21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (39 page)

Jazz’s mouth tightened. “It’s not that simple.”
Logan definitely made me feel attractive last night
. Her body warmed at the memory, the feeling of his hands caressing her, teasing her nipples, stroking her sides, and the hard intensity in his eyes when he slid his cock inside her. She shifted against the chair, a little mortified at the tension coiling through her. She wanted him right now. She wanted to feel him thrusting inside of her while she kissed Zach.

Damn it. She ordered her body to stand down, but her brain continued its decadent assault of images.

“It may not be simple. I’m not a Marine. I don’t know what it takes to go through what you’ve been through. But I can try to draw parallels to understand better, and I’m really good at listening.”

Jazz turned her head to the right and looked at her roommate. Her hair was hidden beneath a towel and her face was the color of lime with speckles of dirt sprinkled on top. She didn’t look remotely glamorous, yet she still appeared utterly feminine. “It’s not about being a Marine. It’s not even about the IED. It’s about them and me loving both of them. It’s about not being able to choose between them and wondering if I’m making more out of this than there is.”

“How so?” Lauren sat up, ignoring the whole kick back and relax atmosphere and sat sideways in the chair.

“What if it’s a fling? What if I should stop worrying about who to pick and just enjoy it while it lasts?” She hated how self-involved that sounded, but they’d never talked about what came next. They chatted about Mike’s Place, the theatre, her assignment, Zach’s sport teams, Logan’s plans to finish his certification as a physical therapist. They talked about their individual goals and accomplishments. They never talked about the three of them.

“Would it bother you if it was only a fling?” Uncaring of her face mask, Lauren propped her chin into her hand while her elbow rested on one raised knee.

“I….” She thought hard about the answer to that. The sinking feeling in her gut screamed that yes that was a problem. But if she didn’t see herself with two men long-term, why wouldn’t it be an issue for then as well? “Realistically….”

“No. Not realistically. In your heart, does it bother you? Your face fell when I asked that question. So would it bother you?”

Jazz wanted to look away from her, but the woman had presence. She demanded attention. It probably explained her success as an actress, not that she’d seen any of her films. But more than that, she wanted to answer the question. “Yeah. It would bother me. As selfish as it sounds, I don’t want to be only a fling. They’re—they’re amazing, sexy, sweet, honorable men. They make me laugh. They make me want to be more. They make me want more.”

“So what’s the problem?” The words echoed James’ question from every single session so clearly that she could almost hear his more masculine tone overlaying Lauren’s sweeter voice.

“Realism. A long-term relationship requires equal time, equal respect, and equality. It’s hard to be equal when there’s three…and who gets married? Who gets to be dad? If I get pregnant and it’s Zach’s—won’t Logan feel left out? What if it’s Logan’s? Legally, I can’t marry two men and hell, I don’t even know if I want to get married or have kids.”

She hated this weak, wishy-washy shit. She needed to make a fucking decision and live with it. But every time she thought about making a choice, her stomachache came back and her head began to pound. She’d break out into a cold sweat. She didn’t want to lose either man. She didn’t want to come between them.

“I can’t say I understand, because for me it’s James. I don’t want any other guy. Ever. I’ve seen open relationships that worked. Hollywood is full of them. I know this one couple who are amazing parents, amazingly in love and he has lovers—male lovers—but lovers. She doesn’t mind. Because they committed to something between them and they’re happy. I know other couples that lie all day long about how happy they are and go home to ignore each other. We paint a picture of what a romance is supposed to look like, and then we put them under a microscope and judge them if they don’t conform to that picture. But life isn’t a painting. It’s messy and dirty and filled with warts. No one can tell you that a long-term relationship with those guys isn’t a possibility except them and you. Have you talked to them about it?”

Jazz stared at her. If the actress sprouted two heads and four arms, she wouldn’t have been remotely surprised. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m even considering it?”

“Honey, I’m not the one who has to sleep with them, and what you do in the privacy of your home can’t possibly affect what I do in the privacy of mine. So why should it? If they want you and you want them—then go for it.”

A light knock announced their specialist returning, and Jazz twisted to point at the woman. “We need a few more minutes.”

