Two to Love

Chapter Eight

Nate could smell it. It filled the air with a sickening acrid scent that clung to everything. It was a little like a barbecue, but there was a coppery tone to it. The scent was making him sick, and he didn’t need it. He needed to be steady. The heat from the August sun had baked the Texas border town to a crisp, and now that it was dark, the ground still held the sizzle. Sweat was dripping off his forehead.

Nate held the Glock tightly in his hands and looked at the men around him. He forced himself to stay calm and tried to remember every bit of his training. It was so fucking hard. He’d been Nate Rush, outlaw biker, for years. Becoming DEA Special Agent Nathan Wright again was hard. Nate Rush wanted to walk in, guns blazing and damn the torpedoes. Nate Wright knew what would happen if he did. Rushing in without a good plan would just get Zane killed in the crossfire. He needed to give the MET time to get into position around the warehouse. He’d already risked a lot to get to El Paso and organize the mobile enforcement team. He wasn’t going to screw it up now. The guards who surrounded the warehouse were dead or hog-tied in the back of the MET unit’s van. There were only the core members of the Barbarians to deal with, but they wouldn’t go down easy. He had to think of this in terms of his job—get in, arrest the bad guys, collect the evidence, get out alive.

But that professional thought didn’t do anything to calm the churning in his gut. Zane was in there and had been for hours. When Nate had left, Zane had been tied to a chair while the gang took turns using him as a punching bag. Why wasn’t Zane screaming? At least he’d been spitting bile and vitriol when Nate had managed to slip away hours before. He felt like he hadn’t breathed in hours and hours, not since that moment when he realized Zane’s cover was blown.

The leader of the MET made a chopping motion with his hand. It was the go signal. Nate kicked the door in and entered hell. He heard gunfire and finally realized what that smell had been. Zane.

“Sweetie, you need to wake up now.”

Callie’s voice and the soft touch of her hand pulled him out of the nightmare. He breathed deeply before opening his eyes. Mountain air. Pine. Bliss. He tentatively opened his eyes, and Callie smiled down at him.

“You were having a bad dream,” she explained needlessly.

He shook slightly, trying to rid his head of the images. Zane on that fucking slab, pieces of his body still sizzling from where those assholes branded him. He’d been so still. Nate had thought he was dead.

“Asshole, your pansy ass bad dream sent my butt to the floor.”

Nate sat up. Sure enough, Zane was sprawled on the floor on the other side of the bed. Callie sat beside Nate, knees pulled to her chest. She was all soft skin and a hint of a smile. Zane, on the other hand, was all pissed off man. And he was alive. Nate could even look at the scars this morning without feeling so guilty he had to turn away.

“Sorry.” Nate managed not to laugh. Zane was tangled in a very feminine quilt. It had come with the cabin. Maybe it was time to think about replacing some of the items that didn’t go with their personalities, like the rose and bunny covered quilt.

Zane stood up, tossing the quilt at Nate’s face. He scratched his belly and stretched. “I’m taking a shower, and then I’ll start breakfast. Then I’m going to find a freaking bigger bed. My legs hang off this one, and Callie elbowed me all night long.”

Callie grinned. “Well, you two took up all the space. I had to sleep on top of Nate.”

A bigger bed was definitely in order. Zane brushed his lips across Callie’s and walked out toward the bathroom. The single bathroom. This cabin wasn’t big enough for the two of them, much less for three. Damn it. He couldn’t afford more. He couldn’t even afford a separate living room. It was squeezed in with the kitchen and dining room. At one point in time, he could have offered Callie a mansion.

“What is that look about?” Callie was regarding him with a worried look on her face.

What was he supposed to say? Well, baby, I was thinking about the fact that I can’t support you. I was thinking how sad it was that you slept with a man who can’t buy you a Valentine’s Day present, much less the ring you deserve.

Her hand came out to cup his face. “It’s okay, Nate. I promise I won’t give you hell at work.” There was a sad smile on her lips and a dullness to her eyes that hit Nate straight in the heart.

“What do you mean?”

She pulled her hand back and scooted to the edge of the bed. Her head darted around as though looking for her clothes. “I mean I’m not going to be some clinging vine, Sheriff. I’m a big girl. This was a fun fling.”

Nate pulled her back down, pinning her to the bed. He needed to make a few things clear. He could handle it if she wanted to walk away because he had nothing to offer her, but this wasn’t a fling. Not even close. He covered her with his body, spreading her legs wide with his knees. His cock immediately responded. He was hard as hell and seeking relief. There was no place for Callie to go, and she looked up at him with a sheen of tears in her eyes.

