End Game

by Samantha Wayland

  He nodded, not sure what to say.

  “But I’m going to talk to Grandfather about Mom’s behavior long before I drain your bank accounts.”

  “But—”

  “I won’t tell him about you if you still don’t want me to. But I think you should reconsider.” She eyes him speculatively. “He makes pretty good family. Seems like yours is still pretty small.”

  Until he begged a certain two people’s forgiveness, his family was one, and she was standing right in front of him.

  “I’ll think about it,” he allowed. “I might consider expanding, once I get my current relations sorted out.”

  She grinned. “Does that mean you’re going to stop being a dumb-ass about your…errr…friends?”

  “What?” He choked on an embarrassing nervous laugh.

  “I don’t know what happened, and if you’ve got cause to kick their asses to the curb, you know I’ll support you, but I kind of got the impression you eighty-sixed Garrick and Savannah because I was around. And you don’t need to. I get that you love them.”

  Rhian stared long and hard at his overly perceptive sister. “That’s not the reason I did it.” He stood firm against her dubious look for all of ten seconds. “Okay, not the only reason. I pushed them away because I never figured it could be for real. Permanent. I figured someday…”

  “They’d just up and leave you with Mrs. Rosenberg?”

  Shit, when she put it like that…

  “Yeah,” he admitted.

  “So, you were going to let her win, huh?”

  “Who?”

  “Dear old mom, of course. You were going to walk away from two incredibly sexy, brilliant, kind people because she fucked with your head that badly?”

  When he just stared at her, she threw up her hands.

  “Look, not that I blame you. I don’t. What do I know? I was stuck with her and I’m sure there will be more than one boyfriend in my future who will point out that it wasn’t for the best. But come on. You smiled all the time. And the way your eyes would track them everywhere? How they were always finding reasons to touch you? Brush up against you? Hell, you three should come with a warning label and a bucket of ice water.”

  His face felt like it was going to catch fire. How the hell could he talk about this shit with his sister? She was a mostly grown woman, with an obviously active and accurate imagination, but still—she was his sister.

  Oh shit.

  Hindsight was a bitch.

  He’d been certain Savannah was rejecting him. That she was ashamed for her brothers to know about him. But what if it was just this? The basic discomfort of revealing the details of her sex life to her brothers? He’d only known his sister for a week and it was already awkward. Christ, with six nosey, intelligent, and ruthless brothers, he’d never tell anyone anything.

  At least until he was sure.

  Rhian wanted to sit his ass down on the brick sidewalk and howl at his own stupidity. Goddamn, why didn’t he tell Savannah he was in love with her?

  Chelsea put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You just figured out how fucking stupid you are, didn’t you?”

  Rhian grimaced. “How can you tell? You barely know me.”

  “Dude! We have the same face!”

  Rhian smiled. He looked at his sister and all her worldly possessions around their feet. He felt bad causing her more upheaval, but it couldn’t wait.

  “How do you feel about a trip to Connecticut?”

  She laughed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The taxi pulled up to the curve and they spent the next few minutes packing an unbelievable amount of crap into the trunk before climbing into the back seat.

  “I hope it’s okay, but we’re moving.”

  “As long as I get that nice little office room and a bed, I’m good. I love this neighborhood.”

  Rhian laughed and gave the driver the address to Savannah and Garrick’s apartment—his apartment— and checked his pocket for the key.

  He pulled it and his phone out, quickly firing off a text to Sergio.

  Boston. I definitely want to stay in Boston. Take any deal they offer.

  Three hours later, Rhian and Chelsea parked in the Morrison’s driveway in Connecticut. Rhian was dismayed to find Lachlan sitting on the porch.

  Lachlan stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “Took you goddamn long enough,” he said with what Rhian hoped was a hint of a smile. “Chelsea, why don’t you hang out here with me for a while? This porch is about the only place in this house where a cell phone works, anyway.”

  They sat together on the swing and Lachlan set them to swaying. They both looked at Rhian expectantly.

