End Game

by Samantha Wayland

  During the long awkward pause to follow, their visitors alternated looking at Rhian—shirtless, barefoot, hair wild with bed head—and Garrick—in pretty much the same condition except he also had hickeys all over his neck and chest. As discreetly as he could, Garrick buttoned the rest of his fly. It wasn’t much help, but it was the best he could do. Maybe they’d think the hickeys were birth marks?

  Rhian waved their visitors into the kitchen. “Hey, Chance. Lachlan. Come on in.”

  They each shook Garrick’s hand, clarifying who was who on their way past.

  “Coffee?” Rhian asked, reaching for more mugs.

  Garrick stood to the side and watched Rhian act the polite host, as if he lived there. He seemed comfortable in the role. With these men. The Rhian Garrick had known back in Moncton had never once invited anyone to his apartment. Hadn’t had friends, even, until Garrick had forced his way in. This man, the one getting out cream and milk and sugar, joking with Savannah’s brothers and laughing at their banter, was a goddamn revelation.

  Garrick wanted to run down the hall, throw himself on Savannah and positively hug the stuffing out of her. She’d already done so much. Brought Rhian so far.

  Garrick joined the conversation, listening more than adding anything, and watched the brothers. He remained on the opposite end of the kitchen from Rhian, enjoying how three heads swiveled as they looked between them. Garrick wasn’t sure, but Chance, in particular, seemed to be piecing things together pretty quickly. Quicker than Savannah might like.

  Fortunately, other than the occasional raised eyebrow, no one seemed upset. Definitely not mad. Possibly they were a little confused.

  And hell, who in this house wasn’t fucking confused about all this?

  Christ, he needed Savannah out here. Was she ready for her brothers to have a clue about what was really going on? That was not something Garrick was willing to guess about.

  He was about to retrieve her from the bedroom when she breezed into the kitchen, fully clothed, her hair neatly tied up. She looked like she’d been up for hours.

  He shot her a dirty look and she winked back.

  “Boys! What are you all doing here at this hour?”

  Lachlan took a deliberate look at his watch. “What hour? It’s nine o’clock in the morning. Why aren’t you at work?”

  She shrugged. “I’m working from home this week. I wanted to spend time with—at home.”

  Their guests might have missed the hesitation and the way her gaze darted to him in panic, but Garrick hadn’t. And from Rhian’s suddenly downcast eyes, he hadn’t either.

  Fuck.

  Savannah took the mug Rhian held out. He never looked at her face. She grimaced at his profile before turning back to her brothers. “What are you doing here if you thought I’d be at work?”

  Lachlan shrugged. “I didn’t know where Rhian lived and I figured he might be here.”

  Everyone’s eyes bounced back and forth between Garrick and Rhian again. Rhian stared fixedly at the coffee maker. Savannah’s cheeks started to turn pink. Garrick fucking refused to squirm.

  Rhian turned at last. “Did you need me for something?”

  Chance circled the kitchen island and put a hand on Rhian’s arm, while Lachlan eased around the other way to stand behind them.

  The hairs on the back of Garrick’s neck stood on end. Why the hell were they blocking him in?

  Chance’s grip on Rhian’s arm tightened. “I have some information,” Chance began. “About your biological family. And the girl who’s been following you.”

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Rhian swallowed past the bile scorching his throat. No one moved, all eyes glued to him.

  Why had this ever seemed like a good idea?

  Then he pictured the girl in Harvard Square and her shockingly familiar smile.

  “Tell me.”

  “Let’s sit down,” Kieran suggested, leading the way to the living room.

  Rhian tried like hell to appear calm as he staggered on wooden legs to the couch, practically falling into it. Chance and Kieran slid the coffee table back where it belonged and sat down in front of him. Savannah sat next to him and took his hand, then Garrick shoved them both over to take up a position on the other side.

  Rhian looked up at Lachlan hovering behind Kieran. “What are you doing here, Lach?”

  “I came to make sure you’re all right.”