Nate stared down at her. She was so lovely. “How do you think this is supposed to work, baby?”

She tried to shrug, but he held her arms high over her head. His chest lay against her bare breasts. “I have breakfast and go home. I see you at work, and we behave professionally.”

“Not going to happen.” He couldn’t help himself. She was close, and she was wet. God, she was so wet. What had she been dreaming about? Nate let go of her hands. He got on his knees and grabbed a condom, rolling it on with precision. “This isn’t a fling. This is your future. Get used to us, Callie.”

He fitted himself to that warm pussy and thrust home. Even after all the sex of the night before, she was still tight around him. He had to strain to get his cock in. He pushed in balls deep and held himself there. Callie’s brown eyes weren’t dead anymore. They were alive with heat.

“Nate, I don’t know about this.”

“I do. Just trust me. You aren’t going home. You’re staying with us for the foreseeable future. And I have no intention of behaving professionally.”

He pulled out and flexed back in. Her pussy clung to his cock, sucking at him. Last night had been fast and furious. This morning was different. This morning he wanted to take his time and make it last. He wanted to fuck her for hours. He could spend the morning just like this, pumping in and out of her pussy. He sighed at the connection humming through his blood. This was where he wanted to be.

“What did you expect?” Nate asked as he twisted his hips a little on the down stroke. “That I would pretend we aren’t lovers?”

Callie’s legs wound around his waist. She pressed back against him. He knew she had to be sore, but she accepted him anyway. “I guess I didn’t think we would be. You won’t stay here for too long. You only promised Stef you would work out Rye’s term. That’s up in less than a year. You don’t like it here.”

Nate wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. “I like you, Callie. That’s what matters. I’m crazy about you.” He twisted his hips slowly, grinding against her pelvis. He loved the way her eyes closed, and she groaned. He could see the pulse in her throat leap. “I am so crazy about you.”

He kissed her and stopped talking. He just showed her how he felt, worshipping her body with his. He thrust in and out, in and out. He lost himself in the scent, sight, and feel of her. Callie clutched at his shoulders. Her legs tightened, and she sighed as she came. The sweetest smile lit her face. Nate had enjoyed the hot sex of the night before, but he loved this, too. After Callie came twice, Nate let himself go. He thrust as deep as he could go and let the cum flow from his body.

He collapsed on top of Callie and cuddled against her. Zane could bring them breakfast. He wasn’t leaving the bed. Maybe never again.

There was the sound of glass breaking, and Zane shouted. Nate was on his feet in an instant. His heart was racing, but he had trained long enough that he knew it wouldn’t show on his face. His face would be stone cold, and every movement would be precise.

“What did he break?” Callie asked, wincing at the sound.

It wasn’t Zane. Nate knew it instinctively. His entire being had gone into protective cop mode. Two windows. Small, but of the proper height for a headshot. He stood clear. Callie was in a good place. The cabin walls were actual logs, built in the thirties. As a barrier to bullets went, they were about as good as it got.

The bedroom door burst open, and Zane plowed through. He had on a pair of jeans, and his hair was wet. “We have to go.” Zane tossed a T-shirt toward Callie along with her purse and pulled his Sig Sauer out of the nightstand.

Callie’s eyes were wide as Nate found his Glock and quickly checked it for bullets and flicked off the safety. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and reached for Callie’s hand. He was proud of the calm way she was handling the whole thing.

“Barbarians?” Nate asked.

Zane’s entire body was a study in concentration. His breathing steady, his hands curled around the gun. “Probably. Someone tossed a Moltov cocktail in the window. It caught the curtains on fire. I couldn’t get it out. The living room is going slowly, but it’s going.”

Callie was reaching for her cell.

“No, baby, we have to go.” They would have to leave everything behind. The cabin was solidly built, but the carpet was old and the curtains thin. They would catch quickly and burn hard.

She hit a single button. “You have your weapons, and I have mine. Hello, Marie. I’m out at Marnie’s old place. Someone’s attacking us. Yeah. Okay.” She let the phone fall into her purse. “Marie’ll take care of it.”

Nate wasn’t sure what the fifty-plus-year-old owner of the Trading Post was going to do against an outlaw biker gang. He’d met Marie and her “life partner” Teeny. While Marie was solidly built, Teeny was a little bird of a woman. Nate peeked behind the curtain, making damn sure Callie was behind him. He couldn’t see anyone waiting, but he knew they were out there. The fire was a way of getting them to flee. They would be walking right into a trap. God, he should have killed Ellis when he had the chance. The leader of the Barbarians was still a thorn in his side from his cushy prison cell.

“I’m going out first. I’m the one they want.” Zane shoved back the curtains, and Nate pulled Callie out of the way.

