by Mia Ashlinn
“He has one,” Caedon answered for Tate who nodded. “There is no way he would have called it out like this without proof. If he knew we were sharing Ella, it wouldn’t be hard for him to get a picture of them together.” He sighed. “Even if they weren’t having sex, cheating is cheating to a lot of people. All he needed was one of the nights you guys were fooling around. Hell, even if I was here watching, he could have edited me out. I’m sure he has lots of help. People don’t get to his place without friends in high and low places.” No doubt. Then something hit her. “Wait,” she screeched as she disentangled herself from her men. “How did he get a video? We don’t exactly prance around town groping and humping on each other’s legs like dogs,” Ella said. “We’re discreet.” Not because I want us to be. Because we have to be. Damn it.
“I have a bad feeling that he’s planted a camera in here,” Micah said, stating what she was already thinking, what they were all probably thinking. “It’s the only way.”
Caedon nodded. “I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a shark. I just thought he was a good shark.”
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Unable to help herself, Ella whipped her head to the side and arched an eyebrow at Caedon. “Seriously? There are no good sharks.”
“Do you really want to get into this now?” Caedon asked, lifting his own eyebrow and staring her down.
“Couldn’t help myself,” she mumbled. Starting a search, she walked around the room for some sort of recording device. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she figured that she would know when she saw it. She hoped.
“You usually can’t help yourself,” Tate muttered as he got to his feet and joined in the video camera hunt. Being typical Tate, he immediately found the camera in one of Ella’s old lipstick containers.
“Found it!”
She’d just knocked the damn thing to the floor moments ago when she’d bumped into the dresser. Of course, since she hadn’t paid any attention to it, she hadn’t noticed the tiny, technologically advanced camera that had been stuffed inside.
“Fuck,” Micah swore. “Do we have time to get out of here before the press arrive?”
Tate shook his head sadly. “They’re already camping out,” he grumbled. “I had to sneak up the side entrance to get in here, and some psycho paparazzi chased me up the damn stairs.” An unexpected mischievous grin appeared on his face, causing him to look even younger than normal. And that was saying something considering her brother normally looked like a teenager, even though he was in his late-twenties.
Sirens sounded off in the distance, and she suddenly felt the urge to throw something. “There’s Belle. She’s going to have her hands full.”
“No, she isn’t,” Caedon announced carefully. “We’re going to fix this.”
Ella didn’t like the sound of that. She knew Caedon’s mind, and this was going to be a grand plan that probably created more havoc than helped. He was fabulous at those, but she had to give him a 228
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chance. She had to listen to him—even if it meant she would spend the next month changing his mind.
Darting her eyes to Caedon’s, Ella broke out in a sweat as she watched what was sure to be diabolical scheming play out on his face.
Her palms grew sticky, the gross feeling driving her to wipe her hands on the side of her pretty dress, and she considered hiding in the closet.
It would be much easier to live in there for a while than to face this Gabriella Embry the Slut bullshit again. She remembered what it was like. She remembered how hard it was. And she had no illusions about the fact she didn’t want to go there again—not now, not ever.
The mask of determination on her lover’s face wasn’t helping her frame of mind. He obviously had a plan, but it was probably going to backfire. Anytime he made a spur-of-the-moment decision, there was hell to pay. The whole lot of them were probably fucked in the worst way possible for high-profile people.
“Ella, I need you to do something for me,” Micah said. “Go in the other room.”
“No,” she snapped. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m a big girl, and no one can make me do shit I don’t want to do.” She should have known better than to say that with two lovers and a brother in the room with her. Predictably, her wonderful pain-in-the-ass brother was the betrayer. He clomped across the room and threw her over his shoulder. “Come on, sis, your boys have stuff to do,” he declared. “You leave them be. We need to have a chat anyway.” Uh-oh. Little brother is going into protective mode.
Without giving her a chance to stop him, Tate took off with her.
He marched down the hallway in total silence, not even saying a word when both Micah and Caedon called out their thanks. He just kept going, moving on his merry way.
Reaching the living room, Tate flipped her upright and plopped her down on the couch. “There,” he said. “Let’s talk, Ella.” Ella didn’t acknowledge her brother. She was too busy cursing the broken spring in the couch for poking her in the ass. Rocking to the Three Rings and a Rose
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left, she lifted her right ass cheek off the leather couch and rubbed the sore spot where the sharp coil had connected with her skin through the clothing barrier.
“Ella,” Tate repeated huffily.
Refusing to have the brother-sister talk she feared was coming, Ella hopped up and stalked out of the living room. She dashed into the kitchen to make something to eat for someone, somewhere—just not her. She wasn’t hungry, and she probably wouldn’t be for a long while.
Whenever anxiety consumed her, Ella loved to cook the most random things. It always made her feel better. But right now, she had no clue where to start or what to cook. So she began in the refrigerator.
Swinging open the fridge door, Ella stared into the interior of it.
