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Authors: Em Petrova

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BOOK: Fevered Hearts
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“And Ward makes you see this?” It was impossible not to feel the jab of hurt that she hadn’t spurred this thought process in her husband. They’d made vows for better or worse, after all.

She dropped her gaze to her hands twisting in her lap. Still nude and bearing the brush burn from both men’s mouths, with Ward’s come leaking down her folds, she felt horribly exposed, maybe even fooled into something.

Liam twisted her hair in his fist, providing that sting that had made her listen to him, had grounded her so many times before. Unable to resist, she looked to him.

“Baby, for a long time, I’ve wanted to give you the husband you married. But I couldn’t see through the fog of self-pity and pain. We fell into a routine after the accident, and Ward shook me up, reminded me of the man I used to be. Can be again. I want to make you happy. You’re my world, Ivy.”

“But Ward was your world before me.”

“I’m not doing this because of Liam, sweetheart.” Ward’s mouth tickled her ear. He licked the shell, following it down to bat at her lobe. Gooseflesh rose all over her body, and her traitorous nipples stood erect. “I want you for you, Ivy.”

“And I want him to have you until I can make this broken body work right again,” Liam added.

Ward slipped an arm around her, bearing her back onto the mattress once more. Liam plucked at her nipples until she wriggled, and this time, it was Ward who kissed her until she couldn’t see straight—couldn’t tell whose hands were whose or where one body ended and hers began.

As she lost herself to the extreme pleasure she’d craved for many months, one small question niggled in the back of her mind.
When Liam is whole, what happens to this—to the three of us?
She feared they’d all end up more broken than whole.

Sweat dripped from Liam’s hairline and splashed down his cheek. Another tracked into the corner of his eye, making him squint against the burn.

“That’s it. Just one more set of ten,” John, the physical therapist, encouraged. He was a big man, fit and good-looking. But he did nothing for Liam’s libido, unlike Ward.

Fuck, Liam could barely concentrate on his therapy with visions of Ward moving over Ivy, of his shaft disappearing into her sweet body. Watching Ward fuck his wife had been the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed. Somehow, it was as if he were truly participating. Knowing both Ivy’s and Ward’s bodies and preferences as he did gave Liam a strong feeling that he was the one giving and receiving pleasure.

“Nine…ten.” John grinned and helped Liam remove his foot from the equipment that would strengthen his disused muscles.

His leg muscles trembled, and frustration loomed inside Liam. “When will I be able to do more?”

John laughed. “In time. These muscles haven’t been used in quite a while. I’m surprised you could get ten reps with each leg.”

“But I only moved the bar a couple of inches.”

“Remember that before you came in here, you couldn’t move it at all.”

Liam pressed his lips into a seam. John was right, of course. But he wanted to get up and walk the hell out of here.

For Ivy and Ward.

Except he still didn’t know where he stood with Ward. He’d hurt the man. Could something like that ever be forgiven? If he’d walked out on Ivy, could she have accepted his return to her life?

Realization slammed him like a hundred-foot oak striking the earth.

He
had
left her, if not in body, then in spirit. He clamped his mouth on the cry that wanted to force its way out. What if she couldn’t forgive and turned to the man Liam had just pushed her toward?

Liam’s father appeared on the other side of the half wall separating the therapy area from the waiting room.

“He’s just finished up,” John told him.

Liam shook himself from his dark thoughts. Whether or not he’d made a mistake in giving Ivy to Ward, he had achieved what he’d set out to do—pleasure his wife. In the meantime, something else was breaking free of the mental lockdown that had occurred at the time of the accident. He was experiencing more sensation and small twitches in his cock.

After shaking hands with John, Liam swung his body off the padded table and lowered himself into his wheelchair.

“Same time Wednesday, Liam.”

“Thanks, I’ll be here.” As he rolled to meet his father, he couldn’t shake the intense burn of worry. The two people he’d hurt might grow close—without him.

He had to get better. Only when he could show Ivy and Ward that they meant enough to work hard for would he be able to really apologize and devote his life to them again.

He wagged his head like a dog with its nose in a beehive. Damn, sometime during that one long, pleasurable night, Liam had decided he wanted Ward back in his life, along with his wife.
How the hell am I gonna manage that?

