Moonlight Menage (8 page)

“How are you really feeling, Su?”

Su’s lips curved in what looked like a grimace. “Healthy as a horse and sharp as a tack. Unfortunately, I know it won’t last. Tomorrow I may not remember my own name.”

His hand tightened on hers and a cold shiver raced down his back. He hated the fact that he could do nothing for this woman. And that she was so calm about her own fate.

He couldn’t even bear to think about this happening to Tira.

Before he could say something, anything, Su’s expression became determined. “You need to get her to change her mind, Duke. I don’t want her to rot away here taking care of me. I made mistakes. I don’t want her to repeat them. She won’t listen to me. I’ve tried to talk to her but she’s too much like me. Too stubborn for her own good.”

Blessed Goddess, he wished he had that much control over Tira. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“I’m the last person she listens to, you know that.”

“Then you have to change that. You and Nic. I don’t want her to end up here, strapped to some damn bed like a lunatic. There have been times I’ve thought about telling her to leave the
boschetta
, to give up her Gift and let someone else carry the burden. But my daughter’s Gift is strong and vital to the
boschetta
. She knows giving up her Gift to another, letting another carry her weight, would be weak. And Tira’s not weak. She has to see that. She has to
know
it.” Su stopped to take and release a deep breath. “I worry so much, Duke. You have to do something. And soon. Or I’m afraid it will be too late for all of you.”

* * * * *

“Are you sure it’s okay to move him, Tam? He still looks really pale.”

Praying to the Great Mother Goddess that his knees didn’t buckle as he walked to Duke’s truck, Nic tried not to let the fear in Tira’s voice get to him.

She and Tam had remained on the porch while he and Nic headed for the truck, ostensibly for Tira to get last-minute nursing instructions.

Nic knew she was worried about him. Which was both gratifying and ass-chafing.

Yeah, he looked like shit. For that matter, he felt like shit. He’d had his insides rearranged when that beam had fallen on him.

But he wasn’t dead. At least, not yet.

According to Tira’s vision, that was coming soon enough and he’d be damned if he went to his grave with regrets.

The three of them had wasted the past eight years. He wasn’t wasting any more. His plan would work. It
had
to.

And after he and Duke made her theirs, then he’d be able to die. Maybe not happy but at least satisfied, knowing Duke would be there for her.

“Well, I wanted him to stay a few days more but you know what he’s like,” Tam said. “I don’t think he’ll do any more damage but keep him in bed as much as possible. The internal bleeding has stopped and
lucani
healing is remarkably fast so he shouldn’t be in danger of starting again but keep an eye out for unusual paleness and lethargy.”

Tira sighed deeply before she thanked Tam and headed for Duke’s Jeep at the bottom of the steps. Nic had pulled himself into the front passenger seat. No way could he get in the back without contorting his body in ways it really wouldn’t like.

Duke stood by the front bumper, watching him with narrowed eyes.

Yeah, he got that Duke wasn’t totally on board with the plan. At least not yet. But when Nic got a chance to tell him what he planned, Duke would be fine. He had to be.

Because Nic couldn’t bear to be apart from her any longer.

As he watched her come closer, he felt the arousal he tried to keep banked struggle to run rampant. He’d had years of practice keeping it confined but he’d hadn’t spent much time with Tira.

That was going to change so he needed to keep it together.

When she reached the car, Nic watched her and Duke exchange glances, heat passing between them before Tira dropped her head and slipped into the backseat. When Duke climbed into the driver’s seat, he sighed, shoved the car into gear and headed for Tam’s old house.

Since joining Kyle as
sicarii
, he, Duke and Kaine had moved into the old Guiliano place. It was only a mile or so away from Kyle’s and though it only had one bedroom when they’d moved in, he and Duke had added on another two bedrooms.

And he didn’t plan on sleeping alone in the king-size bed he’d built with his own hands longer than a few nights.

Looking into the rearview mirror, he caught Tira watching him with those clear blue eyes before she quickly shifted her gaze out the window again.

