Eternal Brand (24 page)

Jet could do nothing to stop it. He bucked his hips and came, spilling his seed into the back of Brand's throat. Ripple after ripple of intense pleasure purled through him, causing uncontrollable shudders to rack his frame. It wasn't just an orgasm, it felt like a fucking religious experience. He was pretty sure he started speaking in tongues at one point.

Jet was panting by the time Brand released him and crawled up the bed until their faces were aligned. Brand's grin was cocky. “Good, huh?”

Jet shook his head. Good didn't cover it. “No…words.”

“That is so unlike you, Durante.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Brand did as instructed, but as good as it was Jet almost regretted asking. He was too out of breath to enjoy it. He turned his head to the side, breathing in much-needed air.

All his adult life he'd thought nothing could ever be better than having Brand loving him like this, but now that he finally had what he'd always fantasized about, he found there was more he wanted.

Emily. Her quirky humor and her sweet laughter and, yes, her body too. Jet loved how she softened Brand. He loved how she had made room for him in the life she'd shared with Brand. He loved
her
. There was no way he could give up on the idea of winning her back somehow. He and Brand together—surely she wouldn't be able to say no?

You're really doing this again? Are you a sucker for punishment?

“Shit,” he rasped. “I'm fucked.”

“We didn't get that far. You came like a teenaged boy.”

“Prick.” Jet smoothed a hand over Brand's forehead, noting the lack of frown lines. Not finding them there made him ludicrously joyous.
Yeah you're going for broke again, because you know it will make him happy.

“It was her, wasn't it? Thinking about her made you come so hard.”

Denial would only be a lie, and Jet never wanted there to be lies between them again. “Yeah. She's in my head no matter what I do.”

“And your heart. I know you're in love with her.” Brand snagged his gaze. “She's in love with you too.”

“Not the way she loves you.”

“It's not a competition.” Brand scowled, and Jet instantly regretted his words and how petulant they'd made him sound. “At least you'd never hurt her the way I did.”

Brand rolled onto his back and linked his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, lost in his regrets. Jet let him wallow a moment before he sidled closer to him once more and smoothed a hand over his broad chest. “She'll forgive you.”

“I wouldn't.”

“She's a better person than you.”

It was blunt and insulting, but rather than making Brand angry, Jet's statement brought his laugh back. “Smartass.” He grabbed a handful of Jet's hair and pulled him in so their lips brushed. “Or I should say smart.”

Jet caressed Brand's lips with his a moment, teasing him until he groaned. Instead of deepening the kiss, Jet pulled back and looked at Brand. “We'll find a way.”

“It's we, then?”

“Yeah, we have to try. I don't want to die wondering.”

Jet remembered he and Emily saying that to each other one morning, holding hands emotionally as they took a flying leap of faith that they'd be able to heal Brand's wounds. It seemed they'd had some success. If they could pull off that impossible feat, surely he and Brand could convince Emily to give a three-way relationship another try?

“If she doesn't want me back,” Brand began, his voice catching. “I'd rather she wasn't alone. A woman like her…she's made to be loved. The only other man I could stand to imagine her with is you, so if she sends me away—”

“She won't,” Jet cut him off. “And I promise never to tell Emily you even thought about handing her over to me like she was an old truck you were through driving.”

“You know that's not what I meant.”

“I know, and in a man-to-man way I appreciate it. But Emily would probably punch you in the balls, so let's never bring it up again.” Jet reached down and cupped him. “I like your balls the way they are.”

Brand's faint smile was poignant. In it Jet saw how truly scared he was that Emily wouldn't accept him, and it revealed how far Brand had to go before he had the kind of faith in himself he should have. He still thought he was a burden, damaged goods.

Jet's chest ached, but he knew nothing he could say would convince Brand that he was more than enough man for both him and Emily. He wouldn't truly start healing until Emily held him in her arms again.

Until they
both
did—he and Emily.

