Brotherhood of Fire (14 page)

"I'm so tired. I feel muscles I didn't know I had." Carrie whined into Garrett's shoulder where she snuggled with him on the couch, coffee in hand.
He rattled the paper in his other hand and kissed her forehead absentmindedly, still reading. She laughed. Then yawned.
"Okay, nap. I'm taking a long one, after you leave for work at noon."
Garrett's head snapped around at that. "Nap?"
"Uh oh. That was a little jealous. And yeah, nap. I'm tired."
"Hmm. And I'm not jealous."
"Garrett?"
"What?"
"What's up?"
"Nothing, I'm fine," he grunted, going back to the paper.
He wasn't, but she let it go. He'd been that way the entire morning. Quiet, serious. She buried her face in his T-shirt, one of his old, faded ones that he'd had so long it almost retained his scent even after she washed it. She loved how he smelled, warm, a little woodsy, like fresh rain in a forest.
The problem wasn't a big mystery. That he wouldn't talk about it, attempted to pretend nothing needed discussing, that was the thing that kept her from just saying it out loud and forcing the issue. That, and the honest confusion she felt herself. No one broached the subject of how long, what if. The idea of John leaving because Garrett had to work made her belly tie in knots and yet, at the same time, offered an easy solution. Being left alone with a man not her husband, a man she had feelings for that were becoming hard to mask, made her cringe with anxiety as much as him leaving with no plan to come back did.
"Do you think that we've been a little bit ridiculous with this?"
"What do you mean by ridiculous?" He turned his full attention to her.
"Acting like sex-starved maniacs, rutting all over like a bunch of freaks for three days. Hell, on the kitchen island and every other room in the house."
"Don't, Carrie. Don't start criticizing yourself for something you want, something you're enjoying. This is making us all happy. Just because it's a little wild doesn't mean it's wrong. We're testing each other out, sure. We're a little crazed right now, but we're still spending a lot of time doing other things too."
"You're right. Still hard to put it into terms that don't seem flat out crazy."
"Then don't. Don't try to qualify it, just feel, Carrie, just enjoy."
Wishing it were that simple, she smiled, closing the subject. "Fine. Whatever you say, dear."
"Good. Now shh. I'm reading the paper."
Snuggling deeper into him, she yawned again, mind still reeling with questions. She had almost fallen asleep against his shoulder when he jostled her. "Hey, sleepyhead. I have to go get ready."
"Already?" She pouted. "This is nice, snuggling up with you."
He leaned in and kissed her, long, sweet and gentle. When he finally broke away, he sighed.
"Sweetheart, talk to me, don't hold it in. Where are you at with everything?"
He gave her a grin that she saw right through. His eyes were guarded, the shadows beneath them from lack of sleep not helping him hide the concern they held.
"With what? Us?"
"Duh, Garrett. Going to work today is bothering you. We haven't discussed any of this. Have you changed your mind at all about us being together?"
He sighed and leaned back, rubbing his eyes. "No, I haven't changed my mind. You listening a few minutes ago when I told you to relax and enjoy?" He sat back up and chucked her on the chin, then tried to slide out from under her.
She put her hands on his shoulders, holding him in place so she looked into his face while she talked. "I was listening, but that was something else. Do you want him here full time, right now, right out of the gate? Because you feel tense. Really tense."
His eyes darkened at her words. She saw the flash of pain that he hid from her, the way he looked away when he knew she was sizing him up. He kept his head averted and continued the lie.
"I'm okay. Really." He slid her the rest of the way off his lap and onto the couch. He kissed her nose, put the paper on the table, and stood. "I heard John finish his shower. I'm going to take mine and get ready. I'm good, Carrie, I'm fine."
When he came back down, so did John, both of them filing into the kitchen where she sat. Garrett looked the same as when he'd been talking to her, as he had all morning. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor and shuffled over to get another cup of coffee for the road. John jerked his head toward him in question. She shrugged. No way she'd expose Garrett's unease when he wouldn't even admit to it with her alone. Another sign that there was so much they'd left unresolved with this.
Her husband's turmoil mirrored her own, some of the reasons were the same, some she knew were at complete odds. The idea of admitting to Garrett she wanted more, that the man he was going to leave her home alone with was one she might very well be falling in love with seemed all wrong, impossible. He had enough trouble with the idea of them here together when everything was still centered around the three of them just having sex. What would happen when it shifted to something more? If it even did. Her instincts told her John had deeper feelings than he was willing to let them know, but her insecurity had her second-guessing, wondering if that may be wishful thinking on her part. He had certainly made no move to make things clear.