  “Go on in,” Lachlan said. “Savannah and Garrick aren’t in there, but Mom is worried sick about you.”

  Rhian nodded, wondering where they were. He needed to see them. Now.

  He barely made it through the door and closed it behind him before Mary came out of the kitchen and headed straight for him. She yanked him into a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

  He sagged against her. “I don’t know.”

  She rubbed his back and held him for a while without speaking. Then she towed him into the living room and pushed him down onto the couch. He could hear the game was on in the family room and figured that was where he could find Bruce.

  She took his hand. “I don’t know the details, but I know you saw your biological mother. And I’m assuming that’s Chelsea on the porch with Lach.”

  He nodded, not surprised she already knew some of it. Just remembering his confrontation with his mother made him cling to her tighter, his back straight as he tried to find the right words to tell her everything that had happened without actually breaking down like a baby.

  In the end, he failed.

  He managed to hold it together until he told her about his mother telling him in no uncertain terms that she’d never once looked for him. Had no regrets.

  He couldn’t remember when his head ended up on her shoulder, all he knew was that her hand felt good on his back, her steady silence its own comfort. When her hand stopped moving, he opened his eyes to find Bruce standing in the door, looking at his wife and the man weeping like an idiot all over her.

  Rhian sat up and used a sleeve to dry his face while Bruce came over and sat on the fancy coffee table in front of the couch.

  Rhian smiled. Now he knew where Savannah and her brothers got the idea coffee tables were for sitting on.

  “What’s got you worried, son?” Bruce asked.

  Rhian loved that Bruce called him that. He hoped today wasn’t the last time he’d hear it.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to be in a family. How to be a good brother. A good husband.”

  “You’re a good person, Rhian,” Mary said, as if that answered all his questions.

  “That’s all that anyone here expects of you,” Bruce added.

  “But, you don’t understand,” he began, hesitating. It wasn’t his place to tell Savannah parents, no matter how much they meant to him.

  “We do understand.” Bruce said, then grimaced. “Okay, maybe I don’t understand it entirely, but Savannah told us what’s going on.” He glanced at Mary, who nodded encouragingly, then turned his attention back to Rhian. “We only want what’s best for her. For all of you.”

  Rhian stared at Bruce. He couldn’t possibly mean…

  “Now, you better go get them,” Bruce said, standing to make room for them to rise. “I took them down to the rink. Thought it might ease their minds for a while.”

  Mary patted Rhian’s hand, then disappeared down the hallway. She returned with a Morrison hockey jersey.

  “Here,” she said, passing it to him. “They’re wearing the green tonight.”

  He took it from her and turned it over.

  SAVAGE.

  The material bunched in his fists as he swallowed past the boulder lodged in his chest.

  Mary smiled. “I just finished it a few
minutes ago. I’m probably the only one who’s glad you’re late.”

  Rhian pulled the shirt over his head and put his hand over the Morrison crest on his chest. “Thank you, Mary.”

  Bruce smiled. “Honestly, son, you might as well call her Mom. And around here, I’m Dad.”

  Rhian smiled. “Okay.”

  Chapter Forty

  Garrick and Savannah had been holding hands and skating in mindless circles for an hour. Savannah’s father had snuck them into the rink earlier, with the promise they could stay as long as they liked. Garrick wanted to keep going around in circles until the pain went away. Until they both stopped hurting. He’d become detached from reality sometime yesterday when Rhian’s eyes had gone dead, and he needed to fight his way back. Skating was familiar. Safe. Maybe, eventually, it would help.

  He was pretty sure he hadn’t made the best impression on the Morrisons. Not that he’d embarrassed himself or anything, but he wasn’t himself. They seemed to know it, too. He worried that they’d forever remember the dud Savannah dragged home one weekend and he’d have to overcome that.

  He and Savannah had hardly said a word since coming on the ice, except for Savannah’s quiet admission that she’d told her mom everything. He had figured as much once they’d come out of the office. She also said her mom was telling her father, probably now.

