Three is a War

by Pam Godwin

  The broken promises, the lies and secrets—all of it was grounds for war. Have we turned a corner? It’s only been one night and a couple conversations, but I already sense a flutter of something I haven’t felt in a long time.

  Possibility.

  I want to try. I owe it to myself, to them, to see where this goes.

  Except I’m scared, and that horrible feeling makes me want to duck and run.

  Fear is a handicap. It was invented to fill the weak spots in the soul, and heaven knows I’m riddled with weaknesses. But that’s okay. I won’t let it control my actions.

  Fear is just a visitor, stopping by to remind me to be stronger.

  Because I have something important to fight for.

  As I watch Cole and Trace finish the dishes, I replay everything they told me tonight and feel at peace with the choices they made. In fact, what occupies my mind the most is the breakdown of their friendship.

  Trace told me once that they used to fight a lot. I suppose that’s not uncommon. The ones you fight with the most are the people you love the deepest. But I’m dying to know just how deep their friendship ran.

  “Can I ask you something?” I draw in a breath. “Both of you.”

  Cole starts the dishwasher and rests his hands on the counter. “Shoot.”

  Trace takes a seat beside me and gives me his full attention.

  “The woman you were with, the traitor… When you mentioned sleeping with her, I sensed there was a story there, something between the two of you. I know it’s in the past. I’m just curious about your relationship before me.”

  “The woman was enamored with Cole.” Trace drags a finger across his bottom lip. “She slept with me to get to him.”

  “I don’t know if that’s true.” Cole huffs a laugh.

  The hint of a smile touches Trace’s mouth.

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” I point at them. “There’s a story there you’re not telling me.”

  “You don’t want to hear this.” Cole opens the fridge and reaches for another beer. Then he changes his mind and grabs a bottled water instead. “It’s meaningless.”

  “Now you have to tell me.”

  He braces a hand on the counter, his eyes cast downward and unblinking.

  “She called out my name,” Trace says without emotion, “during sex with Cole.”

  “Oh.” I grimace. “Ouch.”

  “Like I gave a shit.” Cole scratches his whiskered cheek. “It was just an awkward way to find out my best friend was banging the same woman.”

  “Did you fight about it?” I try to keep my voice even, despite the jealousy thrashing inside me.

  “No.” Cole meets Trace’s steady gaze. “I called him afterward, and we laughed about it.” He pushes off the counter. “I need to hit the head.”

  He strides toward the bathroom off the kitchen. When the door shuts behind him, I lean a hip against the island, facing Trace.

  “Did she prefer you over Cole?” I ask.

  “No.” He swivels toward me on the stool and brackets my legs with his knees. “She was infatuated with Cole.”

  “Enough to send me photos of her having sex with him?” I rest a hand on the cloth napkin sitting on the counter and spin it around, fidgeting. “I’m sure she was pissed that he caught her and brought her in, but that last move with the pictures was an act of passion.”

  “You’re probably right. But it’s over, Danni. You’ll never see her or hear from her again.”

  “Okay.” I pull my hand back, and the napkin slips to the floor.

  I crouch to pick it up, admiring the detail in the carved wood around the base of the island.

  “While you’re down there…” Trace rumbles in a casual tone.

  I lift my head and my gaze falls on his groin a few inches away. My breath catches, and I pop to my feet, standing in the spread V of his thighs. “Was that a joke, Trace Savoy?”

  “I would never joke about that.” He touches a knuckle to my chin and ghosts his finger oh-so slowly to the hollow of my throat. “I missed you. Painfully. Your absence was a horrible way to remind me how much I love you.”

  “I missed you, too, and I’m the idiot who walked away.”

  “You’re an idiot for thinking I’d let you go.”

  “Tell me what you really think.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh.

  “You’re staying.” His gaze illuminates with the infallible confidence he’s known for. “Longer than one night.”

  “I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.” I step back. “Let me see how tonight goes.”

  “Everything that’s happened, the good and the bad, has prepared you for this.”

