Love Under Two Responders [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  “No. I’m working.”

  Ed nodded. “Of course. You can open it when you get home tonight, after work.” He deftly took the envelope back, and returned it to his pocket.

  “And by home, of course, he means our place,” Warren said.

  Carol tilted her head to one side. “We have been spending a lot of time at your place, and not much at mine.”

  “Did you want to take turns? Because we could do that even though we’d be a tight fit in your teeny tiny little bed.”

  Carol looked down for a moment as she filed Warren’s nails. When she met his gaze again, her cheeks had the faintest pink color to them and her eyes were laughing. “I could sleep on top of one of you. That would make it seem roomier for you.”

  Ed grinned. “It would, but I have a feeling there wouldn’t be much sleep happening.” He flicked his gaze over to his brother and nearly blinked. Warren had gone from wearing his teasing face, to a very serious expression.

  His brother’s voice was quiet when he asked, “Do you need some time alone, sweetheart? Are we crowding you?”

  The look on Carol’s face—pure shock—likely reassured Warren more than any words could.

  “No! No, I don’t need time alone. But I would like to spend some time at my house taking care of my gardens. Maybe…maybe we could do that on the weekend? I planted all those plants and I feel responsible for them. I want to make certain they don’t feel neglected.”

  “We can do that,” Ed said. He watched the way she was so careful, so meticulous, in trimming Warren’s cuticles. She did the same with him, had done from that very first time. Her attention to detail astounded him then, and it still had him in awe. He would look down at his hands before she worked on them. They always looked good to him before their appointment with her. But after, the difference felt enormous. Warren had spoken for both of them when he’d told her they liked the way their hands felt since they’d been getting manicures. And it was all due to her care, the way she focused on what she was doing.

  He’d bet she was the same way with her gardens. She’d pluck the weeds, cultivate the soil, clip a browned leaf here and a spent bud there—all tiny, miniscule little tasks that some people wouldn’t even know to do in the first place. Yet the difference, before and after, would be profound.

  Carol was a woman who saw what needed attention, and she didn’t mind the intricate work to make it so. In point of fact, she was a woman who saw everything.

  It was no wonder, then, that her mother’s failure to see past her own fear and guilt upset her.

  People could annoy the hell out of each other in so many ways. But when the source of the annoyance was something that one person held as important or even vital that the other didn’t even notice…well, Ed guessed that in such a case, “annoyed” really was a weak word. Carol was a woman who saw every little detail, and her mother hadn’t seen her at all.

  I don’t think I understood the depth of the hurt Carol felt until just now.

  “When was the last time you spoke to your parents, Carol?” Warren asked her.

  She shrugged and kept her gaze on Warren’s hands. “I don’t know, really. I haven’t been keeping track.”

  “Carol.”

  She looked up and met Ed’s gaze. She looked at Warren, too. Ed didn’t need to see his brother’s face to know he felt the same way as he did on the subject.

  “I know.” She exhaled. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it, and them.”

  “Hey, sweetheart?” When she met his gaze he offered her as tender a smile as he could muster. “We’ll never, ever tell you what to do. And we for sure would never tell you how to handle a situation with your family.”

  “You have the right to your feelings, love,” Warren said. “And you have the right to be hurt and angry.”

  “But if your mother is reaching out to you, you should consider listening to what she has to say. Not just for her—but for yourself, too.” Ed caressed her chin with his finger, and when she let him, he turned her face so that she could see his eyes. “Your parents are both getting older, Carol. You don’t want to set yourself up for a situation that would leave you with regrets—regrets you would never be able to fix.”

  “I know you’re right. It’s just…I don’t know if I can, yet.” She sighed and looked away for a moment. “I just don’t know if I can.”

  “I understand,” Ed said. “We both do. We’re not judging you, Carol. We could never do that.”

  “We’ve been lucky, all our lives, to live here, in Lusty,” Warren said. “Family is every-damn-where, and there’s precious little privacy to be had in this town. But we’ve never been in the kind of situation you found yourself in, either.”

  “The relationship between a mother and her children is special. Maybe because she carries that child inside her body, under her heart for nearly a year. A woman is never so vulnerable in life as during those moments when she’s giving birth.” Ed had been fortunate enough to be called in to assist one time when a woman didn’t make it to the hospital, and wound up having her baby in the backseat of her car. It had been the most spiritual moment he’d ever known.

  “We have different families here in Lusty. Many of us have more than one father.” Ed stilled Carol’s hand. When a tear fell, he caught it on his finger. “We have more than one father, but we all only ever have one mother. For your own peace of mind—and to heal your heart—please consider forgiving her.”

  He leaned across the small table and kissed her. He knew that Warren felt as he did. They would support her in whatever action, if any, she decided to take. They would love her and support her, no matter what.

  But they would hate for her to miss the chance to mend her broken relationship with her mother.

  Chapter 15

  Carol didn’t know what she expected when she pulled her car into the driveway. When they’d left her at the spa after their manicures, Warren and Ed had each kissed her very sweetly and then asked her if she would come to their house right after work, for dinner, and “other things.”