She pretended not to notice her approaching brother. Even when he stepped in behind her, blocking her exit, she acted as though he wasn’t there. Hmm. What can I cook? A big jar of pickles in the back of the refrigerator called Ella’s name, and she decided that fried pickles sounded delicious.
Reaching around several items, she maneuvered her hand and the jar out of the refrigerator without breaking anything. Thankfully.
Rotating her upper body, she elbowed her brother and got him out of her way then dropped the pickle jar on the counter with a thump.
Continuing her ignorance is bliss stance, she went after the rest of the items—buttermilk, hot sauce, and Worcestershire sauce. Still, her brother stayed quiet. Ella stormed around the room, making a grand show of gathering up ingredients and spices. When she finally had everything she needed, she scrubbed her hands in the sink and started to actually cook. But as her brother had probably known, she couldn’t take the silence. She caved.
“What, Tate? What do you want to talk about?” Ella inquired.
Tate’s lips kicked up, but he didn’t say something cocky as all hell like she expected. He didn’t say anything at all. He merely propped 230
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his shoulder against the side of the fridge and waited. Again, she proved him right. She sang like a canary.
“I love them,” she declared defensively. Grabbing a giant bowl, she cracked two eggs in it then launched the shells across the room and directly into the trash can. “They love me. We can’t expect everything to be easy.”
“I didn’t say it would be,” Tate replied as he crossed his arms over his lean chest. “I have no problem with either of those men. I have no problem with you sharing. I’m just worried about what a scandal of this magnitude is going to do to you this time around. It nearly destroyed you last time. How are you going to survive intact?” Dumping all the dry ingredients into the bowl with the eggs, she whipped everything together. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”
“Yeah, stop worrying,” Micah said from the doorway. “We have this under control.”
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Chapter 24
Standing behind Micah in the tiny kitchen, Caedon silently agreed with his partner. They did have this whole situation under control.
Things would get worse for a while, but they would eventually get it worked out. Their original plan for the day would help things along.
They’d just tweaked it ever-so-slightly, and now they were all good to go.
“Come on, Ella,” Micah said. “We need to issue a statement.” When Ella did nothing, Micah stalked across the room, gathered her in his arms, and took off. He ducked out of the kitchen and headed straight for the door.
With a conspiratorial grin to Tate, Caedon followed, making sure to conceal what he had in his hand behind his back.
In Micah’s arms, Ella cursed. “Damn it, we can’t say anything.
We have to be quiet and ride this out.” Even as she spoke, she twisted, turned, and threatened. She kicked and bucked. All in all, she did everything she could. But of course, Micah ignored her. He kept right on walking without acknowledging one thing she said or did.
Caedon couldn’t hold back his smile. He knew that things were getting ready to blow sky high, but his heart still soared through the air. He was ready for what was coming. Despite everything, this was what they all needed. It was what had to be done.
With Ella still over his shoulder, Micah jogged down the stairs and then burst outside into the early morning sun. As soon as the press spotted the three of them, cameras started clicking and questions started flying. Predictably, Micah ignored them. So, Caedon did, too.
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Instead, Micah lowered a pale-faced, wide-eyed Ella to the ground. She’d obviously not been expecting them to go to the source for their statement. Bracing her by the shoulders, Micah turned her to face the crowd. If possible, her face paled further and her eyes widened more, but his partner held firm. He draped a possessive arm around her waist, letting the world know that she belonged to him—
like she belonged to Caedon.
Beaming, Caedon stepped forward. It was time to do his part of their plan. “Excuse me,” he yelled out. “We would like to make an official statement.” When a hush fell over the crowd, he continued on.
“First of all, my lovely girlfriend, Ella , who you all know as Gabriella Embry, did not and has not ever been unfaithful. She’s one of the most loyal and loving people I have ever been blessed to know.
Secondly, my best friend”—he paused to gulp, hating the fact that he couldn’t declare how he truly felt—“Micah Gunner would never, ever betray me. He is a good, strong man. It’s not in him to do something so crass.”
Pulling the unusual orange-colored rose from behind his back, Caedon offered the stem to Ella, who immediately took it without question. She openly gawked at the flower, obviously understanding what it meant. But just in case she didn’t, he planned to explain it to her and the whole fucking world.
“Now, I want to share a special secret with all of you. It’s something that you might find shocking or scandalous, but it’s the truth. I love Ella and so does Micah. She belongs to both of us.” A wave of gasps and whispers rolled over the crowd, but he didn’t care. He threw his arm up, silencing them in that simple act. “I’m not done just yet. See, here’s the thing. The three of us are like this rose.
Of course, Micah is the thorn.” He broke off deliberately for comedic relief. Luckily, he succeeded, and everyone laughed. “He’s the protector.”
Flashing the cockiest grin he could muster, Caedon continued.
“Micah claims that I’m the leaf because I feed and nurture our Three Rings and a Rose
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relationship. I supposedly keep it alive.” He shrugged and glanced at his partner in amusement. “I’m not sure I agree about that, but our
Ella is the stem. She supports us all. She holds us together. Without her, we’re nothing.”
