Muscling In

by Lily Harlem

  “You haven’t?” Coben seemed surprised. “Not even since…?”

  “No, only you.”

  Coben cupped his cheek. “Really?”

  A small thrill went through me. They were making progress. I could sense it. They were talking about them in front of me.

  “Yeah, really. Guess you ruined me for all other men.” Ed huffed but managed a small smile.

  They were silent for a moment, just looking at each other.

  “There was a woman,” Ed said suddenly. “Helen.”

  Coben nodded, just a little, and removed his hand. “What happened?”

  Ed frowned and glanced at his thigh. He touched a rosebud on a thorny stem that grew up his outer thigh. “She couldn’t hack it. The job, you know.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it happen to others.”

  “It was just too much to expect of anyone. I called it a day. I was dragging her down, making her life a misery. There’s no other way to describe it.”

  “I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “Really sorry.”

  He kind of shrugged. “It was for the best. I wasn’t there, couldn’t tell her where I was, when I’d be back, when I’d be going again. Don’t get me wrong, when we were together it was a blast, a really hot fucking sexy blast. What we had was intense.” He half smiled. “But the black places she went to when she was alone, worrying about where in the damn world I was. No one should have to go through that. Imagination is worse than reality and it was worse for her being left behind agonizing about me than it was for me out there getting shot at and hunted and ducking and diving.” He touched the scar on his face. “It was worse for her than me,” he repeated.

  “I’m sorry if you really cared about her, that you lost her,” Coben said.

  “She was totally heartbroken, but not like me. I’d ripped away the one thing I’d enjoyed coming back home for. The one thing that got me through shitty nights sleeping in ditches, hiding out in rat-infested caves. When we finished that one sweet thing I had was gone.”

  “How long were you together?” I asked.

  “Two years and two months. We were at the stage it was commit with a ring and all that, or split.”

  Coben nodded. “It’s got one of the highest divorce rates out there, your profession.”

  “I know, and I didn’t want to put myself or Helen through the agony of divorce, and it would have ended that way, or her going insane with worry. I didn’t want either on my conscience.”

  “And are you still in touch with her?” I asked.

  “No.” He looked steadily at me. There was sadness in his eyes. “Clean break, it’s the only way to handle these situations. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, just got to do it and forget about it.”

  “The way we did,” Coben said.

  “Yeah, except as you just pointed out.” He turned to face Coben. “Now it’s got a whole lot more complicated.”

  Coben leaned closer to him. He set a soft kiss on Ed’s tanned shoulder and lingered for a moment as if savoring skin against his lips.

  Ed’s mouth parted slightly. He shut his eyes.

  I watched, fascinated by the simple connection. The display of affection that wasn’t overtly sexual and was only the tip of the iceberg of what these two men had between them. But yet held so much tenderness—tenderness that wouldn’t be normally associated with so much brawn and muscle.

  Three children running past with a ball suddenly caught my attention. Their shouts and cries of delight were high-pitched and echoed around our small hideaway. “Hey, you two. There’s a ball in that bag. Why don’t you play volleyball or something while I eat my sandwich. We’re supposed to be having fun, after all, not being so serious.”

  Ed straightened and looked at the kids who were racing away from us and kicking up sand behind them.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Come on,” Coben said, reaching into the bag I’d indicated. “Not that Ed stands a chance. I am a volleyball king.”

  “Yeah, right.” A sudden grin sliced over his face. “I seem to remember hammering you in the past.”

  “Only because you had Lofty on your team. No one could get anything past him. His head was in the clouds.”

  Ed chuckled and followed Coben to a flat piece of sand about twenty meters away.

  After reaching for a coronation chicken wrap I settled back in my shady spot. I was content to watch the men flexing their muscles as they raced for the ball, lobbing it over an imaginary net above a sand drawn line.

  Ed laughed as he missed a shot. His face was now a picture of relaxation after the tension of minutes ago. Either he was really good at hiding his feelings or, like Coben, he relaxed after he’d gotten something off his chest and using up adrenaline with physical activity was a bonus.

  And he had opened up. A lot. I hated that Ed had walked away from two people he’d loved and I hated that Coben had missed this person who was so special to him for so long.

  How could he not have told me?

  For a moment I was hurt by that, a small dagger that twisted in my side. But then I hadn’t told Coben everything about myself—who did? I’d tried a golden shower with an ex—wasn’t really my thing but he’d enjoyed it. Once I’d gone down on a guy in the theater. Miss Saigon, if memory served me right. It was so boring I had to do something to spice up the evening. I hadn’t shared those facts with my husband. Not because they were secret, but because they didn’t make any difference to us now.

  Is that how he’d always viewed his relationship with Ed? Something that didn’t matter to us?

  Well it damn well did now. Which, thank goodness, was why he’d told me. I took another bite of my wrap, my emotions settling again.

  I saw Coben race for the ball, hands clenched together in a thick fist, the muscles in his back tensing as he hurtled through the air and reached it just in time. He flicked it up, ten…fifteen feet, in Ed’s direction.

  Ed laughed at Coben flattening in the sand, then scooted forward, speeding to send it back into the sky before it hit the ground.