"Hey, Garrett, uh, we should maybe make some arrangements, set some guidelines here. I mean, I'm here in your home. I don't want to be a wedge or assume anything."
"Nothing to assume. You're welcome here; we asked you to come and I'm not going back on it." Garrett leaned against the counter, legs crossed, looking much more casual than his tone said he felt.
"I remember, but you don't seem too comfortable. We never talked about when you were working."
"I'll be fine. Just . . . ." He took a deep breath. "Nothing, I'm good."
A long silence stretched between them. Holding her tongue, Carrie considered the fact that nothing she could say was going to help. The two men had to feel their own way through this, and she had to accept she was along for the ride no matter what was decided.
John cleared his throat and came to rest at the island across from where Garrett leaned on the counter. "Don't try to hide it if me staying bothers you. If I'm in the way, I can deal. Just say it. You might love watching me touch your wife when you're with us, but I don't think you feel the same about handing her over to me and walking out the door, and that's cool. We haven't exactly talked about where we're going with this." John's face was concerned, his voice soothing, and she appreciated his calm softness in this moment. Even more, she appreciated his words; finally, someone had said it.
Garrett wasn't as pleased. His face twitched, and he appeared frustrated that his friend read him so well. "You're not in the fucking way; you're supposed to be here. I'm supposed to want you to be here, this was all my idea! We shouldn't have to discuss it. Just, shit, the idea of leaving, fuck, you two together without me—god, I can't fucking stand, it all right?" He gave a disgusted little laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm being a dickhead. A shitty husband and shittier friend."
"No, you're not, man," John muttered.
The pain on Garrett's face twisted her heart. Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face in his neck, soothing herself with the contact as much as she wanted to soothe him.
"There's nothing wrong with how you feel. You're being honest; that's what you're supposed to be."
"I know, but this isn't what I asked you to do. I asked you to take him in, all the way in, and you did. I pushed you both, and now I'm the one backing down. Calling a halt the minute I run into something I didn't plan on because I was thinking with my dick."
"Fuck that, you aren't doing anything to stop this, Garrett. You feel how you feel. Carrie's your god damned wife and that's the end of it." John's face had gone as twisted and dark as Garrett's, but his was filled with disappointment, not worry.
John looked at her briefly, then dropped his eyes and went into the living room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen alone.
Garrett sucked in a deep breath and rubbed her arms, his gaze following John where he paced in the other room. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. This is part of it, right? Adjusting, getting used to each other. We've all been glued together for three days now. It's true, we've never talked about anything besides when the three of us were all together. It isn't just hard for you, you know."
His eyebrows knitted together, the self-pity disappearing in a new look of concern. "What do you mean?"
"For one, I'll be alone with him, and it makes me nervous. Not because of him, but because it's not you. And if I were you, leaving you alone with some other woman, that would be damn near impossible."
"You're more jealous than me though." He managed a halfhearted grin.
"Am not, jerk." She laughed and leaned into him, putting her forehead against his chest. The confused swirl of needing Garrett to feel secure railed at her own selfish thoughts, at her desire to test out spending time alone with John, trying to figure out what he thought of all of this. Conflict in her head or not, her heart belonged to Garrett.
"I love you. Before all of this and in spite of all this, you're my husband, my rock. John is your friend. We'll do whatever you need us to do. Maybe we've rushed too much, we should ease into this more. Do you want him to go?"
"No. I don't." He pulled her closer, and his comforting strength, the warmth of his arms and the beat of his heart in that warm, solid chest met her senses.
"How about you? Will you be okay staying here with him?"
She felt the slightly queasy rush of something that was just out of her comfort zone, something you weren't sure you were ready for but didn't want to resist.
"I think so. If you think it's right. What about you, you sure?"
"Yeah. I can get through this. I like the idea of you not being alone, knowing he's here. Always bothered me all those nights you spend by yourself. Him being here makes it so I don't have to worry. Maybe if we take things slow like you said, him just being here at first, me knowing he's here but you guys not . . . uh, just don't . . . ." He scrubbed his hand through his hair and over the back of his neck, looking up at her from under his thick, dark lashes.
She melted into him, filled with more love for him at that moment than ever.
"We won't, I promise. I don't think I'm ready for that either. But how about if we're waiting for you when you get home tomorrow?"
"Oh, fuck yeah. That would be nice." He smiled, loosening up a little.
"Tell you what . . . even better, call me tonight if you don't go out on any calls. Just the two of us, okay?"
"That sounds good. Okay, I have to go." He gave her a brief hug before he straightened up to leave.