As his dad drove him toward the Mattson Hardwoods office again, Liam revisited the past year with Ivy and the final months he’d spent loving Ward.

“Hard therapy?” his dad asked.

“What? Oh, yeah, a little.”

“Do you need to go home and rest?”

Liam was tired but admitting it would mean he didn’t possess the strength he needed to carry this new load he’d taken on. In a week, he’d gone from sitting at home, brooding, to running the family business and a partnership with Ward, building his body up again and gripping the controls of his sex life and marriage.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get an energy drink out of the machine.”

“Saw Bose this morning.”

“Ward?” Liam’s heart tripped a little at the name.

“No, his father. He was at the diner. I woulda bought him breakfast, but the man could only manage coffee. Lookin’ bad.”

“I heard he has cancer. I’m sorry to hear he isn’t holding up well.” Ward hadn’t been close to his dad in the time he and Liam lived out west. Some words had been said over Ward’s leaving that had driven them apart. Had they made amends? Life was short, Liam knew firsthand.

His father fell silent for the rest of the drive. They passed the courthouse. The solid red brick structure housed his wife. She was inside, helping to uphold the law.

And wearing the hottest fucking little skirt.

That morning Liam had watched her dress with a hunger he hadn’t known in months. Seeing her legs wrapped around Ward had given him a deep ache of want. As he’d watched her run her hands all over her shapely legs, applying moisturizer, Liam thanked the higher powers that he hadn’t lost her long before now.

He glared at the windows of the second floor where the courtrooms were located. Were there men in there who stared at her gorgeous face and body and wanted her? Did they make advances?

Why hadn’t he thought about it before today?

Deep down, he recognized how fucked up it was that he was willing to share her with Ward but the mere idea of another man looking at Ivy made Liam’s blood boil.

As his father guided the vehicle into the office parking lot, Liam almost choked—more of those damn fliers littered every truck and piece of logging equipment Mattson Hardwoods owned.

“Jesus, not again,” his dad muttered.

Liam gripped the door, ready to jump out and run around the lot, removing the activists’ handiwork. “You don’t look a bit surprised, Dad.”

“I’m not. It’s been going on for a while.”

Guilt pervaded Liam. Apparently he’d been failing his father for some time too. Reaching out, Liam placed his hand on his dad’s, which was white-knuckled on the gear shift. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll get the activists off our asses and make everything right again.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on his dad’s rugged face. “I expect no less from a Mattson.”

Pride welled inside Liam, rapidly replacing the guilt.
That’s right. I’m a Mattson and I get what I want.

Right now, he wanted to fix his broken company, restore his marriage…and he wanted Ward.

Ivy flitted between kitchen and living room, tidying things that weren’t even out of place. After her night with Ward and her husband, she couldn’t keep her mind centered on any one thing.

Liam watched her pick up several knickknacks and pretend to dust them. When he rolled up beside her and gripped her forearm, she looked at him.

Something warm and new spread through her. This was her husband—the old Liam she’d loved for years. But there was a change in him. She liked it.

He tugged her until she sat across his lap, legs dangling. She drew a deep breath of his familiar scent and relaxed a fraction.

“What’s going on? Talk to me.”

She had no idea where to start. “I guess it’s all so different from the past year.”

His lips moved over her hair. “Is that a good thing?”

She pulled back and stared at his handsome face. “Yes!” A smile creased his eyes, giving her a heart flip. She brushed her fingers over his five o’clock shadow.

“You’re okay with what happened between us all?”

Heat burned in her face. She burrowed against his big shoulder. “Yes.” Her voice was small.

“And you’re okay with me working?”

Stronger now: “Yes.”

“So you’ll be okay with me going to therapy.”

She jerked upright, excitement stealing her words. She cupped his face and planted a kiss on him. For a year she’d begged him to do these things—to go on living. Were these changes because of Ward? It didn’t matter. As long as Liam was taking strides to a better life. Even if he never walked again, he’d tried.

As she swirled her tongue over her husband’s, her heart sang with joy. Whatever happened, they would face it together.