“Um…the masks need to come off.”

Lauren joined her in sending the woman away. “Our pores can use a little more tightening. Shoo.” The technician shook her head, but retreated, and closed the door behind her. “Jasmine, have you talked to them?”

“No. I tried to—no—I didn’t try hard enough. Because I’m not sure I want the answer.” The confession cost her. She didn’t know Lauren well enough to share those kinds of details, but the woman inspired a trust she hadn’t experienced outside of her fellow Marines.

“Then talk to them. Don’t mince your words. Lay your cards on the table. You’re killing yourself because you want something you think you can’t—or shouldn’t—have. That’s a pointless exercise.”

“And if I don’t like the answer, well that sucks balls, but at least I’ll have it.”
Boots up, Marine
.

“You know, there’s the very real possibility that it can work. Those two are close, closer than brothers. They do everything together. They respect each other. They support each other. James told me that without Zach, Logan wouldn’t have survived what he went through. From what I’ve seen, if Logan hadn’t survived—neither would Zach. So remember that. Now. This mask is itching.”

“Yeah…. Lauren?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” She didn’t have to try and inject gratitude or sentiment into those two words.

“You’re very welcome. Would it be rude to ask for details at some point? You know, purely for research?”

Jazz laughed and the bruising ache in her soul eased. She would talk to them.

She would talk to them both tonight.

***

“Everything ready?” Logan stood in the doorway fumbling with his tie while Zach polished his shoes.

“Damon gave us the green light. He’s got the private room set up. We’ll be serving ourselves so we don’t have any interruptions, and I have the keys to his apartment if we decide to scoot out his secret back door.”

Logan nodded slowly. “James called. Lauren will drop her off at the restaurant in a couple of hours. They had to stop for shoes. He promised me that she swore she wasn’t shopping for herself.”

They’d debated setting up a hotel room, like their night in Vegas, but as much as they wanted to recapture that night—they wanted to set the stage for something bigger. Damon’s restaurant, Lagniappe’s, offered the best compromise. Private dining area, romantic setting, secret escape route, and a fully stocked bedroom for ménage shenanigans should they choose to indulge.

Zach planned a great deal of indulgence. They also had the restaurant to themselves. So if they got frisky in the private area, no one would be listening or looking. He was surprised the chef offered to shut the place down for them, but like the rest of their Marines, everyone was on board with helping Jazz—and them.

Good men. Every single one of them.

“You have your ring?” Zach checked his pocket for the service ring he’d stowed away in there.

Logan tapped his chest. “It’s with the dog tags. I got yours and attached one on there, too.”

“Good.” The plan would take some coordination. Good food, beer, although water for her since her meds didn’t allow for alcohol yet, music, dancing, and enough sex to put her fears to rest.

“She could say no.” Trust his best friend to bring up the only real downside to the plan. If she really wanted out of this relationship, all she had to do was shut them down.

“She won’t.” He said it with a hell of a lot more confidence than he felt. “We’re not going to let her.”

“Power of positive thinking?” Tie secure, Logan walked over to borrow a brush and added a little polish to his own wingtips. They hated the suits, but they were perfect for the romantic atmosphere the two spent the day arranging. Dress blues would be better, but they were making a civilian proposal. So, civilian uniforms it was.

“Power of positive planning. She has objections. We take care of them. She has fears. We comfort them. She has needs. We meet them. She belongs to us. We have to remind her of that fact.”

“The next time I give you shit about being little Miss Mary Sunshine, remind me of this moment.” Logan held out his hand. “May the best men win.”

“We are the few and the proud. That definitely makes us the best.” Zach shook his hand. “And don’t worry, I will definitely remind your sourpuss about all the times I’ve been right.”

Instead of taking her back to Mike’s Place, Lauren pulled up in front of a restaurant called Lagniappes. A sign announcing ‘Closed for Business’ filled the upper half of the glass door. “I don’t think your stardom is going to be enough to get us through a line that doesn’t exist.”