Callie tried to get to Zane. “You can’t go out there!”

Zane gave her a sad smile and pushed her hair back. She’d managed to get her glasses on, and Zane kissed the bridge of her nose. “I have to. They’ll be looking for me. If I can distract them, Nate can get you to the car and get you out of here. Don’t even think about disobeying me right now.”

“I’ll get her to the car and then come back for you.” Nate had no intention of leaving Zane to the wolves. Callie could drive to the station house, lock herself in, and call for help.

“What the hell?” Zane breathed the question. His eyes widened as he looked out the window.

Nate joined him and was shocked by what he saw. There were fifteen small cabins in this part of the valley. Every door was open, and their neighbors were coming out. Each man and a couple of women had a shotgun in their hands. In the distance, Nate could hear a siren wailing. Logan was on his way, somehow. He sighed. Logan was Marie’s…sort of son. Apparently Marie hadn’t made her boy quit after his foray into biker bars.

Nate heard the sound of shouting and then the unmistakable roar of a bike coming to life. The citizens of Bliss–1. Barbarians–0. Nate might have to rethink his attitude about this town.

Three hours later, Zane watched Callie thank Stella as she placed a much-needed cup of coffee in front of her. He nodded from across the booth but kept his eyes down until Stella left to wait on another table. Callie reached her hand out to cover Zane’s. He gave her a half-hearted smile that she seemed satisfied with. She was dressed in a flowing skirt and blouse. Everything about her was calm, but Zane couldn’t forget that just a little while ago, her life had been in danger. Again.

“What’s good here?” He picked up the menu and started to study it. He had no appetite whatsoever, but it would worry Callie if he didn’t eat. His brain worked overtime. He could still smell the carpet burning, feel the heat and the panic when he realized what was happening. Because of the neighbors’ quick thinking, the cabin had been mostly saved, though it would take a lot of money to make it livable again. A lot of money neither he nor Nate had. It was something he needed to think about. Callie would need someone who could provide for her. He wasn’t sure exactly how he fit into that scenario.

“I would stick to standard diner fare. Pancakes, bacon, burgers, and such. Hal is a fantastic fry cook. Unfortunately, he considers himself an artist. Stella gives him complete artistic control over the daily specials.” Callie turned a little green as she spoke.

Zane looked up at the chalkboard over the counter. It proudly claimed that Ceviche de Hongos with black beans and lemon was the special of the day. “What is that?”

Callie shrugged. “I have no idea. It doesn’t sell really well in small-town Colorado. Although the people around here are free-spirited, their spirits still tend to like burgers and fries and ice box pie. Except for Henry and Nell. They’re vegans. They protest here regularly.”

Despite feeling sorry for himself, Zane felt his lips curl at the thought of people protesting at a hole-in-the-wall diner. The brunette from last night walked up to the table. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt with the diner’s name across the chest. Her eyes were red and puffy. The night before had not been kind to her. Zane looked out the window as she talked to Callie, sensing she wouldn’t want his pity.

He knew that feeling. He watched as people strolled down Main Street. Just down the road was the sheriff’s office where he’d left Nate to deal with the reports required from last night and this morning. He knew what Nate intended to do. He was calling their old boss at the DEA. He was hoping to get some sort of backup. Zane was on Callie duty, and he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do.

Well, he’d be happier if they were back at her cabin. He didn’t like to go out much anymore. Again, not a trait that led to gainful employment. Callie was really entrenched in this little town. If he stayed here with her, where would he work?

“He’s an asshole.” The brunette, Jen—yeah, that was her name—had tears seeping from her eyes.

“Oh, sweetie, he’s just confused,” Callie said, her hand reaching out to pat Jen’s.

It had been like that all day. Wherever Callie went, hard luck stories found her. When the smoke had finally cleared and they salvaged what they could, he’d found Callie rocking a baby so one of the neighbors could grab a cup of coffee. A teen had begged her for a ride into Bliss, and Callie had obliged. Before they had even set foot in the station house, the crazy dude with the tin foil hat had run up to Callie and hugged her, telling her he was glad she hadn’t been abducted. Apparently tragedies like fires or earthquakes were just ripe opportunities for alien abductions. In the end, Callie had ended up comforting the older man and promising him that some sort of detector thing would be here by the end of the week.

Callie had been a pretty butterfly, flitting around offering advice and comfort and an ear to bend to anyone she saw. Zane had been the big, hulking beast who followed her around. No one was going to flatten his butterfly, damn it.

Jen sniffled. She looked Zane right in the eyes. “Well, I hope you’re not an asshole.”