  Rhian’s stomach heaved, barely choking out a “thank you” to Lachlan for being here in case he flipped his lid. Again.

  Nothing like an entire family knowing you had issues.

  Almost as bizarre was his reaction to their obvious concern—warmth. Drawing on their support, he focused on Chance. “Okay. Tell me.”

  “Your biological mother is Diane Lynch. She lives here in Boston.”

  Rhian sat perfectly still as he absorbed this information. He told himself to breathe. It almost worked.

  “Okay, I more or less knew that,” he said slowly. He braced for the other shoe to drop, but no one spoke. “And?”

  Kieran put a hand on Rhian’s knee. “She’s from old Boston money. Big money. And politics. Her father was good friends with some of the more notorious Kennedys.”

  “Notorious?”

  “The president,” Kieran supplied. “And his brothers.”

  Rhian blinked. “Holy crap.” What the fuck else was he supposed to say to that?

  “There’s more,” Chance said. “She lives a few blocks from here, grew up on Beacon Hill.” He gestured, presumably to indicate the very townhouse they sat in, perched as it was near the top of said hill.

  Rhian’s coffee tried again to force its way back up. “What else?” he asked, desperate to get this over with.

  “She disappeared about twenty five years ago. Took off to parts unknown, though we now suspect that was Chicago, at least eventually. If my calculations are right, she was already pregnant with you. She was known to be a party girl, a real wild-child, and a constant source of frustration for her father. Her mother died when she was young. Her father also lives around the corner from here, not far from Diane.”

  Rhian swallowed hard. Jesus. I have a grandfather? Of course, he’d known, biologically speaking, that it was true, but that this person was around the fucking corner was somehow…frightening.

  A long silence stretched while he tried to absorb what he’d learned. He wanted to hide from it. Curl up in a ball and burrow into Garrick while wrapping Savannah in his arms.

  “What about the girl?”

  Chance sighed. “She’s your sister, Chelsea. She just turned eighteen and is a senior in high school.”

  Each new truth crashed into him like a blow to his chest. He didn’t know how much more he could take.

  “And you have a brother, James, though everyone calls him Buddy. He’s nineteen.”

  Jimmy. Rhian shuddered. “I’ve seen him, too.”

  “Yes, I showed Lachlan a picture and he said as much.”

  Lachlan’s brow creased with worry. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” Rhian said automatically. Technically, none of this way okay. He had two siblings. Or half siblings, anyway. He was fairly certain—and grateful—he and Buddy didn’t share a father.

  Then Rhian did the math. “Fuck,” he whispered. “She was pregnant with him when…when she…maybe that’s why she didn’t come back.”

  A small sound escaped Savannah. Garrick’s hand landed on his thigh and held on. Rhian didn’t dare look at either of them. He felt stupid enough for saying that out loud.

  Chance cleared his throat and Rhian was mortified to discover it wasn’t just his lovers fighting for composure. All three men before him looked somewhere between devastated and furious.

  Funny how he didn’t feel either of those emotions. Mostly, he just felt small. Like he was five years old again.

  He managed to choke out, “Anything else?”

  “Your mother doesn’t claim to have any other children. I’
ve got people searching in Chicago for your real birth certificate, but they may not find it. She could have used any name back then. If they find a Rhian—spelled either way—on the right date, they’ll let me know.”

  Rhian nodded. “Maybe I wasn’t born in a hospital.”

  “Maybe not,” Chance agreed.

  “If the girl…Chelsea, my sister…” He could barely wrap his mouth around the word. Sister. “…if she knows about me, then do the rest of them?”

  Chance shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m curious to know how Chelsea found you, actually. Your grandfather, Seamus Lynch, is a powerful philanthropist and heavily involved in children’s charities. There’s a wing in Children’s Hospital Boston named for him. He’s well known for being an active presence in his grandchildren’s lives. My guess is that Diane never told him.”

  Smaller and smaller. He wished he could disappear. He wasn’t supposed to care what that woman did, but here he was, hurting again. Stupid bitch.