  He made it and the ball went so high I squinted as I watched it eclipse the sun. The ball held suspended for a split second before plummeting back to earth. They both went for it, missed their target but collided in a thud of thick muscle and broad chest.

  “Ah fuck,” Coben shouted, falling to the ground, a wide smile on his face.

  Ed dropped to his knees, laughing also.

  A giggle tightened my stomach and jiggled my breasts—two grown men, the weight of the world on their shoulders, playing on a beach with a ball and having a great time.

  Two men.

  My men.

  I shook my head. What the hell was I doing? They weren’t my men. Well one was.

  But it was all too easy to imagine them both as mine.

  I reached for a pack of cherry tomatoes and popped one into my mouth. They were playing again, their limbs now sand-coated and their cheeks red. Coben’s shorts had slipped low, showing off the delectable indents at the base of his spine, just above the first rise of his buttocks.

  I licked my lips and reached for another tomato. Had Ed kissed him there? Tasted the sweet saltiness of his flesh in that perfect spot? I had, many times. I wouldn’t like another woman to…but Ed? That was really fucking sexy.

  My nipples were tingling, their hard points pressing against my bikini top. Oh to have been a fly on the wall when they’d been together. It would have been so sexy to see them…doing it. Doing the things that men in love did together. Would they be wild and rough or would they be sweet and slow? Did they have a preference for who gave and who received?

  I shifted on my lounger. The need for sex, the need for an orgasm, was growing. I hoped Coben would be in the mood for getting hot and sweaty later, with me, in bed.

  For another twenty minutes or so the men hit the ball backward and forward. They were covered in sand and sweat and after rolling the ball my way, I saw Coben suggest a swim.

  I picked up my book but found rather than r
eading it I was peering over the top, watching them as they plunged into the waves. They surfaced and Coben’s laughter caught on the breeze. The sound headed my way, quickly followed by Ed laughing too as he sent an arc of water over Coben’s head. A big splashing match ensued, the water churning as they kicked and flicked water at each other.

  Had they ever been able to have fun like that before? Were all their memories of sneaking around and keeping their time together undercover, censoring laughter?

  I smiled as I watched them. I adored seeing Coben so relaxed after his crazy week. Not just the last week, when I thought about it, but for a few months now. Work was busy, which was good but it meant he was going at full steam. He really needed his down time. Relaxation was good for him.

  Eventually they stopped swimming and splashing and walked out of the sea and up the beach.

  Fuck.

  They were hot. Big, shiny bodies, honed and toned in all the right places. Swimshorts clinging to their groins and leaving little to the imagination. If I’d been turned on before, now I was buzzing for it.

  If only we were at home.

  “Hey, you’re still awake?” Coben said, grinning and walking up to me.

  “Yes, I’ve been reading.”

  He stooped and set a kiss on the tip of my nose, dripping all over me.

  “Hey,” I said, holding my book out to protect it. “Watch it.”

  He glanced at the drips on my cleavage, then shook his head with vigor.

  I was showered with seawater. “Stop it!” I squealed, pushing at him.

  He laughed harder and did it some more.

  The drips were cold on my hot skin. “Coben.”

  He straightened, fun glinting in his eyes. “Couldn’t resist.”

  I laughed and reached for a towel. “I’ll get you back, when you least expect it.”

  He swiped up two cans of Coke and tossed one to Ed. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” Ed caught it and stretched out on the end lounger. He didn’t bother to dry off and his skin was peppered with drips that sparkled in the sunshine. He took a long drink, set the can aside, then settled back, hands behind his head, elbows out to the side. He shut his eyes.

  Coben opened his own can and sat on the middle lounger. He looked over at me. “You okay, babe?”

  “Yes, of course. You?”

  “Yeah.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, I really am.”

  He reached his hand out and I took it, gave it a squeeze. We didn’t need to say anything. I knew he was thanking me for how I’d handled the situation, and I was letting him know I was there for him, that I loved him. That whatever was happening between him and Ed was fine by me.

  He released my hand and guzzled the rest of his drink. Like Ed, he rested back and shut his eyes. His chest was still shifting faster than normal as he caught his breath.

  A comfortable silence washed over us and I was content to pick up my book and read as the men relaxed. A gentle breeze blew through the whispering grass and the heat of the midday sun seemed to quieten the distant crowds. The constant ebb and flow of the waves continued and it wasn’t long before the sound of Coben’s slow, deep breaths told me he was asleep.

  I set my book down and sat, needing to stretch my spine after sitting for so long. I glanced past Coben to Ed.

  I’d thought he was asleep, like Coben, but he wasn’t. He’d swung his legs round and was sitting hunched on the edge of his lounger, elbows on his knees, watching Coben sleep.

  He saw me looking at him and clasped his hands together.

  “Everything all right?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded.

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Sian,” he said, tipping his head and studying me.

  “For what?”

  “For getting it. Not many wives would.”

  “I’m not like the others.” I twitched my eyebrows.

  He grinned. “I can tell.” He directed his gaze to Coben again.

  I didn’t reply. I wondered if he’d say more.

