Love Under Two Prospectors [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “You, and me, and our baby.” Her tears slid down her face. Ricoh felt an answering wetness on his own cheek.

  The hardest thing he’d ever done was to let go of his hatred for his angel’s father. Not long after he’d been banished, Angela had become ill. She’d lost consciousness and awakened days later to be told it hadn’t been the flu, as she’d thought. She’d been pregnant and had lost the baby—and that she could never have another. It was in the fog of her recovery that her father drugged her and married her off to a man of his own age and his own twisted misogyny. It wasn’t until much, much later that she’d discovered correspondence between her father and that man’s doctor. Angela hadn’t had a miscarriage. Her father had ordered her to have an abortion and to have her rendered sterile.

  Ricoh pulled himself back to the moment, this moment, which was all that mattered anymore. “Sí. We will never forget. I will never forget.” It was a fine line to acknowledge what could have been, without allowing the bitterness in. And it was a line they both walked. “There is a wedding ring, as well, in the same style.”

  “I love this. You’re right, it’s ours.” Then she met his gaze. “I love you. Please, will you put your ring on my finger?”

  Ricoh carefully lifted the ring from the box and, as he’d been dreaming of doing for a very long time, slowly slid it into place, where it belonged. He brought her hand up and kissed the ring and her finger. Sealing the promise between them.

  “There’s no problem, mi Ángel, my living at your house full time. It’s only a few miles away. If I’m needed, I can be here in minutes.”

  “I don’t care where we bed down at night, Ricoh. I figured out a few months ago that, while I might own that Roadhouse and that little cabin I had Jordan Kendall build for me beside it, my real home is with you.”

  “Now there’s a coincidence.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I feel the same way.”

  Angela wound her arms around Ricoh’s neck and drew him down until he was nearly lying across her. “Do you have to go on your day-off rounds right away?”

  “Not if I get a better offer. Do you have one for me, chica?”

  His Angel gave him a smile that promised a slice of heaven at the end of a naughty interlude. “Why, señor, I do believe I do.”

  He couldn’t contain his smile. He never imagined he could love as much as he loved Angela. Having her in his arms, in his bed, with his ring on her finger?

  Ricoh Stone realized his own personal happy-ever-after was well on its way to becoming reality.

  * * * *

  Brittany eased out of the SUV, her gaze taking in the pretty neighborhood as much as the newer looking ranch-style house that stood before them. Situated at the end of a cul-de-sac, with what appeared to be a stretch of wooded land beyond, this lot might possibly be the largest one on the street.

  Its next-door neighbors were Victorian-style houses, and every yard she could see was very well kept. Brittany wondered if they’d picked this house because it was a single level or if that fact was simply a coincidence.

  “We chose this house with you in mind,” Sean said. “I know you can navigate stairs and likely will be able to do so expertly before long.” He shrugged as he came around from the driver’s side and hugged her. “We just wanted to give you a break where we could.”

  “I appreciate the consideration. You’re right, on both counts. But I’m not as good yet when I’m tired. It’s going to take time to get used to the ‘feel’ of my prosthetic limb—time for it to feel normal.”

  Noah grabbed her suitcases and travel bag, and they led her toward the front door. “I thought we’d sit and have some coffee first,” Sean said.

  “We have a few things we need to discuss with you.” Noah’s gentle smile set her at ease. So far, everything had been easier than she’d expected it to be—certainly easier between them than she’d had any right to expect them to be.

  “Coffee sounds good. And so does conversation.” They did have a lot to discuss, about their relationship. She also needed to let them know that she would need to find a prosthetist, as well as the local VA hospital.

  For now, she was going to speak with Chris Williams by phone. Once he knew where she was, he would begin looking for a peer counselor for her. Face-to-face was really the best way for that therapy to work.

  And it might not be a bad idea for me to find a regular therapist to help me get my head on straight.