John came back into the room, his bag over his shoulder. "Hey, I'm going to go. I don't want this to get weird."
"No." Garrett stood, his voice forceful. "We're going to work this out. I want you to stay. You need to stay here with her, I mean, if you still want to. We talked and the two of us agreed, uh—"
"I won't even touch her." John finished for him. "Yard work needs done; I'll put my energy there." He winked at her, clapped Garrett on the back, dropped his bag, and headed to the back yard.
"Love you," she whispered into Garrett's ear.
"Love you too," he said, kissing her softly.

No sense dodging her feelings, pretending she didn't want to walk out there and join him. Allowing the screen door to bang behind her, she steeled her nerves and heading across the back yard. John was shirtless, his muscled torso slick with sweat, tanned and gold in the late afternoon sun while he finished up with the mowing. She walked slowly to him and handed him the bottle of water she'd gotten from the fridge as he turned the mower off.

He took the bottle from her with a slight grin. "You going to survive the night?" "Is it that obvious I'm nervous?"
He leaned back into the picnic table and crossed his legs. Her eyes traveled from

the worn work boots up the frayed jeans to his hard, bared belly, muscles rippling under the fine sheen of sweat on his skin. Finally, she made it up to his blue eyes that were crinkled at the corners with the smirk he had watching her take him in. The familiar rush hit her, but this time countered by the need for something calmer, steadier.

"Only because I'm just as twisted up." He laughed. "Kind of nerve wracking. We haven't spent much time alone, and well, here we are."
"I can't wait until we get to the point where we just spend time together and it's not strange."
He stopped for a moment, bottle halfway to his lips, before he recovered. He didn't hide the fact he was pleased. "I'm looking forward to that, too. Being comfortable like you two are. Just can't seem to, uh, well, stay off you."
The warm flush rolled up her spine at his words. Instead of letting herself sink into the image of him wrapped around her, she focused on reality.
"He's supposed to call me later, if he feels the need to, um, relieve some stress."
One eyebrow shot up. "Oh? Let me know first; I think I might want to take a run if that happens."
"Sorry, thought you should know."
"Thanks."
They stared each other down, the silence not uncomfortable but not familiar. The opportunity of having him alone, the chance to discover exactly what he thought about all this without the risk of Garrett being there to read too much into things, got the better of her. Ignoring the nerves that made her shiver in the eighty-degree heat, she blurted the question.
"John, why are you here? Besides the obvious, I mean. You said no at first, just like I did."
He took a long drink from his water, then stared at the bottle while he screwed the cap back on. He took so long to answer, she started to shift on her feet, wishing she had something to do with her hands, wishing maybe she hadn't asked.
"I did say no. Because of the risk. Still bothers me, even though this is working out pretty well."
"Me too," she said quietly.
"As for why I'm here—" His face darkened and he looked away. "It's hard for me to answer that. I guess I needed to find out. I just couldn't resist taking the chance. A man can only take so much, you know, when what's being offered is—" He stopped talking and turned back to her, eyes bright.
Find out what?
Did he have feelings for her? A thrill ran through her at the idea. Followed right down by a flash of fear. What the hell were they talking about here? "What were you going to say?"
His gaze zeroed in on her, his face rough and full of emotion, his jaw muscles tense and twitching as he watched her.
"You admitting how much I turned you on that day on the porch . . . hell, I don't think a saint could have walked away from you. I know
I
sure as hell couldn't."
Before she could get any words out, he cleared his throat, picked up the water bottle, put it down again. "What do you want? I don't think it's just sex, even though you sure seem to enjoy that part. I mean . . . man, that sounded bad." He shook his head, laughing. "Hell, I mean, you aren't the type to just throw a guy in your bed. Did you just do this for Garrett? I don't want to have any confusion between us, any misunderstanding. Needs to be clear what this is so no one goes the wrong direction with this."
The words terrified her, but his tone soothed her. She realized that was one of the things she'd come to rely on from him. Tough, strong, a hard-bodied, adrenaline junkie ', just like Garrett. But unlike her husband, who tended to be more rough and edgy, John's demeanor with her was gentle. He talked things out, questioned, soothed.
That was the problem. That was where the hard knot of fear in her belly came from. She found herself needing this, needing him, wanting to tell him that what she wanted was for him to say he'd stay and never leave. Not that he didn't want things to go the wrong direction. She sighed.
I'm falling in love with you, that's what's going on.
