I started to get the feeling that I was looking for someone as both strangers and vaguely familiar faces continued to stream by.
Then Finn appeared. Unlike all the others, he stopped. He looked into my eyes, his expression curious and earnest, then he leaned in and kissed me, his movements both gentle and deep. Warmth flooded over me, but then he released me and passed by me as all the others had.
After he left, there became more of a sense of urgency that I find someone, as thick crowds continued to move by me. Then Reid appeared. He passed me, and I felt intensely sad that he didn’t stop, but suddenly he grabbed my hand and twirled me around, making me laugh before he pulled me into a big hug. He held me for a few breaths, my chest pressing into his hard body, then he tipped up my chin and put his mouth on mine.
Everything felt right for those moments, but then Reid released me and moved along, as if he was robotic and had been programmed to do so.
I started turning, weaving in and out of the crowd, becoming frantic to find whatever it was that I was looking for. I grabbed people’s shoulders and looked deep into their eyes, but none of them were right.
Christine appeared, but I knew it wasn't her that I was looking for. She touched my hand as she passed. I found my ex, Doug, and I started to cry as I pushed past him, our shoulders bumping awkwardly. I thought I saw Michael Nolan ahead, and I stretched on tiptoe, searching the crowd to see if someone was with him.
My chest was heaving as if I'd been running. I started to cry out, and then arms were around me, strong, steady, and sure. I wrapped my arms around the figure, with a sense of relief that I'd found what I'd been looking for. Hands stroked my hair, and fingers wiped the tears from my eyes.
The comfort I felt was immediate and complete, and my dream self was not at all surprised to look up into Mitchell’s face. He smiled down at me and whispered endearments as he ran his finger along my lower lip. I couldn't pull my eyes from his and didn't want to, anyway.
I reached up to trace the hard angles of his lean face and ran my finger over the crooked line of his nose. He smiled down at me before bending to me, and finally, we kissed, seeming to melt into each other. The kiss quickly became deeper and more passionate. I wrapped my arms around him and he reached under my shirt, stroking my bare skin.
We explored each other's mouths as he pulled me closer. When I felt the hardness of his erection pressing against my hip, I gasped.
And I woke up.
The emotions I feel upon waking are as confusing as the dream itself. There are real tears in my eyes but I’m also aroused. I feel the pain of longing that I felt in the dream, but I also feel the sense of peace and comfort I had each time one of the Nolan brothers was with me.
I check the bedside clock; it’s just after four. The alarm won’t be going off for twenty more minutes, but there’s no sense in going back to sleep.
The dream is still heavy in my head and feels more like reality than a dream. If I keep to the same schedule as yesterday, I might run into the guys before I leave for work, and the thought of facing them has me squirming with discomfort. Will I be thinking about kissing them when I see them? Will they somehow be able to tell what I've been thinking?
Their touches in the dream were not merely brotherly. Do I want more from them? Or do I think they might want more from me? Things with Reid and Finn have sometimes seemed flirtatious, but Mitchell has never been anything but brotherly toward me, so why did I dream about such intimate contact?
I need more time to shake off the dream, so I get ready for work quickly and quietly. I'm in the middle of scribbling a “have a good day” note at the kitchen table when Mitchell steps into the dim room.
“Is Lucky opening up early?”
I look up, startled, and immediately need to look away. That quick glance is enough for me to take in his sleep-tousled hair, bare chest and grey sweats hanging low on his lean hips. Unable to stop myself, I look again, this time drawn to the trail of dark hair leading from his navel down into those loose sweats. My eyes slide quickly down to his bare feet which somehow seem intimate in this space. Am I still dreaming?
It takes a moment for me to find my voice. “I… couldn't sleep. Thought I'd head out early.”
“Is everything okay?”
It seems rude not to look at him, but looking at him feels so dangerous. My dream, which still hasn’t left me, pushes back to the forefront, and I can feel what it was like to kiss him.
