by Liz Crowe
“She should sleep through the night now,” Michael said, finally.
“Yes,” Graeme agreed and got up from the bed. He was going to kill Barry.
*****
“Hell of a fucking story. God, she scared the shit out of me with that scream,” Graeme said. “Another whisky before you go back to bed?”
“Yes,” Michael replied, eyes restless. Maybe it was their nakedness or maybe it was the same hate he felt burning through his own veins.
He’d been fully prepared to dislike Michael, both before and after he’d found out who he was. It certainly hadn’t helped the budding animosity when two FBI agents showed up at the scene, despite the all clear on the possible Enwright kidnapping. Then the state police sent a lieutenant instead of an investigative officer, and he’d had to listen to the three of them try to outmaneuver each other trying to get close to Michael. Bunch of ass lickers.
He’d left them to it and went to stand by the ambulance and Lizzie. Michael had joined him a few minutes later, after telling the other three he was putting his faith in the sheriff. As lead balloons go, that information hadn’t gone over well. All of that plus practically blackmailing him to bring him along hadn’t exactly boded well for friendship.
Michael casually turned toward the window, nursing his whisky, and staring out at the starlit night. “Want to tell me about her?” he asked.
With a sigh, Graeme moved to stand next to Michael. “Not much to tell,” he said, with a shrug. “We dated, I loved her, but it wasn’t enough. Barry was always begging her to go out with him. I encouraged her to try new things, hoping she would realize I needed to try other things as well. Shit.
“We were too fucking young to know what we wanted. Then Barry joined the Army and was going to Afghanistan. He begged her to marry him before he left. She did and worked hard at being a wife. I worked hard at being a cop. Eventually I left.
“Fuck!” He pounded his fist against the heavy glass of the patio door. “This is fucking my fault. I should never have pushed her into his arms.”
He turned to meet Michael’s steady gaze. “I can’t forgive myself for this.”
Michael raised a comforting hand to Graeme’s shoulder and gave a squeeze. “You were young, and you needed to find out who you really were. This isn’t your fault, Graeme. You’re not responsible for this, Barry is. You do realize we’re going to kill him?”
He studied Michael’s face. So calm, so self-assured. “Yes,” he agreed.
One word said it all. Years of training, of commitment to law and order, gone without regret. Together, they would hunt down and kill Barry Ashford.
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. His traitorous hand reached out to smooth Michael’s uninjured cheek. When Michael didn’t pull away, Graeme lowered his head and brushed Michael’s lips in a quick kiss. The deal was sealed.
Chapter Three
Graeme arrived back at his cabin just as the delivery truck pulled down the dirt driveway. Michael was stripped to the waist while he helped two other men sort wires and stakes. The surveillance equipment. He caught Lizzie’s gaze and gave a nod before briefly consulting with Michael. It had been quiet except for the delivery.
He swung onto the porch, sat next to Lizzie, and took her hand. “They didn’t find any trace of Barry. I filed your statement along with my report. The FBI agents showed up again. They wanted to talk with Michael. I told them I would pass it along if I saw him.”
Lizzie smiled. “If you see him,” she said dryly.
“Well, I could be wrong, but maybe one of those strapping lads down there can get a message to him.”
“Why is he helping me?” she asked.
“I think he must have an overwhelming sense of right and wrong, and I’m not sure he trusts us lawmen to get it right. It’s probably why he started his company.”
“You know, I thought he was your lover last night.”
Graeme went very still.
Lizzie continued, “It must have been the drugs, because I do realize you didn’t know who he was at the rest stop. Still, I suppose other things have fallen into place for me this morning.”
“What do you mean?”
She squeezed his hand tightly. “You’re gay. I don’t know why I never figured it out before. Not that you’re obvious. Not that there’s anything wrong with—”
He started to laugh as Lizzie blushed furiously.
“Stop laughing at me,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’m just embarrassed because all this time I thought you just didn’t love me.”
“Silly, little bit, don’t you know I’ve always loved you?”
“Not like I loved you, not like I wanted you. I would have married you in a minute, Graeme Kennedy. Instead, you found me someone else, someone you thought would love me better than you could. I didn’t understand that at all, you know,” she said on a sigh.
“We should have had this talk a long time ago, sweetheart. I’ve loved you since the day I first laid eyes on you, but I was confused. Are you sure you’re okay to talk about this now? Because if you’re ready to talk, I’m going to ask Michael to join us. Some of the history might spill over into what’s happening now.”
“Yes, let’s do this, I don’t want to wait.”
He stood and watched Michael for a minute before he called him over. He wore a pair of Graeme’s shorts, and his thighs were as big as trees. Muscles rippled under golden, sweat-slick skin. His dark hair was tied back, and loose curls clung to his neck and face. Lizzie’s hand slipped into Graeme’s as he stood at the edge of the porch and watched.
“I’ve been watching Michael all morning. He’s pretty magnificent, isn’t he?” she asked.
Graeme glanced down at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “So are you, sweetheart.”
