by Unknown
"Yeah, but she basically threatened to haunt us for the next hundred years if we hurt Emma. She's probably put a spell or something on us already."
"Call her. I think she'll listen," Brandon said. He lifted a beer bottle to his lips.
"You didn't even meet her, Brandon. How would you know?"
"Just a gut feeling."
"Fine," Beau growled, dialing information again. Thank goodness Emma had mentioned her grandmother's real name after their conversation at the restaurant. His gut felt like a rock as he punched in the phone number.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Oliver?" he asked, hope filling his heart.
"Yes? Who is this?"
"It's Beau Tucker. I met you at the restaurant in Watertown, the night Emma and I went to dinner. Do you remember me?"
"I'd say so son. I hope you aren't back in Red Rock. I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a bounty on your head for leavin' the way you did. Want to explain it to me before I come after you with my shotgun?"
His heart started to hammer for the first time since they'd left Red Rock. "Yes ma'am, I do. You see, I had called Brandon's management company and cancelled the shows he had coming up for a few weeks in order to have time with Emma and give the garage time to fix his bus. His management company took matters into their own hands and sent someone out to Red Rock to fetch us home like a couple of wayward children. We didn't have much choice but to leave, or they could have cancelled Brandon's recording contract."
"You know you hurt her, right?"
"Yes ma'am, and we aim to make it right."
"Oh? How do you plan to do that?"
Beau's heart sank. Her gram was their only hope, and she didn't sound too forgiving either. "We aren't sure, really. She won't take our calls, Becky hung up on us, her dad and Cade won't talk to us…"
"Do you blame them?" the woman asked. "She's been a mess since you two skipped town."
"No, I sure don't, but we can't explain if no one will talk to us."
"I'm listening, son, so spill it. I ain't got all day." Silence enveloped the phone line as he tried to think of what else to say. "Do you love her?"
"Yes ma'am, and so does my brother." Hope raced through him. At least her gram had given him a chance to explain. "He's standing here next to me, nodding like a crazy fool."
A bubbly chuckle met his ear, and he smiled for the first time since Emma had run out the door, taking his heart with her.
"Did you tell her?"
"No ma'am, but we want to rectify the situation."
"Then I suggest you high-tail your asses back out here and tell her."
"It's not quite so simple. Brandon has another month of touring to do before he can take any time off and—"
"I'll ask this again, son. Do you love her?"
Beau sat in silence for several moments until the light bulb went on in his head. "We'll be there tomorrow mornin' ma'am."
"That's what I wanted to hear, son." Mrs. Oliver rattled off her address and said, "Come by here when you get off the plane. I'll get her over here where you can talk to her privately, without her family and friends hovering. She hasn't spent much time alone the last couple of months, I'll warn you of that now. She's even been datin', although no one I want her tied to. You boys are special, and even though I never got a chance to meet your twin, if he's like you, you'll both make a damned nice addition to the family."
"Thank you, Mrs. Oliver. You're a doll!"
"No thankin' me until you get things situated with Emma. I'm not guaranteein' she'll listen when she does see you both, but I know she's been miserable since you left. Now I'll let you go, since you've got plans to make, and I'll see you tomorrow."
The phone clicked in his ear, and he turned to Brandon with a smile he knew about split his face.
"So, what did she say?"
"We're goin' to Red Rock tomorrow."
"What the fuck?" Brandon's eyes were wide and disbelieving as he turned back toward Beau from his pacing of the living room. "We can't get there from here in one day, Beau. Are you nuts?"
"No. We're using some of your hard-earned money, Brandon. We're flying there, and I don't care if we have to rent a private plane—we are going to Red Rock to see Emma."
* * * *
Emma drove down the snow-covered streets of Red Rock toward Gram Oliver's house. Christmas was fast approaching, and Gram had asked for help with the baking and decorating she did for the local hospital every year. Today they planned to bake cookies and make candy.