Chapter Five

The hum of the chainsaw vibrated to the core of Ward’s being—jarring his arms, chest and even his eardrums. The sweet weight of a saw felt good right now. It grounded him, an all too welcome sensation after the night he’d spent loving Ivy.

He couldn’t get the feel of her body wrapped around him out of his mind. The silken touch of her breasts against his chest, her arms and legs gliding on his flesh. Even the slippery walls of her pussy tightly squeezing, releasing, squeezing.

With a grunt, he set the chainsaw bar against the log and ripped through it like a hot knife through butter. In front of him, his faller sent a massive maple crashing to earth—music to his ears. The sound of that tree hitting meant money, stability for his faller, income for the guys who operated the equipment used to haul the logs out.

And Ward would have another tree to cut into lengths, which meant he’d have a few minutes’ reprieve from thinking about Ivy and Liam.

Planting a boot on the thick log he was cutting, he shifted the wood to rip through the splinter holding it together. It rolled apart, and the sawdust settled over his leg and boot.

With a grin, he knuckled away the sweat dripping from beneath his hard hat into his eyes.

His faller, Jacobs, shut down his saw and came toward Ward, stepping over brush with practiced ease.

“Hey, Ward. Let’s break for lunch.”

Ward glanced around the clearing. His other crew members had knocked off and were leaning against the equipment and seated on the ground, eating.

After slipping off his hat, Ward set it down along with his saw. “Yeah, I could use a bite.”

As he said this, he realized he had no appetite for the thick roast beef sandwiches he’d packed himself before dawn. He only hungered for another night in Ivy and Liam’s bed.

The heat of that moment when he’d poured his come into Ivy’s tight body while looking into Liam’s eyes had altered Ward. There was no going back now—he wanted the little whiskey-haired vixen and the man Ward had once loved more than his life.

The first stirrings of arousal were inappropriate for the field and Ward tamped down on his need. But the fever was raging out of control—a wildfire consuming everything in him. Soon he’d be reduced to ash, but he didn’t care if it meant he had one more night with them.

He grabbed his small cooler from the truck and took a seat on a log with his faller. After draining a bottle of water in a few swallows, he felt as if his fires had been doused a bit.

“Is it true you’re partnering with Mattson?” Jacobs ripped off a bite of a sandwich. The man had been with Bose Timber Company for a few years and as far as Ward could see, was a hard worker. His dedication to bringing down the trees safely and swiftly was exactly what Ward liked.

Cradling his sandwich without taking a bite, Ward battled the new leap in his cock at the mention of Liam’s name.

“Yeah, we’ve both had some trouble lately. Together, we can do better business.”

Jacobs stared at his food. “I felt bad about wiping out that hillside, Ward.”

“I know. Not your fault. You were just taking orders. We’ve got people coming this week to start the replanting, and we’re not using saplings either. I decided to use bigger growth so the trees will reach maturity faster.”

“Is it true Mattson is sitting on a half-million dollar deal?”

Ward fell still. He and Liam had just begun to delve into the contracts between both companies. Bose Timber had three deals on the table, but nothing as big as that. He released the breath he was holding.

“Mattson and I are still discussing everything.”

Including the not-so-little question of how to deal with the heartstrings, which were all tangled up in one big knot between him, Ivy and Liam.

“Well, I’d like to sink my saw blade into that deal,” Jacobs said. “With that kind of money on the line, your workers would be pretty damn important.”

Ward burst out laughing at the hint. He clapped Jacobs on the back. “Man, if I see that deal cross my desk, I promise the next thing I’ll do is sign a bigger paycheck for you.”

His phone vibrated in his back pocket. Shifting his ass on the log, Ward pulled it free and stared at the screen.

Come over ASAP. Death threats.

Gooseflesh rippled over Ward’s body. He dropped his sandwich into his cooler and jumped to his feet. “Gotta go. There’s trouble. Richardson, take my place. You’re bucker for the rest of the day.”

“Gotcha, boss.”

As fast as his strides would carry him, Ward crossed the clearing to his truck. The front tire was low on air. He’d noticed it early this morning but now he hoped it got him there without blowing out. With a growl, he kicked the tire. It would get him there. It would have to.