  “Do you want me to contact them?” Chance asked gently.

  Rhian jerked upright. “What? No way.”

  “Rhian,” Kieran said gently, “it’s likely they don’t know. They’re your family.”

  “I have no family.”

  Nothing changed that.

  Savannah stood alone in the kitchen and rolled her shoulders for the tenth time in two minutes. With a resigned sigh, she accepted the tension in her neck and shoulders wasn’t going anywhere.

  With one eye on the living room, she went about making more coffee. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate a drop of the stuff at this point, but it gave her something to do while Garrick chatted with Kieran and Chance in the corner and Lachlan spoke softly with Rhian on the couch.

  She watched her brother, saw how he searched Rhian’s face for any reaction. Rhian still clung to the blank façade he’d been hiding behind since Chance had dropped the bomb on him.

  To someone who didn’t know him, Rhian appeared calm. But she saw his tells. His white-knuckled grip on the couch cushion. How his shoulders didn’t move when he nodded or otherwise responded to Lachlan’s quiet conversation.

  She had no idea what they were talking about. Maybe Lachlan was lecturing on epistemology again.

  Garrick glanced at Rhian, then caught her gaze. They were trying to give Rhian space, even if it killed them. Rhian had made it clear that was what he wanted when he’d untangled his hands from hers and twitched his knee from under Garrick’s grasp.

  Garrick had looked ready to pounce and force Rhian to take their comfort. She’d stalled him with a shake of her head and stood, prattling about coffee. Garrick had frowned but taken the hint.

  Maybe their love was simply more than Rhian could handle at that moment. The thought was crushing, but she tried to understand it. At least until her family was gone.

  I have no family.

  He’d looked haunted when he’d said it. She’d wanted to argue with him, but honestly, in the face of what Chance had told them, she hadn’t the heart. Rhian’s biological family sucked, and he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear lectures on how families could be built. Chosen.

  Kieran leaned around Chance and they both looked over to check on Rhian. Lachlan continued to speak, his voice calming Savannah from across the room even without being able to hear his words. Like everyone else, his complete focus was on Rhian.

  Rhian had a family. He just hadn’t realized it yet.

  Savannah contemplated the bag of coffee grounds in her hand. She probably should do more than stand there like an idiot. She focused on scooping the right amount into the filter and tried very hard to ignore the bitter sting of guilt gnawing at her.

  Her brothers had taken Rhian in as one of their own. Maybe Kieran had come to support Chance—though Savannah knew in her heart that wasn’t the case—but Lachlan had no reason to be there other than to be a friend to Rhian. But what would they think when they learned the truth?

  She had to find the guts to tell her family. They needed to know they were getting two new sons. Brothers. Not one.

  Yeah, that was going to be fun.

  She’d never before been frightened that her family would think less of her. Would question her decisions. It was nauseating.

  She wasn’t ready. She was absolutely secure in her love for Rhian. But until she was as certain Rhian would love her back—and more than that, commit to her and Garrick and not bolt—she wasn’t prepared to take the risks that came with—

  “Hey, Sis.”

  Savannah dropped the carafe back on the hot plate with a clatter and spun to face Kieran.

  He cocked his head. “What were you just thinking about?”

  She laughed and could hear the hint of hysteria. “I was wondering how much my brothers love me,” she admitted far too honestly.

  Kieran surprised her with a fierce hug.

  She took a deep breath when he released her, refusing to let her voice wobble. “What was that for?”

  “You looked like you needed it.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her eyes wandering back to the living room, “but I’m not the one who needs it most.”

  Kieran studied Rhian thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want anyone to touch him right now, let alone hug him.”

  She sighed and nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  Kieran watched her while she arranged the mugs, as if lining them up perfectly was of critical importance.

  “More than life,” Kieran said, out of the blue.

  “What?”

  “Your brothers. We love you more than life. We’d do anything for you.”

  That was nice to hear. It didn’t change the fact that her brothers weren’t known to tolerate her being with one man well.