Her radio blared country music, and she tapped her fingers to the beat of a new song. She hadn't heard it before, but she knew the voice—she listened to it every night on her cell phone before she went to bed. She still had every message they'd ever left her on her voicemail. No, she couldn't talk to them, but she could listen to their words and pretend they loved her like she loved them. It helped—God knew why, but it did. She knew they'd had to go, and she really couldn't blame them for how everything went down during the last day she'd seen them this summer.
Her friends and family, however, blamed them for everything, and she hoped they'd never set foot in Red Rock again—they might not leave here alive. Kale and Laurel had threatened to lock them up and throw away the key. Cade and Natalie wanted them dead. Becky and Seth wanted to castrate them both. And her dad? Oh, Lord. If he ever got hold of them, not only would they not leave here alive, he'd bury them somewhere in the middle of his pasture, and no one would ever find the bodies.
But Gram, God bless her soul, understood. She never said a word about Beau and Brandon the day Emma came over and cried until her heart felt lighter and she could actually say their names without breaking down. Gram understood she loved the two stubborn men, but she also knew Emma couldn't leave Red Rock.
Or so she'd thought. Since Beau and Brandon left, she'd done some thinkin'. Being with them meant everything to her. They were her other two-thirds. The two of them together completed her, and she'd made plans to fly out to Nashville next week and get the whole thing out in the open. She had to. She couldn't continue this way. Her plan had holes, yes, but she didn't know what else to do except talk to them and find out their true feelings. Did they love her like she loved them? Did they want her to be a permanent part of their lives? Those questions needed answers, and the only way she knew how to get them was to be in their faces.
Gram's house came into view, and Emma smiled. Grandmother Oliver always went all-out when it came to Christmas, and this year was no exception. She had various inflatable ornaments scattered across her lawn. Twinkling lights surrounded every window and the eaves of the house, and Emma wondered who'd put them up there. "Probably Cade." A huge Christmas tree filled the whole front window of the house with its colored lights and accoutrement of ornaments from sixty-eight years of marriage to Doctor Oliver.
Emma pulled into the driveway and shut the engine on her truck off as she stared at the brightly lit house. Someday she wanted her own house, with a loving husband and a passel of kids. Unfortunately, at the moment, there were only two men she could imagine her life with, and she still needed to work things out with them. "Soon. Next week I'll get this all straightened out one way or another. Either they'll declare their love for me, or I'll never see them again." Her heart cracked at the thought. It had only been four months, and she could barely function from day to day. The emptiness and loneliness wouldn't go away.
She grabbed her groceries and struggled out of the truck, slamming the door shut with her leg and almost losing her footing on the slippery driveway. "Cade needs to get over here and shovel this driveway before Gram breaks a hip or somethin'."
Emma looked up to find Gram standing on the covered porch, her shawl around her frail shoulders, calling out, "Emma, quit talking to yourself, child, and get in here where it's warm. Damn, I'd swear it's fifty below out there."
After she stepped up onto the porch, Gram ushered her through the front door and quickly closed it behind them.
"Not quit
e, Gram, but close." Emma set the bags on the dining room table and leaned down slightly to kiss Gram's cheeks. "At least it's warm in the house."
"Did you bring everything I asked you to bring?"
"Yes'm, but I'm a bit confused why you wanted the duct tape?"
"Oh, somethin' I think might require it. Nothing huge, but I wanted to make sure I had some in case."
Emma shrugged and started unloading the bags of groceries. "We're having dinner here, right Gram? I thought since we'd be baking all day, we could order some pizza for dinner."
"Fine by me, honey, but make sure you order, like, four larges."
"You and I can't eat that much pizza." Emma looked at Gram and wondered what was going on. Has Gram lost her mind? Maybe a little dementia going on here?