  “For what?” I swallow.

  “For the reason you’re here.”

  My chest collapses beneath the gravity of his words, and the bathroom door opens.

  Cole joins us at the island, glancing from Trace to me. “Heavy conversation?”

  “Not yet.” Trace studies me for a moment before turning to Cole. “We need to discuss the punishment.”

  My cheeks burn. I don’t need to ask why I’m being punished. Cole didn’t cheat on me. Trace saved my life, and I thanked them by kicking them out of my life. Being spanked for that won’t be my finest moment. It’ll hurt my pride, but my self-esteem could stand to be notched down a bit. After all, pride is the monster that stands between people in a relationship.

  “She’s tired.” Cole rests his elbows on the counter. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

  They fall silent, watching me, watching each other. Our unspoken thoughts settle around us, creating a transition into the next step. We’ve eaten. We’ve talked. We’ve come to a temporary cease-fire. It’s time for bed, and we’re all thinking it.

  “Have you changed your minds about the sleeping arrangements?” I shift my weight for one foot to the other.

  “Nope.” Cole finishes off his water and wanders toward the hallway.

  Trace and I share a look and follow him.

  In the bedroom, Cole stretches out on one side of the mattress and flicks off the lamp, dimming the room to a single light.

  Trace takes the other side, mirroring Cole’s position, legs atop the tangled bedding and arms folded behind his head.

  Three feet of empty mattress waits between them. Enough room for me to slide in without touching a muscled leg or sculpted hip.

  I stand at the foot of the bed, nervous, excited, and most of all, relieved. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want to be here, knowing I’ll hurt one or both of them in the end. Doesn’t stop my heart from swelling in my chest at the sight of them waiting for me.

  Cole’s soft smile flips my stomach inside out. His gaze dips to my mouth, and the memory of his taste tingles my lips like a phantom kiss. I don’t want to ever lose that feeling.

  Trace looks like a half-dressed sex god, all laid out and ready to be devoured. Day-old stubble dusts his chiseled jawline, and his long fingers rest behind his head. If he crooks one of those fingers at me, I might forget we’re going to bed to sleep.

  Climbing in between them, I settle on my side and face Trace with my back to Cole. “Does this feel weird to you? Sleeping in a bed together?”

  “We’ve shared smaller, far more uncomfortable spaces over the years.” Trace rests a hand on his abs, drawing my attention to the corrugated ripples of muscle stretching his skin.

  “Remember that night in the desert?” Cole’s chuckle warms my spine. “Christ, it was cold as fuck.”

  “When were you in the desert together?” I ask.

  “When we were both operatives.” A smile sneaks into Trace’s voice despite the ever-present scowl. “We were newbies on one of our first missions and barely knew each other. But we were so cold we spooned and shivered like pussies all night.”

  “Who was the big spoon?” I bite down on my grin.

  “We’re not talking about this.” Cole groans.

  That answers my question, though it’s
hard to imagine them cuddling in any position. “I wish I could’ve seen that. Specifically, the spooning part. Will you describe it? Like were you sharing a sleeping bag? Whose hands were where? What were you wear—?

  “Enough, Danni.” Trace sets his jaw. “If that’s the outcome you’re hoping for, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

  “I know that.” I clench my hands at my sides. “But if the three of us could be together—”

  “Not happening.” Cole says firmly.

  “Yeah, I figured.” I blow out a wistful exhale. “A girl can dream.”

  “Why would you want that?” Trace’s eyebrows gather. “Is one of us not enough for you?”

  “No, God, that’s not it at all. It’s just…now that I’ve seen you two together without all the hostility, it makes it that much harder. Because if I stay here…” My voice breaks. “If I choose one of you, it’ll ruin any progress you’ve made toward mending your friendship. How do I live with that?”

  “Danni, look at me.” Cole lifts on an elbow, and when I roll to my back, his maple brown eyes lock onto mine. “What if we promise to remain friends after this, no matter what happens, no matter who you choose?”