  “I hope that’s true,” she said, sneaking another glance at Rhian.

  Suddenly Kieran was right in her face. “You doubt it?”

  “I think there are things brothers don’t want to know about their sisters.”

  His gaze narrowed on her face. “Coming out is always hard, baby sister, even when you have a family like ours.”

  “By like ours, do you mean incredibly nosey?” she asked, pleased when it didn’t come out sounding nearly as alarmed as she felt.

  Kieran’s eyebrow arched. “So sayeth the girl who used to raid my very well-hidden Playgirl stash and leave them all out of order?”

  Savannah blinked. “Wait. There was an order?”

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Garrick ground his teeth and barely resisted shoving the last of their visitors out the door. He smiled, shook hands and generally acted the good host until he thought he’d lose his damn mind. Finally, the door shut behind Lachlan.

  He didn’t give Rhian a chance to escape, hauling him into his arms right in front hall. Rhian didn’t hug him back, not moving except to jolt, once, when Savannah threw herself against his back and held onto them both.

  Garrick pressed his cheek to Rhian’s. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t. They all knew it.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Garrick asked gently.

  “Not even a little.”

  No surprise there. Garrick often had to cajole, tease, and beg information from his recalcitrant lover. This time, he left it alone.

  Rhian touched Garrick’s cheek, and Garrick pulled away to look at him. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it sure has hell wasn’t a kiss.

  If Garrick has been asked thirty seconds ago if he was in the mood, he would have said he was about the furthest thing from it, but his body lit up when Rhian’s tongue traced over his lips, begging entrance.

  He leaned back. “Are you sure?”

  Rhian wrapped a hand around the back of Garrick’s head. “Yes. Please. I need you.” His other arm curled around Savannah. “I need you both. Now.”

  Garrick exchanged a long look with Savannah.

  Their next kiss was hard. Fierce. Hands grappled at clothing. At
Savannah. They took turns kissing her. Kissed her both at once. Kissed each other.

  Garrick wasn’t sure whose hands were doing what, but his jeans came loose and fell to the floor at the same instant he shoved Rhian’s sweats to his knees. Kicking his jeans aside, Garrick knelt and took Rhian into his mouth, sucking him until his cock stood at attention, rock hard and ready.

  Savannah’s hands played over his hair, dancing across his face and under Rhian’s balls, squeezing and rolling them while Rhian helped her out of her clothes and his hips danced in reaction to their undivided attention.

  “More,” Rhian gasped. “I need more.”

  Garrick stood. “Then you’ll get it.”

  He towed Rhian to the kitchen, spun him to face the island and placed his hands on the cool marble. “Stay there.”

  Rhian nodded, his breath already coming in short, sharp pants. He leaned into the counter, his beautiful ass tilted out.

  Garrick dragged his lips and teeth along Rhian’s shoulders and ran his hands down Rhian’s back and over the perfect, firm globes of his gorgeous butt. He was determined to drive Rhian out of his mind, if that’s what he needed.

  The sound of the freezer door opening caught his attention.

  Naughty, naughty Savannah. God, how Garrick loved her.

  Rhian made his little sound, the needy sob that said without words that he was as excited as Garrick by the sight of Savannah holding the ice-cold butt plug in her hand.

  She put the plug back in the freezer and Garrick frowned until she fished a container of lube out of a drawer. Garrick chuckled. She’d once complained about his penchant for leaving the stuff stashed all over the place, certain that some guest would get a rude surprise upon discovering it. Now she was the master of tucking bottles in hidden drawers, behind utensils, every damn place they could possibly need it.

  He took the lube from her and slicked up one finger. His lips returned to Rhian’s shoulder while Savannah attacked his neck on the other side. Rhian groaned. Anticipation shook Garrick, and Rhian was in much worse condition. He trembled in their arms, his head hanging down as he took quick, deep breaths. Garrick and Savannah’s mouths met over Rhian’s spine and he captured her lips in a long kiss, their tongues tangling.