  Noah left her suitcases in the living room, rather than taking them down the hallway toward where she imagined the bedrooms were located. He led the way to the kitchen. Sean held out a chair, one that was instantly comfortable. The height of the seat would afford her maximum ease when it came time to stand.

  “Pick your poison. Light, medium, or dark roast coffee? Or, gulp, decaf?” Sean asked.

  Brittany chuckled. She recognized the single cup brewing machine as the same one her mother had. “Light, please.”

  While Sean made coffee, Noah headed to the other end of the counter. He lifted the lid on the slow cooker, and the mouth-watering aroma of chili teased her appetite, an appetite that danced for joy at the sight of the plate of cookies he then brought over to the table.

  One bite had her groaning in gastronomic glee.

  She opened her eyes to encounter laughter on Sean’s and Noah’s faces. “If you think those are good, you’ll have to try Aunt Anna’s banana bread sometime.”

  “With butter?” Brittany could already imagine.

  “Is there any other way to eat warm banana bread?” Sean asked.

  “Personally, I don’t think so.” Brittany smiled.

  Sean returned her grin, and then his expression sobered. He reached for her right hand. “How are you doing?”

  Brittany might have sloughed off the question and given a politely vague answer if anyone else had asked. But Sean and Noah weren’t just anyone.

  They were the men she loved. So she let her own smile go and thought, and then answered, as truthfully as she knew how.

  “Getting there. Coming to grips with the fact that becoming the best me I can be is really an on-going process. The fact that I’m alive really is the main thing. Once I gave myself permission to really grieve…I think that was the corner I needed to turn. Only in my case I wasn’t only grieving my lost limb. I was grieving the two of you.”

  “Which was totally unnecessary.” Sean kissed her hand. “I don’t know how or why we behaved as if you had everything under control. Hell, if I’d been the one to lose a limb, I doubt I’d know how to deal.”

  “As I said, this is going to be an ongoing process for me. You need to know that up front. Chris said I would likely still have setbacks, emotionally as well as physically. He suggested I slip a pillow into my pants so when I keep getting knocked down on my ass, at least I’ll have a softer landing.”

  “You can do that if you like, but we’ll do our best to catch you.”

  “I know you will, and I’ll be glad of it. But I need to learn how to handle this situation.” She leaned forward and took a minute, focused on each man. “If I start to go off the rails again, you need to call me on it. Seriously. This is my new reality. I need to get back to adulting.”

  “Fair enough. And when you feel yourself going off the rails, baby girl, you need to reach out to us. We love you more than life itself.”

  “I will.” She took a moment to sip her really excellent coffee. “I’m not sure where in Texas we are, but I need to make contact with the local VA. They’ll likely have a list of specialists I need to connect with.”

  Sean and Noah exchanged smiles. “We’re about an hour west of Waco,” Noah said. “The G&P Wellness Center has an excellent prosthetist, a man who comes highly recommended.”

  “Also, our cousins, Drs. Robert and David Jessop at the Lusty Clinic, have recently hired a nurse practitioner who has experience with amputees.” Sean met her gaze. “You’ll want to set up an appointment and get to know her. She’ll be able to assess yo
ur healing process, as well as direct you to other specialists as the needs arise.”

  Sean brought her hand to his lips again. “Just at the north edge of town, there’s a ranch, a new facility. It’s dedicated to Equine Therapy, and its therapists are certified through PATH International—Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship. This facility is run by Dr. Charlotta Carmichael Benedict and is called Healing Rides.” He released her hand, using a finger to stroke over the back of it. “Charlotta is a trained psychologist and works with children, as well as adults, who’ve been abused or disabled. With your permission, she’ll come by tomorrow to meet you.”

  “Wow. You’ve been busy.” It floored her how much trouble they’d gone to for her.

  “Since you told us you wanted space,” Sean said, “we’ve been here, working toward this day. We knew this was the perfect place to bring you. We meant it when we told you we loved you. Loving you, it’s our privilege and our responsibility to see to it you have what you need to heal.”