  Garrick was not looking forward to going back to the house. He wondered if anyone at Berkshire Academy would care of the two of them just went in circles like this all night.

  He looked down at Savannah again, the skater in him enjoying how she glided over the ice. He was a great lummox by comparison. Her green jersey was well worn, with many rips repaired and the Morrison emblem obviously having been sewn on more than once.

  He loved that he had his own jersey. He’d been touched when Mary had given it to him, then almost made a complete fool of himself when she told him Rhian had already worn it once.

  Rhian had told him about the Morrison hockey games. He couldn’t wait to be a part of it someday, but damned if he hadn’t also looked forward to it as a way to skate with Rhian again.

  He squeezed Savannah’s hand. “We’re not giving up, are we?” His voice echoed in the empty arena.

  Savannah almost smiled, still looking at the ice ahead. “Nope.”

  The sound of skates skimming across ice came from behind them. “I sure as hell hope not.”

  Garrick’s heart lodged somewhere in his throat and he spun to see Rhian gliding toward them. Savannah gripped his arm so hard, he thought she might tear the sleeve off his jersey.

  Rhian was also wearing a Morrison jersey. Garrick had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. His heart ached when he saw Rhian’s eyes were swollen and red, his eyelashes spiked with moisture.

  Rhian stopped twenty feet away and Garrick jerked forward, desperate to touch him. Hold him. Savannah’s hand held him still.

  “Are you okay?” Garrick asked.

  Rhian bit his lip and looked at Savannah. “I cried all over your mom.”

  Savannah let out a little breath. Almost a laugh. “She’s used to it.”

  “From grown men?” Rhian asked with a self-deprecating laugh.

  “Don’t tell my brothers I told you.”

  Rhian smiled again and this time it made it all the way up to his beautiful eyes. Garrick heart started beating properly for the first time since Rhian had left them.

  “We missed you, Rhian,” Garrick said.

  Rhian’s eyes searched their faces. His smile faded. “I missed you, too.”

  Garrick put his hand over Savannah’s on his arm but couldn’t tear his eyes off Rhian. “I love you. You get that, don’t you?”

  Rhian’s blue eyes locked onto his. “I love you, too.” Then he looked at Savannah. “And you. I love you, Savannah Morrison.”

  Garrick grinned, and for the first time in thirty years, nearly fell off his skates while standing perfectly still.

  Savannah grabbed Garrick when he wobbled. She laughed as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “I love you, too, Rhian. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I’ve known for a while, but I thought it might spook you.”

  Rhian lifted one shoulder. “You‘re probably right.” He glided five feet closer. Not close enough. Still out of reach. “I’m sorry I walked away.”

  It had been more like a run, but she kept that to herself. “Why did you?”

  Rhian stared down at his skates and licked his lips nervously. “I was scared. Witless, to be honest. I thought…I thought you couldn’t possibly want to keep me. Not really. And you didn’t want your brothers to know about me and—”

  “No, Rhian—”

  He looked up at her. “It’s okay, Savannah. I get it now. You can thank Chelsea for that. But it was easier for me to believe you were ashamed of me. Of us. It validated what I had always believed in my heart.”

  Savannah swallowed back her tears enough to whisper, “And what was that?”

  “That I’m not someone people want to keep around. I’m not family. And that you’d abandon me, too. Like she did. Then my stupid biological family turned up and I…”

  He paused, struggling for breath.

  “You what, Rhian?” Garrick asked quietly.

  “I remembered how much it hurt. To be left. I thought I remembered it all before, but when I saw her, it really came back. How I sat on Mrs. Rosenberg’s couch for hours, staring at the door, waiting for my mother to come get me. The terror. I was so confused. And even then I knew she was awful. So what would it be like if…well, I couldn’t bare the idea that it would hurt that much more when you left me. I didn’t think I could survive that again, only worse, you know?”

  Garrick’s grip on her hand was painful, but they both held still.