"I
was
shocked when he first suggested this, but the idea seemed exciting at the same time. Then every time I was with you, at the bar, I, I just couldn't resist after you . . . ." She sighed, feeling worse than naked. He'd seen her body; now she was exposing her inner thoughts, something before now she only did with Garrett. Easy with her husband, baring herself to John was intimidating.
"This wasn't for Garrett, no. I feel guilty thinking it, but when he told me to imagine you in our little fantasy, well, I already was. Once we were all together, I stopped worrying what you would think, if it was wrong. Now I worry about what happens if it doesn't work out. What happens to you? To us?"
"If it looks like this is going to drive a wedge between you, if this will be a risk to your marriage, don't worry; I would never try to hold onto you, I'll step back."
Her breath caught that he'd so easily agree to bow out. That he made no attempt to explain his own feelings. All the more reason to keep her mouth shut and keep her true feelings to herself. John hadn't said losing her would hurt him; his only thought was for Garrett. But of course that made sense. He'd obviously care about his best friend, the guy who had offered up his wife to him.
She couldn't stop the flush from creeping up to her face or hide the nervous way she twisted her hands together. She watched him assess her stance, her reaction.
"I'm breaking the rule here, but I'm not going to do anything more than hold you."
Eyes intense and serious, he tossed the bottle of water to the ground and strode the several feet between them with purpose. When he moved like that, mind set on taking charge of what he wanted, it washed away his gentleness and made her feel everything would be okay. One big hand cupped her chin, he pulled her into his chest, and kissed the top of her head.
"Tell me what else, what are you afraid of? I don't like to see you twisted up like this."
He could tell how she was feeling? Not only that, but he cared enough to hold her, to soothe her. To hell with holding back. If her feelings were going the wrong way, he would figure it out soon enough. Better just to get the embarrassment over with, and make sure the revelation didn't come out for the first time when they were in front of Garrett and make things twice as bad.
"I'm not sure where I stand with you. One minute I think you're . . . well, you seem to feel . . . ." She sighed. "Then the next minute you are closed up and walking away, like you did at the cabin."
He let loose with a rush of air, something between a sigh and a snort. "You got up and ran out of bed when you woke up alone with me. Shit, I wouldn't have hurt you, wouldn't have done anything. I was just reaching out to hold you."
"What? Oh, god, I didn't even know you were awake. I was just nervous. I woke up, we were alone, and I didn't know what to do. I-I would have stayed. I wanted to, I just got scared. But then you walked away! Just like you said you would a minute ago. You want to know what I'm afraid of? I don't want you to give up that easy. To treat this like something you can walk away from if it gets too hard!" Burying her face in his chest, she hung on and hoped he wouldn't turn away.
"It's not what you're thinking. Not even close."
"Then you better tell me what
you
are thinking, because I can't stand not knowing anymore. You said you don't want any feelings to go the wrong way . . . well, mine already have!"
His arms pulled her in tighter, his lips brushed her cheek. Chest rising slowly beneath her, he gave a low, groaning sigh, as if he anticipated this being painful.
"By the wrong way, I meant, fuck, I meant
my
feelings, not yours. Damn, woman, I've been in love with you since, shit, since forever!" He gave a loud snort of a laugh. Pulling her closer, he buried his face in her hair. "I didn't expect this, never could have dreamed it. I mean, when you first walked into the firehouse, I'd already met Garrett, we'd worked together what, a month? Then I saw you. Damn, my gut fell on the floor right then and there. You just took my breath away. The love you pour out on him is, ah, hell, I craved it; I won't lie. I kept my feelings to myself. I mean, he's my best friend, and I'd never betray him. Like I could fucking tell him I was in love with you. The day Garrett sat down and asked me about this, I about lost my mind. I was afraid to hope I could have even a little of what you two had. I didn't think having any part of you would ever be real. Until I felt you, until now."
Something like what a hurricane must sound like went off in her head. All she heard was buzzing, static, the beating of her heart, the churning in her belly, the heave of breath fighting to fill her lungs.
He pulled back and checked her over, a look of concern covering his handsome face. "Hey, whoa, take a breath; you look like you're going to pass out."
"God, I didn't—"
"Shh, take a second here."
Concentrating on her breathing, she settled into him, muscles tight and trembling, nerves popping off like firecrackers.
He loved her. He had loved her before he ever touched her.
And she had fallen in love with him. Tears of relief and fear and joy, all rolled into one, welled in her eyes.
"Ah, shit. Went and did it now, didn't I?"
"Did what?" She sniffed as he gently wiped her tears with his thumbs.