By now, he should’ve known better than to wait. He’d lost time with his father, and with Liam. He still didn’t know where he stood with the man. Ivy was another gear tossed into the deconstructed engine of his mind. How did they all fit together when she’d taken vows to Liam, not him?

Spinning up dust, Ward tore out of the clearing and bumped down the rutted logging road as fast as he could without popping the tire. He punched Liam’s number.

“Mattson.”

“What the hell’s going on?”

“The activists were back. This time their fliers were different.”

“What the fuck did they say?”

Liam huffed out a sigh, and Ward shivered at the sound. “They said, ‘Tree killers deserve the same treatment.’”

“Fuck.” He careened around a bend and hit the paved road with a quick glance to see if anything was coming. But no one traveled these roads, so he stomped on the gas and tore off toward Mattson Hardwoods.

“There’s something else, Ward.” Liam’s voice held a choked sound, as if he tried to speak around splinters.

Again all the hair on Ward’s body stood up. Was Liam going to tell him that his night with Ivy was a mistake—that he hated Ward for it?

“They’ve threatened my wife.”

Ward’s stomach bottomed out and his bowels turned to water. Rage bubbled up instantly, replacing the shock. “What?” he roared into the phone. He slammed the gas pedal to the floor and hit eighty miles per hour in seconds.

“They slipped a flier under the office door, and at the bottom, someone had scribbled ‘Tree killer’s wife is first on our list.’”

The phone almost slipped from Ward’s sweaty hand. He squeezed it hard, locking it painfully to his ear, unsure he’d really heard Liam correctly. “Don’t touch the paper, Liam. We have to take it to the police.”

“They’ve already been here and taken it as evidence. Ward, I can’t…” Liam struggled, breathing raggedly into his ear. Was he crying? “I can’t…protect her while in this goddamn chair.”

“I’m there. I’ll take care of her.”

Take care of you both.

Ivy stood before the small mirror in the courthouse restroom, staring at her greenish complexion. Sure, it was the lights causing her sickened look, but she felt that way deep down.

That fucker had touched her leg while court was in session. Under the big table, the bailiff had placed a hand on her thigh and
stroked
it.

She shuddered. Turning from the mirror, she struggled with the decision of how to handle this situation. She’d worked with Tony Martinez for years and while he might stare too long at her or stand too close while talking, he’d never blatantly touched her in a sexual manner. It was harassment—an unwelcome, disgusting twist to her day. And it made her job frightening.

Court would resume in five minutes. How could she get up the nerve to go back into that cavernous, walnut-paneled space and take her seat beside the man?

Liam would kill him.

Ward would kill him.

Where did that come from?
Ward wasn’t hers the way Liam was. He was just a man who’d fucked her.

Even as she thought this, she knew it was far from the truth. The things she’d felt while Ward was moving over her, within her, were far from cold. But he may not feel the same, and Liam might not want them to feel more than lust.

She paced before the big double doors leading to the courtroom. Her heels clacked on the tile. Suddenly, the clothes she wore—pencil skirt, heels and button-down blouse—felt slutty. Had she provoked Tony in some way?

No, she’d never invited the man to touch her. Clothes she wore had nothing to do with it. Even if she wore fishnets and a see-through teddy, it wouldn’t matter. No was no.

Drawing a deep breath of the paper-scented air, she pushed through the doors. The courtroom audience faced her. Did they detect her discomposure, see the blush she felt scorching her cheeks and all the way up to her hairline?

Tony sat ramrod straight in his chair. She fought the urge to glare at the back of his head. His hair was neat and his suit pristine. He was an ex-cop, so he filled out the navy suit well. But she didn’t want this man touching her. Ever.

Before she took her seat, she gripped the back of the chair and moved it a few more inches away from Tony. He looked up, a smile on his face, eyes darkening as she slipped into her seat.

“Good break?” he asked in a hushed whisper that didn’t carry.

“Fine.” Usually they were friendly enough. Working closely had raised a friendship between them. Had she given vibes that she may want more?

No, this wasn’t her fault. But who could she tell about it? If she spoke with anyone here at work, she’d be sitting in the equivalent to the witness box, testifying against the man who’d sexually harassed her. And she sure as hell couldn’t tell Liam.