But now he's right here, real and solid, and even sexier than in my imagination.
“Everything’s fine,” I say, meeting his curious gaze for a second before I look away. “I didn't want to wake you.”
“You didn't.”
There’s silence between us and it feels awkward for the first time.
“Is the car running okay?” he asks.
“Sure. Just fine.” I glance up again and notice stubble on his cheek, which I've seen before but suddenly I want to touch it, to feel its roughness under my fingers. “I'd better get going.”
Another quick flicker of my eyes confirms that Mitchell is suspicious of my odd behavior, but he doesn't comment on the fact that I'm leaving over half an hour early and I'll probably be sitting in Lucky’s parking lot for that amount of time, waiting for the Marconis to arrive. It will be safer than staying here in the same house with my barely dressed, unbelievably sexy, completely off-limits stepbrother.
The next few weeks pass by quickly, the time filled with work at the café and cleaning projects around the house. The days grow longer as summer approaches, but I try to go to bed early so that I'll be able to get up for work.
The mysterious flowers on my nightstand are refreshed regularly with a variety of small, colorful blooms, but I don't have the nerve to ask Finn about it. I'm afraid of where the conversation might lead.
I don't have any more vivid dreams, but I do have conflicted thoughts, which I try my best to push down and ignore.
When I'm being honest with myself, I know the truth of that dream is that I could easily fall for any one of my three stepbrothers. They're all gorgeous men who've been nothing but wonderful to me.
But I can't let myself fall for them. Aside from the timing being terrible, with me just starting to get my act together and move into the more functional stages of grief, it's just plain wrong.
My mom wouldn't have wanted me to get involved with one of Michael’s sons. This close knit town would not be okay with it. And even if you disregard all of those reasons, how could I possibly choose one of them?
I'm still playing the “which one would I kiss” game, only now it's evolved into “don't let yourself want to kiss any of them, for god’s sake!”
Living in the same house with them, getting to know them, seeing what good men they are, has made the game really hard.
But aside even from all of that, I wouldn't want to risk a romantic relationship messing things up between any of us. Their support has meant the world to me, and I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize the “family” that we've formed.
In addition to keeping as busy as I can, I decide that dating someone casually, if the opportunity arises, would be a step in the right direction, both to help me stop thinking about the Nolan brothers, and to keep me progressing through my grief.
Ethan, at the cafe, seems like the most likely candidate. He comes in almost every day for lunch, often alone, and he never fails to flirt. He doesn't make my heart go pitter-patter, but that's not what I'm looking for right now anyway. I decide that if he asks me out, I'll say yes.
“Commencement is this Sunday. Will you be able to make it?”
Apparently I've been working too hard at avoiding conversations with the guys, because I'd completely lost track of the fact that graduation time was here.
“Oh my gosh, Finn. Yes, of course,” I gush.
“It's no big deal. I didn't want to do the ceremony but my brothers threatened me.”
“You definitely shouldn't miss it.” As soon as th
e words are out of my mouth, I remember my graduation. My mom was there, and she was so proud.
I've been putting dishes away and Finn is helping me. I stop and put my hand on his arm. “I know it won't be the same,” I say. “Your parents would have been proud. I know Mitchell and Reid are proud of you, and I am, too.”
“I know,” he says. “Thanks.”
I rub his arm, wanting to be comforting and supportive, but when Finn meets my eyes, I pull away and focus on the dishes.
I don't know which of us I'm trying to protect. I'm trying so hard not to fall for him or either of his brothers, and if he has feelings for me, I don't want to encourage them and mislead him. At the same time, I want to be a supportive stepsister. There's a fine line to walk there, and I can't quite find the right footing.
7
What Do I Have to Lose?
Saturday at the café, I'm surprised to see Ethan come in for a late breakfast. He’s usually only in on weekdays when he's working at the bank, but today he's casual in jeans and a polo shirt.
Instead of taking a table, he hovers near the door until I approach. “Morning, April. Is there a free table in your section?”
