Spirits Shared (2 page)

It was easy to envision a situation where
she was home with their kids and he was on a trip where there were
guys who weren't clients. It would happen in a weak moment, maybe
after the rush of conquering some span of water or mountain or
maybe because he'd gone years without being with another man.

Christ, he would lose everything that
mattered to him. Everything. Her. Their kids. His self-respect.
Everything.

If he could see a shrink and get
cured
or take a pill and bingo, no more urge for gay sex,
he'd do it for Jess. He'd give up that part of himself. But one,
those options weren't available. And two, she'd never ask it of him
anyway.

Jessica had no problem with someone being
gay or bi. Hell, that's what had led to his confession in the
car.

He'd intended to wait until they'd gotten to
the cabin. He'd imagined himself telling her after they'd made love
in front of a roaring fire. But then she'd told him about a book
she was thinking of writing, a teen
coming out
story and
he'd
come out.

He swallowed hard. Seeing her hurt was
tearing him up.

Somehow he had to convince her they could
work this out. He didn't want an open marriage where they both
screwed whoever caught their interest. It'd kill him to be with her
and wonder if she'd been with someone else earlier in the day,
worry that she was falling in love with someone else and would
decide that guy could satisfy her completely.

There'd been a time in his life when he'd
been quick to fuck anyone who caught his eye. But even before he'd
met Jess, he'd slowed down on the casual sex. Not that he'd been a
saint, but deep down he was already waiting for the right
person—the right woman. He'd never pictured himself setting up
house with another guy. He'd never thought much about what it would
mean to be bi and married.

The truth was, he'd never been one to
over-plan the future. Yeah, he was meticulous about the adventure
trips, lives were on the line. But when it came to the big picture
of his personal life, he trusted that he'd see the brass ring and
be ready to grab it when it came along.

He'd seen Jessica and known she was the one.
Now he had to hang on to her. A threesome could work.

They'd get married. Eventually they'd meet
someone and his friend Patrick could perform a ceremony if vows in
front of friends and family turned out to be important to their
third.

Clay rubbed his palm over the engagement
ring, the warmth of her hand sinking into his. The wedding band was
on the dresser at home, a reminder along with the question he
always asked first thing in the morning,
You picked a
date?

His brother didn't get it. Bring up how much
he wanted to get married and Carter always said,
What's with
you? Shacking up is the way to go. Look at Mom and Dad. Think how
miserable it would have been if one of them had felt trapped and
couldn't leave for a while.

Yeah. And every time that'd happened,
there'd always been the fear that this time, the one who'd left
wouldn't come home.

Clay took his hand off hers so he could
shovel the food faster. Forget a hotel room. He'd screwed up by
rushing things but he'd have a week alone with Jess to make it
right.

Outside the wind gusted harder than when
he'd fought his way over from the general store. They'd be better
off if they could get ahead of the storm and get to the cabin
before the dirt roads leading to it got slick and the danger of
mudslides increased.

He finished the last of his burger and
fries. Jess polished off her grilled cheese.

Ache spasmed through his heart at her ducked
head, at the goodbye he read in her curved shoulders. "Ready?"

"As soon as I stop by the ladies room."

They both stood. He wanted to pull her into
his arms. He didn't. Nothing he could say or do here could make
this right.

The tightness in his chest increased with
each step she took away from him. He couldn't lose her. But maybe
either way he was destined—

No. He refused to believe that they weren't
meant to be together.

He left a tip tucked under the plate then
went to the counter where their waitress stood behind an
old-fashioned cash register. She took the money he offered and gave
him change. "Things have a way of working out. Let the Thunderbird
into your lives and you will find happiness."

"Thanks." Not that he had a clue what she
meant by the Thunderbird or that her words of encouragement eased
the ache splintering his heart.

Jessica returned. He opened the diner door
for her, opened the car door for her. At least she still wore her
engagement ring, at least she still wanted to go to the cabin.

They drove away from Hohoq under a sky that
continued to darken with gray and black clouds. Thunder pealed in
short bursts, moving closer. When they turned off the main road,
rain pelted the car, pounding against metal like tiny fists.

In the intimacy created by the storm,
Jessica placed her hand on his thigh and whispered, "I love
you."

His throat burned beneath his jaw. He
covered her hand with his, rubbed his thumb over the engagement
ring. "I love you too. I don't want to lose you, Jess. You're the
best thing that's ever happened to me."

The hand on his thigh slid upward and cupped
his erection. He managed a shaky laugh and prayed this wasn't the
beginning of her saying goodbye. "He loves you too. He thinks about
you constantly."

She didn't laugh. She didn't make an
appreciative comment about his cock the way she usually did when he
professed its love.

The burn in his throat moved into his eyes.
He struggled for something else to say, something that would turn
back the clock so things were normal between them, but there was
nothing he could say. There was no going back.

The dirt road steepened though they'd stop
well before the snow line. He rubbed his thumb over her fingers and
the ring, watched for the turn that would take them to the
cabin.

"How many have there been?" she asked, her
voice so soft he wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't fixated on
her.

"Male lovers?"

"Yes."

"Do you really want a number, Jess?" He
didn't think she did. Except for at the beginning of their
relationship, when they'd needed to assure themselves they were
sexually safe, they'd left previous partners in the past.

She closed her fingers into a fist beneath
his hand. "No. I guess what I want to know is if you ever loved any
of them."

"Not like I love you. But you're the first
woman I've ever really loved. The rest were either crushes or fun
fucks."

He glanced at her face but couldn't read her
eyes. "I'm done with casual, Jess."

She stayed quiet for a long time before
finally saying, "Somebody could get hurt."