Leaving him to stare at her perfect profile.

She personified the word lovely to him with her soft features, rounded chin and cheeks, full lips and huge eyes. Golden blonde hair fell in waves past her shoulders. She’d gotten the unusual color from her father, who she’d never met. Su had never even told the guy she was pregnant.

No way would he ever let a woman run him away from his child.

If he was ever lucky enough to have one.

Which wasn’t looking too likely at the moment.

He caught back a sigh before it could escape. Didn’t want Duke and Tira to think—What? That he was tired?

Hell, he ached all over, he wanted to close his eyes and sleep so badly his body had already started to shut down and he had a hard-on.

He was screwed. Completely. Absolutely.

And he needed a few minutes to recharge.

He’d close his eyes, just until they got to the house.

And when they were all enclosed by the same four walls, nothing was going to stop him from showing her what she meant to him.

* * * * *

The drive to the ramshackle-looking house took only minutes, so Tira didn’t have much time to second-guess her decision. No, she had just enough time to work herself into a state of panic.

Which she absolutely hated. Hated the feeling that she couldn’t handle herself. Handle her life.

Taking several deep breaths as Duke pulled to a stop at the steps to the front door, she tried to get the panic under control.

Idiot. Get a grip.

Duke opened the car door, the squeak of the hinges tearing her thoughts back to the present and, when he stuck his hand back in to help her out, she didn’t hesitate to take it.

When she had her feet on the ground, she tried to release Duke, but he held on.

She looked up into his eyes and felt a little bit of the panic fade away.

His gaze narrowed on hers and his warm hand tightened the tiniest bit more. “Okay?”

She automatically nodded then realized she was. Just from his touch. Since her Gift had kicked in at eighteen, she hadn’t touched many people. Her mom, Cat, the occasional
eteri
she picked up in a bar for a night of mindless sex.

She dropped her gaze, not wanting Duke to read the regret in her eyes. She wasn’t ashamed of anything she’d done. She was an adult and she’d never had sex with anyone she didn’t genuinely like.

But she could admit, even if only to herself, that those other men had only been stand-ins for these two.

“I’m fine.”

His raised eyebrows let her know he didn’t believe her but when she shivered as a cold breeze swept by her, he put his keys in her hand and released her.

“Open the door for me. I have a feeling I’m going to have to carry Sleeping Ugly.”

Her gaze automatically flipped to see Nic asleep in the passenger seat.

Her lips curved at the exasperation in Duke’s voice. “He needs the rest,” she said as she headed for the door. “He should’ve stayed with Tam, at least for a few days.”

She opened the front door and turned to watch Duke lift Nic out of the car as easily as if he was lifting her.

Nic didn’t move as Duke transferred him from the car to the house and Tira hurried to shut the door and lock it then followed Duke through the house.

“Pull the covers back, Ti. This bastard weighs more than he admits.”

Her first impression as she caught sight of the bed was that he could fit an army in there.

Her second thought—she, Duke and Nic would fit just fine.

She tried really hard not to think about any other women he might have had in there.

Reaching for the deep blue satin quilt on top, she stripped it and the blue sheets beneath to the end of the bed then stepped aside for Duke to set Nic down. The blue sheets set off the brown highlights in Nic’s auburn hair and made his light skin seem even more pale.

After Duke removed Nic’s sneakers, she expected him to move away and let Nic sleep in his sweats and long-sleeved t-shirt. Instead, Duke stripped off Nic’s sweatpants.

She had a brief, heart-stopping glimpse of strong thighs and tight cotton boxers before Duke pulled the covers up. Without conscious thought, her feet took her to the edge of the bed as Duke stepped back.

She stared down at Nic’s pale face, sudden anger taking her by surprise.

She was angry that he’d forced her into this position. So close and yet not able to touch. Angry that she couldn’t say no to him. She sighed, long and loud, her frustration building with each second.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t be here. This was going to make everything worse. He—

“Tira.”

Duke’s quiet command jolted her out of her thoughts and she looked up to find him standing right next to her, concern in the depths of his dark gaze.

