Texas Tangle (28 page)

They deserved an answer.

What would you prove by breaking their hearts and leaving all three of you unhappy?

But they’d get over it. They’d find someone who could give them the children they deserved.

They’re two grown men who know their own minds. I’d say they’ve given you their answer, so who are you to question their decisions?

Who was she? And was that part of the issue? She’d married straight out of school, not to the man she wanted to love for the rest of her life, but to please her parents, to provide her child with a father. Because that’s what society dictated. Because her mother threatened to cut her off from the family, and she’d tried to salvage her marriage even when she knew it was doomed.

It’s called taking responsibility for your own actions.

She’d done that. When everyone predicted she’d be out on the streets having to earn her rent on her back, she’d found boarders for her stables and held onto the ranch. She’d paid the mortgage and even had a good credit rating. Before Phil had gotten to it anyway.

There comes a time when you have to think of yourself. When you have to listen to your heart.

Her gaze returned to Dillon’s house. She was happy there. With Dillon. With Brett.

She’d laughed more with Dillon, more than she had in the last ten years. He wouldn’t let her sit around feeling sorry for herself. He’d poke and prod and get her moving, thinking of the future, not brooding over the past. And Brett? Brett kept them both grounded. He tethered Dillon’s flights of fancy and stopped her imagination from going overboard, imagining the worst in situations with his practical approach. Between the two of them they had introduced her to a sensuality she’d never imagined existed inside her.

Can you picture your life without them in it?

No.

Before she realized it, she’d stepped off the porch, grabbed Bashir’s reins and swung herself into the saddle. The gelding sensed her urgency. His hooves pounded over the rocks and over the stream, his stride lengthening in a steady beat once they reached level ground. Rascal raced beside them, barking in excited yips at the chase.

Once she was in sight of the house, she saw Dillon and Brett walking off the porch toward her, their faces grim. Worried.

Brett reached her first. “I just got a call from the station. Phil’s been arrested by the Austin PD.”

“I know. Phil called me looking for bail.” She swung herself out of the saddle.

Cursing, Dillon grabbed the reins. “He had the balls to call you for a handout after what he did?”

Brett’s hands had curled into fists but he didn’t say anything.

Nikki stroked her hand along the jaw he’d locked tight. “Don’t worry. I said no.”

His eyes closed as he dragged her against him. “Thank God. I was afraid you were going to ask me for a loan. I didn’t know how I was going to tell you there was no way in hell I’d help bail him out.”

“I’d have given her the money,” Dillon said, his expression unusually dark. “Then I would have driven to Austin and beaten the living tar out of him.”

She pulled away from Brett and threw her arms around Dillon’s neck, giggling. “Thank you. But you don’t have to do that now.”

Though she knew there’d be tough times ahead, right here, right now, all was right with her world. And she was damned well going to enjoy the moment. “I told Phil to grow up. I’m through with putting up with his shit. With fixing all his problems.”

“About damned time.” Dillon kissed her forehead. “Come on, let’s get the saddle off this fella and then go have some lunch.”

“Are you all right, Nik? When you ran out of here…” Brett asked, his voice quiet as they walked into the filtered light in the barn.

“I’ll admit, being seen by Tiny with both of you scared me, but I’m fine now.” She laced her fingers with his. This was how it could be for the rest of her life. Dillon to her right, Brett to her left. Each supporting the other. All three of them. That’s what love was about. It was respect and honor and commitment. “To tell the truth, I’m feeling better than I have in a very long time.”

If she hadn’t been watching carefully, she wouldn’t have seen the subtle glance Brett gave Dillon. “You’re not thinking of moving out on us?”

She could hear the careful control in Brett’s voice. Knew the effort he was expending when his grip on her hand tightened.

“No, though I have to admit I thought about it.” She tightened her grip on both their hands. “I’ve decided to stay here. If you’ll have me.”

Dillon stopped mid-stride, accidentally pulling on Bashir’s reins. “With both of us?”

“Yes. All three of us.”