  “It’s also our privilege and our responsibility to love you the way you deserve to be loved.” Noah picked up her other hand and kissed it then returned it to her lap.

  “I have some privilege and responsibility here, too. Like I said, I fucked that up.”

  “So did we,” Sean said. “We’re not starting over. I vote we all simply acknowledge our mutual fuck-ups and move on. Sound good to you?”

  “Yes. It sounds perfect.”

  “Good.” Sean and Noah both got to their feet and smiled down at her. “In that case, come to bed with us, Brittany,” Sean said. “Let us love you and love us in return.”

  She almost couldn’t believe it would be that easy. And then she looked, really looked, at each man in turn.

  She saw their hearts, their integrity, and their sincerity. She saw love, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world to behold.

  She reached out and took their hands. They were careful, oh so careful, when they helped her to stand. She didn’t know how this would work, the choreography of it. So she’d trust them to lead in this dance they were about to perform together.

  “Yes, please. I want to make love with you both.”

  Chapter Six

  Brittany took one step into the bedroom and froze. Before her stood the biggest bed she had ever seen in her life! She took a few steps closer then turned to look at the men.

  “I think we were in our teens the first time we saw Aunt Samantha’s bed,” Noah said. He nodded toward her. “If memory serves, that was our facial expression at the time, too. And by the way, since our aunt has three husbands, her bed is bigger than this one.”

  “If you think the size of the bed is awesome, have a gander at the master bath.” Sean gave those two words the kind of intonation that guaranteed that was going to be her next destination.

  As she made her way toward the bathroom, Brittany appreciated that hardwood covered the bedroom floor, except for the areas right next to the bed. Then she stepped into what had to be a hedonist’s paradise. She couldn’t help but widen her eyes as she took in the shower, the deep, large bathtub, and the spa tub held within the cool and pristine brown and beige tiled room. The shower looked big enough for a party and featured a bench at each end.

  In the center of the shower stall on the ceiling hung a wide, circular showerhead while at each end of the enclosure upper and lower shower wands awaited use. She’d never had a shower with the option of being pelted by five sources of water at the same time.

  The bathtub featured a ledge at the top end and partway down the side big enough for her to sit on, as well as a shelf at the bottom end. This was a bathroom she could use without danger to herself.

  “You did all this for me?”

  “We did it for us. Most of the homes in Lusty feature bathrooms that can pass as play rooms,” Sean said. “The tub was modified with you in mind, and that’s why we asked to have a bench in the shower, too. We wanted you to be able to shower or bathe on your own, if you so choose. But we’re hoping you’ll let us share the water with you.”

  “Thank you.” She looked from one man to the other. “I want to do that—share. But I need to do some basic amputee hygiene first.” She inhaled deeply because she was about to give an entirely new definition to the term, “getting naked.”

  “Do you want us to leave the room, sweetheart?” Noah asked.

  Brittany was quite aware that she hadn’t let them see her stump. She’d even hated for them to see the prosthesis without it being covered by her clothing. By his offer, Noah let her know they were willing to continue to abide by those earlier boundaries.

  She loved these two men, and one way she believed she could prove it to them was by removing this final boundary between them.

  “No. I…I want you to see. As long as when I’m done at the tub here, you’ll help me to get to the shower. Otherwise, I’ll need my crutches out of my second suitcase.”

  Virtually the only time she needed the crutches was when she took off her prosthesis, usually at night or when bathing. She wore her “leg” for several hours a day and had gotten better at walking, though adjustments would likely need to be made on a regular basis.

  “You won’t need your crutches, baby girl.”

  “All right, then.” She walked over to the bathtub and turned, facing them. It didn’t take her very long to unsnap and unzip her pants. Taking them off was easier, too, because she’d practiced doing that with her leg on. Taking them off actually was easier than putting them on. She hooked her panties at the same time and tossed the two items aside.