"Uh…well, I want some for leftovers. You know I love cold pizza. And Cade will be bringing Alan over tomorrow afternoon so he and Natalie can go Christmas shopping for him." Gram pulled out her recipe cards and spread them out on the countertop. "Why don't you do the fudge and divinity, and I'll work on the cookie dough."
Emma chuckled and grabbed the two cards she needed. The ingredients were simple enough, but she wasn't much of a baker. "You just want to eat the dough."
The two of them worked side by side for two hours, but Emma noticed how Gram kept watching the clock, sometimes walking to the front of the house to peer outside. "Are you expecting someone, Gram? You seem awful nervous."
"Nope. Not me. I wasn't sure whether Cade and Natalie might come over. I invited Natalie to help us bake this afternoon, but she wasn’t sure if she'd have time. She had a fundraiser to go to this afternoon."
The sun began to set behind the mountains as evening approached. It always got dark so early during the winter, it got depressing sometimes. Christmas music played softly in the background while they baked and chatted.
"Have you ever had a chance to talk to those two men you were seeing this summer?"
"Beau and Brandon Tucker?"
"Yes."
Emma bit her lip and sighed. "No, Gram, I haven't. In fact, I've been avoiding their calls since they left."
"Why, Emma? I thought you had feelin's for them?"
"I do, but I know they did what they had to do this past summer, and I wasn't sure if they cared about me enough to want me in their lives. Neither of them ever said they loved me," she said, stirring the batter for brownies.
"Do you love either of them?"
Emma set the bowl down and stretched her back. "Yes, Gram. In fact, I'm in love with both of them. Don't tell Dad or Cade, but I'm going to fly out to Nashville next week so I can talk to them. We need to clear the air, and the only way I can do that is to see them."
A quirky little smile lifted the corners of Gram's mouth, and her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I think you're doing the right thing, honey."
"Thanks." She hugged Gram and then went back to stirring the batter.
The doorbell rang, and Gram said she'd get it, while Emma spread the chocolate batter into the baking dish. Low voices reached her ear as whoever was at the door walked closer to the kitchen with her grandmother.
"Emma, honey. Can you come into the living room, please?"
She shrugged and said, "Be right there, Gram. I'm putting the brownies in."
Once the oven was set and the timer on, she washed her sticky hands and dried them on the spare dish towel sitting on the counter. The black apron she'd put on over her clothes had flour and batter all over it, so she slipped it off and laid it on the table.
The murmur of voices got louder, and she slowed her steps when she heard her name. Could it be Cade and Natalie? Gram had said they might be coming by. When she cleared the corner and saw who sat on the couch with Gram, her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes tightly and reopened them. Nope, nothing changed.
Beau and Brandon flanked Gram, who sat between them wearing a shit-eating grin. No, no, no! I'm not ready for this.
She spun on her heels and raced for the back door, stepping out onto Gram's patio. Snow swirled and blew across her face. Shivers rolled over her arms, but she wasn't sure if they were from the cold or Beau and Brandon's appearance.
The door slid open behind her, and she tried to decide what to do, her gaze darting back and forth.
"Emma? Come inside, darlin'. It's too fuckin' cold out there, and you don't even have a coat on," Beau said, taking a couple of steps toward her.
"I…" She shook her head and took two more steps into the blowing snow, but he was right there with her.
"Come inside," he whispered, taking her hand and drawing her toward the door.
Taking a fortifying breath, she allowed Beau to lead her into the house and toward the living room. Gram had disappeared, and Brandon stood near the fireplace, which crackled and popped with a cheery fire.
Beau pulled her down on the couch next to him, and Brandon took the other side. Each held one of her hands and stroked her knuckles.
"What are you doin' here?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know. What if they don't love me like I love them?
Beau said, "We needed to talk to you, darlin', and we both felt the best thing would be to come here and see you."
"Why didn't you answer our calls, Emma?" Brandon asked, pain clearly etched on his face. "We tried several times."
"I know. I have all the voicemails."
"You know? Why didn't you call back or answer?"