Jet put that on his mental to-do list, but for now he'd make Brand feel good in the best way he knew how. He wrapped his hand around his erect dick and slid it up and down until Brand's eyes closed on the pleasure.

“Damn you've got good hands.”

“I have a great mouth, too. Didn't you once tell me I could suck the shine off a doorknob?”

“Sounds like something I'd say,” Brand chuckled. He thrust his hips reflexively, moving in time with Jet's hand. “Jet…fuck. Put me out of my misery. I'm hurting here.”

Jet knew it all too well. Brand had been hurting for a long time. As he kissed a trail down Brand's body, Jet swore to himself the man he loved wouldn't hurt for much longer. He and Emily, they were going to heal him. He'd find a way to convince her to try again if she was resistant. He had to believe she'd want to. Her heart was too damn big.

The trouble with having a big open heart was that when it broke it felt like your entire being splintered and the best parts of yourself fell away, leaving…leaving what? Half a person? A hollow shell? An entirely new species?

Emily still wasn't sure what was left of her a week after Brand and Jet had exited her life. Every day seemed to bring a new element to her misery, so she knew she wasn't through grieving yet. She'd gone all in, and she'd lost the entire pot. She wasn't yet sure how she was going to move on.

Climb
she told herself as she rammed a shovel into the dirt of her front garden bed with more vigor than necessary.
Like climbing a ladder out of hell. You take it one rung at a time.

The rung she was currently stuck on was anger. That was one of the seven stages of grief, wasn't it? She'd been through denial. The night Brand left she hadn't wanted to believe he'd gone. She'd even called him, worried out of her mind and desperate to hear his voice. When she hadn't heard back, she'd had to accept the truth—Brand didn't want to be found. She'd spent the best part of the next three days in agony. She'd cried so much she ran out of tissues and had to start using a towel.

“Fat lot of good that did you,” she muttered to herself as she tilled more of the soil with sharp jabs.

“What did you say?”

It was Penny, who stood beside her wielding her own shovel. “Nothing,” Emily groused.

Penny sighed and went back to her shoveling. On the other side of Penny, Hope stood, loosening up the soil with a pitchfork because Emily only had two shovels. Hope sent her a dirty look, obviously irked that she'd been commandeered to do gardening.

Emily didn't care. Her sisters had come out here armed with a box of DVDs, all sappy chick flicks, and a huge tub of boysenberry-ripple ice cream, convinced she needed a girls' afternoon to help her over her funk. They'd been nonplussed to find Emily tearing up the front garden, determined to give it a new look. They'd been even more disturbed when she'd rejected the movies and told them if they wanted to help they'd better get a shovel.

The last thing she needed was to see Meg Ryan being all adorable and funny, or Julia Roberts smiling that huge smile.
Fuck Meg and Julia.
“Fuck Jet and Brand.”

She said that one loud and proud because it felt good. Apparently the anger stage meant she'd graduated to using the F-word outside the bedroom. Goodie for her.

“What did you say?” Penny asked.

“I said fuck Jet and Brand. They're a couple of fucking assholes.”

Hope chortled. “You tell it, sis.”

“I mean, who does that? Who just up and leaves without word after two years? And Jet just follows him like some…some trained Labrador. He just gave up. Didn't try to help me find him. Nothing. He's a jerk. They're both fucking jerks!”

Emily stuck the shovel into the ground with all her might. Unfortunately she hit a rock. The impact jolted her arm, sending a weird numbing pain through it. “Ouch! Shit.”

She dropped the shovel, unsuccessfully trying to kick it as it fell to the ground. She grabbed on to her throbbing upper arm and let out another string of swear words.

“Emily,” Penny said, surprised. “I've never seen you like this.”

“Yeah, well it bloody hurts.” She held on to her arm, but the sting in her eyes told her she was talking about more than that mild physical pain. “I mean I've never had my heart trampled by two men at once. Let me tell you, Pen, I wouldn't recommend it.”