  Brittany shed the rest of her clothing and then she sat on the edge of the tub. She bent her knee, bringing her left foot up so that it rested on the wide ledge of the tub, allowing her to reach the pin sitting about where her anklebone would have been. She pressed it and then simply slid the “leg” off. She held it up for them to see. “This is the socket, and it’s made of fiberglass. This is still a temporary prosthesis. I’ll get a definitive one—a permanent one—in time.” She handed the socket to Noah, and to his credit, he didn’t blink but instead set it on the counter beside the sinks.

  She was left wearing her socks over the liner. “The pin at the end of the liner, that is sitting inside what’s called the umbrella, is what keeps the prosthetic leg on. When I put it on, the pin locks in place.”

  She slid off the sock that covered the liner. “This is actually three socks, which I wear over the liner because my leg is shrinking, and I need to ensure the socket fits.” She handed those to Sean and then looked at Noah. “Can you bring me my carry-on bag, please?”

  He left the room and returned after only a moment. When he handed the bag to her she pulled out her special soap, as well as a two-foot-long clear plastic tube with a bulb on the end.

  “This is the ‘drying rack’ for my liner. And this”—she put her hand on the gray-colored contraption she still wore—“is my liner.” She removed it by rolling it down until it came off. She held it up and gave both men huge points for looking at the liner and not at her naked stump.

  “This is made of silicone and fits against the flesh. It has to be cleaned every day, as does my stump—to keep odor in check and to prevent infections, which can happen very easily.”

  She turned the liner so it was inside-in again and showed them how she washed it, squirting the anti-bacterial soap into it, adding a bit of water, and using her hand to cleanse every inch of the inside. She rinsed it three times and gave it an extra little shake. Before she could ask, Noah handed her a towel. She sopped up a lot of the water that remained inside the liner and then set it over the drying tube, with the gray outside still on the outside. “I wash the outside less often. This can go over on the counter. It’ll be dry by tomorrow. I have two other liners. I like to rotate them.”

  Then she looked up at them. “I use the same antibacterial soap on my limb, too. It’s the best way to prevent infections.”

  “But you can use other soaps abov
e and beyond that?”

  The teasing look in Sean’s gaze made her heart patter. “Yes.” She looked down at her stump and then up at them. “This is very un-sexy foreplay, isn’t it?”

  “Just the opposite,” Noah said.

  “You’re showing us how much you trust us, Brittany. That is the sexiest thing in the entire world.”

  The awkwardness she’d been feeling disappeared. She sighed then finished her hygiene—she wet her residual leg, used two squirts of the soap and her hands to wash it, then rinsed it off. Sean handed her another towel, and she dried her stump.

  “Now we’d like to take you into the shower. Will you trust us to hold you?”

  She looked up and met first Sean’s gaze and then Noah’s. “I do trust you.”

  Sean nodded and reached for his shirt, peeled it off, and tossed it by the counter. “By the way, you have a very pretty pussy.”

  She’d been so focused on letting them see her stump she’d totally forgotten they could see all of her, especially when she’d lifted her leg so she could wash it.

  She felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. And then, unable to control herself, she laughed. Their accompanying chuckles relaxed her as nothing else could.

  Her laughter trailed off when, as one, Sean and Noah dropped their pants and she got her first look at their cocks. Big and hard, they were clearly ready to party if the tiny drops of pre-cum each sported were any indication. Brittany had been in a state of horniness since she’d set eyes on them earlier that day. It had been a low hum in the background, the softly glowing coals of a fire banked that needed only the tiniest little bit of attention to burst into full, raging flame.

  Brittany licked her lips, and the men both hissed as they inhaled.

  “Oh, baby girl, you have no idea what you’re doing to us, looking at us that way.”

  She met Sean’s gaze. “I’m not doing anything yet. But I hope to, soon.”