Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro (17 page)

She ran her tongue across her lips, knowing she was taking a huge leap of faith and not caring. “But you are.”

“I was twenty-two when my doctor told me I had testicular cancer. I probably could have made a donation to a sperm bank, taken precautions, gone through some less invasive treatments, whatever. But I didn’t. Mostly because my father was dying, and there was a lot of other shit I had resting on my shoulders.”

In that moment her heart broke for him. To be so young, so full of hope and vitality only to have someone hand you what felt like a death sentence.

Lars sighed. “I was engaged to marry a beautiful girl. The perfect wife for a man like me with familial commitments out the ass.”

“Then?” She almost didn’t want to ask. Selena had told her about this woman, but Mattie’s instant hatred of Lars’s nameless, faceless former fiancée was instant and senseless.

“I wanted it all,” he whispered. “The home, the life of making money for my family’s company and living up to my name. I wanted the doting wife and kids to spoil. Then she left. Said she couldn’t see herself living life with a husband who was less than a man.”

Owen stirred as if brought to awareness by Lars’s obvious distress. The way Lars watched him was like a knife in Mattie’s gut. How had she managed to get tangled up with two people who were so unavailable to her?

“Owen was the first person to see me differently. To make me want to see myself differently.” In anyone else she would have called his expression wistful. “It wasn’t that I didn’t love you, Mattie. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share a home and a family and a life with you. It was that I couldn’t. I couldn’t give you those things, and I couldn’t bear the moment when you’d come to look at me the way
she
did.”

Shock left Mattie speechless. He loved her? He wanted a family with her? She could’ve leaped with joy had she not been so conflicted. What about Owen? Giving in to desire, she let her fingers trace a light path down Owen’s spine. “How can you love me when you so obviously love him? I can’t give you what he does.”

“That’s the beauty of it.” Lars gazed at her with such warmth she felt it like a physical caress. “You don’t have to give me what he does. He can do that himself. Owen was the one who made me see that.”

A thousand things went through her mind all at once, and Mattie hunched into a little ball and clasped her arms around her legs to gain a moment to think. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t harbored a certain list of fantasies about what Lars was suggesting. After having sex with him and Owen, it was impossible not to, but the reality of a kinky sexual experience wasn’t the same as a long-term commitment that involved three sets of emotions.

“You’ve thought about it, I know you have,” Lars chided. “Don’t look as though you’re completely blown away by the notion.”

“Except I
am
blown away.” She had good reasons for that, so how come she was uncomfortable trying to explain them to Lars? “Ever since I was little I’ve had this picture in my head of what it will be like to raise a family. What that will look like, you know?”

Lars’s expression turned bitter. “And letting both of us love you doesn’t fit into your ideal?”

This wasn’t about her rejecting them. Why did he immediately have to assume it was? “I know this sort of lifestyle works for people. I’ve seen it with Selena and with her friend Leslie, and I’ve been glad to know that the world is getting a little more open-minded. But it’s not there yet. It’s still a hard life to lead. A decision you have to defend every single day. Do you really want that? Because I’m not sure I do.” On the other hand, was she willing to walk away from both of them just because she didn’t want to be “the girl with the two husbands”?

He stood up as if he couldn’t sit still any longer. He clenched his fingers in his hair and growled. “When did you turn into a woman who lets other people’s opinions define her decisions?”

“So you want me to believe you’re ready to explain to your mother that not only are you unable to father children of your own, but you’re going to raise a few who belong to the man and woman you’re living with but can’t marry because the state doesn’t recognize polygamy?” It pissed her off that he was going to stand there and judge her for something he hadn’t even thought all the way through.

Lars sighed, gazing at Owen’s sleeping form as if he had the answer to their relationship issues. “So where do we go from here?”

Mattie wished she knew. Why did everything have to be so complicated? She was so close to her dream. A man to love her, give her children, fill her life with happiness and warmth. Except any future with Lars was a package deal.

