Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Strong Men [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  Hiding his irritation with the server, he focused on Peter. “You know wines better than I do. Why don’t you order something for us?”

  Peter grinned. “Hm, a chance to educate your palate. I’ll take it.” After a quick scan of the wine list, Peter looked up at him, “We’ll start with an exceptional Merlot.” To the server, he said, “We’ll have the 2003 Twomey.” When the waiter nodded and left them, he said, “It’s from Napa Valley. I think you’ll like it.”

  “As long as you don’t call it a pretentious little minx with a teasing hint of whatever, I’m good.”

  Peter laughed. “Who do you know who’s a wine connoisseur?”

  Jordan smiled. “The geeks both like wine, and they both have incredible memories for facts, figures, and wine reviews. Josh does a great imitation of a pompous gourmand. You should hear him sometime. It’s funny as hell.”

  “Ah, the cousins who are marrying the pretty Penelope in a few weeks.”

  Jordan chuckled. “Even with Grandma Kate’s help, I’m amazed those two got Penelope Primrose to say yes.”

  The sommelier returned with their wine. Of course, the man then had to go through the usual ceremony of pouring out a bit for Peter to taste, and ultimately approve.

  Once they were alone again, Jordan said, “I wonder if anyone ever tastes the selected wine, spits it out, and asks for something else?”

  Peter laughed. “It would almost be worth the embarrassment sometime to do that, wouldn’t it, just to see what the server does?”

  They each took a sip of their wine. “A couple of the guys in the office suggested I try this place, actually. They said it’s one of the best steak houses in the entire country. I’d been meaning to come before now, just never got around to it.”

  Jordan shrugged. “Y.O. is my favorite restaurant in Dallas. I couldn’t think of a better place for us to get together.”

  “God, when the maître d’ found out I was ‘the Kendall party,’ I thought he was going to trip over himself taking care of me.”

  Jordan knew Peter well enough to understand that his teasing was half joke, and half genuine chagrin.

  “It can be uncomfortable, sometimes,” Jordan said. “It’s not as if I’ve ever done anything to deserve being fawned over like that. I just happened to have been born into a wealthy family.”

  “One of the things I admire about you and your family is that none of you puts on airs of any kind. You don’t act like a trust fund baby in any way at all.”

  “God, my fathers would shoot me if I did. Not to mention what my mother would do if she ever got wind of me acting like an asshole.”

  “Your mother’s a lovely woman, but yeah, I would be scared of her, too.”

  “One of the things I like about you,” Jordan toasted him with his glass of wine. “You’re a very perceptive man.”

  “Speaking of your family, how is everyone?”

  “Good. Morgan and Henry are trying to talk Tamara into a wedding sooner rather than later. She thinks they should wait until the business gets well and truly off the ground. Be interesting to see who wins that one.”

  “My money’s on the spitfire,” Peter said. “Gutsiest woman I ever met. Are your brothers still promising to break my kneecaps over that little dustup at the airfield last month?”

  Jordan chuckled. “No, they’ve relented. Likely because of the spitfire.” He took another sip of his wine. It wasn’t half-bad. “My parents are good, of course. They send their regards.”

  “And Tracy? Have you seen her lately?”

  He and Peter had been talking about Tracy off and on as they’d been getting to know each other. That had been unavoidable, as every time they were in Lusty together, they had just sort of naturally gravitated together, the three of them.

  It had always been Jordan’s dream to one day settle into the same kind of relationship as his great-great-grandparents had enjoyed, the same kind of ménage his great-uncles Cameron, Desmond, and great-aunt Monica had lived. He wanted a family. He wanted to find a wife and a husband and settle down in Lusty, Texas. I have no business thinking happily-ever-after and Tracy in the same thought.

  “Tracy’s well. Everyone says she should get her butt to New York. The French Culinary School has a campus there. She’s certainly got the talent to become a world-class pastry chef.” He was proud of her, and absolutely adored her pastries, and that was the only way he should be thinking of her.

  “Jordan?”

