FriendlySeduction (10 page)

Marc raced down the hall with a shrieking Sara on his heels.

“Give me my skirt back! I’m going to be late for work.”

He stopped in the middle of the living room, holding her
clothes above his head. “Maybe we can negotiate a little something.” He waggled
his eyebrows.

“God, Marc, we’re not ten years old anymore. Come on. I have
to get ready for work.”

“Someone didn’t say the magic word.” Marc teasingly dangled
her skirt just out of her reach.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Sara glared at him and
shook her head.

“Ah honey, you look so cute when you try to be threatening.”
He dropped his tone into baby talk. “Who’s a little tyrant?”

“That’s it!” Sara rushed him and pounced on his chest before
shimmying up his body like a monkey on a tree.

Marc grunted as one pointy knee made contact with his
stomach.

“Yes.” Sara grabbed the skirt then jumped away from him. “I
got it. I go-o-o-o-t it.” Singing her little song, she performed an impressive
victory dance complete with hip shaking and boob bouncing.

“Uh-uh. You still have to pay the piper.”

“Yeah, well, you have to catch me first.” Sara took off in a
run but didn’t make it three steps before Marc grabbed her around the waist and
hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Now that you tried to run away, I’m afraid your payment has
turned into a punishment.” Marc began to take his deliciously wiggling package
back to his room but stopped when he heard a knock at the front door. “Shit.”

Marc took stock of his almost naked body and Sara’s gorgeous
seminude one.

“Just a second,” he yelled. He slowly lowered Sara to the
ground and gave her back her clothes.

They turned at the sound of the front door opening. “Really,
Marc, you should lock your d—”

His mother’s voice had Marc diving for the blanket lying
over the back of the couch. He quickly wrapped Sara in it and gave her a shove
down the hall.

“Morning, Mrs. Sinclair,” Sara mumbled as she darted out of
the room.

“God, Ma. Would it kill you to treat my home with a little
respect? I’m a grown man with a house of my own. What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with me? Don’t speak to me with that
tone. I could turn you over my knee before you knew what was coming.”

Marc snorted. He’d like to see that. He’d been taller than
his mother by the time he was twelve. “Why are you here so early on a Tuesday
morning, Ma?”

“I just heard the most outrageous thing about you and your
friends. And I wanted to hear it straight from you that it wasn’t true.”

God, the way she was looking at him made him feel like he
was fifteen again and had just gotten caught necking in the barn with Becky
Tomas. Marc cleared his throat. “What outrageous thing?”

“That you, Sara and Rob were an item.” She snorted. “Like
any son of mine would be so crass to have been…” She trailed off, the smile
falling from her face as she looked behind him.

Rob and Sara stood in the doorway, dressed with their hands
clasped. Sara gave him a sad look then glanced away.

“Uh, I need to get back to my place and get ready for work.”
She gave Rob a peck on his cheek. “Thanks for letting me crash here last night,
guys.” She passed Marc without looking at him. “Bye, Mrs. Sinclair.”

“Sara, wait.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his
chest. “Ma, it’s true. We’re—all three of us—are together. I know it’s a lot to
take in but I hope in time you’ll be able to…”

Without a word, his mother turned and walked out the door.

“Mom?” Marc stared at the doorway.

She left. She just left him.

“Give her a little time. She loves you.” Rob patted him on
the shoulder. “I know she’ll come around.”

“She just left.” Marc couldn’t wrap his head around it. She
didn’t yell. She didn’t scream. She walked away from him and didn’t look back.
What the hell did that mean? Was she out of his life forever? Was she coming back?
His heart felt like a lead weight.

“I’m sorry, Marc.” Sara nuzzled her head in his chest and
wrapped her arms around him. “But she’ll come around. I’m sure of it.”

“I just… I can’t deal with this right now.” Marc ripped
himself out of Sara’s arms and stalked out of the room.

Sara watched Marc’s retreating back with a heavy heart. He
shouldn’t have to deal with this alone. She wanted to be there for him.

“Let him go.”

“What? But we could—”

“Just give him some time. He’ll be okay.”