Owen stretched in his sleep. She stared at his beautiful body. His strength was evident in every ridge and angle. The hands resting lightly on the mattress were relaxed, but Mattie remembered what they felt like against her skin. She recalled every touch. From the beginning, she had felt as though she knew Owen. As if she’d known him in this life and the one before. Why was the idea of being with both Lars and Owen so impossible to imagine?

Mattie clenched her fists to keep her hands at her sides. “I have to go to work.”

For the span of two seconds, she thought Lars might argue. Then he reached out and gave Owen’s leg a light tug. “Hey.”

Owen stretched and rolled from his stomach to his back. The sheets tangled in his long legs, and Mattie had to fight back the urge to climb up and snuggle in next to him. He wasn’t hers. She wasn’t his. Turning her back, she grabbed clean clothes and hurried into the bathroom.

OWEN BLINKED THE heaviness of sleep from his eyes and took in Lars’s tight expression. A huge yawn caught Owen by surprise. “What’s up? Meecham come back?”

“Not that I know of.” Lars gazed out the window. “Mattie has to go to work, and so do I.”

“I’ll tag along with her and keep an eye out for a few hours.” Owen rolled to his back and sat up. He’d gotten far better sleep in the last two hours in Mattie’s bed than he generally did in six hours in his own suite beneath Triptych. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Lars shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable. “I talked to Mattie about a relationship between all three of us.”

“And?”

Perching on the edge of the bed, Lars seemed as if he was trying to decide on the best way to deliver bad news. “She wants a regular life with regular relationships. She doesn’t want to have to defend her choice to live an alternative lifestyle, and she thinks I’m fooling myself that I could ever be happy with it either.”

Owen waited for the straight shot of bitterness to flood his system, but it never came. In its place was determination. He had no intention of giving up that easily. Whatever reservations Mattie had were understandable, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

Lars frowned. “Do you hear what I’m telling you?”

“Yep.” Owen stood up and reached for his clothes. “I’m just wondering why you’d let that stop you from making her realize the benefits to being with us far outweigh whatever crap she might get from people whose opinions don’t matter anyway.”

“I have to admit that’s not what I expected you to say.” Lars’s rueful chuckle warmed Owen’s heart.

Owen hopped a little to pull his pants up before fastening them low on his hips. He started to yank his shirt over his head but stopped when Lars drew him in for a hug.

A wave of rightness left Owen feeling more determined than ever. Lars was such a curious blend of strength and vulnerability. He was confident, intelligent, and successful, yet he needed Owen and Mattie as much as they needed him. They just had to convince Mattie how true that was, and Owen intended to spend the day trying to get his point across.

Chapter Fourteen

Mattie adjusted the drape of a purple scarf she’d used to add a splash of color to her display before turning back to the painting she was working on. From the corner of her eye she watched Owen casually drinking coffee from a large paper cup. He’d disappeared not long after they’d arrived at her stall on Artists’ Row. When he’d returned, he’d been carrying two huge coffees and a bag of cinnamon-raisin bagels from a shop around the corner.

She had thought it would be uncomfortable having him hanging around doing nothing, but it wasn’t anything like she’d expected. His silent presence was soothing. There was no pressure to have inane conversation while she worked. She sat at an easel in the sunlight that dappled the sidewalk in front of her stall. Owen was settled comfortably on a chair in the shade, one boot propped up on the edge of a wooden tub she’d filled with colorful geraniums.

A couple of young women wandered toward them. Mattie had to admit the only drawback to having Owen around was also a perk. He attracted females like a flower drew bees. She’d had more customers that morning than she’d had in the previous three, but they were all women.

The tall blonde sneaked a look at Owen before giving Mattie a beatific smile. “Is that painting for sale?” She gestured to the one on the easel.

“Actually, this one is already sold.” Mattie set down her brush and wiped her hands on a rag. “I have a similar piece right back here, although it is a little larger.”

The statuesque woman with the long legs and narrow hips shook back her fall of shimmery corn-silk hair. “I’d
love
to see it.”

She and her equally attractive redheaded friend made a big show of squeezing past Owen. The blonde placed her hand on his broad shoulder and murmured an apology as she brushed her breasts against his arm.

