Jared Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (5 page)

“McBride?” Jonas asked, drawing him back to the here and now.

“I will deal with Caleb.”

“That’s all well and good, but given how vicious he is, and how I have no protection, I don’t want you to be mourning my loss while you chastise him.” Jonas looked toward the window and winced his gaze away. “He knows, McBride. He knows you and I aren’t really companions. We’ve fooled everyone else but him.”

“I realize that.” McBride kept the ice pack to his ear as he lifted his wine and drank the entire glass down. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight the burning line of booze warmed his belly and relaxed the tenseness that had taken up residence in his shoulders. When his mechanical butler approached and offered him another glass, McBride gave a curt nod and said, “Keep them coming.”

“I want to tell all the brothers now.”

McBride practically choked on his second glass of wine. “How in the world will that help keep Caleb in line?”

“I don’t know that it will, but Ollie doesn’t want to continue lying to his brothers.” Jonas sipped his wine while he continued to fondle the plans rolled up by his plate. “I have to say that after his rather passionate plea, I agree with him.”

McBride flashed on Ollie swaying his mate by sexing him up, but he didn’t ask if that was the case. What Jonas and Ollie did together was none of his business. McBride had borne witness to their bonding ceremony, but that didn’t mean he had the right to pry into their sex life afterward. Still, the thought of that night, and how he’d envied them, caused McBride to down another glass of wine. When the butler lifted the bottle, McBride nodded. As soon as his glass was empty again, he lifted his hand, holding off another filling.

“Don’t we have anything stronger?”

“There is brandy, sir.”

“Get me the bottle.”

Without censure, the butler trundled off to do his bidding. When he looked over at Jonas, he noticed that Jonas seemed concerned.

“I’m planning on getting quite drunk. If you have a problem with that, you might want to steer clear of me.”

“And then?” Jonas sipped his wine as he considered him.

“And then what?”

“What will you do after you’ve gotten yourself quite drunk?” Jonas asked him this as if they were discussing nothing more important that what color of socks McBride intended to wear with his trousers.

“Then I’m going to eat what Ollie makes and go to bed. I don’t intend on getting up or answering calls until midday tomorrow.” McBride pressed the ice pack to his ear more firmly. “But then again, I might not answer any calls again since I can’t really do anything about what’s going on in the county.”

Jonas nodded and then glanced out the window. “Do you really think that’s wise given the circumstances?”

“What? You think those pantywaists from town are going to stomp out to my farm in their prissy little boots and start some trouble?” McBride tossed his head back and laughed. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“Not them. Caleb.”

McBride considered as he looked at the bottle of brandy. He contrasted how good it would feel to lose himself in that alcoholic haze against how dangerous it would be to get a major drunk on when Caleb had a full head of steam. “Maybe I’ll go visit him.”

“Maybe you should.” Jonas kept his voice very low and quiet.

“I’m not in love with him.” Not yet, but the first tugs were there. McBride admired how Caleb put his own needs aside to protect his brothers. In a rather oblique way, McBride had offered out a trade between giving Ollie to Jonas and giving himself to Caleb. Caleb was adamant that he wouldn’t trade his brother for anything, even the man he desperately wanted. That had impressed McBride more than anything he’d ever heard or seen anyone do. Caleb was a man of morals. He might be crude and defy the law when he saw fit, but he wouldn’t violate his own deep sense of morality.

“I didn’t say you were in love with Caleb. I don’t think you are.” Jonas tapped McBride’s forearm, drawing his attention to him. “Toss him in the stocks and fuck him until you’ve finally sated your lust. Do that every hour of every day if that’s what it takes to really scratch that itch. Then move on.”

McBride lifted the brandy to his lips and drank straight from the bottle. Just picturing putting Caleb’s powerful body into the stocks made him hard despite the booze. Using him to slake his potent needs would temporarily abate his longings, but not cure the underlying illness. No, that simply wouldn’t work. McBride had it bad for Caleb. He wanted him the way that Jonas wanted Ollie. McBride wanted Caleb to share his table, his bed, his life, and everything that would happen in the next half a dozen decades they each had to live.

“I can’t do that to him when he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a punishment.”

“Oh, for the love of—make something up!” Jonas looked beyond frustrated that McBride simply wasn’t on board with his idea. “I doubt he’d fight you when it’s clear your lust is returned in fairly equal measure.”

“I’m not raping him just to make things easier for you.” McBride slammed the bottle of brandy down on the table. He expected it to shatter, but the glass was thick and sturdy, protecting the brown liquid inside. “Caleb hasn’t done anything wrong, and I’m not going to make a preemptive strike against him just so you can feel better.”

“That’s not fair.” Jonas left off his glass of wine. “I’m not wanting you to hurt him, just…”

“What?”

“It seems to me that there is something between you two.” Before McBride could interject, Jonas lifted his hand to cut him off. “I swore I wouldn’t interfere in your issue with Caleb, and I won’t, unless you ask me to, but you are torturing yourself and him needlessly.”

McBride took a moment to draw a few steadying breaths. Just as he’d taught Easton today, he breathed in through his nose and out from his mouth. Doing so calmed him and seemed to do a far better job than the alcohol of dissipating his tension. And why the hell was he drinking so much? He wasn’t a drinker, yet lately he’d been craving the stuff far more than food or blood. There was one benefit to having Jonas know his secret craving for Caleb. Before, McBride had to keep everything locked up in his own head. Now he could actually talk about it with someone else. Unfortunately, he discovered that he didn’t want to talk about it with someone who had his own agenda. McBride didn’t think Jonas was pushing him toward Caleb because he thought that was best for McBride or Caleb. No. Jonas was shoving him that direction because it would be the best thing for him and Ollie.