Not sure what to say to that. “I’ll try.”

“You do that. You take care of my friend or I swear I will…I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be bad.”

The slender woman seemed perfectly serious. Zane had been intimidating all of his life because of his height and build. The scars had only added to his badass factor. People turned away from him in Dallas or stared in horrified fascination. Not this one, though. She’d said he was stunning. A fallen angel. She was a little crazy, but she seemed awful nice.

“Who’s the asshole? You’re Callie’s friend. I’m Callie’s man. I’ll beat him up for you.” He would get in good with Callie’s friends. That seemed like a good thing to do. He might not be here for too long. Callie deserved far better than him, but he could certainly help her and her friends out in the short term.

“Stefan Talbot.” Jen gave up the guy who hurt her really easily.

“Consider him broken.” Zane sighed. Life was looking up. He’d wanted to kick that pompous rich boy’s ass for years.

Callie poked her index finger at him like an enraged school teacher. “You most certainly will not, Zane Derek Hollister. You are going to behave yourself.” She turned that judgmental finger on her friend. “And you are not going to put a hit on the man you love. He needs time. Give it to him. Pushing him will only make things worse. Now, we’ll take the bacon cheeseburger loaded with fries and the special.”

Jen nodded and, with a sigh of resignation, flounced off.

“I thought you said to avoid the special.”

“Everyone avoids the special. It hurts Hal’s feelings,” Callie explained.

Zane reached for her hand. He loved how small it was in his. Small but solid. That was his girl. “You need a keeper.”

Just like that, he was wondering if he wasn’t exactly what she needed. Some pussy rich boy would let everyone take advantage of her. Maybe she needed a guy who didn’t care what people thought.

She grinned. “I kind of thought I had one.”

Before Zane could reply, a sarcastic voice interrupted. “Well, damn, Cal, I thought I had to come rescue you, but it looks like you hired some muscle.”

Zane looked up at the man who had walked into the diner and made a beeline for his woman. He looked like he’d just ridden in off the range. A Stetson sat on his head. He wore jeans and boots and a shirt with pearl snaps. He stared at Zane for a moment and finally whistled.

“Damn, man, what does the other guy look like?”

“Max!” Callie turned to the newcomer, a startled look on her face.

Zane actually didn’t mind. The cowboy was the first person he’d met in a long time to simply ask him about the scars. It should have made him self-conscious, but Zane found forthrightness put him at ease. “The other guy was actually ten guys, and they look pretty bad themselves. They drugged me and tied me down. Three of them are dead, though. The rest are mostly in prison.”

The cowboy’s eyebrows climbed into his Stetson. “Mostly?”

“I wasn’t very happy when I came to. Unfortunately for them, the only people in a position to help them were DEA agents. They were indisposed, and I managed a good ten minutes with a couple of them.”

“Damn.” The cowboy named Max looked impressed. He slid into the booth beside Callie. His hand ran across the back of the booth. “That is impressive.”

His arm went around Callie’s shoulders, and Zane’s blood pressure ticked up slightly. Everyone in the town was friends with Callie. Keep it cool. Keep the caveman buried.

Zane shook his head. “Nah, it was really just painful.”

“So you with the DEA? What’s drugs got to do with my girl Callie here?” Max squeezed her shoulders in a familiar way that had the caveman in Zane clawing to get out.

He took a deep breath. His fingers tightened on the tabletop. He saw the way Callie playfully elbowed the cowboy. It did nothing to make him comfortable. It was past obvious that this Max fellow knew Callie really well. Max. That name triggered something in Zane. “Nothing. I’m not an agent anymore. And she isn’t your girl.”

“Really? You left a job like that?” Max completely ignored the important part. “Is that how you ended up as a bodyguard?” The cowboy reached over and grabbed Callie’s coffee like he had a right to steal a sip.

“I’m not a bodyguard. I’m her boyfriend.” That damn Max was riding an awfully thin line. Somewhere in the back of Zane’s head, logic was telling him he should back off. He might have to leave at any moment. He might have to break Callie’s heart again. He wasn’t listening to logic. He was listening to his ego, and it wanted to get Max away from his woman. Maybe it was time to shake the asshole up a little. “Well, I’m one of her boyfriends, anyway.” Let that sink in. Maybe if he shocked backwoods Max, he would go away.

A big grin spread across the cowboy’s face. He turned to Callie. “I hope the other one is a little smaller, darlin’.” He took a long drink from Callie’s mug. “This one looks like he could do some damage.”

Callie flushed prettily and didn’t seem to care that the jerk was drinking her coffee. “Max, you hush, and don’t you say a word to Rye.”