Restlessly, she shuffled the papers for the case before them. They were only halfway through the proceedings, which meant she might be held late tonight—and would be forced to sit beside Tony longer.

She glanced at the huge clock. Two hours before they’d break for lunch.

“Everything all right, Ivy?” Tony asked in his same low voice.

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

“Two ‘fines’ in a row, huh?” His teasing tone made her skin crawl.

At that moment, the door to the judge’s chambers sounded, and Ivy launched to her feet. “The Honorable Judge Bancroft. Please stand.”

As Tony stood, his sleeve brushed hers. Fear was a bitter taste in the back of her throat. With one caress, her safe and comfortable job had been transformed to a dark place. How was she going to shed light on it again?

All throughout the morning, she fought to focus on the case and the courtroom, as was her duty. When she fumbled to find a paper, Tony ran a finger through the pile and plucked the one she needed free.

Hatred loomed inside her.

By the time she escaped for lunch, she had worked herself into a frenzy. What if he asked her to lunch, as he sometimes did? They’d only ever walked to the sub shop together and grabbed a quick bite. Nothing untoward. Now she questioned her former moves. Dissected each look or word she’d ever given the man.

Feeling adrift, she sank to the bench outside the courthouse and dialed Liam’s cell. He was going to the office again today after his therapy session. Besides wanting to know how his therapy had gone, she needed to hear his voice.

“Liam.” Tears threatened.

His voice was tight. “Hey, Ivy. How’s your day?”

Miserable. Please talk to me.
“Fine. How about yours? Therapy okay?”

“Kicked my ass but it was good.” What was that strain in his voice for? Friday night had been extraordinary, and even after Ward left on Saturday morning, Liam and Ivy had continued their easy banter and general warmth toward each other.

“Are you getting some work done at the office?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Ward’s coming by to talk to me any minute.”

Her stomach flipped at Ward’s name.

“Everything going all right in court today, baby?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose hard, trying to hold off the stinging tears.
No, horribly all wrong today, Liam. Come get me.

But she didn’t say that. Liam had enough demons without her adding a touchy bailiff to the mix. She sucked in a quiet breath and said, “Actually, court is about to resume. I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you tonight. And if you’d like, invite Ward for dinner.”

And invite him for more if you want
was unspoken.

“All right, baby. Talk to you soon.” Liam’s voice warmed a fraction, comforting her more than he could have known.

She had no appetite for lunch, so she sat on a park bench across from the courthouse, trying to gain some calm. All she could do was stand up to Tony.

Back in the courtroom, she met his gaze head-on. This man wasn’t going to make her job a living hell. If he tried to touch her or said anything inappropriate, she’d see that he was removed from his position.

“Have a good lunch, Ivy?”

“Yes,” she said coolly, and suddenly realized it was true. She’d gained some precious clarity on the situation and wasn’t going to be cowed by Tony. She’d heard Liam’s voice. And tonight, she might find herself locked between two hard male bodies again.

“Stop your damn pacing, Mattson,” Ward said in a grim voice.

Liam rolled to a stop, surprise sparking through his system. He’d never considered that he was able to “pace” in his wheelchair, but he supposed that’s exactly what he was doing, rolling the length of the forestry office.

He jammed his fingers through his hair. “What the hell is the plan, Ward?”

For ten minutes, they’d sat in silence, pondering how to best take care of this situation. They needed to preserve the company, and Ward’s company would now be targeted since he had recently aligned himself with Mattson Hardwoods. But more than anything, they needed to ensure the safety of their workers and protect Ivy.

“I can’t believe those bastards. Why my wife? What has she done? She doesn’t have anything to do with the industry!”

“I thought you said she’s been sending articles to the local papers to keep face for Mattson Hardwoods,” Ward said.

Liam forcefully breathed hot air through his nose. “So you believe someone read those articles and saw her name, and now she’s a target?”

“Probably. What did the police say?” Ward leaned against the desk and folded his arms over his big chest. The look in his eyes tortured Liam, because it was so close to the one Ward had possessed when Liam had left. What was the man thinking to put that look there?

BOOK: Fevered Hearts
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