Texas Tangle (23 page)

With a groan, Griffin hauled Matt out of the kitchen and onto the porch, cursing him all the way. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

“Let me go, asshat.” Matt’s whining died off as Ethan joined Griffin in hauling their youngest brother away.

The pounding in Brett’s ears subsided. With Griffin, Dillon and Faith by his side, and from the sounds of it Gramma Barnett’s approval, it didn’t matter what anyone said about what had happened the night before if it ever got out. The Barnetts would be there for him, as well as Dillon. Supporting them no matter what.

Maybe Dillon realized it too, from the stupid grin spreading across his face.

“I’m betting Matt staged that specifically to get out of doin’ those.” Dillon waved toward the counter full of dirty dishes.

Brett shook his head and cracked a smile. “I bet you’re right. The little shit. And it worked too. Come on, I’ll wash, you dry.”

His good mood dissipated as the sink filled with water. It was the first time he’d been alone with Dillon since the night before, and the doubts about the evening, about whether Dillon had heard him whisper that he loved her, about why Dillon had suggested the threesome in the first place, flooded back.

Wondering how to broach the subject, he washed the dishes with such a vigor he wondered how he hadn’t broken everything he touched.

Were his questions best left unasked? Unanswered? Leaving his hands immersed in the water, Brett stopped scrubbing, trying to read Dillon’s body language.

Dillon closed the cupboard door and broke the silence. “Go on, say it. I know you’ve been wanting to.”

“Did you convince your grandmother to make that shit up about her great-grandparents?”

Dillon’s mouth flapped open. “No! Hell, no.”

“Then why the hell did she bring it up out of the blue like that? Something had to have put it in her head. And since you’re the one who’s always over there, I’m figuring maybe you said something to her.”

“How should I know what goes through that woman’s mind? Besides, you’ve been with me the whole day. When would I have had a chance to say jack shit to her without you knowing?”

Dillon was right; he’d not been out of Brett’s sight since they’d gotten up. “What were you expecting me to ask then?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

Dillon leaned a hip against the counter and glanced around before lowering his voice. “While we’re on the subject. About what Gram said, about the three of us living together? Maybe we should think on it some.”

What the fuck? Fulfilling a fantasy for one night was not the same as a permanent threesome. Did Dillon not have a clue what a can of worms he could create? “No. We shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It would solve a buttload of problems.”

“Because it’s not done, Dill.” Damn it, what the hell was Dillon thinking? There was no way in hell’s half acre they could pull off such a ludicrous idea.

Besides, if he agreed to Dillon’s scheme, he’d find himself shut out more and more as time went by. Being reminded how it was Dillon’s house they lived in, how Dillon made more money with his business than he did as a cop. And given enough time, Nikki would grow tired of his shiftwork and turn to Dillon, and he’d find himself shut out completely. Although maybe it would be fairer to Nikki. Being a cop’s wife wasn’t a picnic.

Dillon kept his voice low, but his passion came through like a class-five tornado. “Why should Nikki have to choose one of us over the other? Why can’t we just keep on the way we have been? I’m happy, you seem to be, and so does Nikki.”

The good feelings that had filled him drained as surely as if someone had pulled a plug. “You fucking selfish bastard. You think you’re going to lose her to me, don’t you? Because she made love to me last night. So you figure you’ll cut your losses and offer to share her like she’s some goddamned horse?”

Dillon cursed. “Come on, Brett. Think about it. Could you be happy knowing you’d never feel her sweet little pussy around your dick again?”

Brett stared at him. The fucking bastard. How shallow could Dillon get? “Is that all Nikki is to you? A good fuck?”

“No, of course not.”

He crossed the distance between them until he could feel Dillon’s breath on his face. And Dillon could feel his. He used their difference in height to his advantage and for good measure gave him his best cop stare. “If sex is all you have going with Nik, I will take her from you and not lose a lick of sleep about it.”

To his credit, Dillon didn’t back down, didn’t even flinch. “I love Nikki. It’s not about how good she is in bed. I love everything about her. I want to protect her and help her. I love coming home and knowing she’s there waiting for me. I love getting her to laugh. I want to comfort her when she’s sad and care for her when she’s sick. I want her to know that I love her.”