Her sisters had both stopped shoveling and stared at her. Penny gave Emily a quizzical look, then she turned that same look on Hope. “Two men? What am I missing?”

“Ah, Pen. So sweet and innocent.” Hope hooked an arm around Penny's shoulders. “I figured it out at your party. Jet wasn't just a friend. Your sensible big sister was having some three-way fun out here in the sticks.”

“Oooooh.” Penny looked at Emily, wide eyed. “Really?”

“I wouldn't use the word ‘fun' considering how things ended up, but yeah.”

It was funny, but after all the stress Emily had endured imagining her sisters' reaction to her exploits, now that it was out she found she didn't care what they thought. They might approve or disapprove. Either way they were her sisters and she knew they loved her.

From the frown that marred Penny's features, Emily figured she was on the disapprove side. “That's just not on.”

Hope removed her arm from Penny's shoulders and glared at her. “Hey, Pen. There was a sexual revolution, you know. Women can sleep with whomever they want, whenever they want, wherever they—”

“Oh put a sock in your militant speech, Hope. I wasn't judging. I'm just annoyed that Emily would take two perfectly good men off the market.” Penny planted her hands on her hips and showed Emily the full force of her frustration. “It's greedy. There aren't that many good ones out there. Believe me when I say it's a minefield of jerks, losers and commitment-phobes.”

“Don't be so jealous, Pen,” Emily said. “Mine turned out to be jerks too, remember?”

“Oh I don't know. Jet didn't seem like a jerk. He was perfect other than the fact he wasn't interested in me. And I know Brand had problems, but anytime I saw you two together he was always very sweet to you. So protective and caring. I'd kill to have a man look at me the way he used to look at you.”

Hope slapped Penny on the arm. “Pen, stop.”

“Why? It's all true.”

Her vision had blurred, but Emily could see the moment Penny turned and saw her face. She ran forward, her arms outstretched. “I'm sorry, Em. You're right. They were both jerks. What do I know anyway?”

Emily sniffled into Penny's shoulder. She was so
pissed off
that she was crying again. She thought she'd cleared this step. If she was crying
and
pissed off, at what stage did that put her? The up-shit-creek-because-you-could-no-longer-predict-your-emotions stage? That sounded like a lot of fucking fun.

Hope came to stand behind her, and suddenly she was being enveloped in sisterly support, front and back. She'd been so stupid not to tell Penny and Hope about her situation. They would have been her cheer squad, not her jury. She saw that now. Would it have made any difference to Jet's decision to leave if she hadn't hid what she felt for him at Penny's party?

Would that have mattered if he'd stayed and Brand had left? They both would have been devastated. They could have helped each other. At least she would have had Jet.

You don't need Jet, remember? He's a big fat jerk and so is Brand.
Emily pushed out of her sisters' embrace and resolutely dried her tears. “No. I'm not crying over them anymore. I have to move on, keep busy.”

“By tearing up your azaleas?”

She gave Penny a tremulous smile. “Yeah. It's very therapeutic.”

“Well okay. Let's have at it then,” Hope said, picking up her pitchfork with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Let's picture stabbing the men with pitchforks while we work. I'll picture Dylan, Pen you can focus on Bryan and Em…you'll have to work twice as hard, you filthy girl.”

Emily laughed and, oh God, it felt good. It felt good to have her sisters beside her as she worked out her misery on the soil, working up a sweat and getting dirty in the warm afternoon sun. Before long she had to take off the shirt she'd put on over her tank top. Winter was in full swing, but the sun and her heartbreak-slash-rage kept her warm.

It was about a quarter to five when the sound of a car engine approaching made all three of them stop work and turn toward the driveway. A four-wheel drive was coming, a black and battered one with mud on the wheel rims and a smudged windscreen. Emily froze as she recognized the vehicle.
No, it couldn't be.

