Storm discovered Kris’s description of calling his home a painted lady was spot on. The huge Victorian boasted at least three floors with many wings in different directions. The roof sported multiple gables, and it had a large wrap-around porch with ornamental spindles and brackets.
Storm parked his truck in the driveway in front of a modern three-car garage styled to look like an old carriage house. The house and garage sported at least four different shades of purple, with a stripe of contrasting dark orange.
He entered the house to encounter a whole new set of colors and room shapes that blew his mind. He had yet to find a room in the house that was square. The gaudy wallpaper almost made his eyes bleed during the brief tour Kris gave him. The whole place was crazy and bizarre. And Storm loved it.
The utility room turned out to be perfect for Ralph. It didn’t take long to set up his litter box and bed area. With Kris’s help, Storm easily rabbit-proofed the rest of the tiled room.
Storm suggested Kris help Corey shower off the rest of the smoke and soot covering the poor man’s body while he ordered in Chinese food. After putting in the order, Storm took his bags up to a bedroom on the second floor Kris had told him he could use. He could hear the other two men talking in the next room. Knowing he had time before the food arrived, he took a quick shower.
They met up in a large family room off the kitchen. Unlike the rest of the rooms in the house, whose furniture kept with the antique Victorian theme, the décor of this room ran along the lines of easy-going family life. A huge, deep-cushioned sectional sofa with a chaise lounge at one end invited anyone who entered to sit down and let it hug you. Other oversized recliners waited next to a huge white fireplace to provide a relaxing place to unwind from the stresses of life.
The last couple of days’ activities caught up with them, and all three collapsed onto the sectional, ready to enjoy their food. Ralph hopped into the room. All it took was lifting onto his back legs and twitching his nose for Ralph to find a comfy place on Kris and Cory’s lap. Storm tried not to be jealous of a rabbit.
Now empty plates sat on the octagonal coffee table in front of them, and Storm was enjoying the homey atmosphere. He also felt a bond growing between him and the two men snuggled together with Ralph.
“Where did you find Ralph?” Corey asked, running a bandaged finger along the edge of the bunny’s floppy blue-gray ear.
“When my unit’s discharge papers came through, we all kind of scattered in the wind,” Storm said, after taking a drink of beer from the bottle Kris had brought him. “I found myself working at a fire station in the Twin Cities. One day I was driving around looking for something to do and saw a sign advertising a county fair. I decided to check it out. After walking around for an hour looking at all the exhibits, I entered a barn filled with rabbits and chickens. In the corner, a little girl was selling tiny balls of fluffy bunnies.”
“I would have ended up taking all of them home,” Kris commented, rubbing the side of Ralph’s face. The bunny slowly closed his eyes, looking like he was in total ecstasy.
“The little girl tried to talk me into taking two, but I felt one bunny was enough to deal with,” Storm admitted.
He could see Ralph loved every minute of all the attention the two men were giving him. The rabbit was a good judge of character, and Storm saw the bunny approved of Kris and Corey. That was good because Storm wanted them both and Ralph’s opinion was a deal-breaker.
A low buzzing sound echoed through the house. Kris shifted Ralph over onto Corey and sat up. “I wonder who that could be.”
Storm watched Kris leave the room admiring his tight ass outlined by the thin black material of his pants.
“You have no idea how out of character it is for Kris to ask you to stay here. Even getting that beer for you without you asking is a big deal. This last year I’ve had to invite myself or just show up with a bag to end up living here. He would never make the effort to ask,” Corey said.
“It sounds like it hasn’t been an easy year for either of you,” Storm said. He wasn’t going to make any judgments yet. He found there were two sides to every story. Storm also had his own ideas about what was going on.
“I love Kris, I really do. I want to be with him forever, but he’s so cold. If you take his hand, he’ll hold it, but he never initiates anything, ever.” Corey hazel eyes were cloudy with misery.
Storm stood and went over to Corey. Easily he maneuvered the smaller man holding Ralph in his arms. Corey melted into him, soaking up Storm’s small gesture of affection. The picture of Corey and Kris’s relationship was getting clearer.