  “And now?” she asked quietly.

  “And now I know it doesn’t hurt any less to carve out your own heart than it does to have someone else do it for you.”

  Garrick made a low painful sound in his throat.

  Rhian looked lost, standing alone on the ice with naked longing in his eyes. “You two are everything I ever wanted. Every goddamn dream I ever kept hidden in my heart. Right in front of me. I don’t want to be the stupid, scared bastard who runs away. That’s not who I am anymore.”

  Savannah smiled through her tears. “Then who are you?”

  Garrick wobbled on his skates again when Rhian fell to his knee on the ice.

  “I’m the man asking you to keep me. Forever.”

  Rhian’s breath left him in a great whoosh when Garrick crashed into his chest. A big hand curled protectively around the back of his head to prevent it from slamming into the ice as Garrick and Savannah fell on top of him.

  Arms clung, legs twined. He was still trying to replace the air in his lungs when their mouths met and they were in one big, happy kiss. It was messy and ridiculous and absolutely fucking perfect.

  Rhian touched them everywhere he could reach. He sank his fingers into their hair, brushed their cheeks, wrapped his arms around their waists and held on for dear life. His ass and back were numb from the ice, his cock as hard as a rock anyway, before they climbed to their feet. They couldn’t seem to go a foot closer to the bench without touching. Kissing. Saying, “I love you.”

  They practically fell off the ice, barely sitting long enough to tear off skates and yank on street shoes. They ran along the path back to the house at full speed and burst through the kitchen door.

  Mary yelped with surprise, then laughed and turned to Chelsea. “I told you it was going to work out.”

  Chelsea threw her arms around Rhian’s neck and planted a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek. “I’m staying here. I already got my bags from the car and Mary is promising to let me bake her some cookies.” She stepped back and eyed his disheveled appearance. “For god’s sake, go away before I have to get that ice bucket. Sheesh.”

  He grinned, unrepentant. “Come on,” he said, grabbing his lovers’ hands. “I
hear we have a room at the inn.”

  Savannah and Garrick both turned pink, murmuring apologies to parents and siblings alike as Rhian unceremoniously dragged them through the house and shoved them into his rental car.

  “We’ll see you in the morning,” Savannah called out the window as he backed out of the driveway.

  “Yeah, right!” Chelsea shot back from the porch.

  Savannah’s mother grinned and flung her arm around Chelsea’s shoulders. His sister looked like another Morrison already. Rhian laughed as he tore down the street toward the inn.

  He broke a minimum of seven traffic laws in the quarter-mile drive. At least he could blame the crappy parking job on Garrick. It wasn’t nice to grope a man’s junk when he was trying to concentrate on driving.

  If anyone at the inn thought it was strange that they bolted up the stairs in a knot of clutched hands and laughter, he was too happy and too focused on his lovers to notice or care.

  He fell onto the bed and pulled Garrick and Savannah down on top of him. Clothes flew in all directions, laughter liberally sprinkled between squeals and grunts as they rolled across the bed.

  Savannah fell onto her back and dragged him over her with two fists in his hair. Her legs came up, and he sighed as he slid into her to the hilt. He had barely settled there, his control tenuous at best, when Garrick’s big hands spread his knees, bent him in half above her, and thrust a thick, heavily lubricated finger deep into his ass.

  Rhian writhed and shouted his encouragement. Garrick stretched him open with a second finger. Then the heavy press of his thick shaft as he sank as deep as he could get into Rhian’s ass.

  Rhian laughed, kissing Savannah’s cheeks. Her eyebrows. Her swollen, red lips.

  He’d done the unimaginable.

  He’d found his home.

  Epilogue

  Rhian sat at their kitchen island, trying to keep calm while he listened to the clock tick. Garrick and Savannah sat across from him, keeping a close eye on him as he fidgeted with his phone. His leg bounced maniacally on the rung of the stool.

  Savannah smiled. “It will be fine, Rhian.”