  Jordan sighed. He knew why Peter was looking at him with that half-pitying expression on his face. He was in denial when it came to Tracy Jessop. He knew that. “She’s just a kid, Peter. I know the sparks are there, for all three of us. And yes, I know how rare that is.”

  “She’s not a kid, Jordan. She’s twenty-four years old—certainly old enough to know her own mind and plan her own life.”

  “I don’t want us to do anything to get in the way of her pursuing her dream.”

  “Maybe you should find out if we would be.” Peter lowered his voice. “This isn’t an either-or situation. It’s like you said, there are sparks for all three of us, and that is rare.”

  Jordan couldn’t deny that the image of the three of them rolling around on his bed, naked and needy, kept popping up on the IMAX screen of his imagination. He just didn’t want to make the wrong move and end up making a mistake. “We’ll see,” he said and damned himself for a coward when just that ambivalent possibility made Peter smile.

  They each opened their menus and began to peruse the culinary options.

  “Since this is one of your favorite restaurants, what do you recommend?” Peter asked.

  “That depends.” Jordan smiled. “How adventurous are you?”

  “That depends”—Peter tilted his head slightly to the side and lowered his voice—“on the occasion and the company.”

  That deepened tone of Peter’s felt like fine velvet being brushed along his skin. Good thing he was sitting, his lap partially hidden by the low-hanging tablecloth. There wasn’t much he could do to suppress this erection. He smiled at Peter and imagined the man naked. “Noted for future reference. As for the here and now, the Buffalo Filet Mignon is one of their more famous creations.”

  “Why would their chef get his steak from New York? I thought Texas had the best steaks in the country.”

  Jordan snickered. “Not Buffalo, New York. Buffalo, as in bison.”

  Peter looked at him for a long moment, his expression blank. “You mean, as in ‘give me a home where the Buffalo roam…’?”

  “That would be the one.” Jordan said.

  “Huh. Well.” Peter cleared his throat audibly. “Have you ever had it?”

  “I have, and on more than one occasion.” Since Peter looked so damned attractive when he was nonplussed, Jordan relented. “It’s very tender, and I thought a bit sweeter than beef. I liked it.”

  “Then I guess I’ll give it a try.”

  They both ordered the buffalo and a side of grilled asparagus and one of baked sweet potatoes, both to share.

  “I’m going to waive an appetizer, in favor of having dessert.” Peter closed the menu and handed it to the server.

  “That sounds good, I’ll do the same,” Jordan said.

  When they were alone again, Jordan rested his arms on the table, the posture bringing him just a bit closer to Peter.

  “It’s been a month since we first met.”

  “It has, exactly.” Peter mimicked Jordan’s pose. “I was thinking about that as I was driving here tonight. It’s been a very fast month, in some ways.”

  “And slow as hell in one very significant way.” Jordan met Peter’s gaze and held it. “It was a good idea, just taking the time to get to know each other, before moving on to the next level. I’m glad we decided to move slowly. It felt right to do that.”

  “Yes, it did.” Peter reached out and gently ran his finger over Jordan’s hand that rested on the table.

  Jordan couldn’t suppress the shiver of need
that raced down his spine any more than he could prevent himself from discreetly looking around. It was early yet, and the restaurant not even at half capacity. More importantly, no one sat close enough to have seen Peter’s affectionate, teasing gesture.

  He caught the slight hint of something in Peter’s gaze, just a flicker, before it cleared. They had gotten to know each other fairly well in the last month, enough so that Jordan knew what he’d seen. He understood why Peter would be a little disappointed in him from time to time, since it was a reaction he shared.

  He disappointed himself often enough. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of being bisexual. He wasn’t. He just felt that his sexual orientation was an intensely private matter.

  And maybe that’s just bullshit.

  Perhaps it was time to think about changing—himself, his reactions, and his own perceptions. One change in particular, he’d waited long enough to make.