  “You can’t keep that promise.” My heart ricochets against my ribs. “There would be too much resentment.”

  “You don’t know that.” Trace lifts his eyes to me, hooded by thick lashes. “None of us knows what the future looks like.”

  “Trace and I have come a long way in the past five weeks,” Cole says. “Other than the standoff earlier, which should’ve never involved a gun”—he shoots a glare at Trace—”we haven’t had any major altercations. But I’ll warn you. Even when we liked each other, we fought constantly.”

  “Because you’re a stubborn prick.” Trace says matter-of-factly.

  “I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.” Cole grunts. “But that would be cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “See?” Trace smirks. “We have it all worked out.”

  Maybe it’s all the testosterone in the air, but I’m foggy on how it’s worked out. “Two alphas in the same pack doesn’t end well. It’s usually a fight to the death.”

  “Which is why this arrangement has an expiration date.” Trace releases a slow breath. “In the meantime, I’ll keep Cole on a leash, and he’ll…” His lips twitch, as if holding back an insult.

  “Save your breath.” Cole arches a brow. “You’ll need it to blow up your girlfriend.”

  “What are you…?” My eyes widen. “You’re talking about a sex doll?”

  “It’s the only action he’s going to get for the next six months.”

  “Whoa.” My head spins. “Okay, I’m missing something. What happens in six months?”

  “We put a time line on this arrangement.” Trace rolls to his side to look at me.

  “Why? So I’ll make a decision by a certain date?” I sit up and scoot back to the headboard. “I haven’t even decided if I’m staying.”

  “You’re staying.” Cole shifts to sit cross-legged, facing me. “Admit it, so we can move on.”

  “No.” I cross my arms. “What’s the six-month time line?”

  “I put you at an unfair advantage before.” Quiet, heavy, Cole’s voice scratches in his throat. “You’re so beautifully submissive, and I leveraged that, making it difficult for you to stick to your no-sex rule.”

  He seduced me, thoroughly and completely. But my actions are my own. I knew what I was doing and could’ve stopped it.

  “This time, Trace and I are making the rules.” Cole runs a finger over his eyebrow. “Decisions about sex are between him and me.”

  “What?” Fire ignites in my veins. “That’s not—”

  “I’m not finished.” He leans closer. “We’re staying here until summer—”

  “But it’s January! That’s six…” My voice falls. “Months.”

  “Six months,” Trace says. “We don’t want a decision from you before that.”

  “That’s crazy.” I run a nail over my fleece pants, thinking. “What if I know before then?”

  Wouldn’t I know? Six months is a long time. Especially while living under the same roof with them.

  “If you know, we’ll all know.” Trace’s eyes lose focus and clear just as quickly. “And that will be that.”

  “The point is there won’t be any pressure.” Cole tilts his head. “No pressure to decide. No pressure about sex.”

  “You’re going to go six months without sex?” I look at them with disbelief.

  “Trace has his inflatable friend.” Cole shrugs.

  “I bet your ass is jealous of the shit leaking out of your mouth.” Trace grunts an abrasive sound. Then he turns to me and softens his tone. “With regard to intimacy, we’re taking those decisions away from you.”

  “You can’t—”

  Trace moves so quickly I feel my air cut off before I see his hand wrap around my throat. I claw at his fingers, and he loosens them just enough to open my windpipe.

  My breaths come fast and shallow. My skin heats beneath his ferocious gaze, and my heart hammers out of control.

  The pressure of his hand doesn’t make me fearful. It thrills me, arouses me, and he knows it.

  Warmth trembles in my thighs, and a heavy ache swells between my legs, gathering, throbbing, and forcing a whimper past my lips.

  Cole doesn’t move beside me, his fist resting beneath his chin, his expression dark and unreadable.

  “Nothing turns you on more,” Trace breathes, leaning in, “than surrendering your power to another. You don’t want the control. You want to be relieved of it. You crave the freedom it gives you. Shake your head if I’m wrong.”

