Chapter Nine

They both gave her a strange look and her distress mounted.

It didn’t help that she knew it was her own fault.

She supposed she’d just been thrown completely off kilter by the arrival at their home.

She wasn’t exactly certain of why that was, only that she had been.

Well, she supposed the bitter sweet memories that had been resurrected by the porch had a good bit to do with it.

She’d very carefully and methodically buried her earliest memories because they brought her more pain than joy in remembrance. The memories triggered by the porch had been more like a gut punch than the pleasure it should have been—actually was just at first—until the past crashed down on her.

She thought she was rattled by the house, too, because it looked like a family home—not a bachelor pad—and somewhere in the back of her mind she had wondered where the family was. Because although it hadn’t occurred to her before she’d seen it, it certainly should have occurred to her that they were old enough to have started a family.

Which was why she’d made that stupid remark about their family being in Europe, she supposed.

“I’m … I guess I’m just really worn out from all the traveling and … Well, the meeting back in St. Paul didn’t go at all like I’d hoped. I wonder if I could use one of your beds for a nap?”

And solitude to cry like a baby, she thought.

Their expressions just seemed to close up right before her eyes, but she couldn’t think straight. She needed a little time to try to collect herself. And she focused on trying her best to act normal until Kiran showed her a room she could use and left her.

Heading straight for the bathroom as soon as she’d locked the door, she locked that door and turned on the shower. When she’d stripped, she got in and sat down under the spray—waiting—rocking herself.

Tears made a hard, painful knot in her chest but refused to be released.

Finally, her skin pruning, weak from the hot water, she got out, dried off, and curled up on the bed with a pillow clutched tightly to her, staring at the wall while the shadows moved across it.

She was scared, she decided finally, and hurt and confused.

She was a mature woman, experienced—far too old to have unrealistic expectations anymore.

She supposed women never really gave up hope entirely, but she knew the ways of the world, and men.

She’d known the sex wouldn’t make any difference at all—except to make her less horny.

But she thought there’d been just this tiny bit of hope somewhere in the back of her mind that, somehow, that would transform everything and they’d realize she did matter to them.

Which was utterly stupid considering the brothers had shared her.

No man shared a woman with another man if he gave a damn about her—especially his brother or his best friend. That just meant he had lots of love for his brother or his friend, not the woman.

Not that it had been her idea, but that didn’t matter. It had been theirs and that was that.

Truthfully, she’d thought she was so tainted from the gang rape that they couldn’t look at her without thinking about all the dicks that had been inside her.

Kiran had smelled them on her.

Well, and Connor, too, she was sure.

It certainly hadn’t turned them on. They hadn’t touched her until they’d left South America.

And actually not a lot since then—several nights after that first one and then, when she was beginning to feel like the two of them would fuck her to death, they’d just quit on her.

Connor had taken her hand when she been so sad about her memories, though.

It occurred to her abruptly that the core of her distress wasn’t all that complicated.

They’d come home.

And that translated to ‘end of the road’.

She hadn’t asked, at any point, where they were going or questioned any decision they, or more accurately, Connor, had made.

Because she didn’t want to give them an opening to ask where to drop her off, what her plans were—refused to say anything that might bring on a push toward the curb.

It was classic passive aggressive behavior.

She’d, instinctively, she supposed because she certainly wasn’t aware of it, grasped their dominate personality traits and adjusted accordingly. They seemed predisposed to be protective. They were kind hearted.

She’d taken advantage of both.

Because she was scared and they were all that stood between her and her fears.

Her entire world had crashed down around her ears and, like a toddler just learning to walk, she was unsteady and uncertain … and clingy. She knew she had to learn to walk again, but she just didn’t feel up to it.

That was why she’d almost broken down completely when she’d taken her ‘gift’ out of the truck and turned around to discover they’d followed her out, were waiting expectantly. Giving that to them was accepting that this really was the end of the road and she just couldn’t make herself take that first step.

Even her retreat to the room to hide and wallow in self-pity was a ploy to delay the inevitable, she realized unhappily.

It was understandable.

It wasn’t really acceptable.

She didn’t consider it acceptable behavior—for any reason.

She’d been through a traumatic event, literally had her world turned upside down. She wasn’t the first to experience it and she wouldn’t be the last. And while she was willing to agree that some things were inevitable and possibly forgivable, if not entirely acceptable, when a person was fighting for survival, picking yourself up and going forward was the only acceptable ending.

Taking a deep breath, she got up and looked through her tote for a change of clothing.

Money, thankfully, wasn’t an issue for her even though it had been for a good many years of her life—especially her earliest. She was conservative. She’d put most of what she’d made for years up, invested it.

She certainly wasn’t ready to retire, but, taking her tendency to minimize into account, she probably could if she’d wanted to.

She didn’t want to.

She wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life hiding or running.

Because she knew it was insane. There was no place in the world to hide or run to that would keep her safe.

Except the one she’d fallen into and that wasn’t hers.

And it wasn’t going to be hers, she thought glumly, staring at the packet in her bag—the bribe.

She’d told herself it was a gift—like a huge tip for service rendered. She still at least half believed the lie she’d told herself, but she knew, deep down in that place where she stuffed all things unpleasant, that she’d at least hoped it might convince them that she was worth keeping.

She knew you couldn’t beg, borrow, or steal affection—or buy it—the rational part of her brain did, anyway.

But there was nothing really reasonable about love. It was an emotion. You felt it or you didn’t.

People could ‘grow’ on you, of course, but the opposite was more a likely scenario.

Because people just couldn’t help being who they really were, deep down, and even though they knew which traits they had that they should hide to project ‘best’, they just couldn’t keep them hidden for very long. Inevitably, the ‘rot’ leaked out and was exposed. The person you’d conned with your peacock self abruptly saw you as you really were and that was the end of the romance—because they never actually loved you if they didn’t know who you were.

Like her many exes but most particularly the one she’d married, the one who’d gotten his head blown off.

Resolutely, she took the thick envelope and headed out of the room.

She heard the low hum of the guys’ voices until she reached the stairs and they realized she was coming down. She paused, took in a sustaining breath and started down the stairs.

“Feelin’ better?” Connor asked as soon as she came into view.

She felt her face heat. “Yes. Thank you.”

“I was just about ta go up an’ wake ye,” Kiran said. “Ye hungry?”

Dana hesitated, but then she told herself there was no sense in ruining dinner when Connor had gone to the trouble to cook. “Sure. It smells fantastic.”

“Hopefully it’s edible,” Kiran murmured provokingly.

Connor gave him a look. “Any time ye feel like jumpin’ in ….”

Kiran laughed. “Any time ye feel tha need ta drop a few pounds, I’m in.”

Dana smiled at their good natured banter and asked where the dishes were so she could set the table.

“Nae tonight,” Connor said.

Dana felt her smile waver. “Ah! Tonight I’m special!”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Yer always special, luv.”

Dana blushed. “And you’re always sweet to me,” she said, struggling for a teasing note that fell flat even to her own ears. She glanced at Kiran. “Both of you.”

Setting the envelope on the counter, she headed into the small downstairs bathroom to wash up. They were waiting for her when she got out. Kiran helped her with her chair.

She knew it was ‘old fashioned’, and she certainly didn’t need help, but it was nice. And with them, she was convinced it was purely out of courtesy and not a ‘statement’. Because they hadn’t acted like what she wanted or needed was immaterial to them.

She smiled at them when they’d seated themselves. “This is … really nice.”

Connor’s eyebrows rose questioningly.

Awkward.

“I mean the calm,” she said with a slightly forced chuckle. “I don’t feel like we’re running from anybody.”

“Ah,” Kiran said, nodding and reaching for a plate. He passed it to her to help herself and she passed it to Connor when she saw that Kiran had picked up a different dish. “Not entirely convinced of it yet, meself.” He grunted when Connor stomped his foot under the table. “What?”

Connor rolled his eyes.

Dana bit her lip. “I know it isn’t settled with the company, but really, in my mind it is. There’s no reason for him to try to kill me when I’ve made it known to so many people that I suspect him. If anything happens to me now, they’ll all know it was him.”

“Nae much consolation, though,” Connor muttered.

She chuckled. “No. It wouldn’t be, but he’s no idiot even if he is mildly insane. He was trying to cover his tracks. Desperate to. He won’t do anything that would directly implicate him.”

“Hopefully,” Kiran agreed and moved his leg before Connor could stomp his foot again.

Amused even though it also made her sad to think how much she was going to miss them, Dana did her best to redirect their attention. “This is good. Really good. Who taught you to cook? I know it wasn’t Kiran,” she added teasingly.

Connor studied her, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Me grandmother, o’course.”

Dana felt her smile flat-line. She thought for a moment that she would choke on the bite of food she’d just chewed up and tried to swallow. “No wonder it’s so good,” she managed finally.

Connor and Kiran both studied her surreptitiously.

“Yer grandmother teach ye how ta cook?” Kiran asked after a moment, wincing when Connor kicked his shin.

Dana smiled with an effort. “I guess … sort of. She … uh … sent me to live with some cousins before I learned much more than the basics.”

“Why would she do that?”

That took more of a struggle. She sucked in a sustaining breath. “Well … I guess she knew she wasn’t going to live much longer and she wanted to make sure I was in a good place before ….”

“What about yer mother?” Kiran demanded, ignoring every attempt Connor made to divert him.