She shook her head. “He shouldn’t have to go through this
alone.”

“And he won’t. Just like you won’t be alone when you have to
deal with your mother.”

Sara avoided Rob’s eyes.

“And just like I won’t be alone when I have to deal with the
guys from the force.”

Sara flinched. The good ole boys on the force would have a
lot to say about their relationship. How would Rob deal with that? God, she was
being selfish. Why? Why was she doing this to her best friends?

“We’ll be okay. There are three of us to lean against here.”
Rob drew her in for a bone-crunching hug. “It’ll be fine. You just see.”

Sara tried to nod convincingly. Sure, they’d be fine. They
could survive being run out of town and away from everyone they knew. Right?
Right?

Sara sat in the parking lot after a full day’s work. At
least she assumed it was a full day of work. She had spent her entire shift on
autopilot, unable to get that look on Marc’s face out of her head. He was
hurting and she hated it.

After starting the car, she drove without a thought to her
destination. She wasn’t in the mood to see anyone. She wanted to be alone. She
needed to think through their whole tangled mess.

Was she being selfish? Having her cake and eating it too?
What the hell did that mean anyway? Why wouldn’t she eat it? It was her damn
cake after all. She shouldn’t feel ashamed of their relationship. Those
small-minded people should feel ashamed for turning their backs on their own
family. How could a mother do that? How could
Marc’s
mother do that?
That woman loved her children more than any mother she had ever seen.

Marc’s house had been her surrogate home. The one they had
all gone to after school. She had spent the better part of her childhood
wishing Mrs. Sinclair was her mother. How could she turn her back on all of
them? They were all her children, she told them so often enough growing up.

Her surroundings came into focus. While she was busy sorting
through her feelings on her relationship with the guys and their parents, she
had apparently driven to the outskirts of town to Marc’s parents’ farm. Sara
stopped the car and looked at the gorgeous house with the wraparound porch. So
many times, she had wished this was her home. So many times, the three of them
had played here.

She sat in her car, thinking about all the childhood hijinks
they had gotten up to. The time Marc had gotten lost playing hide-and-seek in
the back pasture. The time Rob had broken his arm jumping down from the barn
roof. She’d never forget the look on his face.

Her stomach began to churn at the remembered vision of his
mangled, twisted arm. But Mrs. Sinclair hadn’t flinched. She had hustled them
all off to the car, and away to the hospital they went.

Or the time she had her first period. It wasn’t her own
mother she had gone to but Mrs. Sinclair.

Somehow this woman turning her back on their relationship
hurt more than her own family. When she thought of what kind of mother she
wished to become it was Mrs. Sinclair she pictured. If she could do half the
job this woman had done, she’d be a great mother.

Until today.

Sara got out of the car and slammed the door closed behind
her. She was at the front door before she had a coherent thought in her head.
Gritting her teeth, she raised a fist and knocked.

Her heart pounded. What was she doing? What was she going to
say? Crap. Maybe it wasn’t too late to—

“Sara!” She turned back at the sound of Mrs. Sinclair’s
voice. “W-what are you doing here?”

Somehow she found her voice. “I-I get it. I understand that
this isn’t normal. That it isn’t what you expected of me or Marc or Rob.” She
took a deep breath and looked into Mrs. Sinclair’s eyes. “But we’re happy. We
love each other. And we hope—with time—you can accept it. You’ll be able to
look at us again as your children.”

Sara paused as Mrs. Sinclair’s mouth opened and closed but
no sound came out.

“I spent my entire childhood wishing you were my mother. And
I hope you can be again. We will never write you out of our lives. Whenever you
feel you can handle this, we’ll be waiting.”

Sara turned and walked away. She didn’t need an answer from
Mrs. Sinclair. She didn’t expect one today. But Mrs. Sinclair would come
around—she loved them too much.

“Sara?”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Take care of them. They deserve to be loved,” Mrs. Sinclair
said before softly closing the door.

Sara smiled to herself as she walked back to the car. It
wasn’t a ringing endorsement but she’d take it. She got behind the wheel and
started the engine. She couldn’t get home fast enough.
Home.
With Rob
and Marc. That was her home now.