Rita and I usually split the tables between us depending on how busy things are.
“Hi, Ethan. You can sit over here.” I lead him to a table near the counter. “Coffee?”
“Thanks.” He sits and watches me as I retrieve the coffee pot and a mug. His eyes are on me the entire time I pour. “Do you need a menu?”
“That'd be great,” he says.
“What brings you in on a Saturday?” I ask when I return with the breakfast menu.
“I just wanted to see your smiling face.”
“Well it's good to see you, too,” I say, not sure how to respond.
He meets my eyes, looks away, then looks back at me. Things seem incredibly awkward all of the sudden and we both laugh a little, acknowledging it.
“Let me know when you're ready,” I say.
He nods and I head into the kitchen to collect waiting orders. After I deliver those plates I see that Ethan is watching me again, his menu closed.
“Ready?” I ask when I reach his table.
“Yeah, I'll have two eggs over easy, bacon, and toast. I guess I didn't need a menu for something as basic as that.”
I return his smile, nod, and scurry into the kitchen.
“Last call for breakfast,” Lucky informs me. He and the other cook are in the process of setting out their lunch prep.
“This should be it from me,” I say, relaying Ethan's order. I hadn't realized how close to lunchtime it was, so I go back out into the dining room to prepare its transition to midday.
I'm collecting jam and syrup containers from the empty tables when I notice Mitchell approaching the cafe. The butterfly feeling that is noticeably absent when I talk to Ethan flutters in my belly, but I ignore it.
I don't usually see Mitchell here on Saturdays either, and when he does come in, Reid's usually with him.
“Hi,” I say, meeting him at the door. “Everything okay?”
“Hi, April. Everything’s fine. Just needed a break today.”
He's in faded jeans with green grass stains on the knees, and a blue “Nolan’s Landscaping” hat on, which he removes as he enters. That familiar and appealing scent of fresh air mixed with clean male sweat emanates from him, but I do my best to ignore that, too.
“Hungry for lunch? Lucky's just switching over.” Mitchell keeps early hours like me, so I know he'll have had breakfast long ago.
“You know it.” He heads to the counter, not far from Ethan, which reminds me to go check on his breakfast order.
“Be right back,” I tell Mitchell.
When I deliver the eggs to Ethan, he pays no attention to the plate of food. Instead, his eyes are fixed on me. “What time do you get off work today, April?”
“After the lunch rush,” I say. “Usually at two.” Suddenly self-conscious, maybe because Mitchell’s within earshot, I don't pause to give Ethan a chance to continue. “How does everything look?” I ask, gesturing to his breakfast.
“Great—” he says.
“Okay,” I say, “I'll check on you in a few minutes. Enjoy!” My voice is extra cheerful to cover for my abrupt departure.
Maybe I'm not as ready to date as I thought I was.
I clear a few more breakfast items across the room and then circle back to Mitchell.
“You don't need a menu, do you? Do you know what you'd like?” I glance quickly back at Ethan. He's watching me with an expression I can't read.
“I'll have Lucky’s grilled chicken sandwich and a side salad with ranch,” Mitchell says. He catches my backward glance and looks over his shoulder to see what I'd been looking at. He lifts his chin to Ethan then turns back to me. “And an iced tea, please.”
After I put Mitchell’s order in, I return with his drink, and he eagerly takes a gulp.
“Hot out there today?” I ask. I lean against the counter — stalling, if I’m being honest — and I wonder if Ethan’s watching, but I'm afraid to look his way again.
“Yeah.” Mitchell says. “It's supposed to be even hotter tomorrow. Good thing Finn’s ceremony is early.”
“Not going to be a good day for a big, black robe, I guess?”
“Maybe he'll forgo pants underneath,” Mitchell says.
“Ha! That sounds more like something Reid would do!”
“You're right,” he says, laughing along with me.