He knew he sounded like a lovesick, besotted fool. But as long as he had his lovers, he didn’t give a fuck. Gathering his wits, he turned to a sweetly teary-eyed Ella. Tiny tears trickled down her face, but she had the most massive, most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. And for a moment, he lost his train of thought.
Ella grabbed Caedon’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly, and he remembered where he was. He recollected what he’d been saying.
“Oops,” he murmured. “She tends to make me forget everything.” Surprisingly, there were laughs and claps coming from around them. Caedon scanned the area, immediately recognizing Ella’s three crazy girlfriends, their husbands, and a whole host of others.
Everyone from the sheriff, Belle, and her deputies, Ash and Kegan, to the three firemen to the various store owners and restaurateurs were gathering in the street.
Feeling the love and support of the other people in Serenity, Caedon had a sense of belonging and comfort cocooning him. He knew without a doubt that he could do anything with these people, and they would still stand behind him. It was a beautiful thing.
Cupping her chin, Caedon lifted her lips to his and kissed her thoroughly. Then he guided her pretty face toward an awaiting Micah, who kissed her, too. Only his mouth moved with a dominance, an ownership, that Caedon hadn’t dared to display so publicly. He probably would have fucked her in front of the world if he had. Then they really would have known about possession.
As soon as Micah released Ella’s lips, Caedon grinned. “See, I’m fine. No cheating. No lies. We’re all in a loving, committed relationship. I love to see Micah with our woman.” The press went wild, bombarding them with questions. They yelled, one on top of the other, until he couldn’t tell what any of them 234
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said. Not that it mattered. They didn’t plan to share any more details.
He and Micah thought it would be best to hold off on sharing the news of their intimate relationship—at least until after this scandal died down.
Out of the corner of his eye, Caedon saw unexpected movement.
He rotated his head to the side, and found the last person on God’s green Earth he wanted to see—Ted—standing next to Leila Schilling.
Storming to the stoop where he stood with his partners, Ted gripped Caedon’s arm and coldly censured him in front of everyone.
“This is not your job. It’s mine. Get your ass back up the fucking stairs so I can fix this before you destroy everything.”
“Like you did a few years ago?” Caedon asked with a calmness he didn’t feel. “Why don’t you tell everyone about the things you have done to help me?” He air-quoted with a glower to the man he’d called a friend up until recently, a man he’d thought he owed for his help.
Boy, was I wrong. “I’m sure they’re all ears.” Ted frowned, a psychotic light flaring in his eyes. This man was certifiable. How he hadn’t noticed before now, he would never know.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? ” Micah inquired, apparently helping Caedon tag-team Ted. “I overheard you telling our girlfriend that you had broken her and Caedon up. How did you do that?” A hum of gossiping voices spread over the area around them, but Micah didn’t appear to notice.
He was too busy putting the screws to Ted. “Did you lie about her?
Did you sabotage her? What exactly did you do?” Ted’s face colored, making the sleazebag’s normally impeccable appearance falter and fail. His companion—and coconspirator—Leila stepped back. With a glare to Ella, she mouthed what appeared to be,
“I’ll get you for this.” Then obviously recognizing that it was time to tuck tail and run, she did just that. She slowly and quietly eased away from the growing crowd.
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Caedon considered outing her, but he decided it wasn’t worth it.
He’d much prefer seeing Ted suffer to some conceited gopher he’d probably paid off.
“I did nothing,” Ted refuted again. “The fat slut did it all to herself. She went to the damn party.
All I had to do was give the tape to the fucking press.” He pointed a stabbing finger at Ella. His pinched expression concerned Caedon, and he took a few steps closer to Ella, standing over her protectively. And Micah did the same, keeping her tucked into his side. “She’s the one who pitted two friends against each other until they had to decide to share her or kill each other. She’s the person responsible for herself. Don’t lay this bullshit at my feet.”
Caedon found it rather amusing that his former manager seemed to have forgotten their venue and their audience. If he didn’t feel compelled to skin the man alive, he probably would be laughing his ass off at Ted’s idiocy. The high-profile manager’s self-destructive actions were being aired out publicly. When he was done chomping on his small feet, Ted would have nothing left. No celebrity in their right mind would stay aboard a sinking ship, and that was exactly what he was.
A petty, evil thrill of glee ran all through Caedon. After the shenanigans Ted had apparently been pulling, Caedon didn’t feel badly for despising the bastard, and he didn’t feel wrong for his next action.
Hauling his arm back, Caedon threw a punch. He decked the douche in the face, messing up Mr. Perfect’s complexion. That was all he did. He didn’t hit him again, even though he wanted to. Kicking his ass publicly was out of line. One punch was justifiable.
“Get the fuck out of town,” Caedon ordered Ted. The snarl in his tone was music to his ears. The nutty bully needed to know that there would be no going back, no repeats of his scheming. This was over.
Once he walked out of Serenity, he was gone. “You’re fired. Now go.
We don’t want you here.”
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Ted opened his mouth to say something then thought better of it.