Fighting for Julia [Panther Cove 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

“Stop it!”

She plastered her hands over her ears to halt the musings.
Like that helps
.

Maybe if she went out with them one time, she’d get them out of her system. She’d surely discover that all they talked about was themselves. She had no doubt that they’d want to discuss military strategy since her fathers now worked directly with Hunter and Derek on fight tactics, and they’d think it a coup to pick her brain. Politics would be their next favorite topic just like it had been her dads’ when she was growing up in the compound.

“Ooh.” Her pussy clenched. She looked down and found she had dipped two fingers into her needy cunt. “Oh, my God.”

This torment had to stop. Not only was it affecting her work, she hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since setting eyes on them.

As quickly as she could, she rinsed and stepped out of the shower. Towel drying as fast as she could to prevent thinking about them personally rubbing her dry, she rushed into her room and pulled on her softest nightgown. The pink and flowered gown had been a present from her grandmother, and it brought her a lot of comfort wearing it to bed. The fact it was ugly made it all that nicer.

After she crawled under the covers, she flipped on the television in the hopes the show would take her mind off of having sex. Her luck, all she could find were stories that involved loving couples.
Yuk
. As long as those two men were stuck in her head, she wasn’t in the mood to be happy for anyone.

* * * *

As soon as Julia pulled in front of her parents’ home, her mood brightened. It had been too long since she’d visited. Even though her mom said she wanted a painting of the lake, Julia had already made something else for her. She’d found an old photo of when she was about six, and had made a painting from it. It showed all four of them standing in the field behind the complex. Harvey, one of her dads, was saddling a small pony for her, while Charles, her other father, was by Mom’s side, his arm wrapped around her waist. Her mother was eight months pregnant with her brother. It had been Julia’s birthday, and this was the first time they were letting her ride. She’d never forget that day. For once, they didn’t seem worried about The Sword attacking.

With her suitcase and present in hand, she strode up to the front door. She set down her case to ring the bell. Right away her mom answered.

“Julia!” Without asking, she grabbed the suitcase. “Come in, darling.” Once her mom set down the case, she gave her a strong hug.

“It’s good to be home.” Julia meant it.

“Let me fix you some lunch, and then you can go out and start that painting I want.”

Her mom was the one who’d encouraged Julia to work on her art, but she never remembered her being anxious to shove her out the door before they had a chance to chat. “I’m here for three days. I have time.”

Her mom brushed her hands down her pants. “But it’s such a nice day. You know how fickle the mountain weather is. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s storming.”

She laughed. While the weather was unpredictable, it wasn’t that bad. “You trying to get rid of me already?”

“Of course not. Come into the kitchen and I’ll fix you a hot coffee.”

“Where are my fathers?” She thought they’d be here.

“They’re at the office.” Her lips thinned.

“Planning more strategy?”

“Yes. There’s been some unrest in Washington, and Charles and Harvey want to make sure we’re safe here.”

“When do they plan on retiring?” They’d worked here for close to eighty years.

“Never, dear. They love Panther Cove and The Shield.”

She’d been proud of Jeremiah and Mario for their willingness to do something else with their lives. They seemed happy. “Maybe I’ll stop by Central Command.”

“You do that, dear. They’ve been looking forward to your visit.”

Since her mom seemed anxious to have her start the picture, after Julia got her coffee, she gathered her art supplies.

“You want a chair to sit on, dear?”

It would be more comfortable to paint sitting on a chair, as the ground would be too cold. “Sounds good. I’ll get one.”

Once she stepped outside, her spirits lifted. Communing with nature made her feel whole. Perhaps she’d get so immersed in her art that she could rid her mind of two particular hunky men. Before she reached the lake, she’d figured out the vantage point that would give her the perfect picture. Not only did she want to capture the fountain in the middle, but she also loved the trellis-covered dock with the comfortable lounge chairs, outdoor kitchen, and warm fireplace. Maybe after she painted, she’d take the rowboat out for a spin.

She set up on the lawn, placed her canvas on the easel and pulled out her pencil to do an outline of the lake. The red and green rowboat tied to the dock added a wonderful element.

She’d completed her preliminary sketch when she heard a commotion behind her. When she turned around, she let out a grunt. What the hell were
they
doing there?

Breck and Daven seemed to have spotted her, and grins broke out on their faces. She would have thought this was a bit contrived except for the fact everyone used this dock and these two did live here.
Uh-huh
. She hoped they didn’t think she’d come just to get a chance to meet up with them.

She gave them a light wave and returned to her painting.

“Well, well. Look who’s here.”

That was Breck. If she didn’t want to appear rude, she had to acknowledge them. “Hi.” She’d never officially been introduced to them, but her upbringing made her extend her hand. “I’m Julia Wilson.”

Daven stuck his hand out first. The moment their palms touched, it was as if a bolt of electricity shot through her body. For a second, she thought he might have had a buzzer in his hand, but she knew a military man wouldn’t stoop to something that low. Besides, they couldn’t have known she’d be out here.

“Davenport Sang, but everyone calls me Daven.”

Breck moved closer and shook her hand. “Are you related to Charles and Harvey Wilson by any chance?”

Since so few people lived here, he had to know she was. “Yes.”

“I’m Breckenridge Sang by the way. We’re in training with Hercules and Casius.”

“Nice to meet you.” Her damn pussy was throbbing and begging for their cocks.
Stupid body.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to create a masterpiece for my mom’s birthday.”