“You don’t need to say that. My ego isn’t that fragile any more. It’s pretty obvious you find him yummy.” She smiled.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea what I find yummy,” he said and pulled her into a hot, demanding kiss. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her in his arms. He pushed his tongue against the soft “oh” that escaped her mouth, and her lips parted for him. Her mouth was sweet with a faint taste of peppermint. He cradled her chin in his hands and deepened the kiss, savoring the feel of her tongue tangling with his. When he drew back, it was with a final suck on her plump, delicious lower lip.
“Seems to me, that if anyone gets kissed, it’s supposed to be the hero, and I believe that was me,” Michael said lazily from close enough behind Graeme to make him jump.
Elizabeth giggled and smiled. “I’m not sure I know you well enough for that!”
Michael winked and moved past her into the shade of the covered porch. “You wanted to talk to me?” he asked.
*****
Michael looked from the auburn-haired beauty to the dark-haired devil at her side. She was lush, curved in all the right places, with eyes that sparkled emerald when she smiled. Graeme was an interesting mixture of cowboy and cop. Tall, with short, dark hair that curled around his ears. His eyes were dark as night and gave nothing away. He watched everything, like a cat, waiting to pounce underneath that veneer of lazy grace.
Michael moved them inside to talk. You never knew what toys Ashford might have access to, and sound could carry a long way outside. He turned on some music to create some background noise, ignored Graeme’s barbs about making himself at home, and got them each a cold beer.
After a few minor complaints from Graeme over the boxes of supplies that now littered the floor of the kitchen, they were ready to get started, but neither Graeme nor Liz looked as if they were ready to go first. That was okay, he was ready to start.
“Here’s what I know about the two of you. Feel free to interrupt if I’ve got something wrong. You and Graeme dated in high school, but Graeme wasn’t sure enough about his own sexuality. He thought you’d be better off with someone else,” he said looking at both of them.
“Goddamn, Michael!” Graeme said. “Don’t fuckin’ sugarcoat it.”
“You’ll never get sugarcoating from me,” he assured Graeme.
Shaking his head, Graeme said, “Hell, it’s okay. That about sums it up, anyway. Little bit, I did love you, but I wasn’t ready to commit to anyone, not even you. I couldn’t help feeling this attraction to other men, and I didn’t know what to do about that. You wanted to settle down, I still felt like a kid. We’d known Barry for a while, he seemed like a nice guy, and I thought he really cared for you. It never occurred to me that you would decide to marry him!”
Liz sighed. “It seems so long ago now. Nearly ten years. I don’t know if I can explain so it’ll make sense, because it hardly makes sense to me now. I was fourteen when my parents divorced, and it left me feeling unsettled, as if I couldn’t believe in anything. I became obsessed with wanting to belong, with wanting someone to love me. I wanted the whole fairy tale, happily-ever-after ending. I thought I was going to have that with you, Graeme, but you were having your own issues and pulled away.
“I understand that now, but not then. It just felt like another abandonment. Barry told me all the things I wanted to hear. He loved me, and he wanted me to marry him so he’d have something to hold on to when he left on his deployments. I understood that need for an anchor. So we married. Seems ridiculous now, but we made it work for a long time.
“Most of the time it was like being single. He was always deployed, and I started working for Brooker, going to college at night. Time passed quickly. He would come home for one or two months, and then take off for five or six months at a time. It wasn’t until this last time that there was a huge problem, and I told you about that last night,” she finished with a shrug.
Michael wasn’t fooled; he knew that story had cost her a lot.
Graeme said, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think we need to put it on the table here. I do still love you. I want to keep you here forever, not just because of the danger, but because I feel like this is where you belong.”
The pronouncement caught Michael off guard; he felt left out. It was the same feeling he’d had on the porch watching them kiss, and he didn’t like it. He pushed the conversation forward. He didn’t want to hear their declarations of love.
“All right, now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about Ashford for a minute. The windows are already wired, the perimeter will be wired in another thirty minutes, then it’ll be just us up here. I took the liberty of bringing in some supplies. Tonight is ours to do whatever we want. He won’t come yet, because the area is still too hot with the feds. We probably have two or three days at most, but we still need to be on our guard.
“Liz, did you ever see your husband in uniform?” he continued, throwing the question out casually.
Elizabeth immediately shook her head. “No, he was part of some kind of Special Forces unit. They weren’t supposed to let anyone know who they were.”
“Well, brace yourself, sweetheart. There is no record of Barry Ashford as a member of any branch of the armed forces. There is, however, a lot of evidence documented at the State Department that Ashford is a mercenary. He’s wanted on several counts of murder and espionage in Afghanistan. It’s all been a lie.”
*****
Elizabeth spent the afternoon coming to terms with what she’d learned and with the mess she’d made of her personal life. She’d called into work and let them know why she’d disappeared and that, under the circumstances, it was unlikely she’d return before the week was up. She wasn’t sure she’d still have a job, but right now she didn’t care. She’d called an attorney friend of hers to get started on having the entire marriage annulled. The news about Barry should have been more shocking, but she’d realized in her telling of their story that she’d spent very little time with the man over the years. It was an incredible relief to know it was coming to an end and she’d be able to erase him from her life and start over.