"Went too far, blurted too much crap, dumped my heart out on my sleeve again, and scared you. Shit, that's the problem; I can't keep what I'm thinking in my head. I should have kept my fucking mouth shut instead of putting you on the spot. I'm sorry; I should have never pushed that on you. I thought, I, uh, I thought—"
Watching him talk, she realized he was dead serious. He didn't meet her eyes, and his face had gotten tight, closed off. His blue eyes nearly boiled with intensity, the strong line of his jaw clamped down, the muscle twitching slightly, his body tense and tight. It melted her that such a big, muscular, self-possessed man would tremble at the thought of being vulnerable to her.
The fear that had kept her from telling him fell away as easily as the tears she shed.
"I do love you; you're not wrong. And I love that you say exactly what you feel! It's always going to be okay to do that with me,
always
, so don't ever stop doing it. Hell, not knowing these last few days was awful. I needed to know. That's not why I'm upset."
His body seemed to sag as he took in her words, the relief showing in the way he relaxed into her.
"What you just said, you have no idea what that means. Do you know how many women have turned away from me because they wanted a big, tough ', not some guy who cries at movies?"
His arms tightened around her to the point she wondered if he was going to let her breathe. If not for all the warm, hard, bare muscle—and the thought banging around in her head like a pinball—distracting her, she might have minded.
He loved her.
"Sweetheart, you
are
a big, tough '." She managed a slight, watery giggle. "I love everything about you, you know that?"
He let go of a low, satisfied moan and buried his face in her neck, mumbling against her skin. "Then why the tears? Garrett?"
She leaned her forehead on his chest, nodding shakily.
He straightened up and cupped her chin, raising her eyes to his. "This is going to be fine. Garrett's a smart guy; he wouldn't have pushed if he didn't think we could handle this. I can deal with whatever comes. I'm just happy the ride so far has been as great as it has, and I hope you are too. I never thought I'd be saying I'm happy sharing a woman with my best friend, but god damn, I have to tell you this is the best thing I've ever done."
He flashed one of his killer grins at her, and she felt her belly drop out. She fell silent, words failing her as the emotional roller coaster this conversation had her on took its toll. Forgotten were the fears of losing him. His words filled her with a seductive satisfaction this man wanted her, wanted this. The problem now became not if John wanted her, but how would the other man she loved—the man she'd married, committed her life to—accept that idea?
They stood together, wrapped in each other with an easy comfort. She could feel his heart beating in his chest, his breath on her hair, his hands softly stroking her back. She sighed and settled into him. When she moved closer, she nudged the distinct hard bulge that rode low against her belly, and she had to giggle that it never seemed to go down.
He let go of a deep, belly laugh, as if they were sharing the same unspoken thought. "I have to go take a shower. A really long, cold one, sweetheart, before I push you up against the wall of the garage and fuck you 'til your eyes roll back in your head. I couldn't be happier right now though. Thank you." He pulled back from her and kissed her softly on the lips before he chucked her on the chin and strode into the house.
All through dinner, even though they kept the conversation light, John telling her jokes and stories until she almost spewed Coke out of her nose, all through cleaning up, even watching TV, all she could think about was the contrast of his sweet emotional side with how dirty he could be when he let his inner sex god out of the closet. The most terrifying part being that what she really wanted was his arms around her. A comfort she had never sought from anyone but Garrett. The craving for John to provide that did a number on her anxiety level. She knew damn well if Garrett was worried about them having sex, he'd likely have a heart attack if he knew she wanted so much more than that. John at least behaved himself; he sat strategically in the armchair, keeping himself away from her.
When the phone rang at nine thirty, she almost jumped out of her skin. She looked to John. He shook his head and grinned, rubbing his hands through his hair. "If this gets hairy, I'm leaving." He laughed.
"Hello?"
"Hey. How's it going?"
"Good. Watching TV."
"Tense?"
She laughed. "Ya think? We're doing all right though, getting to know each other better. John's been telling me ' stories. How about you?"
"Good. Easier now than when I had to leave. As weird as it sounds, it feels right he's there with you. Getting out the door was the hard part."
Relief washed over her. The implications of her conversation with John earlier didn't seem so farfetched at hearing Garrett settling into this.
"Yeah? Good. I'm glad. I don't want you to be twisted up over this. I'll do anything you need me to do. You know I will."
His voice got low, a little quiet. "Anything? I mean, what if I said we had to end this?"
The shockwave that went through her registered in the heated flush she felt, the tight knot in her belly, her gasp. She looked to John. He sat there smiling, clueless as to what Garrett had just said to her. She remembered to breathe and pinched her eyes shut, unable to keep looking at him, the hope she harbored slipping away as she answered her husband, the man she had to be loyal to.