But it was. She'd know that old clunker anywhere. It was Brand's truck.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Emily's pulse broke into a frantic rhythm. Brand was here. As his truck pulled to a stop, she saw the passenger seat was also occupied and her heart went from merely frantic to borderline hysterical. The vehicle stopped, and both Brand and Jet alighted. The dogs went wild, bounding around their feet and moaning with pleasure when they received the expected rough pats.
Don't you go bounding over there like that, Emily Irving.

Penny clutched Emily's arm. “They came back for you,” she squeaked, ever the romantic.

“They'd better have some damn good groveling prepared,” Hope said, ever the hard case.

For seven nights she'd lain in bed alone, aching for them, wishing them both back to her. Now that they were here, Emily held back. Maybe they were here for her, maybe not. In any case, they had a lot of explaining to do.

She stood right where she was and watched Brand and Jet approach. Brand was wearing his favorite old jeans and denim jacket. Jet wore black jeans and a gray hoodie. Emily narrowed her eyes. She recognized a grass stain on the front pocket. That hoodie was Brand's.

They're together.

That was good, wasn't it? Unless they'd been together the whole time she'd been carrying on like a miserable wreck. If that was the case, she was going to knock someone's teeth out.

“Hi, Em.”

The familiar rasp of Brand's voice made her weak. Dear God, she'd missed his voice. Missed it whispering naughty things to her at night, and sweet things in the morning. Hearing it again filled her with the urge to run to him, just run to him and cling tight even after everything he'd done. It was galling. She was such a damn pushover where he was concerned.

Not anymore, Em. Have some damn pride.
She kept her voice cool. “Hello, Brand. Jet. What brings you both here?”

There you go. Very controlled. Well done.

Jet answered. “We were hoping we could talk to you.”

“Is that all you're offering?” It was Hope who spoke, her voice strident. “Talk?”

Jet glanced at her only a second before returning his gaze to Emily. “In private if we can.”

“Anything you have to say to her you can say in front of us.”

Wow. Now even Penny was adopting Hope's tough-girl stance. Her sisters flanked her like a couple of security guards, their arms folded across their chests. Brand and Jet exchanged a look. Clearly they'd expected to find her alone and didn't quite know how to handle the situation.

Emily didn't feel like helping them out. She stood in the middle of the Irving barricade, her arms crossed over her chest too.

Brand recovered the fastest. “We came—I came—to apologize.” He fixed Penny with a sincere look. “I'm sorry I ruined your party, Penny. I should have handled things better.”

Emily sensed the animosity seeping out of Penny as quickly as it had filled her. “Oh, you didn't ruin it. I heard those men were horrible anyway.”

“You're being too kind. Thank you.”

Penny waved a hand. “That's okay.”

“Pen-
ny.
” Hope reached across Emily and punched Penny on the arm. “Way to freeze the guy out.”

“Well I'm sorry. I told you I've always thought he was quite sweet.”

Brand's lips twitched. A little color stole into his cheeks before he glanced down at his feet. That touch of shy humility, so rarely shown and so unexpected in such a big, tough-looking man made Emily's heart fall end over end.

She couldn't believe she was being this easy. She was furious with herself. She channeled that fury and directed it outward. “So you apologized. Great. Is that all?”

Jet sent Brand a chagrinned look. “Told you we should have brought flowers.”

“The mood she's in today, she probably would have killed them,” Hope drawled.

Brand looked around at the azaleas lying on the ground, their roots exposed. “You have every right to be angry, Em.”

“Do I? Thanks for letting me know.” To her relief her anger was returning swiftly. “Is there anything else you came to say?”

Emily stared Brand down. Her resolve trembled when she saw her own pain and then some reflected in his gray eyes.

Then Jet spoke.

“We came to say we love you. We want to ask for another chance.”

It was what she'd dreamed of hearing for a week—well almost a week. For the past two days of that week, she'd stopped her hopeless wishing and moved on to enraged infuriation. That rage gave her strength now.