Once he was calm, McBride considered what Jonas had said about him needlessly torturing himself and Caleb. “How am I hurting either one of us?”

“The world has moved on.” Jonas looked out the window toward the town of Woven Spire and McBride followed his gaze.

Normally, the lights were brighter, but so many people had left and turned off their automatic lights that the city seemed dark now. McBride imagined that after a week or two it would go dark completely. If everyone believed the disease originated in Woven Spire, it was unlikely anyone running from other places would come here. His gut was telling him that men were fleeing, never to return.

“Things will never be as they were. Don’t try to cling to the law when you now have a chance to make your own rules.”

“It seems rather pompous of me to make up my own laws.” McBride realized his attention had shifted from the city to Caleb’s house. The lights were on, but he couldn’t see Caleb. Perhaps when he went up to his room he could see him sitting at the table with his back to the window. McBride still had no idea what he was doing while he sat there. He just enjoyed looking at him and his beautiful body.

“This is your land.” Jonas pointed out the window then spread his arms wide. “For miles around us you own all that you can see.”

“So?”

“Stop living in the old system and embrace the changes facing us.” Jonas grasped the rolled-up papers. He placed them in the center of the table and pushed the thick end of the roll toward McBride. “These are the plans I have for the garden.”

For the first time, McBride realized Jonas’s nails were encrusted with dirt. It was obvious he’d tried to clean them, but he hadn’t been able to wash all the muck away. Jonas was going from a gentryman of leisure to a man comfortable working with his hands. McBride was surprised since Jonas had always struck him as a dedicated dandy who would fear mussing his suit or ruining his hands, but he wasn’t. Just like the world, Jonas was changing. Was McBride the only one who feared the shift?

“I spent hours looking at the lay of the land and planning things out. With Ollie’s help, of course, being that he will be responsible for cooking whatever we grow. Also, Alden has some formal training in growing foodstuff, so he’s been incredibly valuable.”

McBride had resisted the idea that with the major changes sweeping the globe he would now be responsible for everyone who called his land home. The obligation part was one thing, and that he could handle, but the idea of defining the laws of his land by himself…that was a bit too much power for him to enthusiastically embrace. Those on the Genetics Board were chosen because they were comfortable with that level of control. McBride was not, and he doubted he’d ever be sanguine about having so much authority.

“You can write your own rules, McBride.” Jonas stroked his hand over the plans. When the nature of his touch turned from utilitarian to sensual, McBride looked up and saw Ollie in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen. Jonas may have been touching the papers, but he was thinking of touching his mate. “You don’t have to live in the past unless that’s what you want.”

McBride eased back from the table so that Ollie could serve the first course. As soon as he’d deposited the salad, he turned away, but McBride called him back. “Sit.” McBride pointed to the chair across from Jonas.

Ollie glanced over his shoulder and out the picture window. “But someone might see.”

“Let them. I no longer care to continue with the lie. If I can make my own rules, I’m going to start right now.” McBride lifted the bottle of brandy and left the table.

“And Caleb?”

That caused McBride to freeze with one foot on the staircase that would take him up to his room. Oh, how McBride wanted to stride over to Caleb’s house, kick open his door, push him up against a wall, and meld their two massive bodies together. He saw the movements so clearly in his head it was almost as if they had already happened. But they hadn’t. And they wouldn’t. As much as McBride was willing to let others do what they needed to do to find their happiness, he wasn’t about to force his company on a man who no longer wanted him.

Turning toward the front door, McBride strode over to the discreet controls next to the foyer. He flipped the switch that not only locked all the doors and windows, but caused metal shutters to slam down over all the possible ways into and out of the house. “Caleb won’t bother you. Nor will anyone else.” Without looking back, he strode up the stairs with the bottle clutched firmly in his fist.

Once he reached the second story, he almost turned down the hall to claim a room as his for the night, but he changed his mind and kept walking up the stairs until he reached the fourth story. The entire wing was dark. McBride kept going until he reached the tiny cupola that allowed him to look out over the entire farm.

Rising up like a nipple in the center of the big house, the cupola was nothing but a series of eight windows in a circle. There was just enough room for two men. As he climbed up inside, he was dismayed to see how rain-splattered the glass was on the outside while the inside windows were riddled with cobwebs. Clearly, the tiny room hadn’t been cleaned in ages. However, once McBride settled himself on the floor, he realized that didn’t matter.

From his perch, he had a spectacular view of not only his farm, but of the four major towns that made up Woven Spire County. This was the perfect lookout. Even with the murky panes of glass hindering his view, he was still able to see for miles. Not a soul could encroach on his land without him becoming aware of their movements.

When he’d first heard the news of the mass exodus of the townsmen, he’d worried about marauders from this county or possibly other places flooding his farm and stealing what little they had, but he needn’t have worried. Quintus had said that no one thought there would be anything there since the farm grew fabric fibers. What none of them knew was that the farm was capable of being completely self-sufficient. Still, he was glad he didn’t have to fight off half the town to keep what they had. If they were careful, and if he got them organized, they could be safe, comfortable, and perhaps even thrive. Things would change, but they would still have all their basic creature comforts.

As he looked around and cleared the inside windows with his fingers and wiped the webs onto his jeans, he completely forgot the bottle of brandy. Right now he had something much more intoxicating. There was a spyglass resting on one of the windowsills. McBride lifted it, blew off the dust from the looking glass, raised it to his eye, and peered out.

As if mystically drawn, his attention landed on Caleb’s home.

“Zooks.” McBride swung the telescope away, but found himself returning. Caleb was in the dining room, his back to the window. Just as he had been a few nights ago, he was looking down at something on the wooden surface. His left hand moved rhythmically over whatever it was he was looking at.