Her voice held the fear that she was the one
who would get hurt and his heart wanted to pledge that he'd never
let that happen, but how could he make that promise when he'd
already hurt her by telling her he was bi? His hand tightened on
hers, acknowledging the truth. His throat locked.

Jessica forced her fingers to unclench on
Clay's erection. Could she really give herself to another man for
him? Could she really share him with that other man?

She wasn't turned off by the idea of gay sex
and would probably be turned on watching it if she loved the men
involved. She'd had fantasies of being with two men at once, but
that was fantasy, and there was no possibility of heartbreak and
loss in fantasy.

She wanted Clay to say he'd always love her
and nothing would change that. She wanted him to promise a
threesome would lead only to incredible pleasure and not to
unbearable pain. But he couldn't guarantee those things. No one
could.

Even for him, she didn't know if she could
handle this, but she asked, "How would we find a third person?"

"Jess…" His hand nudged hers up and down on
his erection. "I've been so torn up over telling you…" his voice
broke. "I've been so worried about losing you that I haven't gotten
past the part where I convince you to keep wearing the engagement
ring."

"I'm not sure I can go through with it."

Tears glittered against her cheeks and
Clay's throat clogged. He didn't have the courage to ask her if she
was talking about the threesome, or their getting married.

"Maybe just knowing you accept the need will
be enough to keep it manageable. I'd rather cut my dick off than
hurt you."

She sniffled and gave a tiny laugh. "I'd
rather you not do that. It's one of your best parts and most
redeeming features."

Some of the ache in his heart eased at being
on familiar ground. His throat cleared and he arched his hips to
press his cock into her cupped hand. "He's a big fan of yours
too."

Jessica gave Clay's erection a little
squeeze, ready to push
The Revelation
out of her thoughts
for a little while. "He can show me how big a fan he is when we get
to the cabin."

"He'll do that."

They reached a turnoff guarded by totem
poles. In the stormy grayness the poles looked surreal. The
pounding of rain became ancient drums. The wind became the power of
the Thunderbirds perched on top of the poles, their wings
outstretched as they claimed everything they could see.

"They're beautiful," she said. "Like
towering guards serving the earth and wind and water."

"Yeah, they are. We can hike back tomorrow
and get a closer look. This turn leads to the local sheriff's
house. The next one will take us to our cabin."

The drumbeats became so real that she gave
in and asked, "Do you hear them?"

He glanced at the totem poles. The faces of
badgers and bears and foxes and birds of prey were carved into the
wood beneath the Thunderbirds. "What? The birds or the
animals?"

"Drums beating."

He laughed and flashed a smile that had her
heart tripping over itself. "Love your imagination, babe."

Harder winds buffeted the car. Clay took his
hand off hers and put it on the steering wheel.

Five miles later the fury of the storm
arrived. It was magnificent in its violence, like something alive
and primal.

The windshield wipers swiped frantically at
water. The car edged forward at a crawl. A flash of lightning
streaked across the sky. A crack of thunder splintered the air
right on top of them.

Jessica flinched. A rumbling vibration shook
the car.

She grabbed the edge of the seat. Clay hit
the gas and they jolted forward.

An instant later something slammed into the
rear of the car.

She screamed as they spun, heart climbing
into her throat as they plunged off the road and careened down the
steep incline toward a line of trees.

There was time for a gasp. An instant of
blindness as violent impact exploded the airbags.

Shock held her in place for a second. And
then she could think.

I'm okay. I'm okay.

She turned toward Clay, slumped in this seat
and not moving, and a sob choked off breath.
Oh god, let him be
okay! Please let him be okay!

The driver side window was a spider-web of
cracks where he'd hit it. She jerked out of the seatbelt and
harness, forced herself to fight the swelling panic.

He's breathing. At least he's breathing.
That's a good sign.

With shaking hands, she gently explored his
skull. There was a knot already forming on the side of his head.
But nothing felt broken and there was only a little blood on the
side of his face.

He moaned and the sound lanced into her. His
eyes flickered open and she glimpsed uneven pupils before his lids
drifted shut. She thought
concussion
but her stomach
churned.

She swallowed, and swallowed again, trying
to keep the grilled cheese and fries down. There could be other
injuries, injuries she couldn't see.

His hand twitched as though he intended to
reach for his seatbelt. "Jess?" It came out slurred.

She covered his hand with hers. "I'm right
here."

With her other hand, she grabbed her purse
and retrieved her cellphone. There was no signal.

Clay opened his eyes. "Jess?"

His voice was still slurred and confused.
His pupils looked more uneven and his breathing… Was it shallower?
More labored?

He could be bleeding internally. A lung
could be punctured. Things inside him could be broken.

She didn't want to leave him alone with a
concussion. But if she didn't, and there were other injuries, it
could get worse, so much worse.

She needed to climb to the road and see if
she could get a signal. And if she couldn't then she'd need to
leave him long enough to get to the sheriff's house.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She knocked
them away
. I have to do this.

"Clay?"

He didn't answer. Her heart stretched up her
throat and banged in her ears.

She jostled him gently, afraid he'd slipped
into a coma. "Clay?"

He stirred. Eyelids flickered. Lips parted
and finally, slowly, moved. His voice was too faint to hear but she
read the words.
Love you
.

Eyes stinging she grabbed her jacket and put
it on, pulled the hood up though there was a lull in the rain.

"I'm getting help," she said, pressing a
kiss to his forward.

She got out of the car. No bars.

Zipping the cellphone into her jacket
pocket, she glanced at Clay.
Please, please be okay when I get
back.

She climbed, sending small rocks and
miniature landslides downward with her hands and knees and feet.
Reaching the road, Clay wasn't visible, but the boulder that must
have hit the car and sent them spinning off the road had smashed
into several pines, uprooting one and breaking another in two
before ripping into a third.