Or maybe it just made her bitchy and unforgiving.

“Is that all you've got?”

Emily realized she sounded a lot like Hope all of a sudden. Ironically, Hope didn't seem to approve. She leaned close and murmured, “Take it easy, sis.”

“Hope, you and Penny can go now.”

“What—just when it's getting interesting?”

“Hope, please. I need to talk to Jet and Brand alone. I'll be fine.”

“It's not you I'm worried about.”

“Come on, Hope.” Penny grabbed Hope's arm and started leading her away. “Let's give them some privacy.”

Hope went reluctantly. As she passed the men, she suggested
sotto voce
. “Gird your loins, boys.”

A moment later her sisters were gone, leaving Emily, Brand and Jet to stand silently in the front yard. Brand kept gazing at her with those sad eyes of his, and Emily had to look away. She swung her gaze toward Jet. “Where have you been?”

“I went to my mother's. Emily, listen—”

“No,” Emily interrupted, not in the mood to be told what to do. “Don't tell me to listen. I don't have to. I shouldn't, after what you both did. Hope's right, you should be groveling, not telling me I have to listen like I'm a child.”

“We don't think you're—”

Emily interjected again. “Have you been together this whole week? Have you been together all this time and are only now getting around to telling me?”

It was Brand who answered. “Of course not.”

“‘Of course not,' he says, like I'm supposed to know. How am I supposed to know anything about you anymore?” Her voice was rising, and she didn't even want to stop it. The anger was in control now, and she was glad. It made her strong. “That last night you were like a stranger to me. And then you disappeared and you haven't called me,
not once,
although I distinctly remember leaving a rather pathetic message on your voice mail begging you to do so. The man I love would never have left me like that. Who
are
you Brand?”

Brand looked stricken. “God, Em…”

“And you.” Emily dismissed Brand's attempt to speak and rounded on Jet once more. “I thought we were friends. You could have stuck around to support me. You of all people know how much it hurts to miss him.”

“I didn't think you wanted me around, Em. You didn't fight for me to stay.”

“I didn't
fight
for you?”

Of all the nerve. After everything she'd been through trying to get the three of them together, being the only one believing it could happen, Jet was accusing her of not fighting? That just took the cake.

“You want a fight?” Emily narrowed her eyes. “I'll give you a fight, buster.”

Jet only had a split second to react before Emily landed her fist in his stomach. All those years brawling with Hope when they were younger had to come in handy sometime. Jet groaned as the punch winded him. Filled with fury, Emily brushed past him and ran up the front stairs.

“Why me?” Jet called after her. “Brand's the one who broke your heart.”

Emily's only answer was the slam of the screen door as it closed behind her. She couldn't believe it. They were here like she'd so badly wanted them to be. They were finally here and she was losing her shit.

She couldn't stop to analyze why. Barely a second after she'd escaped inside, the door opened again and Jet stepped over the threshold. He advanced on her, his eyes gleaming. “You're angry with me.”

“No shit, Sherlock!”

“You're angry with
me,
not just Brand.”

“Give the man a cigar.”

“You're crazy furious because you missed me when I left.” He had the nerve to smile. “Only love can make a person act as nutty as you are.”

“You're calling me nutty? If you're here to try and win me back, that's hardly a good starting point.”

Jet's smile persisted as he took another step closer to her. “You really love me, don't you?”

“You have developed an unbelievably annoying habit of stating the obvious, Jet. I told you that already.”

“Not in so many words. And then you just let me walk out and I thought… Ah, Em.”

To Emily's unending shock, Jet pulled her up against him and kissed her. His mouth moved over hers, thrilling and passionate, and she felt herself responding before she even comprehended what he was doing. How could he be kissing her when she'd just been yelling at him? How could she be melting like overwarm ice cream when she was mad at him?