An instant desire to rip out the woman’s hair and use it to strangle her took Mattie completely by surprise. She wasn’t usually possessive, especially not about a man who wasn’t really hers. Feeling uneasy, she slid off her stool and followed the women toward the painting.

“I think I like the colors better in this one than the new one.” The redhead actually seemed interested in the art. Her blonde friend hadn’t yet managed to take in the painting since it would’ve meant she had to stop staring at Owen.

Mattie intentionally engaged the blonde. “Were you looking for something for your home or office?”

“Uh, home.” Her gaze finally flickered toward Mattie and the huge canvas depicting the sunset over the Marblehead lighthouse. “I’ll take it.”

“It’s $1750,” Mattie said drily. “Would you like me to wrap it up?”

“Sure.”

The redhead rolled her eyes and then offered Mattie a grin. “Since we’re roommates, I’m going to consider this sudden desire to buy art as being to my benefit.”

Mattie bobbed her head and ran the credit card the blonde handed off. The name on the card was Isabel Adams-Channing. Her first name was vaguely familiar, though Mattie couldn’t have said where she’d heard it. She didn’t know any Isabels.

“I wonder if he’s single.” Isabel gestured to Owen. “I wish I could meet a guy like that.”

The redhead sighed. “Don’t you have a date with Lars this Friday night?”

Mattie froze, almost dropping the paper slip before she could fumble it onto the tiny countertop.
Lars?
How many guys named Lars could there be in the area? She could sense Owen’s attention now focused on their conversation as well.

Isabel signed the slip with a flourish. “Lars is my
mother’s
idea of a perfect husband, just like I’m
his
mother’s idea of a good wife for him. Just once I’d like to be with someone not of my mother’s choosing.” She raked Owen with her gaze, lingering over his broad shoulders and firm thighs. “Someone like him.”

“Sorry, but you can’t have him.” A brittle grin spread across Mattie’s face. “He’s mine.”

Something dark rose up inside of Mattie. Her pulse pounded in her neck, and blood rushed in her ears. She’d told Lars just a few hours before she didn’t want to be the “girl with two husbands.” Maybe she still didn’t, but what she hadn’t taken into account was whether or not she could stand the idea of
not
being with Owen and Lars. Much less what would happen if they were with some other woman.

“Guess you’ll just have to be satisfied with Lars,” the redhead said. “You really shouldn’t be so picky. The guy is smoking hot.”

Mattie’s palms grew sweaty, and she swiped them down the leg of her baggy jeans before wrapping the canvas in brown paper and tying it up with twine. “I’m sorry, but are you two talking about Lars Aasen?”

Owen had risen from his seat outside and was headed in their direction with deliberate casualness.

Isabel looked taken aback. “Yes, why?”

“I wasn’t aware he was dating anyone.” Mattie tightened the chain on her inner bitch, telling herself she couldn’t rip the girl apart without a few more details.

“We were engaged years and years ago.” A flush crept up Isabel’s neck. “His mother set it up, so I’m not sure if we’re a couple or not.” Two delicate lines appeared between her eyebrows. “And I’m really not sure why I’m telling you this since it’s none of your business.”

Owen’s deep voice saved Mattie from trying to decide what to say. “We’re well acquainted with Lars. He’s never mentioned the two of you getting back together.”

Isabel looked alarmed. “But you knew we were engaged before?”

“And why you broke it off too.” Mattie was practically vibrating with the force of her anger. This was the woman who’d left Lars and made him feel like nothing. A woman who’d ditched him at the exact moment he’d needed her most.

“I think I’m going to go.” Isabel awkwardly gathered up her painting, shooing her confused-looking friend out of the stall. “Thank you.”

Mattie watched her go. Isabel had already disappeared from sight when Mattie realized she had a death grip on Owen’s arm. Blushing, she uncurled her fingers from his triceps. How could he look so calm when they’d just been handed evidence that their third was basically cheating on them?

And our relationship isn’t even official yet.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Owen’s rough-edged voice made her feel warm and gooey inside despite her tension.

It really wasn’t a question of what she was thinking. It was more about how she could order the constant flow in her head so Owen could comprehend it.