  “I’ve scheduled a couple of days off, and I have an overnight bag in the car. We own a building not far from here, with apartments that are reserved for family. I’m booked in for the next few days. So after we indulge ourselves in the restaurant’s dessert selection, why don’t we have another, more delectable dessert of our own? Your place or mine?”

  “I have an early-morning thing I need to go to, so I won’t have as long with you as I’d like, tonight. But when it’s done, I can be clear for the rest of tomorrow, and the time you’re here in town. I have vacation time coming,” Peter said.

  There were always going to be outside commitments. Jordan understood and accepted that. “Sounds perfect,” he said. “Question still stands.”

  “We’ll start out at mine for tonight, if that’s okay. I’ve wanted you in my bed since I met you.” The look Peter sent him heated his blood and stirred his cock.

  The waiter arrived with their dinners. Anticipation ran hot and heavy through Jordan’s veins. He wondered if he’d be able to taste a single bite of his meal.

  Chapter 2

  “That was so good.” Julia Benedict punctuated her comment by running her finger along the plate, and licking off the tiny bit of cream and powdered sugar she gathered.

  “Thanks.” Tracy raised her glass to toast her friend. “There’s nothing like a totally inappropriate dinner of sweets and wine to make a woman feel mellow.”

  “And since I brought my pj’s, I can get as mellow as I like.” Julia helped herself to another glass of wine. She poured some into Tracy’s glass, too.

  Her friend didn’t seem to notice that Tracy had only had a couple of sips from her glass. Good, my plan is working.

  “So, what’s it like in New York? I mean, I’ve visited a few times, of course, but I’ve never actually lived there. I hear it’s exciting, the most exciting city in the world, full of bright lights, lots of music, and handsome men.” Tracy said the last two words with special emphasis.

  Julia scoffed. “Yeah, right. It’s big, it’s noisy, and it’s crowded. Full of smooth-talking sailors who’re all full of that any-port-in-a-storm mentality. Oh sure, they say they’re interested in intimacy—but it’s just sex they have on their brains, nothing more.” As if she just realized she said too much, Julia took another sip of her wine. And then, “Give me Texas any day. I am so glad to be home.”

  Uh-oh. Tracy observed her friend for a long minute. “Do you want to talk about it, Jules?”

  Julia didn’t pretend not to know what Tracy was talking about. “Not right now. Maybe later. It’s just…”

  Tracy knew Julia well enough to understand that whatever it was, Julia had been wounded somehow, and that wound was still too raw to discuss.

  “You know I’m here for you, right?”

  Julia reached across Tracy’s small dining table and clutched her hand. “I know. I’ll likely cry all over your shoulder before too long. Just not tonight.”

  Tracy turned her hand over and squeezed back. “Okay.”

  “What I really want to hear about is you. How’s your love life been?”

  “In a word? Nonexistent.”

  “Well hell’s bells, girl, what are you waiting for? Or…has Jordan found another woman?”

  “No. He has found another man, but that’s good. Better than good.” Tracy sighed. “It’s perfect. He’s perfect. The two of them together are perfect.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of perfectly perfect…um…perfect.” Julia’s eyes glittered in merriment. “My first question—which you didn’t answer by the way—stands. What are you waiting for?”

  Tracy shrugged. “I was waiting for him to make a move. When Jordan met Peter, there was this instant connection between the two men, and I was so happy, because when I met Peter, it was the same for me.” Tracy paused, because every time she replayed in her mind the times she’d spent with the two men in the last month, she couldn’t help but have high hopes. Peter Alvarez flirted with her outrageously, yes. But when he looked at her, when their gazes met, there was such heat in his eyes. In Jordan’s, too, though he usually was pretty quick to douse it.

  “Hmm, is this Peter good enough for you and Jordan?”

  Trust Julia to ask that. She was always looking out for those she considered “hers.” Both she and Jordan had fallen into that category, years before.

  “Peter is Special Agent Peter Alvarez, of the DEA. Not only is he good enough, he’s a descendent of the original Mendez family.” Tracy went on to tell Julia about his coming to town, undercover, and about what Peter still referred to as the “dustup out at the airfield” when he got shot.