Faced with her avoidance over the last several months, uncertainty bloomed in her mind. She didn't know what she'd do if they only wanted her for a few nights of wild sex again. "I…uh…I needed some time to sort everythin' out."
"Is it sorted now?" Beau asked.
"To some degree, yes, I think so—but how did you get time to come here? You had a month left on this tour."
"I still do," Brandon replied, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing her fingers. "But this is more important. You're more important."
Her stomach rolled over, and her heart skipped a beat. "More important than your career?"
"Yes."
Emma sat back against the floral sofa and looked at Brandon and then Beau. "I don't understand."
"We're here because we love you, Emma. You mean everythin' to us, and we don't want to live without you anymore," Beau stated, his eyes serious and pleading.
"You, too?" she said, looking at Brandon.
"Yeah. I love you too, and I want you with me and Beau."
"But your career. What about that?"
"We've got it all worked out, Emma. You'll marry Brandon, and then we'll have a separate ceremony for all three of us. That way all of his assets and money will belong to you should anything ever happen to him."
She looked from one brother to the other twice and then got to her feet. She needed to maintain some distance so she could absorb what was going on here. "Did you just propose to me for Brandon?" she asked Beau.
His warm chuckle sent shivers down her back. God, she'd missed them—everything about them. The easy smiles, the twinkling eyes, the wicked lips. The torturous hands, and especially the daring way they made love to her. "I proposed to you from both of us...but wait, we need to do this right."
Both men got to their feet and walked over to her. Beau went down on his left knee and Brandon went down on his right. Each man pulled a diamond ring from his pocket and held it up in front of her.
"I love you more than life itself, Emma, and I'm askin' you to do me the honor of becomin' my wife." Beau took her left hand. "Please?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Never in a million years would she have imagined these two gorgeous men fallin' in love with her, much less askin' her to marry him. "How is it gonna work? We're going to live in a ménage relationship?"
"No one needs to know except our families, Em. It's our business and no one else's," Brandon replied. "No more excuses. Will you marry me?"
"And me?" Beau added.
"Yes, I'll marry you. Both of you," she replied, dro
pping to her knees in front of them.
Beau slipped his ring on her left ring finger, and then Brandon slipped his onto her right hand. "It'll stay there until we get the wedding ring on. Then we'll move mine to your left hand, too."
"So is there gonna be a weddin' or not?" Gram asked from the doorway to the kitchen. "Or do I need to get the duct tape?"
All three of them laughed, getting to their feet and wrapping Gram in their arms.
"Yes, Gram, there's gonna be a weddin'. Not sure when yet, but there will be," Emma said, kissing her grandmother's cheek and whispering, 'Thank you,' in her ear.
Epilogue
Flashbulbs blinked like streaks of lightning during a summer storm when they stepped from the limousine and out onto the red carpet stretched in front of them. Brandon held her hand and Beau placed his palm on her lower back. Whispers of gossip had surrounded them ever since they brought Emma back to Nashville after the wedding a little over a year ago, and they were rarely seen apart. No one knew for sure they'd made themselves a triad, but the rumor mill always speculated. Tonight, she didn't care what anyone said. She had her men at her sides, and the evening belonged to Brandon. He'd worked his ass off touring, promoting, and changing his image from the happy-go-lucky, partying, spoiled country star to a hard-working family man. The last two singles off his new CD had hit number one, and tonight he was up for several Country Music Association awards, including Entertainer of the Year.
"Brandon!"
Several people yelled, and girls screamed his name over and over. He flashed his million dollar smile and tucked Emma against his side.
A reporter from Entertainment Tonight stopped them. "Brandon, can we talk to you for a moment, please?" she asked.
"Sure."
"You've done so well this year. Two number ones already, and this album hasn't even been out six months. It debuted at number two on Billboard's top 200. You've got a beautiful wife and you seem to be riding the golden rainbow. How does it feel?"
"I've been blessed."