  “I honestly never thought I’d see him again,” Ed said, almost in a whisper. “I remember, that last time we…were together. Watching him sleep, like this, and trying to take a photo with my mind’s eye, something to remember when life got too damn ugly to want to carry on, so that I’d have something special to pull me back from the edge when I went there.”

  Coben was indeed a very handsome man. He’d certainly pull me back from the edge if I were in a dark place.

  “So now what?” I asked, checking we weren’t disturbing Coben. His breathing hadn’t changed. He was still asleep.

  “What do you mean?” Ed frowned.

  “I mean what do you want from my husband now that you’ve seen him again?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “No, we’re long since over and now he’s yours, Sian. There’s no room for me. It’s about you two, your marriage, your love and commitment. I’ve appreciated today. It’s been fun, but…”

  “Why does there have to be a but?”

  “One thing I’ve learned. There’s always a but.” He half shrugged.

  “No, not here, not now, not today.”

  His brow furrowed as though he was confused.

  “The thing is, Ed.” I pulled in a deep breath. “What if I’m willing to share?”

  “Share?” He spoke a little louder, then quickly flicked his attention to Coben to make sure he hadn’t woken him.

  He hadn’t.

  “The thing is,” I went on, “Coben and I are solid. What we have is built on good foundations, love, trust, commitment and, well…there could be room for you too.”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head.

  “What don’t you know?” My heart rate went up. Had I really just said all that?

  “It could all go really fucking wrong. I don’t want to be responsible for any shit happening between you two.”

  Coben twitched his arm and batted at a bug on his biceps. He opened his eyes. “Huh,” he said. “Bloody flies.” He looked between us. “What?”

  “We were just chatting,” I said.

  “About?”

  “You.” I stood and dropped a kiss on his lips.

  “All good I hope?” He grinned up at me.

  “Of course.” I turned and reached into the picnic basket. “Anyone want more food? There’s loads left.” I started to place pots of dips and cakes and crisps on the blanket at the end of my lounger.

  “Yeah, I’ll go for some more of those sausage rolls,” Ed said. “If there’s some left.”

  “Sure.” I passed him a couple. “Coben?”

  “Crisps, please.”

  I tossed him a pack and helped myself to a cake with lemon icing.

  As I ate I listened to the men’s conversation about old colleagues. They chatted about Camp Bastion and the state of the food there. The topic moved to weapons, then bikes, then politics.

  I finished my cake and rested back. Before I knew it their deep voices were lulling me into a doze. My limbs felt heavy, my skin the perfect temperature with the warm air stroking over me. Their conversation grew quieter, their words molding together. My thoughts became disjointed as sleep engulfed me.

  I dreamed of the ocean, of the sun and the birds soaring in the sky. I heard the grass singing as it swayed, saw a wave of beach balls rolling down the beach, skittering in the wind with children chasing after them. The balls turned to horses, galloping swiftly through the water’s edge. I was mounted one, holding tight to the mane, loving the feel of its power between my thighs, the excitement of speed. Eventually it slowed. I dismounted and stroked its muzzle, my feet sinking in the deep sand. The horse was speaking my name. “Sian, Sian…”

  “Mmm…”

  “Sian, wake up. It’s getting late.”

  A pressure on my shoulder. I opened my eyes. Coben was above me. “What?” I asked, my throat a little dry.

  “I
t’s getting late. Time to pack up and head home.”

  “Oh, okay.” I stretched and yawned. My joints were stiff, my muscles a little tight. I must have slept for ages.

  “Here.” He handed me a drink. “We’ll sort this lot out. You sit for a minute and come round.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced at my phone. It was nearly five.

  “You went out like a light,” Ed said, shaking a towel.

  “I guess I was tired.”

  “And relaxed,” Coben added, shoving the ball away.

  “Yeah. I guess so.” I sat and watched as the men, quick and with military efficiency, packed everything up.

  Ed piled two loungers onto his back and loaded his arms and hands with bags and towels.

  “Ready?” Coben asked. He too was loaded like a pack horse. My only duty, it seemed, was to walk.

  “Yes.”

  He quickly folded my lounger with his free hand and we headed into the dunes.

  I glanced back at our little spot. The sand was flattened and the shadow of a gull slipped over the smooth spot the picnic basket had made. But other than that it was as if we’d never been there. As if the momentous discussion we’d had, memories made, had been a dream too.

  But they hadn’t been a dream. I knew that. And something inside told me this was just the start of something that could be very special. If only everyone was brave enough to say what they wanted and take that chance.

  Chapter Seven

  “So now what?” I asked, dropping my purse into the car.

  Ed had pulled on his leathers and held his helmet poised over his head.

  “Stop at a restaurant?” Coben suggested, patting his stomach. “I’m getting hungry again.”

  “I don’t fancy eating while I’m all hot and sandy,” I said, brushing several grains from my arm; I could feel them nestled between my toes too. “How about we just hit the road for home and I’ll rustle us up some pasta or something. You up for that, Ed?”

  “I don’t know. Might just head back to my place. I’ll need a shower after this trip on the bike.”

  “You’ve got to eat,” Coben said. “And we’re really modern. We have a shower at ours.” He grinned. “Come on.”