  She was pretty sure she knew what the “other things” were. In the last couple of weeks she’d been inundated with sensual discoveries and earthy delights. She’d also spent a lot of time with them at their house, and most nights there, too.

  For having lived such a sheltered and quiet life before moving to Lusty, Carol was discovering something rather remarkable about herself.

  She loved sex.

  Carol grinned. She should probably more correctly characterize it as sex with Warren and Edward.

  I’m certainly making up for lost time.

  She got out of the car and let her gaze wander to the front of the house. Warren’s truck was in the driveway. Edward’s vehicle—a 2013 Buick Enclave—spent most of its time parked in the garage. Mostly the men went places together, so they took Warren’s crew-cab pickup.

  There’d been talk about a drive to San Antonio or Houston for a weekend, and for that, they’d promised, they would use the Enclave.

  Carol wasn’t one to care about things like that. She knew the men didn’t either, for all of the money they had at their fingertips.

  She’d been out in the world enough to know that some people liked to surround themselves with the newest and the best but she’d never been that way. Her own sister, Jane, was materialistic, but not in a mean or bragging kind of way.

  It pleased her to know that the men she’d fallen in love with didn’t count material gain as a high priority in their lives.

  For her part, Carol had never cared if the clothing she wore was the newest fashion. She only cared that she liked it and was comfortable in it. She didn’t care much for jewelry, though she did like to have a lot of earrings. She liked studs, but not the dangling ones unless they were delicate. She didn’t care particularly for necklaces or bracelets or rings.

  The last two she didn’t indulge in because she worked with her hands, and weari
ng rings or bracelets could become a comfort issue for her clients.

  And what was all that fuss about shoes? At the last place she worked, she’d met a couple of women, regular clients, who were quite into shoes. They’d each had dozens of pairs. Dozens! She liked her Nikes, and a couple of pairs of sandals for dress-up, and of course, her cowgirl boots.

  Carol shook her head. Here she was doing all kinds of mental gymnastics out in the driveway because she was nervous to enter the house.

  It’s because that letter from my mother is in there, and I don’t want to deal with it just yet.

  Edward had snatched it back, likely because he knew she just might put it somewhere and simply forget about it.

  She guessed she would have to open it at some point. Maybe she’d open it after whatever it was the two of them had planned for her tonight.

  Facing something unpleasant would be a lot more palatable if she was exhausted and completely sated with pleasure while she did it.

  Carol let her gaze wander to their front flower beds. Someone had planted simple red Salvia coccinea—commonly known as Texas sage—along the front of the house. Because it seeded itself, the plant needed very little tending to grow lush and full.

  The sensation of being watched drew her attention up. Warren stood in the open doorway, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the door frame, an inscrutable look on his face.

  “Are you afraid to come inside, sweetheart?”

  Carol met his gaze. It really never occurred to her to lie to him, or be evasive. “Maybe ‘afraid’ is too strong a word.”

  “All right. We’ll use worried, then. Is there someplace else you’d rather be?”

  “Not that I can think of.” She leaned her butt against the front hood of her aging Chevy. With her purse strap over her shoulder, her hands were free to do what she wanted—which was to mimic Warren’s pose, and tuck them in under her arms.

  “That’s good to know. Do you want to talk about what has you worried?”

  The letter wasn’t it, not really. The letter was a symbol of the fear that had been hovering at the edge of her consciousness since their first date. The letter might in fact bring that fear to fruition.

  Carol was almost relieved to understand that was what had been bothering her. She said, “That you’re going to change your minds—you and Edward. I know I should read that letter. I understand it’s the adult thing to do. But right now, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I can reach out to my parents. I don’t know if I can forgive them. And I don’t know if I can forgive myself for being so malleable in the first place. And I’m worried that if I can’t, then you and Edward will think less of me and decide I’m just not worth your time and trouble.” A single tear tracked down her face. “So, okay, yeah maybe afraid wasn’t too strong a word, after all.”

  “I’m sorry you’re afraid—and actually the thing you’re afraid of is the thing that has both of us scared stupid, too. We’re afraid you’ll come to your senses and realize you can do so much better than us.”

  She blinked and noticed for the first time that Edward hung by the door, too. Warren moved, just slightly, so his brother had room to step out of the opening and stand against the opposing door frame on the porch.

  “We’re scared you’re going to decide that we aren’t worth the time and the trouble, too,” Edward confirmed.

  “I know how to get us all over this fear,” Warren said. “And it’s something we should have said to each other before now.” He stepped away from the door, unfolded his arms and came down the steps. He stopped when only a few inches separated them. Edward came down the steps, too, and somehow just having them there within arm’s reach, just being able to inhale deeply and draw their scents into her lungs, helped.

  They made her head swim so that she had trouble concentrating on the conversation. Needing to be in the moment with them, she focused. “What should we have said before now?”

  “I love you, Carol Ashwood.” Warren picked up her right hand and brought it to his lips.