Instead of whooping with joy the way she’d expected, he didn’t move. “A couple of hours ago, you ran out of here as fast as a jack rabbit with a coyote on his tail. What changed your mind?”

She glanced at Brett and saw the same cautiousness in his expression. Without meaning to, by dithering over her decision, she’d hurt them.

“Because I realized that I can’t live without you. Either of you.”

They shared another look. Without speaking, they set to work removing Bashir’s tack. Brett’s moves were deliberate and meticulous, as if he’d gone on high alert and needed the time to gather himself. Dillon shook out the saddle blanket and folded it with a precision she’d never seen from him before. The sense of peace that had enveloped her outside started to unravel.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you believe me?” She grabbed the blanket from his hands and tossed it onto the wall, not caring when it fell on the floor. “I thought you wanted this. The three of us.”

Dillon rubbed his hands on his jeans then picked up a curry comb and started brushing Bashir. “We do, Nik. But—”

“—but we’re not convinced you’re going to stay with us,” Brett finished for him. “That you’re as committed to us as we are to you.”

“We love you. Both of us. We’re in for the long haul, no matter what happens.” The comb Dillon wielded with precision stilled on Bashir’s neck. When he looked at her, there was no trace of his usual optimism. “We’re not going to push you into something you don’t want, but we need a commitment from you, Nik.”

Brett folded his arms across his chest. “We need to know that the first time someone makes some snide remark in the grocery store or when one of us tries to kiss you in public, you’re not going to hightail it out on us.”

That’s what she’d done, she couldn’t deny it. While it hurt that they didn’t believe her commitment to them both, she understood their hesitation. But how could she prove she meant what she said except over time?

“You could at least tell us what changed your mind,” Dillon added.

That was something she could do. The tightness that had been building in her chest eased and she released her breath.

She walked over to Dillon and took the curry comb from him and tossed it into the tack room. “Remember how I said Phil called?”

“Yup.” Both Dillon and Brett growled their identical responses.

“I told him he needed to start taking responsibility for his actions. Afterward, I realized I should follow my own advice.”

“I don’t follow.” Dillon shook his head in confusion. “You’re one of the most responsible people I know.”

“Responsible for everyone else, yes. I paid the bills when Wade let them stack up. I took Phil in when he needed somewhere to stay. But I never took responsibility for myself. For my own happiness.” She took another deep breath. “Did I ever tell you why I didn’t leave Wade after we lost the baby?”

Dillon’s expression softened, as did his voice. “I sorta assumed you loved him.”

She shook her head. “I did. At first. But I’m talking about later. When I found out he was screwing around on me.”

They both shook their heads.

“I stayed with him because I was a coward.”

Brett grasped her hand, stroking his thumb over hers. “How were you a coward, Nik?”

“I married Wade because my parents said I had to marry him, or they’d kick me out into the streets. I was afraid of being homeless, especially pregnant and homeless. I mean, I believed I loved Wade so I thought we could make it work, but we were just kids. We hardly knew each other. I had all these dreams of us growing old together, and raising lots of babies. It wasn’t until after we were married that I discovered he’d never had plans to have kids. He liked to drink and party all night with his buddies, while I preferred curling up on the couch reading or going out riding. Wade and I had nothing in common. Which we would have found out if I hadn’t gotten pregnant.”

She paused, remembering the blackness that had enveloped her during those weeks. Those months. Despair, hopelessness, and worse, her eventual resignation.

She took a deep breath and continued, “The week after I came home from the hospital, I told my parents I wanted to divorce Wade. I told them I wanted to move back home, to go to school and make something of myself. But they told me they’d never speak to me again if I did, that I wasn’t welcome at home unless Wade and I were still together. So I stayed.”

“You were nineteen years old.” Dillon jumped in. “You had nowhere to go. You felt trapped.”

“That’s not cowardice,” Brett agreed. “That’s survival.”