  “Good thing he wasn’t badly hurt. So, again, what are you waiting for?”

  “Have you been talking to Grandma Kate?”

  “Of course. I talk to her every day. In fact, she’s always been the one member of my family I’ve always confided in. That hasn’t changed. Anyway, I’m staying at the Big House until my own house is ready for me. The town trust insisted on painting it and installing a new kitchen. It’s nearly done.” Julia smiled. “I get the feeling everyone wants me to stay in Lusty.”

  “Of course we do. And with your new job in Waco, there’s no reason you can’t commute. A lot of people do just that.”

  “Tracy?”

  Tracy sighed. Julia Benedict had certainly earned the nickname “bulldog” when she was younger, and apparently New York living hadn’t robbed her of any of that particular trait.

  “Grandma Kate gave me Sarah’s journal to read. She seems to think it will inspire me.”

  Julia looked at her for a long minute. “I had no idea Grandma could be so sneaky,” she said.

  Now Tracy’s curiosity was piqued. “Sneaky, huh?”

  “Very. Have you read it yet?”

  “No, I just got it this afternoon. But I will. I’ll read it first chance I get.”

  “See that you do, young lady.” Julia wagged her finger.

  Tracy laughed. It certainly was good having her cousin and best friend home again. They’d declared themselves to be sisters of the spirit when Tracy had been ten, and Julia a much older fifteen, and no one in the families had ever made fun of that pledge—likely because there’d been so few females born to Jessops, Kendalls, or Benedicts. The families were swimming in Y chromosomes.

  Tracy decided it was time to lighten the mood. “What do you say we pop that first movie into the DVD and forget about men for a while?”

  “I say, sister-mine, I am so there.”

  A lighter mood for now, Tracy thought. But she would find out what had hurt her friend. And then she’d decide what to do about it.

  * * * *

  Peter followed Jordan over to the Kendall Plaza so he could park his car in the underground garage. It only took Jordan a moment to grab his bag and get into Peter’s car. During the fifteen-minute ride from there to Peter’s apartment which lay just out of the downtown area, neither of them said a word.

  The time for talking was past. Peter’s emotions were so wired at the moment he damn near vibrated. And he could tell just by looki
ng at him that Jordan felt the same way.

  His apartment door closing behind them sounded like a gunshot blast.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” He’d been in the place for six weeks, and had recently stocked his bar and his fridge. Wine for himself and beer for Jordan. That’s what he and Jordan were, in a way. In some things they had totally different tastes. But it didn’t mean they were a bad mix.

  “No, thanks. Nothing to drink for me.”

  Jordan looked over his shoulder at him, and the heat in his eyes nearly seared Peter to the bone. Without another word, and as if he’d done so a hundred times before, Jordan sought out the bedroom.

  Peter followed him, his pace deliberately slow when what he wanted to do was race, the way his heart was racing.

  Preparations had consumed Peter and fired his blood just that afternoon. He’d been busy and filled with anticipation. He’d put fresh sheets on the bed and turned the light down to burn low when he’d left. He’d also set out an unopened box of condoms and a fresh tube of lube.

  Just in case.

  Now he stopped at the doorway, taking a moment to capture this picture, to savor it. Jordan finally stood in his bedroom, in what he hoped he would soon consider his bedroom, too.

  Peter had always been one to know instinctively what he wanted. All his life, he’d made choices that seemed at best to be random. He hadn’t been in Lusty, Texas, long when he knew what he wanted his life to be years in the future. He wanted a house just on the edge of the small central Texas town, with a couple of kids, and Jordan Kendall and Tracy Jessop as his forever-mates.

  “I want you so damn badly I’m shaking.”

  Jordan’s confession smoothed Peter’s jitters. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “Me, too. I’m torn between seeing how fast we can make each other come and taking this first time nice and slow, savoring it.”

  Jordan dropped his overnight bag where he stood then turned and took two steps toward him. Peter also took two steps, which brought him within touching distance.