Just like that, it clicked. Max and Rye Harper were the twins Callie had been in love with. They had been the reason she wanted a ménage in the first place. This jerk with the perfect face was Callie’s ideal man. He wasn’t ridiculously oversized, and he didn’t have a face full of scars. He probably didn’t come with enough baggage to strangle an elephant, either. Old pretty-boy Max didn’t have a past filled with regret. Max leaned over to Callie. He invaded her space.

“You know I gotta tell Rye, sweet thing. He’s going to think it’s real damn funny that you’ve taken to the lifestyle.”

Max put a hand on Callie’s head, and Zane lost it. He didn’t even think about what he was doing. It was like watching a movie. He felt a bit outside of himself. He moved quickly, exiting his side of the booth, reaching for the asshole cowboy who dared to put a hand on his woman. He neatly picked him up by the throat and slammed him onto a nearby table. It was just chance that it was empty.

“Zane!”

Zane heard Callie’s outraged shout, but it seemed a far-off thing. There was only him and Max in that moment, and Zane needed to clear up a few issues before they could proceed. As for Callie, well, she’d made her choice the night before when she accepted him into her body. When she’d offered up that sweet pussy of hers, he’d taken more. She fucking belonged to him, and no goddamn cowboy was going to drink her coffee and touch her hair.

“Now, maybe we should talk about this, big guy.” Max was staring up at him with a slightly rueful expression. “You know, I think of her as my sister.”

“You touch your sister’s hair as often as you touch Callie’s?” Zane wasn’t letting him get off with that excuse. At least Talbot had taken a step back when he understood Zane and Nate had marked her as theirs.

“Yeah, but I’ll be honest, Brooke is more like my daughter than my sister. I had to raise her after my mom died and my dad left town. I’m a very affectionate guy. I swear on my unborn child’s life that I have zero interest in Callie on a sexual level.”

“Gee, thanks, Max,” Callie said, sarcasm dripping as she stood beside him. Zane’s hand was still wrapped around Max’s throat, but he wasn’t squeezing. Callie rolled those gorgeous dark eyes and sighed. “Do you mind, Zane? You’re causing a scene.”

Zane looked around the diner. Sure enough, every eye in the place was on them. Some were horrified at the scene and had cell phones in hand. Most, though, had big grins on their faces, including Stella, the diner owner, who was walking toward their table. She seemed completely unfazed by the potential ass kicking that was taking place in her establishment.

“Go rough on him,” Stella said as she neatly placed their food on the table. “He deserves it.” She looked at Callie. “I like your man, hon. He makes up for the other one. You gotta talk to the sheriff, girl. He keeps ticketing the tourists. I need the tourists in a good mood.” She frowned as she looked down at Max. “You know, I’ve been around enough of these crazy threesomes to know that there’s a hardass and a sweet one.” She patted Zane’s scarred face. “You’re the sweet one, hon. You get free fries.” She walked off, her boots ringing across the floor.

“Damn,” Max said, turning his head to watch Stella. “I don’t get free fries. Cal, I think Stella thinks I’m the hardass. She doesn’t know Rye at all, damn it. I am completely misunderstood.”

A few things fell into place, and Zane let his hand drift to his side. “You’re in a threesome?”

Max sat up and felt his neck for damage. “I don’t consider it a threesome. It’s a marriage. My brother and I are married to a lovely woman named Rachel. We have a baby on the way.” A sly grin crossed his face. “Did you think you were shocking me, city boy?”

Zane wasn’t sure how to answer that. He had thought it would shock him.

Max gave him a good-natured punch in the arm. “Nothing shocks a Bliss boy.” His face suddenly went cold and dark, and Zane decided he’d completely underestimated the cowboy. “But we take our relationships serious, you understand? I wasn’t joking. Callie’s like my sister. You play around with her, and you deal with me and Rye.”

“I’m not playing,” Zane said automatically.

Max seemed to take his measure. Callie’s arm wound around Zane’s waist, and he pulled her close, waiting for the judgment of her childhood friend.

“All right then,” Max said, scooting back into the booth. “As long as we understand each other.”

This time Zane pulled Callie along and pushed her gently into the booth on his side. Her sardonic look let him know she didn’t miss his reasons for changing the seating arrangement. He slung an arm around her possessively but decided to play the white knight as well. Callie needed someone who looked out for her. He passed the amazing-looking cheeseburger over to her.

Callie looked up at him. “But I ordered the burger for you.”

He winked at her and picked up the fork that went with the ceviche. “I’d like to try the special, babe. You take the burger.”

He was surprised to find he really liked ceviche de hongos with black beans and lemon, and he was starting to like Bliss.