Three Rings and a Rose (7 page)

I don’t know that I would be polite if I were in your shoes. My
sisters are being first-class bitches.
Of course, Ella knew why. When it came to being protective of her, they could be evil and flat-out scary. As the youngest sister, she’d been treated like the baby who they needed to coddle and watch over for years. The only person who had it worse than she did was Tate, and that was because he was the true baby of the Dawson clan, which meant all of them were protective of him—including her.

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“There’s no excuse for you,” Reagan muttered childishly, sounding like the ginormous pain-in-the-ass she was. “Trust me. Your stupid-ass excuses ran out three weeks ago.” Now that brought Micah to life. His face turned four shades of red, and he snapped, “Shut up, Reagan.”

Hadley spun on her heel and, like Molly-Grace, stalked out of the room. But she had one parting comment as she left their presence in a giant huff. “We’ll shut up—when you start talking.”

“Yeah,” Reagan said. Hopping up, she sauntered out of the room, appearing to not have a care in the world—even after she’d just been acting like a snot-nosed brat. And a second later, the doorbell chimed, indicating that someone had left the building, presumably her pain-in-the-ass sisters.

Between Ella’s agitation and exhaustion, it was all too much, and her legs felt weak and wobbly. Trying to avoid falling, she hurried over to the couch and dropped back down.

“Micah,” she said. “Please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t bear to lose you like I lost Caedon. I–I–I don’t have anyone in my life that I care about the way I do you.” She sighed. “I love you.”
If only you
knew how much.

They’d told each other many, many times how much they loved each other. Only, Micah had no clue that she meant far more than as a friend, and she couldn’t exactly tell him because she was a big ole wussy. She couldn’t risk losing him, not even to give her feelings the freedom they deserved. Nothing was worth not having Micah in her life.

Unfortunately, she knew she would be left alone if he found out the truth. A gay man didn’t just change into a straight one overnight—

no matter how much she wished it.

Joining her on the couch, Micah jerked her into his side. There was an intense desperation in the movement. They’d always been affectionate, but this was different. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there.

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“I love you, too,” Micah replied with a drawn-out sigh. Cupping her jaw, he turned her face to his. She met his eyes, the sparkling depths sucking the air from her lungs. “Ella, I have something to tell you. It’s something I should have told you long ago. “I’m not g—” Whatever he’d been about to say never came out of his mouth because a movement in the doorway caught her attention, and she pulled her head out of his grasp and spun it to the right. “Caedon.”

* * * *

Of course
. Micah felt like cursing when he saw Caedon Asher standing in the doorway, his big, hulking, sinfully sexy body eating up the entire space. So he did. “Motherfucker.” Loosening his grip on Ella, Micah lurched to his feet and stalked toward Caedon, who stood there.

By the time he made it halfway to Caedon, Ella stopped him short.

“Don’t you dare, Micah,” she snapped. “You need to back the fuck off. I’m sure he has a good reason for being here. So let’s hear it and then he can get his ass out of town.”

Micah didn’t agree with her. He didn’t want to hear whatever it was.
Because I know exactly why he’s here. He’s here for Ella.
And at the moment, Micah hated him for it. The bastard had come back, and he’d timed it perfectly, too. Micah finally gets the balls to tell Ella he wasn’t gay. Then what happens? Fate conspired against him, and the one man guaranteed to keep him from Ella reappeared in their life.

The one man you want for your own.
The one man who doesn’t want
you for his own.

Since the day he’d met Caedon, Micah had loved him. They’d had an instant connection. A weird one that he’d had to push aside, to pretend didn’t exist. Of course, the sexy man wasn’t interested in him.

Micah was an ornery writer who penned military stories that he would never read, and Caedon was a famous actor who could have any woman or
man he wanted. If that wasn’t enough to keep them apart,
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there was Ella. How could he come between her and the man she loved? He couldn’t do that to her. He’d rather spend his life alone in misery than hurt his best friend. She meant the world to him, and he wouldn’t be the one to take her world from her.

Pausing midstride, Micah growled, “Why,” then whipped his head to the side and peered over his shoulder at the breathtaking woman sitting on the couch. “He doesn’t deserve to be here, Ella. We all know that.” Returning his irate stare to Caedon, he sneered, “He needs to go back to wherever the hell he came from. I’m sure they would actually want him there.”

Caedon scowled. “Enough,” he barked. “This is silly. We’re all adults here, and we need to act like it. I think it’s time for us to talk—

about a lot of things.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Micah declared. But he was lying.

He did have something to say to him. He had a lot of somethings to say to Caedon, yet he couldn’t get them out. The only things he managed to get passed his lips were stupid, childish, and petty. It was as though he’d reverted back to the little boy on the elementary school playground with a bad attitude and a happy fist.
God I need to stop
this insanity
.

“Well, that’s good because I have a lot to say to you,” Caedon announced as he advanced into the room with a mask of fierce determination on his face. He headed straight toward Micah but stopped suddenly and frowned. “Um—I have a lot to say to both of you.”

Something was off in Caedon’s words. Even more than that, something wasn’t right in his actions. Micah didn’t know what it was.

All he knew was that Caedon had been about to do something. He’d been about to say something—
before
he froze. And damn it, Micah wanted to know what it was, but he didn’t have a chance to utter a single word as Caedon edged around him.

Whirling around, Micah watched as the man he loved marched over to where the woman he loved sat then plopped down beside her
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and pulled her into his side—exactly as Micah had earlier. Only Ella didn’t stay put. She jumped from her seat as though she’d been burned by Caedon’s touch and stormed across the room. Moving to stand beside him, she curled her hand around his and held on tight.