  I don’t move, my fingers curled around his wrist, my breath lodged in my throat. He’s right. I want to be owned, dominated, and pleasured by a man I trust. And I trust him when it comes to sex. Both of them. They know my limits, and they have the desire, experience, and skill to effectively master my body. It’s one of the reasons sex with them is so damn good.

  “Your face is flushed.” Trace flexes his fingers against my neck and glances down. “Your nipples are swollen, and your heart is racing.”

  My gaze flies to Cole, and he stares back at me, his eyes pupil-black and half-mast.

  “I’m making a point.” Trace uses his grip to turn my head toward him. “Tell me what it is.”

  “If I stay…” My throat bobs against his hand. “All decisions regarding sex are between you and Cole.”

  “Tell me why.”

  “I prefer it that way.” I wet my lips and whimper. “And it takes the pressure off me.”

  “Good girl.” Trace releases my neck and touches his lips to my brow.

  I melt beneath the warmth of his mouth and slide down on the mattress until I’m flat on my back.

  Cole focuses on my hand where it rests between us. When I lift it toward him, he grips it, knotting our fingers together. Then he lowers his head to the pillow and stretches out on his side, facing me.

  Trace turns off the light, blanketing the room in darkness. The bedding rustles as he slides a blanket over us.

  While still holding onto Cole’s hand, I reach my other toward Trace. His fingers find mine beneath the sheets and clutch tightly.

  No one speaks. Not for the long minutes that follow.

  I waver so uncontrollably between I shouldn’t be here and this is exactly where I’m supposed to be, between resisting and surrendering, fleeing and fighting, that I doubt every thought in my head.

  That’s when it hits me. I’m not leaving. Because if I did, it would only prolong the inevitable. Since they know I won’t be happy without them, they’ll track me down and haul me back.

  Why would they go through so much trouble? I’m just a woman. An average, pain-in-the-ass woman with a lot of flaws.

  “Why are you doing this?” My voice drops to a whisper. “I’m not worth it.”

  “Since the moment I saw you…” Trace squeezes my fingers. “I have
n’t gone a day without thinking about you. No matter how much it hurts or how long it takes, I know that a lifetime with you is worth fighting for.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better than that.” Cole grunts a soft chuckle. “Fucking asshole.”

  I pull my arms to my chest, bringing their hands close and holding them there, against my heart. “What are we going to do for six months?”

  “I’ll show you tomorrow.” Cole shifts closer and brushes a kiss against my shoulder. “Tell me you’re staying.”

  “I’m staying.” I let out a contented sigh.

  I missed this. God, I missed them so much.

  They’re giving me a six-month reprieve from making a decision. That seems like an eternity to make them wait, but we tried it my way, and I messed everything up.

  Things will be different this time.

  While they’re making the rules and controlling the arrangement, I’m going to fight.

  Fight my doubts.

  Fight my fears.

  Fight my indecision.

  I’ll fight through the agony and do the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do.

  I’ll choose which part of my heart I have to let go forever.

  I wake to a quiet room and sunshine warming my face. With a full body stretch, I rouse a little more, blinking, yawning, and alone.

  The mattress on either side of me is cool to the touch. When I strain my ears, I’m met with silence. Where are they?

  I sit up and spot my phone on Trace’s pillow, next to a note scrawled in his elegant penmanship.

  Passcode for all doors is the year your car was made.

  Call your parents.

  I grin at his bossiness and head to the bathroom, where I freshen up and brush my teeth. Then I grab the phone and leave the bedroom in search of coffee.

  Down the hallway and through the living room, I pause at the kitchen island. The house is empty and still. Unless Cole and Trace are in one of the locked rooms, they must be outside.

  I find a pot of coffee waiting, prepare a cup, and step toward the windowed wall in the living room.

  The stone terrace cascades toward the bridge and dock, the majestic scenery glowing in the early morning sun. In the distance, a few boats drift on the calm lake. Closer in, a heron soars over the water.