“No. I could have left him. I should have.” Life could have been so different if she’d realized she’d had the power to change her life back then. If she’d taken charge of her own life instead of looking to others to tell her what to do. “Other women have survived a hell of a lot worse and gotten out. I could have gone out and looked for a job but I didn’t because I was afraid of failing. I wanted to take night school courses but Wade’d bitch about it, and I got tired of arguing, so I gave in. Because I was afraid. I was afraid of being alone. I was afraid of my parents never speaking to me again. That’s why I let Phil come live with me too. Because I’d hoped they’d start talking to me again. I was afraid I’d never have anyone who cared.”

That she’d convinced herself that Phil might have any sort of concern had been sheer desperation. And loneliness.

“When Tiny saw us this afternoon, I was afraid of being cut off from everyone again.” She looked at Brett. “But you weren’t worried at all.”

Brett started to say something but she shook her head, needing to continue, needing to be heard.

“You’d decided that the three of us living together makes you happy, and you went for it. Even though you have to see Tiny every day. Even though he could make so much trouble for you on the job. But you weren’t worried at all. I—”

“Nikki—” Brett broke in.

She stopped him again. “Please. I need to say this. I need to explain. I want to be strong for once. To make up my own mind, to make decisions that affect my life without checking with everyone I know to see if they’d approve. I want to stop trying to please everyone else before I please myself. I’m not going to let anyone ever tell me who I should or shouldn’t love. Not again. So I’m not going to be a coward about our relationship anymore. I refuse to be.”

She looked at Dillon. How had she gotten so lucky in finding him? In finding the Barnetts? She loved him. She loved them. Anyone else who questioned that love could go hang. Determined to never let fear drive her decisions again, she stood up straight. “Your mother told me I should listen to my heart instead of my head in this. My heart has known all along what I need to do. I love you, both of you, and I don’t want a life without both of you in it. Forever. And I don’t care who knows. You both can kiss me in the middle of Main Street at high noon if you want. I won’t run away again. I promise.”

A primitive intensity in his eyes, Brett disentangled his hand from her grasp. He dragged his fingers up her arm then along her shoulder. Time slowed as he cupped her head in his palms and captured her mouth with his. She grasped his biceps, dragging him closer, loving the feel of his strength beneath her fingers.

“You’re promising that if someone were to walk in right now, you wouldn’t panic? You wouldn’t pull away?” His voice was tightly controlled, his cop mask on his face. But she realized that she could still read him, as hard as he tried to hide from her. The signs were all there. In the way he held his jaw at that slight angle, the way his hands tightened then relaxed. The way he clipped his words. He was afraid he’d lost her. Might lose her still.

“I’m not going anywhere. Honest.”

From behind, cool, calloused hands encircled her waist. Dillon slipped his hands beneath the fabric of her tee and flattened over her belly, pulling her until his cock pressed hard against the small of her back.

Sandwiched between the two of them, she wondered how she could have considered walking away from them. From this. Their adulation. Their passion.

Glancing over her shoulder at Dillon, she smiled, hoping to see him return it. Though the erection pressed into her back left no doubt as to his passion, his eyes were dark, almost unreadable. She turned to face him, looping her arms around his neck. “You can change the name of the Double Bar to the Triple Bar or announce it in the
Sun-Times
if you want. I’m here for good.”

Something flickered across his face. He couldn’t control his emotions the way Brett could. He’d never had to. Hope. Perhaps. Relief. Maybe. Then his face cleared, and he stepped back.

“I think we need to agree upon some ground rules here.” Whatever his concern had been, he’d resolved it because his voice was firm, the business side of him rising to the surface.

“He’s right. We need rules.” Brett joined him in front of her, his arms folded across his chest.

“First off, the sleeping arrangements,” Dillon announced. “We all sleep together. The bed’s big enough. And our schedules will help out.”

Brett nodded. “Agreed.”

They both looked at her. “I can live with that. But if one of you starts snoring, the other two have the right to kick the other out.”

They headed out of the barn and back to the house. As they walked, Dillon snickered. “Hey, Brett, if the snorer is gettin’ kicked out, I guess that means you and me will be sleepin’ together most nights, while Nik’s in the guest bedroom sleepin’ all alone.”