And there it was. It wasn’t about sharing Nikki. It was about Dillon getting his way. Dillon didn’t need to resort to fists. Not this time. No, he’d discovered a more subtle way to win Nikki’s love.

Grinding his jaw, Brett stepped back. “That’s it, isn’t it? It’s chafing your ass that you might lose her to me.”

“All I know is it’ll kill
either
of us, no matter which of us she chooses. I heard you tell her you love her last night. She’s told me she loves me too, you know. I may not have said the words, but I love her too. So yeah, it’s tearing me apart to think she could go home with you, and I’d never get to be with her again.”

Though he kept them at his sides, Dillon’s hands had clenched into fists, and his feet were planted shoulder-width apart. Brett recognized that stance; Dillon was gearing up for a knock-down-drag-out.

Dillon’s eyes narrowed. “You know, it just occurred to me. I gave you my word that if she chose you, I’d stand aside, that I’d support you both. But I didn’t hear you say anything back. What are you plannin’ on doing if she chooses me over you, Brett? What would you do if you discovered last night was her way of sayin’ goodbye to you? Would you step aside? Or would I have to keep my double-ought with me, just in case?”

Brett’s breath froze in his lungs. Was their lovemaking last night her way of saying goodbye? Is that why Dillon had proposed the threesome? Had the two of them planned it? Was it some sort of perverted way for Dillon—or Nik—to control their break-up? To give
poor Brett
one final fuck before he was sent on his way?

When they’d woken up Nikki hadn’t been cuddling him. She’d been all over Dillon, with him spooning her from behind. Maybe the evidence had been right in front of him, and he’d missed it.

“Has Nik decided?” he asked, the words strangling him.

The stiffness to Dillon’s stance relaxed, his shoulders slumping, his hands relaxing. “No. Not that she’s said to me.”

He forced himself to ask the one question he hadn’t been able to ask since that day back by the pond. “I know you said you’d come to our wedding, but if Nik did choose me, could we still be friends, Dill? Or would you cut us—me—off like you did before?”

Without any sort of hesitation, Dillon met Brett’s gaze. “I won’t pretend it wouldn’t hurt like hell but yeah, we’d still be friends. I don’t want to lose either of you. Not again.”

He meant it, Brett could tell, but saying it was one thing; doing it was a horse of a totally different color.

Dillon shuffled closer, dropping his voice. “But listen to me for a sec. No matter who Nik chooses, one of us is going to get hurt. I don’t want to get hurt, but you know what? I don’t want to see you hurting again either. Does that make me selfish? Damned straight it does. But what if Gram’s got the right idea? What if none of us have to get hurt? What if we just let things continue the way they were last night, this morning? The three of us. Together. Every day. Every night. From here on in. A ’til-death-do-we-part type of commitment.”

Brett exhaled. As seriously fucked-up as it sounded, he could picture it. Besides, it would be nice to know that Nikki would have someone to lean on if he bought the farm one night. He rubbed the bruises on his ribs. What if that bastard last night had pulled out a knife or a gun instead of using his fists? If he and Nikki had been married, she’d have been visited by the sheriff and would be planning his funeral right about now. This way, she’d have Dillon to take care of her.

“Maybe if we were living in California or, I don’t know, some big city where no one knows their neighbors, we could get away with it. But here? Where everyone and their brother knows when you scratch your frickin’ butt? Can you imagine the talk about Nik—and us? You saw what Matt was like just now. You heard what he was saying about her. Imagine that type of trash talk from strangers on the street, or in a store when Nikki’s all alone without us to defend her. Do you want to subject her to that?”

“Okay, so people might talk for a while, but then it’ll die down. Some other scandal will replace us as the topic of choice. You’ve seen it a thousand times before. Look at when it came out that old lady Jenkins was havin’ that affair with Joe Miller. Sure, everyone talked about it, called her a cougar ’cause she was boinking a man almost thirty years younger. But now they’ve been living together for close to five years. No one bats an eye anymore. And look at Sheriff Crawford—he’s lived with the two Cade brothers with not a woman in sight for close to fifteen years, yet he’s still getting voted into office every term.”

Dillon was right.