In any other situation, he would be singing the “Hallelujah Chorus.” But this wasn’t any situation. This was a fucking disaster waiting to happen, and he was smack in the middle of it. And so was Ella.

Micah’s protective instincts kicked in, and he squeezed Ella’s hand reassuringly. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered.

As usual, Ella wasn’t having any of that. She shot back, “You’re damn straight it is. After all this time, he is
not
going to walk in here and turn everything upside down. He is going to explain why he’s here, and we’re going to listen. Then he’s going to go. It’s as easy as that.”

Peeking over at Ella, Micah gave her a once-over, instinctively checking on her well-being. And in that instant, he knew unequivocally that she was dead wrong. This wasn’t easy. No matter what she said or how she acted, his tough girl was hurting.

It could have been her stoic expression, her stiff stature, or her sad eyes. Or it could have been all of the above. It didn’t matter either way. All that mattered to him was that she was in pain. All that counted was that this situation wasn’t going to be easy for any of them—ever—because Caedon
was
walking back in their lives. He
was
turning everything upside down. And he
was not
going to go anywhere. Of that Micah had no doubt.

Caedon grimaced at their show of solidarity but said nothing. And neither did anyone else. The room went silent—painfully so. After what seemed like forever, Ella spoke up. “Seriously, Caedon. Why are you here? What do you want?”

Bending his leg and crossing it over his knee, Caedon reclined against the cushion behind him. He threw his arm across the back of
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the couch and stared straight at Ella with a conceited expression on his too-damned-handsome face.

Caedon appeared to be the picture of ease, and Micah felt the urge to throw something at his swollen head. But once Micah looked closer, the vulnerable light shining in Caedon’s bright blue eyes contradicted everything about his appearance. And for one moment, Micah felt sorry for him. However, Micah’s pity lasted for a split second. When the six words he dreaded most fell from Caedon’s lips, the fleeting feeling disappeared, and it was replaced by hurt, anger, and total panic.

“I’m here for you, Gabriella Embry,” Caedon declared, announcing exactly what Micah had already known, what he’d feared.

Caedon was back, and he wouldn’t stop until Ella was in his arms.

And Micah was left out in the cold—this time for good.

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“My name is not Gabriella Embry,” Ella snarled as she struggled to not club the caveman over the head with the nearest dildo. The bastard had some serious gall, swaggering his sexy ass into her shop, flashing his devil-may-care smile, and spouting off absurd intentions that he had no chance in hell of meeting.

Returning Caedon’s arrogant grin with a smile meant to scare him off, to send him running for the hills, she informed him, “It never was.

That was a showbiz name for a woman who ceased to exist two years ago. I’m Ella Dawson, and I don’t want you to be here for me.”
Liar
. She wanted him to be here for her. Only, she needed him to be here for Micah, too. Even if her best friend wasn’t interested in her, she would love to share him with Caedon.
Whoa, now how the
hell would that work? Would Caedon be in the middle of an Ella and
Micah sandwich? Damn. I like that idea—too much, considering
Caedon didn’t have a bisexual bone in his to-die-for body.

Distracted by her errant thoughts, Ella barely registered Micah releasing her hand. But she did
not
miss the fact that he didn’t let her go completely. Instead, he wound his arm around her waist then rested his big, strong hand on the curve of her hip. The possessive gesture was hot—unbelievably hot. If she didn’t know that he was gay, she would believe that he was showing the other man that she belonged to him.
If only that were true.

Without realizing it, she sighed wistfully. Both men turned their gaze on her—one in surprise and the other in resignation. Micah’s stunned expression nearly did her in, and she had to suppress a laugh.

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Surely he wasn’t completely oblivious. Even if he wasn’t aware of how deep her feelings went, he had to know that he turned her on.

Hell, three and a half months ago, she’d proven that point perfectly. The night before Sarah’s attack, she’d walked in on him as he’d gotten out of the shower. And nothing had been the same for her hormones since.

* * * *

Mid-February…

Rhythmically reciting the lyrics to the rap song she was listening to in her MP3 player, Ella danced down the hallway of the apartment she shared with Micah. She stopped every few steps to shake what the good Lord gave her, and he’d given her a lot. Not that she minded.

Ella loved her fuller figure. She embraced it wholeheartedly, and she owned it without reservation.

Hell, she hadn’t become a plus-size model without believing in the motto “
if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”
So she did whenever she could.

And lucky for her, she was alone right now. She could shake it as much and as often as she wanted without worrying about getting caught.

Ella was in an unbelievably good mood, and she had no reasonable explanation for it. Sure, she’d had dinner with the girls, and that had been a blast. But there was no real reason for her to be in such a terrific mood.
Ah, why the hell am I worrying about it? I
should just enjoy it while it lasts.

Starting to sing fully, Ella spun around and around, probably looking like Julie Andrews in
The Sound of Music
. As soon as she thought of the classic movie she’d loved to watch as a child, her favorite song from the soundtrack came to mind—”Do-Re-Mi.” And despite the bass thumping in her ears, the song got stuck in her head.

Well fuck it. Now I want to hear Julie Andrews sing. Not Nelly.

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Ella chuckled at her musical mind-hopping yet she followed its lead. Lifting her MP3 player to eye level, she shuffled through the songs until she found the one on her mind and clicked play. The show tune blared in her ears, but she didn’t mind—too much.
Okay, maybe
just a little.

It probably would have been smart for her to have decreased the volume and tweaked the bass before starting “Do-Re-Mi
.
”
Listening to loud, thumping rap music was enjoyable. But Julie Andrews with the bass turned up and the volume on high? Not so much.