She wanted to throw herself at him, let him hold her against him and comfort her. Like he had early this morning.

They needed to talk about that. They needed to talk about a lot of things but she couldn’t read him. She’d never been able to figure out what his expression said about what he was thinking. She was usually pretty good at reading body language but Duke… He was an enigma.

As much as she loved him, sometimes she felt she really didn’t know him.

“Are you hungry, Tira? Do you want something to eat?”

Her eyes flashed wide. “You can cook?”

Well, shit. She wanted to take back the words the second they left her mouth. Damn, she needed a filter between her mouth and her brain. Duke probably thought that was a dig at him.

“No, wait, that didn’t come out right,” she hurried on before he could say anything. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Hey. Ti.” Duke did the only thing guaranteed to shut her up. He touched her, just one finger against her lips. “Stop over-thinking everything. You’re gonna make yourself sick.” Then his lips actually curved in a slight smile. “And yes, I can cook. Nic and Kaine would starve if they had to fend for themselves. You look like you could use some food. You’ve lost weight.”

If anyone else had said that, she’d take it as a compliment. She’d never been model skinny. Her hips were too wide and her breasts too big for her to ever look good without a few pounds padding out the rest of her.

Duke sounded almost angry. As if he was worried about her.

“A few pounds.” She looked away from his intense stare, down at her hands that she didn’t know what to do with. “Mom’s been sick…and I just haven’t been hungry.”

“Well, no more of that. You need to eat. Come on.”

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her after him, out of the room and toward the tiny kitchen she’d seen when they’d walked in. And tried not to cry at the casual touch of his bare skin against hers.

It made her feel almost normal. Most people don’t realize how much they rely on the touch of another person. The brush of skin against skin.

She hadn’t realized until it’d been taken away from her.

When they reached the kitchen, he released her but put his hands on her shoulders and guided her into a chair. “Sit. An omelet okay or you want something else?”

What she wanted was his hands on her skin again. “An omelet’s fine, thank you.”

She barely got the words out around the lump in her throat and he had to be able to hear the tears in her voice. But he either didn’t or he ignored it and got down to business, cracking eggs, heating the pan, chopping ingredients.

They didn’t speak as he cooked. And the silence never got uncomfortable.

Which was amazing.

“He misses you.”

Duke’s voice carried loud and clear even though he was facing away from her at the stove. Her heart thumped at the sentiment.

But what was she supposed to say to that?

That she missed Nic too? With all her heart? That she missed Duke too? Would he even believe that?

How could he not after last night?

Damn it, she was sick of playing this game with him. Sick of tiptoeing around everything.

“I miss him. And I miss you, Duke.”

He froze, the spatula he was using to make the eggs poised in midair over the pan. But he didn’t turn.

“I miss what we could have had if I wasn’t what I am.”

“Shit, Tira, that’s not—”

“No, Duke. You started this. Now you get to listen.”

He fell silent, his hand tightening around the spatula’s wooden handle. When he didn’t say anything, she let him have it.

“I dream about the three of us, together. I imagine what it would be like if I were normal. If I could touch Nic without seeing his death, his funeral. If I could touch you without the guilt. If I could just let go of the fantasy that someday I could have the two men I want most in the world. I don’t want to settle for empty sex with men who don’t know me. Who
can’t
know me.”

The spatula handle broke in his hand, the wood making an audible crack as it splintered.

A small measure of satisfaction burned in her gut at his reaction, even though she didn’t want to be that kind of woman. The kind who tormented the men she couldn’t have or tried to make jealous the ones who didn’t want her.

But she had several years’ worth of gripes to get off her chest and Duke had pushed the right buttons.

“Tira—”

“No. Duke, just—just don’t.”

“Just don’t what?”

Nic’s gaze narrowed as Duke and Tira turned toward the sound of his voice.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Tira sounded both pissed off and upset as she jumped from her chair at the table. She headed straight for him then stopped just before she hit touching range. It was a now-unconscious habit of hers that made him want to punch a wall.