Shit, were they seriously considering this? Could they make it work? “I can stand what people say about me, but do you think Nikki would go for it? Could we protect her from the gossip?”

There was a moment as Dillon hesitated before he nodded slowly. “I think so. If my family can accept it, I think we’ll be fine.”

Since Dillon’s family was related to most everyone in the county, Brett had no doubt Dillon was convinced of his confidence in the Barnett name being enough to sway public opinion. But Brett wasn’t so sure. After all, neither he nor Nikki was a Barnett.

They worked in silence until he plunged another dirty saucepan into the water. “If Nikki says no, we don’t pressure her, right? We respect her decision, no matter what it is.”

Dillon had the good grace to look offended. “Of course. You think I’m that much of a dickhead?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence.” Dillon took the pot Brett handed him and dried it. Once he’d balanced it on top of the others underneath the cabinet and closed the door, he wadded up the towel and stared at it for a moment. “I love Nikki. I’d love nothing better than to have her live with me for the rest of my life. But I don’t want anything to…” He cleared his throat. “You’re like a brother to me, Brett. You’re…what I’m trying to say is…you and me…”

“Yeah, I get it. You love me.” Though he tried to keep the remark off-hand, Brett felt the heat rising into his face even as his throat closed in again.

“Yeah.” Dillon exhaled. “Yeah, I do. I just…I’m not good at saying it. Especially to guys, you know?” He took another deep breath. “Look, last night, when you and Nikki were making love…well, that’s just it. You two were making love. I don’t want to come between that. If it comes down to it, if she can’t make a decision, then I’ll step back.”

While part of Brett whooped in relief, another part of him wanted to sink onto a chair and bury his face in his hands. “Why would you do that, Dill? Why would you walk away from a woman you say you love?”

“Because she’s happy with you. And you’re happy with her. And you both deserve to be happy. And…” Dillon ran his hands through his hair until he resembled a porcupine with his quills ready to shoot. “You lost your chance with her before because of me. Think of it as me doing the right thing finally, setting the record straight.”

Torn between wanting to say “too little, too late” and “about fuckin’ time,” he realized Dillon had missed the point. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think that’s your decision to make, Dill. It’s Nikki’s.”

Still, the broken part of him inside, the part Dillon had fractured years ago, the part he’d hidden away and tried to pretend didn’t still hurt, eased. No matter who Nikki chose, they’d still be friends.

Dillon shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Look, while I’ve got you alone, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.”

Brett’s hold on the pot he’d been washing tightened, every muscle tense. “About what?”

“About what happened ten years ago.”

Using all his concentration, he placed the pot back in the water and released it before turning to face Dillon. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.

Dillon stared at his boots and took a deep breath before looking him straight in the eye. “I’m sorry for being such a prick. I shouldn’t have beat on you when I’d not told you I liked Nikki. Looking back on it, I’m surprised you ever came back to Texas, and even more surprised that you still talk to me.”

Had Dillon forgotten the countless times he’d stepped in and stopped him from getting beat up when he and his dad had first arrived in Barnett county? Or how many times he’d awoken from one of the endless nightmares he’d had the months, years, after he’d come to live with the Barnetts and found Dillon crouched beside him, willing to talk late in the night until the demons receded? No matter how many times he swallowed, he couldn’t clear the lump that formed in his throat. “You’re my friend, Dill. I couldn’t walk away like that.”

“Yeah, some friend I was.” Dillon broke eye contact and started examining his boots again. “Friends don’t beat the crap out of each other like I pounded on you that night.”

After another deep breath, he raised his head again, misery clouding his eyes. “I’m real sorry. For everything.” He stuck out his hand. “You’re a better man than me, Brett. Will you accept my apology?”

Brett eyed Dillon’s outstretched hand. “You’re not gonna wanna hug me or some touchy-feely shit like that, are you?”

Dillon’s grin lit up his face. “Nah, this is Texas after all. I’ll settle for a good old-fashioned handshake.”

Brett grabbed the towel Dillon had left wadded up on the counter and dried his hands with jerky movements. Despite the assurance, when he clasped Dillon’s hand, he found himself dragged into a hug, Dillon slapping his back.