Crazy mad, like Jet had said. The kind of mad that came from a place of fear. She was scared to death to open herself to the possibility of all three of them again because it had hurt so much when it fell apart before. She was susceptible to their unique charms, and she wanted them both. But how could she trust that it would stick this time? Brand was still a mess and Jet was still…

Jet was still kissing her and she couldn't think sensibly while he was. She wrenched out of his embrace and backed away. “No no no. You're confusing me.”

“I don't mean to. It's just I'm crazy in love with you too, Em.”

His words were achingly sweet, his expression so sincere that it weakened Emily's resolve. She turned from him, only to be confronted by the sight of Brand standing in the doorway.

She hadn't noticed outside that his hair had grown, just enough to have lost its severe look. The light brown strands looked soft. He was clean-shaven and neat, but in his eyes she saw a tumult of regret and sorrow.

Emily's chest ached. But she had to hold on to her ire somehow. They both owed her more than a quick apology. “You hurt me.”

“I know.” Guilt flashed over his face. “I'd give anything to change it.”

“You can't.” Emily rubbed the heel of her hand over her chest, over the spot where the pain had been lodged all week. “It's not enough for you to come back and say you're sorry. You say you want another chance, but—wait. It was
Jet
who said you both wanted another chance. You, as usual, hardly said anything. How do I know what you want?”

“I want you.” His answer was unequivocal. “And Jet. I want all three of us together again, and this time I won't run from it.”

“How do I know?”

“I could give you my word, but I can see that wouldn't mean much right now.” He walked farther into the room, his steps quiet and careful, his eyes locked on hers. “I could ask you to marry me, but half of my heart will always belong to Jet and if they won't let me marry both of you, I can't choose just one. I could promise that I'm going to go into therapy to work through some of my shit, but you won't believe that until you see it happen so I guess I'm going to have to show you that in time.”

Emily's head spun both from his mention of therapy and his reference to marriage. She rejoiced at the knowledge that he would pledge his life to her legally if he could, but it was his admission that he might need professional help that meant the most. That was a big thing for a macho guy like Brand to accept.

Brand came to stand before her, and his closeness made her knees tremble. “I guess all I can do for now is say you can ask me anything you want to know and I swear to tell the truth.”

Emily remembered him saying much the same thing to her as they'd stood in her kitchen, fighting over the fact he'd kissed Jet. He'd promised to answer her questions, but she'd sensed his fear, his readiness to hedge. She didn't sense that now. There was a calmness in him that hadn't been there before.

He lowered himself to the sofa, perching on the edge of it and linking his hands together between his splayed knees. There was tension in his shoulders, but as he raised his eyes to hers once more, the shutters she was so used to seeing were gone.

“Ask me anything. I need your trust back, Em. I need you to believe in me because it's the only way I can start believing in myself.”

Oh, Brand.
She saw that he meant every word. He needed her that badly and was ready to open up to her about everything.

It was what she'd claimed to want for so long, but now that he was willing to do it, Emily was terrified. Brand's past, his emotions, his true self, seemed like a dark and desolate chasm that only the bravest would walk into. What if his stories broke her heart?

Emily, you coward. This is why you never pushed him. Not out of respect for his privacy but because you were afraid.

All her anger was gone, leaving nothing but shame and a renewed determination. She had to walk this journey with Brand. She needed to be strong for him. Her voice wasn't strong, but she pushed the first question out of her dry throat. “Where did you go?”

“I just drove, as far away as I could. I ended up in a town called Kelly. I met a Vietnam vet who made me realize I was wasting my life running from things.”

“Things?”

“Like you. And Jet. And the possibility of a future.”

Emily swallowed, but her throat remained clogged. “Why didn't you call me?”

“I didn't have my phone on. I didn't get your message for six days. Then at the same time I got a message from Jet's mother.” Brand glanced at Jet, who was standing just behind her. “I went there first.”

It shouldn't have stung to think he went to Jet first. Jet was his oldest friend. But Emily couldn't help the way she blanched.