“Corey, Heidi’s son, Jerry, is here,” Kris said, coming into the room.
Two teenage boys followed Kris into the room. Storm estimated they were around seventeen and just on the edge of manhood. Both were dressed in T-shirts, baggy jeans, and neon-colored athletic shoes. Baseball caps sat at crooked angles on their heads.
“Hey, Mr. Casey,” the blond said. “My dad sent me over to ask if you’d like him to go pick up your car at the flower shop and bring it back here.”
“That would be great,” Corey said. “Let me get the keys.”
Corey paused in getting off the sofa and looked down at his bandaged hands. Storm chuckled at the confused look on his face. “Where are your keys?” he asked.
“They’re on the dresser in my bedroom,” Corey answered.
Storm watched Corey frown and his mouth tighten as he looked at Kris. The friendly, pleasant expression on Kris’s face turned into confusion when he caught sight of Corey’s sharp gaze.
A hand on his leg stopped Corey from leaving the sectional. “Kris, could you go find Corey’s keys for Jerry?” Storm asked.
Kris’s pretty light blue eyes went from dull and bleak to warm and sparkling when Storm smiled at him.
“I’ll go get them,” Kris said before turning to leave the room.
“Thanks, Kris,” Corey said.
Kris stopped. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and his brows were up halfway up to his hairline. “Um, you’re welcome,” he said. Both men smiled at each other, and the love between them became almost touchable.
The dark-haired teen behind Jerry cleared his throat, breaking the moment. Kris left the room, and Storm studied the kid. Messy brown hair topped a pale face containing patches of acne. In a few years, the kid would grow into his overly long arms and legs. Until then Storm could see he was adopting the classic slumped, slouching I-don’t-care-what-anyone-thinks attitude.
From under his scruff of shaggy bangs, the kid watched Kris leave the room. Storm couldn’t get a read on him until his gaze shifted to Corey and then landed on Storm. For a split second, Storm saw blazing hatred in the kid’s eyes.
Ralph’s agitated twitching nose caught Storm’s attention. The rabbit’s floppy ears jerked around. Ralph hopped off of Corey’s lap and scurried out of the room.
Jerry shifted his body, drawing everyone’s gaze to him. He jabbed his thumb at his companion and said, “This is George.”
“Hi, George,” Corey said.
“Hi,” Storm said, waiting to see how George would respond. He wasn’t used to teenagers and hadn’t a clue if this guy’s behavior was normal or not.
George nodded but didn’t say anything.
The silence in the room extended until Kris walked back in with a smile on his face. “I found them right on the dresser like you said.” After handing the keys to Jerry, he instructed the teen, “Tell your father we appreciate him bringing Corey’s car back here. Let him know I’ll have something waiting for him when he returns the keys.”
“I will,” Jerry said. Pausing, he smiled. “Is there any chance it’s those cookies you always make?”
Kris laughed. “Maybe.”
“Cool.”
Kris followed the teens out of the room. Storm hadn’t missed the sharp look George had thrown at Corey and him before he left.
“Huh,” Corey said, biting his lip.
“Y
ou have something to say?” Storm asked.
“I was just trying to figure out why George kept giving us dirty looks,” Corey said.
“Yeah, I caught that too,” Storm said.
“So I wasn’t imagining it?” Corey asked.
“You weren’t imagining what?” Kris asked, standing in front of them.
“Jerry’s friend George kept giving Storm and me the stink eye,” Corey answered.
Kris shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe he didn’t like Storm’s arm around you when we walked in here.”
Storm heard a slight edge in Kris’s tone. “Do you have a problem with me putting my arm around Corey?”
Kris’s started chewing on his fingernail before turning around and crossing to the other side of the room. He sat down in an antique wooden rocking chair placed next to a built-out window and looked over at them. “I don’t know.” The chair creaked as it jerked back and forth.