Daven’s brows rose. “Really? That’s so nice of you. When is her special day?”

“Tomorrow.” They’d think she was lying, but her mom said she didn’t care when it was done.

“Mind if we join you?”

Only now did she notice they each had canvases and paints with them. This was public ground so to speak. “Sure.”

Breck unfurled a blanket right next to her. Didn’t the man understand personal space? It would look rude if she asked them to move, and maybe they, too, decided this was the best vantage point. So much for immersing herself in the wonder of her art and forgetting about the men.

* * * *

Too bad neither he nor Daven had a clue about painting. They’d purchased the supplies right after speaking with Mrs. Wilson. To say she was thrilled about their daughter finally finding her mates was an understatement. Even Breck had to admit, he was uncomfortable when she asked how many children they wanted. The number two popped into his head, though he was certainly open for negotiation.

Taking a clue from Julia, they both set their canvases on the easel and began sketching the lake. He and Daven had decided to take it slow and not spook her, so they didn’t say anything and let her do her work.

He really concentrated on getting the scale right. When he finished drawing in the dock, he wanted to erase it all and start again. The dock shouldn’t be larger than half the lake. He glanced over at Daven’s picture. His brother had carefully drawn a grid, probably to make sure the proportions would work.

Using a heavier stroke, Breck drew over his first attempt. Since this painting wasn’t destined to go anywhere but the trash, he decided to begin. Daven’s idea of emptying half of the paint tubes had been brilliant. That way, it wouldn’t look as if this was their first attempt at art. Their mom had encouraged both of them to be more well-rounded, but did they listen? No. Now he wished he knew something about art, theater, and classical music.

Julia began her painting with the trees behind the lake. She blended soft greens, browns, and golden tones to create a softness that evoked romance. His heart ached to make love to her right there. He, too, thought romance needed to play a strong role in a person’s life.

Pass me the green.
His brother’s comment broke him out of his reverie.

The problem was that there were at least five shades of green, not to mention the possibilities of combining blue with yellow. Since Julia was painting the trees, he looked to see what she’d mixed.

“What color is that?”

She waved a brush. “I mixed phthalocyanine blue with cadmium yellow.”

Got that, bro?

Daven pulled the box of paint closer and must have turned over each tube to see if they had those two. “Don’t think I have that blue.”

Breck nearly groaned out loud.
Way to act like a rube
. To save face he picked up a chromium oxide green and handed it to Daven. “Start with this.”

Breck caught the slight lift to her lips. His cock hardened thinking about running his tongue along the seam of her plump lips. He bet she’d taste sweeter than honey.

Julia nodded to his painting. “What kind of style of painting do you prefer?”

Yours
. “I like all kinds.”
Help me out, bro
.

Daven dabbed his brush into the green paint. “We’re more modern in our approach.”

Way to go
. He was hoping for something more specific. If he’d said he like post-modernism, she might ask him who his favorite painters were. Since he couldn’t name a one, he’d look like an idiot. Instead of mixing the paints on the palette, he decided to do something very abstract. He’d outlined the trees and did a streak of yellow next to a streak of blue, hoping the eye would mentally combine them into green.

For the next half hour, he really got into his new technique. Even Daven’s painting kind of looked like a lake. He’d made the water fountain the painting’s focus. Since colored lights from beneath the fountain changed the tint of the water, Daven had painted multiple colored streaks shooting upward.

His looked more like a bunch of elongated dots smooshed together, but he had to admit, if he leaned back and closed one eye, he could picture himself in the rowboat with Julia.

She pushed back her chair. “I think I need to take a break and stretch my legs.”

He pulled out his phone and noticed they’d been there a few hours. Time really had flown. He didn’t remember ever being this focused on something that wasn’t related to his job before. He glanced at her work.

“That’s amazing.”

She smiled. “Yours is interesting, too.”

At least she didn’t say a kid could have done better. He stood, and it felt as though his legs squeaked. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her work. “It’s peaceful.” She’d added some fog to give it a more mysterious look.

“I’ve spent many years looking at this dock. I’ve seen the lake in the winter when the water is dark and ominous from the clouds above, and I’ve seen it in the spring, when the leaves are beginning to come back on the trees, but I think I like it best at dawn, when no one is around but me.”

Her wistful tone connected with him. Here was a woman with dreams and hopes.

Daven finally got up. “I’ll take the fall any time.” He pointed to the forest. “The change of season is like a time of renewal for me. It’s as if nature is trying to tell us that we need to shed the old and embrace a new beginning.”

Dude. When did you become so poetic?

Breck caught the smile threatening to explode across his face. For a moment, all three of them looked back over the water and seemed lost in their own thoughts. The day couldn’t have gone any better, as he got to see into Julia’s soul, but he didn’t want their time to end.

“Anyone up for a spin about the lake?” The rowboat looked sturdy enough to hold all three of them.

She hesitated, as if the enjoyment of the day and her desire for companionship might prevail over her need to keep her distance. “Sure. Once around the lake will be okay. Then I have to get back. It is my mom’s birthday weekend after all.”

“I totally understand.”

We’ve hooked her, Daven.

Julia chastised herself for agreeing to be in such close proximity to the men, but they’d turned out to be so different than what she’d imagined. While it was clear both of them were beginners, she had to admit they each had a unique painting style. Breck’s almost bordered on Impressionistic whereas Daven’s was definitely modern. Both, however, managed to capture to essence of the beautiful setting.