A police cruiser passed her going in the opposite direction.
At the sound of squealing tires and flying gravel, she watched in the rearview
mirror as the cruiser flipped a U-turn, lights flashing. Sara cursed. Looking
at her speedometer, she knew she wasn’t going over the speed limit but who knew
how fast she had been driving a few minutes ago?

She pulled over to the shoulder and tried to get her
breathing under control. She had never been pulled over in her life. Oh God,
her perfect record. Sara panted.
Registration!
She scrambled to open the
glove box and searched for her details. She knew it was here. She always kept
it updated and inside the car. Where was it?

She flinched at the knocking on the window. Sara punched the
window control without looking up as she continued her search. There it was!
She held it up triumphantly. Now where was her proof of insurance?

A throat clearing grabbed her attention.

She coughed but continued her search. She needed to find her
insurance card. “Uh, what’s the problem, officer?”

Silence.

Her breath froze in her chest. Crap. That wasn’t a good
sign.

“Where the hell have you been?” Rob’s irritated voice broke
through her panicked search.

She glared at the shadowed figure on the other side of her
door. “You dirty son of a bitch! How could you do that to me? I was so freaked
out.” She gasped as the passenger door ripped open and Marc plopped down in the
seat.

“Where the fuck have you been? We thought—” Marc broke off
as he looked at Rob.

“We thought you bailed,” Rob finished quietly.

“Bailed? I’ve only been gone—” Sara gasped as she looked at
the clock. Seven? When did it get so late? What had she done for five hours?
How long had she sat in the parking lot after her shift?

“I-I…I’m sorry, guys. I just needed to think.”

“About us?” Marc asked quietly.

“And our families and the town. I just wanted to make sure
that I—that we—were going to be okay. That we were… I don’t know.”

“Where were you?” Rob demanded.

“I, uh, I was…at the Sinclair farm,” she finished under her
breath.

“Fuck, Sara!”

She flinched at the rage in Marc’s voice. He had never been
quick to anger. This was so not good.

“She’s my mother. If she doesn’t want to be part of our
life, it’s her loss. I’m fine with it, why aren’t you?”

“She’s my mother too. She might not have given birth to me
but she practically raised me. And you’re not fine with it, Marc. You’re
kidding yourself if you think that. I know you better than that.” She gave him
a penetrating look he tried and failed to evade.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged helplessly. “There’s nothing we
can do about it. Either she accepts us or she doesn’t. I love you and nothing
my family says or does is going to change that.”

Sara melted at Marc’s declaration. Her sensitive guy always
knew what to say to make her all gooey inside.

“Awww, I love you too.” She leaned over and covered his lips
with hers in a tender kiss. She drew back after a moment, resting her forehead
against Marc’s. She couldn’t believe after all her heartache with all those
wrong guys that the right one was under her nose the entire time. The right
two
guys.

She looked over at Rob. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay. We’ll be okay. There are three of us to
lean on. That is, if you still want to lean on us. Both of us.”

Sara couldn’t believe the questioning tone in Rob’s voice.
“Yes, of course I do. I love you and Marc, nothing has changed that.”

“Good.” Rob leaned through the window and covered her lips
with his own trademark rough-and-hungry kiss. He pulled back at Sara’s muffled
moan. “I think we should move this party to someplace a little more private.”

Sara giggled. It probably wouldn’t be a good thing for Rob
to be literally caught with his uniformed pants down.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea. Let’s go home.”

The End

Multi-published author Gillian Archer has always loved books.
And has had a serious soft spot for romances ever since the tender age of
twelve, when she would steal her mother’s Harlequin books and read them under
the covers with a flashlight. But the writing bug didn’t hit until over ten
years later after a dare from the husband. (It might have also involved a
wall-bangingly bad book.) Now she can’t imagine doing anything else.

Outside of writing, Gillian loves to spend time snuggling
with her husband, playing with their dogs and traveling to exotic places. After
living abroad for four years, she is very happy to be back in the U.S. with the
wonders of Walmart.

Gillian welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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