  She gasped, and felt everything inside her melt.

  “It kind of runs in the family,” Warren said, “that Jessops and Kendalls and Benedicts fall in love very quickly. Our mom used to worry about us being single forever, but we knew that we just hadn’t met you yet. And then we did. February eleven. That was the day Chloe had her open house and we went, because it’s what we do here in Lusty—we support family. And then we saw you, and we knew you were the one for us.”

  “Couldn’t sleep that night afterward,” Edward said. “I love you, Carol.” He picked up her left hand and kissed it. “It took us a long time to ratchet up the nerve to ask you out.”

  Carol laughed, her heart so full of joy she wondered why it didn’t burst. “You never asked me out,” she said to Edward. She nodded to Warren. “He told me we were going out, and that it was just the two of you for me, period.”

  “Yeah, well, it worked.” Edward grinned.

  “I love you. I love you both, so much.” More tears fell, but they were happy ones. “I figured I was going to be alone for all of my life—really alone, once I discovered what my parents had planned for me, and I left home. And it was the same for me. I looked up and there you were, and a voice inside of me said, those two are yours.”

  “There, now, see? Now none of us needs to worry—or be afraid. Because love, Lusty style, is absolute, without reservation, and it’s forever. Sweetheart, you couldn’t do anything to make us change our minds about you, not anything. Even if you stopped loving us and moved away—we would still be yours, forever.”

  “That’s the truth,” Edward said. “So no more worrying, not about that.”

  “Okay.” Their smiles lit up their faces, a light that came from within and Carol knew she’d never be alone, or lonely again. “But I can tell you right now, I will never stop loving you, or move away.” Those words echoed inside her but she let that echo be, for now.

  “Now,” Warren said, “you might experience a little trepidation about this evening’s activities, but only because that letter you don’t want to look at right now isn’t the only thing we got at the post office today.”

  “Oh.” She laughed, because the one thing she’d learned early about these men—her men—was that they really did like to tease. “That’s right, you said you had to pick up a package. I guess I just assumed it was something to do with your…with your calling.”

  You’d think I just gave them a big gift, the way they’re smiling because I said that.

  “No, love,” Warren said. “It was a very personal purchase that arrived in a brown wrapper.”

  Edward nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been shopping. Online. For you.”

  “Well, for us, too, in a way,” Warren said. And then he raised both eyebrows in rapid succession, treating her to a mock leer.

  Carol laughed. “Okay, maybe I am still just a little bit worried, then.”

  * * * *

  “When we were trying to figure out what gift to bring you on our first date, we found a website that had very sexy garments and costumes,” Warren said.

  “I took one look at this one, and I could so totally see you in it.” Edward reached out a finger and traced it over her shoulder. He looked awed, as if he was afraid to touch more than just her shoulder.

  Carol looked in the mirror. The chemise was made of a simple white cotton, adorned with lace, and harkened to an earlier era of modest mores and secret sins.

  It hung to just below her crotch and, as per their request, she was wearing nothing beneath it.

  Warren came up behind her and reached around, opening the first two buttons, letting the right side hang down, slightly. Then he grinned at her in the mirror, stepped back and ran his hands through her hair, giving her a slightly disheveled, yet surprisingly sexy look.

  “Perfect. Now you’re ready to play our game.”

  “What are we going to play?”

  “We’re calling it Stranded Maiden.”
Edward moved in closer beside her so that looking in the mirror, she could see them, all three of them, standing together. The men were bare-chested, with just their jeans on. Behind and around them, candles lit the bedroom, and the bed had been turned down.

  “You, Lady Caroline, were on your way to visit your friend in the country, about a day’s ride outside of London Town,” Edward said. “Your father, the Earl of Richmond, hired us to see you safely to your destination, as there had been threats made against him and he is an overprotective man where you are concerned, anyway. Unfortunately, while we were yet many miles from our destination there was an unexpected storm. The torrential downpour washed out the roads and then, a flash of lightning spooked the horses.”

  “We were able to bring the vehicle under control, just as one of the axels snapped.” Warren took over the telling of the tale. “We’re all lucky to be alive! It was still storming, and dark, and cold…but after walking for a time, we were able to find shelter.” He held his hands out. “This isolated and deserted cabin in the middle of the forest isn’t much, but you’re safe here—at least from the elements.” He lowered his voice. “They say this cabin is haunted, but we are men of our times and do not believe in such things.”

  “Haunted, is it? I wonder why they say that? There must be a reason for the superstition.” Carol couldn’t hold back her grin. Both men were consumed by the tale they wove.

  “There might very well be,” Edward said. “Of course, traipsing from the road, in the pouring rain, we became muddy and soaked through and had to remove all but the barest minimum covering us, to keep propriety satisfied.”

  “It wouldn’t do to stay in our wet clothing. We might come down with the ague,” Warren said.

  “I see. I should likely demand a blanket to cover me and preserve my modesty but…ah, I see we have only a barren mattress upon which to rest our weary heads, and not a blanket in sight.”