The ninety-minute shoe odyssey to find a pair of black, peep-toe flats to show off her pedicure, and the insistence on a dress seemed based on an ulterior motive. So did the colorful scarf Lauren produced to replace her baseball cap. She enjoyed the woman’s direct-indirectness, however, so she didn’t argue. It was time to go home and she wanted to see the guys. Resolute to confront this issue head on, it made more sense to strike while the iron was hot.

“Alas, you are correct.” Lauren ruined her dramatic sigh and pause for effect by giggling. “It’s your stardom that matters here. Ah, here come your escorts now.”

The air whooshed out of her lungs as Zach and Logan stepped out of the restaurant. They were dressed identically in button down suits, ties, and slacks right down to the color. The dress blue shade matched their ties and created a stark contrast to the white shirts beneath.

“Have a great time tonight. I don’t expect to hear from you before the weekend, but I want all the details.” Lauren’s bubbling enthusiasm must be contagious, because excitement churned in Jazz’s stomach.

“Thanks for today.” She spared the woman a last glance before Zach caught the door and pulled it wide. Logan extended a hand, and she let him help her out. “Oh, I should get the wheelchair.”

“No need, I can drop it off!” Lauren waved and pulled away as soon as Zach closed the door.

The warm evening air ruffled her neck. The scarf tickled her skin, but the sensation didn’t match the sight of these two men, so different in coloring and stance, yet so very alike standing in front of her.

“Hey.”

Zach hadn’t expected the donkey kick to his midsection when he opened the door. Logan’s relaxed air didn’t seem to invade his own rattled nerves or pounding heart. But as Logan took her hand and helped her to stand, the uncertainty washed away in a torrent of lust, affection, and respect. The fear churning in his gut since Brody’s phone call, exacerbated by the sight of her fragile, pale features as her Navy escort wheeled her down the concourse, settled.

The long road to full recovery still stretched out in front of them, but light sparkled in her brown eyes. A smile flirted with her lips. Her red dress with its forties square top, tied behind her neck, cupped her breasts beautifully and emphasized the slender column of her neck. She’d lost some muscle tone, but it left her with softer, almost lusher curves.

He didn’t know squat about fashion, but she looked good. Red was definitely her color. Logan leaned down and slanted his mouth across hers for a kiss. The seconds ticked by and her hand bunched around his lapel. The soft sigh she released as he stepped back, went straight to Zach’s cock.

“My turn.” He grinned and Logan edged aside as Zach carefully cupped her face in his hands and teased her with a light kiss. If he went any deeper with full public display lewdness, he was in real danger of blowing their plan. Her lips parted beneath his, but he didn’t press the advantage, enjoying the taste of mint and lemon that lingered on her breath. Heat flushed his skin, and she seemed brighter when he lifted his head. “Hey.”

“Wow.” Her laughter stoked his passion even as it relaxed the steel bands compressing his chest. “Hi.”

“We’re glad you could join us.” Logan tucked her hand on the crook of his arm, and Zach mirrored the gesture. They walked her to the door, measuring their steps as if they’d practiced to match her uneven gait. Logan let her go long enough to open the door, and Zach guided her through. Logan turned the lock behind them and adjusted the door’s curtains to shield them from prying eyes. Inside the shadowy restaurant, they strolled up a pathway to the private dining area illuminated by candles on either side.

The chef had outdone himself. The private dining room boasted a round table, plush chairs, and enough food to make Zach’s mouth water. When Jazz’s stomach growled audibly, he didn’t bother to disguise his laughter.

“You like?” he asked edging around them to pull out a chair. She’d done great on her walk. Strength and confidence returning with every step, but they didn’t want to overdo it. No, they had plans for this evening, and they did not include exhausting her.

Not yet, anyway.

“It’s—wow—that’s a lot of food.” In addition to the steaks, there was lobster tail, gumbo, shrimp, heaping platters of steamed vegetables, red-roasted potatoes, and warm bread. Her stomach rumbled again, and she flattened her hand against it. “Excuse me.”

“No excuses needed. Would you allow us the honor of serving you this evening?” The increase in her appetite was a great sign. Zach watched Logan in those first few weeks after his surgeries. When he started getting hungry again, it meant he’d turned a corner. He only hoped the same spoke true for Jazz.