While she was thinking, she sorted through the boxes Michael had delivered to the cabin. She marveled at what wealth could do. The security items had been left outside, but the boxes for inside the house were like Christmas. His clothes had gone over the cliff with his SUV; hers were still with Barry. He hadn’t even asked, just quietly made the arrangements with someone to provide her with everything she could need. In addition to clothes, he’d apparently requested lots of food, a case of expensive single malt whisky, wine, and beer. It looked like they were here for a month-long party instead of under siege.
She dressed for the evening in an elegant jade green silk blouse and a pair of white capris, marveling at both the assortment of casual and dressy clothes he’d provided as well as his eye for style and size. Who had he gotten to purchase all of this? She could learn to love a man like him.
Bouncing into the living room, determined to make the evening a festive one, Liz went straight for Michael. With a grin, she threw herself into his arms for that hero’s kiss he’d been lamenting earlier.
His arms banded around her, and his mouth claimed hers. The kiss exploded. Her mouth opened, and his tongue was sleek, gliding. He bent her back slightly in his arms, and found another angle so he could reach more of her mouth. She pulled his tongue, sucking as he slid it in and out, an unexpected promise.
His fingers twisted into her hair, tugging firmly, holding her right where he wanted her, and she felt herself grow wet with desire. Oh God, this got out of hand fast.
He stood her up on shaky legs and gave a little growl that sent shivers up her spine. Before she could even think, she was grabbed from behind and turned around. Her Graeme was smiling at her, that same crooked smile she’d grown up loving.
“My turn,” he said, and although she wasn’t even clear of Michael’s arms, Graeme pressed against her and gave his own version of the mind-melting kiss.
Graeme’s mouth was different but just as delicious. His shadow beard rubbed against the skin of her cheek. He bit her lips, as if taking the taste of the other man and savoring it. Michael pressed against her backside, never stepping away to give Graeme more room to work.
Elizabeth’s senses swirled, and she thought it was entirely possible to drown in the overwhelming kisses of these two men.
Michael’s hands found her waist and slid under her shirt to rest against her bare skin, burning her. Graeme pressed his hips forward. There was no doubt he was very happy to be right where he was.
The common sense side of her wanted to slow things down, take her time, consider the consequences. The woman that survived the beatings and near-death experience said fuck that! She’d survived, and she wasn’t going to let Barry or anyone else take anything away from her again. She was ready to make a serious change starting now, because life was too short not to take chances.
*****
A buzz from the oven timer interrupted and let everyone know dinner was ready. Their arms and hands tangled a bit as Graeme pulled away to take the lasagna out of the oven. Michael kept his hand casually on Elizabeth’s waist and watched as wine was poured and the food set out on the table. He knew he should offer to help, but was unwilling to let go of the soft warmth of her skin before he had to.
Food and cleaning up together after dinner put things back into a more normal perspective and conversation turned to discovering common interests. They all enjoyed the outdoors, baseball was their favorite sport, and surprisingly enough, each of them cooked. Somehow talk about cooking turned to a competition, and since Graeme already cooked, they’d agreed that Liz would cook tomorrow’s dinner, and he would cook the next day. They each swore to judge the meals fairly, and the winner was exempt from dish duty for a week. None of them mentioned it was unlikely they’d still need to be together in a week. It was a very enjoyable dinner between friends.
When Elizabeth excused herself for a trip to bathroom, Graeme looked at Michael.
“Want to tell me what’s going on, Michael? What was that ki
ss about?”
He thought of a lot of smart ass answers, but what came out was the simple truth. “I don’t know. Being with… Liz… it’s just… Aww, fuck it. I don’t know, okay?”
“I won’t let you hurt her. You know that, right?” Graeme said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Michael jumped to his feet, hands clenched by his side as he stared blindly out the window. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t treat women like that. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I was on a date. I don’t do anything but fucking work. I work twenty hour days and then sleep at the office! I finally decided to make a change, to experience life, and two hours later I run into her. To you. Fuck it! I’m going to bed.”
He brushed past Liz on her way back to the living room, stooped abruptly to kiss her on the top of her head, and then retreated for the night.
*****
“What happened?” Liz asked, coming fully into the room.
“I’m not sure. I think our Michael might be having conflicts of his own.” He repeated their conversation.
“What about you? Are you still having conflicts, Graeme?”
“No, I know what I want. I want you, Lizzie,” he said, reaching his hand to stroke her face.
“And what about Michael, Graeme? We both know you want Michael, too. I saw the look in your eyes.”
“It’s okay, little bit. I love you, and I don’t want to be without you anymore.”
He leaned in, as though for a kiss, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest. Her own pulse beat a tattoo, and she knew she was poised on the edge of an emotional cliff. With a deep breath, Liz stepped closer and slipped her arms around Graeme’s waist.
“What if I want more, Graeme?” she asked.
Chapter Four