Storm studied Kris. Most people saw a very attractive man with shiny dark hair styled short on the sides and longer in front. His startling light blue eyes beckoned a person to pause and watch them as Kris’s expressive face showed his different emotions. Kris’s slim body gave off a vibe that he sometimes got caught up in the moment and forgot to eat. He seemed one meal away from being at a normal weight. Storm saw all of this and so much more.
Kris was a good man who did not instinctively know when a person needed something. He wasn’t cold or unfeeling. In Storm’s mind, he imagined the thought process most people used when they saw someone in need fly right past Kris’s ear as if it were a paper airplane. He just didn’t see it. And it frustrated Kris when he could feel others expecting something from him but he didn’t know why.
When Storm asked Kris to perform a task, the man almost collapsed in relief and jumped at it. Unfortunately for Corey, Kris’s hiccup clashed with his need to be shown he was wanted.
The heated conversations between the two men painted a picture for Storm on Corey’s upbringing. No doubt the handsome Corey, with his gorgeous, huge hazel eyes, shiny brown hair cut straight just past his ears, and a tight, lean body, was the apple of his mega-moneyed parents’ eyes. Corey was no poor little rich boy. It was clear to Storm that Corey was used to attention and swaddled in love.
Kris talked about the adventures Corey went on with his dad. That told Storm they were close. Corey wasn’t a snob in any way, shape, or form. Storm concluded that Corey didn’t understand why Kris objected to his buying him stuff. To Corey, giving, whether it be objects or affection, was how you showed love. To Corey, Kris neither accepted nor gave.
Where did Storm fit in this mix? He figured he was about to find out.
Chapter Nine
“Come on, Kris. You’re the one who brought Storm to my room holding hands. You asked him to stay here. What are you going to do now, kick me out and keep Storm for yourself?” Behind the hard accusations, Storm heard hurt and desperation in Corey’s voice.
The only sound in the room was an occasional creak and the rhythmic scrape of Kris’s chair rocking back and forth. Storm watched Kris open his mouth before shutting it again and pressing his lips tightly together. He did this several times until he lifted his hand toward his mouth.
“Don’t,” Corey commanded. “Stop mangling your fingernail. It’s a sign of our failures.” Corey’s whole body seemed to wither in defeat. With a grace that belied the sorrow radiating off of him, Corey stood and started toward the door. “I guess I’ll go pack up my stuff.”
“Corey, don’t leave me again.” Kris lurched to his feet.
“Why should I stay?” Corey asked. The man rested his hand on the doorframe and looked back over his shoulder.
Kris swayed, and Storm could almost physically see the pressures weighing the man down. Storm slid to the edge of the sofa cushion and leaned forward.
“Tell him what you want, Kris,” Storm urged.
“I’m not stupid, Corey.”
“I never said you were. Where did that come from?” Corey turned toward Kris and took a step forward. Now that the men stood together, Storm saw Kris was a couple of inches taller. The fine lines next to his eyes said he was also a little older.
“Kris, you need to tell him what’s in your heart and what you need.” Storm longed to go over and hold them. But they both needed to individually state their needs before Storm took over and made them a unit.
The dark-haired, stressed-out man held his fisted hands in front of him. Storm watched Corey move to Kris and lightly wrap his bandaged hands around those clenched fists.
“Tell me, love. I will do whatever you want.”
When Corey called Kris love, Storm saw the tension leave Kris’s body. In response, Corey stood straighter, and for the first time since Storm had met him, he seemed less defiant and angry.
“I want to be your love and Storm’s sugar,” Kris said. His light blue eyes were wide and glistening, begging Corey to understand.
“Are we playing with him, or are going to keep him around for a while?” Corey teased.
Kris’s laugh lit up the room. Now the two men were holding hands. “If we’re all willing, I’d like to see if we can make it work.”
“Okay,” Corey whispered. He leaned forward, and Kris met him halfway. Their lips touched in a tender kiss.
Storm went over and put his arms around them. The kiss ended, and both men looked up at him.