Conscious of the fact that I'm on the job, I pull myself away. I take drink orders from a newly arrived family, while in the back of my mind I try to figure out why I'm avoiding Ethan when it seemed like he might be about to ask me out.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been out with someone new. Maybe I’m just nervous. Sure, I’ve known Ethan for a while now, seeing him most weekdays when I’m working, but our conversation has never progressed much past the menu, the café, and his job. If we go on a date, I don’t know how well we’ll actually get along. Am I ready to go out and have fun? Will I be able to tell him about my life without getting emotional?
I glance over at him and see that he’s smiling at me. He’s cute. And he seems like a sweet guy. If he asks me out, I owe it to myself to give it a try. What do I have to lose?
Beyond Ethan, there’s Mitchell’s broad back, his work shirt only emphasizing his muscular frame. I should not be admiring my stepbrother’s body; I definitely need a diversion.
“How was everything, Ethan? Want anything else?” I give him a smile that I hope makes up for avoiding him earlier.
“Well, I was wondering if I could get your phone number,” he says.
“Oh, you were?”
“I thought maybe we could go out sometime…”
Behind me, Mitchell’s stool swivels with a noisy squeak.
“We could do that…” I say.
“I’m sure you need more notice,” Ethan says, “but I’m free this weekend, if you happen to be available.”
“I might be able to—”
Mitchell clears his throat loudly and is suddenly standing next to me. “Hi Ethan,” he says. “April, sorry to interrupt, but I overheard your conversation and wanted to remind you about Finn’s graduation tomorrow.”
“Of course I wouldn’t forget that,” I say. In my head, I continue my thought with: You and I were just talking about that five minutes ago, so what’s going on, Mitchell?
“Okay, great,” Mitchell says.
“Maybe this evening?” Ethan says hopefully.
“I could probably—”
Mitchell interrupts, clearing his throat again. “I could really use your help, April, getting some things ready before the graduation. I was about to ask you.”
“Is there going to be a party for Finn?” I say.
“No. Well, maybe. I’ll talk to you about it later,” he says.
“Okay.” I look up at Mitchell, waiting for him to return to his stool, but it doesn�
�t appear that he’s in a hurry to leave us. I turn back to Ethan, who seems at a loss.
“Well, you know where to find me,” I tell him. “Will you be in for lunch on Tuesday? Maybe we can talk about it then.”
“Sure. Sounds good,” Ethan says, suddenly in a hurry. He gets out his wallet, tosses bills on the table, and leaves, with just a “See you later” thrown over his shoulder on the way out. It seems he might find Mitchell intimidating.
The door has barely closed behind Ethan when I turn on Mitchell. “What was that about? Did you really think I'd forget the graduation?”
He slips back into his seat and takes a slow drink of his tea.
“And what's going on with a party? I'm not sure Finn really wants to make a big deal out of the day.”
“There's no party,” Mitchell says.
“No party… then what was that about?” I demand.
Mitchell takes another drink and looks toward the kitchen. “Do you think my order’s ready yet?”
“Your order can wait,” I say, “until you tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t want you going out with him,” he says quietly.
“What? Why?” While I'm sputtering, possibilities are playing in my mind. The intimacy of my dream earlier in the week flashes into memory. Is it possible Mitchell is jealous and doesn't want me to date someone else? Before I can process that idea, he continues.
“He's not a good guy. I've heard things about him.”
“You've heard things? What kind of things?”
“Just— things. I've heard he has a girlfriend. And he messes around.” Mitchell keeps his voice low and looks around as he speaks, making sure no one can overhear.
“And when did you hear that?”
“I don't know. A while ago.” He looks uncomfortable, as he should.
“So you decided to butt in and make decisions for me based on old rumors? I’m sure you know how gossip flies around here.”
“I don't want you to get hurt—”
I open my mouth and then close it. I'm angry, but I don't want to go off on him. He overstepped, but according to him, he had good intentions. I look around and see tables filling up. Rita casts a glance my way.
Three Brothers: A Menage Romance Page 5