke nodded, frowning. “She did look sad. And not just about the house. Though her disappointment almost makes me feel guilty for living here.”

  Pulling the man close, Grayson dipped his head and kissed him long and hard, their tongues dueling as their bodies heated up. They’d had an energetic, playful night and it wasn’t any hardship on either of them to want to go another round. Except that they both had to go work.

  “Don’t worry, babe. I believe Marley will be living here before too much time has passed. We just have to go easy. We don’t want to scare her off.”

  Getting Roarke, with his natural exuberance, to go slow wasn’t going to be easy. But after a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Okay. I wouldn’t want to rush her into anything she didn’t really want. But once she realizes what a great catch we are, she’s not going to be able to resist.”

  Okay, so his lover had a great positive attitude, too. It helped in balancing their relationship out, since he tended to be a “stick in the mud” according to Roarke. It’s what made them such a great match.

  “I’ve got to get going.” He kissed him again. “I’ll meet you for lunch, if I’m in town.” He winked. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

  “I haven’t gotten in trouble in weeks.”

  “That’s what has me worried. You’re about due.”

  He watched as Roarke walked back into the house. The man had a fantastic ass, which he had shown off to perfection in a pair of black leather chaps the night before, when they had played “Ride the Cowboy.”

  Taking off his hat, Grayson got in his truck and backed out of the driveway. As he drove to the sheriff’s office he thought about Marley. She wasn’t only pretty, with her large eyes, high cheekbones, and smooth oval face. He felt there was a depth of character there they had yet to discover. They would once they got to know her. He hadn’t let on, but he was as anxious as Roarke was to get Miss Jacobson to eventually agree to go out with them. Of course, she would have to get over the first hurdle as far as they were concerned. She would have to accept the fact that there were two of them, two men who were attracted to her. Since she was new to town, new to seeing the varied relationships, it would take time for her to understand that such relationships really did work.

  Parking the truck behind the sheriff’s office, Grayson hurried inside, knowing his secretary was probably on the verge of calling and scolding him for being late. Somehow she always managed to forget who was boss. Or he did. He wasn’t really sure anymore. Marge was more suited to be one of his deputies and track down criminals than she was to push around papers and answer the phone. And she scared him at times. He often wondered if she was stable.

  “It’s about time you got your sorry ass here,” Marge growled, pushing her owl-eyed glasses back up into place on the bridge of her nose so she could stare at him in that way of hers that made him want to squirm. “Been more calls for you today than any other I can remember.”

  “Who were they from?”

  She handed him a stack of the sticky notes she used for messages, and then dismissed him without another word or look. Man, he’d gotten off easy this morning. The woman’s tongue was like a scouring pad. Going into his office he closed the door and went to his desk. As he sat down he went through the messages, noting that most of them were from the owner of the liquor store. Marge was demented. Shaking his head he picked up the phone and called Ned Taylor to see what he needed. Marge, in her usual manner, hadn’t written out any kind of message. It was an irritating habit and made him wonder if he really shouldn’t replace her. Yeah, right, as soon as he hired someone to tell her she no longer had a job.

  Chickenshit, Grayson told himself with a chuckle as he listened to the ringing go
on and on. Knowing Ned as well as he did, he knew the man wouldn’t have called him so many times if it hadn’t been important. Grabbing his hat, he left the office without a word to Marge. If something had happened to Ned, the woman would be gone.

  The front of the liquor store was locked, as he had expected it would be. It didn’t open until noon, but Ned started his day early down in the store. He couldn’t see inside because the blinds were still pulled down. Going around to the back he saw the door had been broken into, the frame splintered. His mouth tightened. He had warned Ned that he needed to get a steel door with a reinforced jamb installed. The man was cheap, though, and couldn’t be reasoned with. According to Ned he had a perfectly good door, there was nothing wrong with the jamb that was in there, so he wasn’t going to spend the extra money to replace something that didn’t need replaced. Pulling his pistol from its holster he pushed the door back gently.

  “Hey, Ned!” he shouted. “Are you in there?”

  No answer. Grayson moved down the narrow back hallway, peering into the storeroom as he went. No one, just cases of liquor stacked neatly. He sniffed as he smelled an unpleasant blend of different alcoholic beverages. Moving on after glancing in the office and seeing nothing but a paper mess, he went into the sales area. Nothing was neat there. Broken bottles and liquid were everywhere. The place reeked. He picked his way around, moving down the three aisles, checking for any sign of Ned. It would be just like the man to confront someone in his store.

  Grayson found Ned in his tiny office when he looked in there again. The elderly man was sprawled on the floor behind the huge oak desk, a bloody wound on his head. His cell phone was in his hand. Cursing, he kneeled on scattered papers and checked the man for a pulse. He had one, but it was faint. Pulling out his phone he called for an ambulance first, then a deputy.

  “Hold on, old guy. We’ll get you some help,” Grayson told the unconscious man in a gruff voice. Ned was like many in the community, someone he had known his entire life. He was cheap, he was rather surly on his good days, and downright mean on bad ones, but the man would help out his neighbor without even blinking. Beneath the worn and faded clothes, and the boney little chicken chest, beat a heart of gold. He might not have wanted to spend his money on new clothes and a new door, but he would have given it all to someone who needed it. Losing Ned would be losing a part of Silver. “Hey, I hear the ambulance already. They’re making damned good time today. You’ll be at the hospital in no time.” There was a moan from the man. “Don’t worry about it. You won’t have to pay the bill.”