“Are you prepared to take both of us on, Storm?” Corey asked. “To be honest, I don’t think it will be easy. As you can see, we have issues.”
“Come. Sit down on the couch with me so we can talk,” Storm said.
Once Storm had a man settled under each arm, he began to speak. “After high school, I joined the army. My idea was to make it a career. Four years into it, I was approached and invited to enter a program to enhance my training and become a killing machine. They told me it would save many lives.” Storm snorted at the irony. “We were divided into units. The unit I was in became close. You have to, to stay in one piece and make it out alive from those pits of hell we went into and the shit we did. During a particular crappy mission, our commander put his life on the line to save our asses. He was captured and tortured. Our unit defied our superiors and went back in and got him out. The day he was well enough to use a pen we all filed our retirement papers.”
“That was Synn, wasn’t it?” Kris asked.
“Yep. Mr. Creole is one special man.” Storm became a little irritated that the awkward sling prevented him from hugging Corey tight. “Kris, reach up and open that buckle. I’m done with this thing.”
Kris did as Storm asked, and between the three of them, the sling was soon laying on the other end of the sectional, and they were snuggled close together like he wanted.
“Why do you call Synn, Mr. Creole?” Kris asked, picking up the prior conversation.
“One of the guys decided to give everyone nicknames. Synn has Creole in his heritage, and it comes out in a strong accent when he’s trying to woo a guy into his bed. We all like to tease him about it. Mr. Saint is a play on Bishop’s name,” Storm explained.
“But your name really is Storm, right?” Corey asked.
“My dad is a meteorologist and thought it was appropriate. The guys decided Storm fit and didn’t give me a different name.” Storm gave each man a little hug. “I have to warn you I’ve been told I have a stormy personality.”
Kris looked up at him and smiled. “I noticed that at the hospital. I thought I handled it okay.”
Storm returned his smile. “That you did.”
“Have you ever been with two men before?” Corey asked.
Kris’s quick intake of air had Storm kissing his cheek in comfort before answering. “I’ve always leaned toward ménages. When I was younger, I tried it a few times with a man and a woman. But I found my attention was always focused on the man in the relationship. And I had no interest in taking on two women.” Beside him, Kris shuddered, and Storm couldn’t help but kiss his cheek
again. The man was so cute. Looking a Corey, he continued, “I finally decided to see how being in a relationship with two men worked. I found I liked it, a lot.”
“I hear a but coming,” Corey said.
“But I couldn’t maintain a relationship being in the armed forces. After a mission, until we decompressed, all of us acted like we were part animal. Our senses were on alert. Anything and everything set off our emotions, especially our anger. None of us could keep anyone around for more than one night or two.” In Storm’s mind, he saw the whole unit holed up together in a motel room, drowning their romance sorrows in alcohol.
“It’s hard enough when things don’t work out with one man, but when it’s two, it really sucks,” Corey commented.
Kris’s body stiffened. “Have you been with two men, Corey?” he asked.
Corey froze, and his face took on the whole deer-in-the-headlights look. “Um, well, you see…”
“Never mind,” Kris snapped.
“We need rules,” Storm interrupted. It was time to take charge of these two.
“What kind of rules?” Kris asked.
“Things that are deal breakers for each of us. For me, I need honesty and fidelity. I will not bend on those two things,” Storm explained. He watched them turn his words over in their heads. That was good. For this to work, they all had to be on the same page.
Kris spoke first. “I agree with the honesty. That should include not holding back our wants and needs. As for the fidelity, that’s no problem.”
“But what are your rules, Kris?” Storm asked.
Kris took a deep breath before saying, “If we fight or get mad about something, no matter how much we want to, no running away. We stick it out until all of us agree that it’s not working. I need us to speak in plain words about what we want or expect from each other. No thinking we should be able to read minds and no leaving.”
Storm nodded, thinking that was fair. Looking at Corey, he saw the man’s mouth had a pinched look, and he was frowning.
Progressing with Storm [Granite County 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove) Page 6