That was actually easier, although she supposed it shouldn’t have been. “She died of cancer several years before that. That was why I was living with my grandmother.” She paused a moment and drank some of the iced tea to calm herself. “And my father wasn’t in the picture at all, so …. Anyway, my cousin wasn’t much for cooking so I’m like the worst cook in the world.” She smiled at Connor a little more easily. “That’s why I can really appreciate someone who has the skills.”

“Maybe I could teach ye?”

Dana felt her heart swell. It was one of those ‘promising’ comments he made just often enough to keep hope alive even when it should have died a natural death long ago. “That would be nice!” She frowned. “Although, that’s my ‘diet’—how I watch my weight.” She laughed. “I cook so bad I never eat that much.”

“Yer nae addicted ta take out, then?” Kiran asked.

She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m just too lazy and too much of a tightwad. I go out occasionally—a couple times a month, anyway. But I worry about my weight, too, because I was a fat kid, so I don’t want to develop any bad habits.”

Connor shook his head at her. “Ye’ve nae need ta worry about yer weight.”

“Especially ….” That time when Connor kicked him under the table, he hit him hard enough to get his attention.

“Especially …?” Dana prompted when he stopped to rub his shin.

He sent Connor a sullen glare, got up from the table, collected his plate and glass, and then moved to the bar. “Nuthin’,” he muttered when he’d settled and then glared at Connor and growled, “Ye need ta get them spasms looked in ta, Connor.”

Connor met her gaze. “Nerve damage from an old wound,” he muttered and focused on his food.

Dana was horrified at that admission. She really wanted to ask him about the wound, but, after a moment’s thought, she wasn’t convinced it was true at all.

Connor was watching Kiran’s tendency to blurt out anything that came to his mind more assiduously than usual, she thought, but she couldn’t think of anything he might be trying to block. Even going back over the conversation they’d had, it seemed to her that, mostly at least, he’d been trying to divert Kiran from bringing up anything that might be painful for her.

Which was actually very typical of Connor.

And, well, Kiran was Kiran. He wasn’t insensitive or cold or deliberately hurtful. He just wasn’t inclined to consider anything he said before he said it.

He was as honest as a child—who’d never been taught manners and civilized things like that.

She clearly recalled her grandmother telling her, angrily, that if she couldn’t think of anything nice to say to keep her mouth shut. Nobody wanted to hear ‘hurtful’ honesty and it was no way to be if you wanted to get along with others.

In Kiran’s case, though, she knew he wasn’t trying to be mean and that made it easy enough to forgive him when he stomped all over her feelings.

She thought she was going to miss that, maybe more than anything else.

Which was totally silly, of course.

But she loved him—flaws and all.

And she loved Connor despite his flaws, too.

She wasn’t blind to their imperfections because she loved them. She accepted them because she loved them.

Her belly knotted at those thoughts, but she managed to do justice to the meal Connor had cooked and then she insisted on cleaning up.

Well, she helped Kiran who was relegated to clean up since he didn’t do the cooking and he was happier cleaning, clearly, than cooking.

Connor didn’t look especially pleased that she was determined to stay in the kitchen and clean, but he settled at the bar and watched.

Thankfully, he wasn’t the sort to ‘supervise’ while he watched, but then she suspected that might be because his gaze was glued to her ass the whole time.

She began to wonder if she’d sat in something, but, although she brushed at it surreptitiously several times, she didn’t feel anything and she finally had to conclude it was the ‘twitching’ of her movements that had him riveted.

Or he was horny.

That last thought warmed her and gave rise to a reluctance to follow through with ‘the plan’ she’d made—just to put it off a little longer—but she resolutely dismissed it as just another excuse. There was no reason why she couldn’t go through with it and still have sex with them that she could see. She couldn’t see them objecting.

Not that she thought she could actually, blatantly, offer. She wasn’t even sure she could think of anything subtle to do to entice them.

But she couldn’t let herself find another excuse to put off the inevitable. She should have done it long since.

Finally, the kitchen was thoroughly cleaned and Dana realized her moment of truth had arrived. Her belly instantly knotted with reluctance, but she took a deep breath to tamp it down and picked up the envelope before she followed the guys into the Great Room to look for entertainment.

“Before we get started, I have something I wanted to give to you guys,” she said a little hesitantly.

Both of them turned from the cabinet where they’d been studying the titles on the videos stored there and looked at her with an odd mixture of reluctance and resignation.

No confusion.

It bolstered her confidence to realize they’d been expecting it.

It really was time, she realized, extending the hand with the envelope. “I know you guys were hired by Brandon to do a job. And you were right. You did your job and you deserved to be paid for it. But I wanted you guys to know how very much it meant to me that both of you took such good care of me … all this time.”

Neither of them said anything or approached her to take the envelope.

“It’s … just a gift to show you how much I appreciate both of you … for taking care of me.”