Muscling In (10 page)

“What are you thinking,
Coben?” I asked, gently resting my hand on his knee.

He didn’t look at me. “Why has
he come here? All this way on a hot day in leathers? He must have other things
to do. Leave is so precious.”

“Because he wants to be with
you.” I gave a small shrug. “It’s not rocket science.”

“But…there’s nothing between
us.” He spoke slowly as if the words in his brain were only just formed as they
came out.

“There’s something still
there. You can’t deny that.”

“And you?” He looked at me, a
slight frown in place. “You really mean everything you say about threesomes?
About not being bothered about mine and Edward’s history.”

“You know I mean it. I wear my
heart on my sleeve. If I’m not happy with something I’ll tell you. If I want
something I’ll tell you.” I rubbed his knee. “So don’t look so tense. Life is
meant to be fun
some
of the time, you
know. Just go with the flow. Enjoy your day at the beach.” I hesitated. “Look,
turn around, face the sea and I’ll do your back.” I reached for the lotion.
“You can admire Ed as I do so.”

He said nothing but duly sat
on the end of the lounger facing the horizon so I could set about rubbing
protection onto his broad back. His skin wasn’t as dark as Ed’s but still held
a healthy golden glow that went with his blond hair perfectly. Today, with his
hair a bit over long he looked more like a surfer dude than a world-class
computer expert and fully trained fighting machine. But unlike a chilled surfer
he was tense beneath the surface of his flesh. I eased out a few knots beneath
his shoulder blades and ran the tips of my fingers down his spine.

He groaned quietly, then,
“That’s nice.”

“Let it go, the tension,” I
whispered into his ear, then kissed his temple. “Forget work, it’s just here
and now. Nothing else but the sun, the sea, the waves…us.”

“I know.”

“And Edward is pretty good at
switching off by the looks of it.”

“He never switches off.”

I watched Ed emerging from the
waves, shiny and sleek and his body hair flattened to his chest and legs. The
swimshorts were plastered to his groin, the half-leg tat seemingly extra dark
now the sun was making the un-inked skin gleam. He was a vision of perfection
for a girl like me who had a fondness for the military type whose bodies looked
like they held more opportunities for sin than was humanly possible. “Bloody
hell,” I muttered.

“Fucking hell,” Coben said
quietly.

“He’s doing it on purpose.”

“What?”

“That, this…fucking Daniel
Craig thing, Bond, walking out of the sea looking irresistible.”

Coben chuckled and I finally
felt him relax a fraction beneath my palms.

“Yeah,” he said, “he always
was good at playing the game.”

“What game?”

“Making everyone want him, for
their own reasons of course.”

“But he hasn’t always had
everything he wants.”

“Why do you say that?” Coben
half turned to me, squinting in the sunshine.

“Because he didn’t get you.”

“He did for a while.”

“But not forever. Not the way
I have you.”

He smiled. “You certainly do
have me. I’m all yours.”

“And a little bit his.” I
twitched my eyebrows and looked up as Ed’s shadow engulfed us.

“That was good,” Ed said,
reaching for a towel. “Been in warmer seas but I’ll take the English Channel
over them all.”

“Why?” I asked, moving back to
my own lounger. “When you could be anywhere.”

 
“It’s home.” He held my gaze for a moment,
then buried his face in the towel and rubbed.

“Yep, something nice about
being on home ground when you’ve been away,” Coben agreed.

“Too right.” Ed dropped the
towel on his lounger and sat.

“Want a drink?” Coben asked.

“Sure.”

Coben passed him a can of
Coke.

“Did you only pick up Coke?” I
asked.

“Er…” Coben looked in the
coolbox. “Shit, yeah, sorry.”

“Oh bugger. I put lemonade out
too.”

“You don’t like Coke?” Ed
asked.

“No, it gives me
palpitations.” I tutted. “Silly really when I can drink wine like it’s going
out of fashion, but give me a cola and I’m fluttering like a butterfly.” I
laughed. “It’s okay, I’ll go for a wander and buy myself something.” I
indicated up the beach.

“No, I’ll go.” Coben stood.
“It’s my fault. I should have picked it up.”

“I think maybe I forgot to get
it out of the fridge, thought about it but didn’t do it.” I stood too, my feet
sinking into the fine sand. “It’s okay, though. I don’t mind a stroll. We’ve
been sitting in the car for ages. You two start on the sandwiches. I’ll be back
soon.”

“You sure?” Coben asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll go if you want,” Ed
said, giving a nonchalant shrug.

“Seriously, I’m quite capable
of wandering up the beach and getting a drink.” I reached for my purse. “Anyone
want anything?”

“I think we’re good,” Coben
said, indicating the full picnic basket. “Everything I can think of is in here
except for lemonade.”

“Okay, see you in twenty.” I
donned a straw hat, then wandered down to the shoreline, planning on walking on
the harder sand that would be easier for my journey.

I didn’t glance back. I wanted
the men to have a few minutes together. I felt Coben needed to assess the lay
of the land, find out why Ed had agreed to join us—if he was brave enough to
ask, that was.

It took me a while to find a
shop that sold what I wanted but soon I was wandering back to our little
hideaway with the sun beating down on my shoulders. The crowds thinned as the
dunes came into sight and I was glad of the dulling of the sounds of the busy
promenade and the excited children. I was lost in my own thoughts, enjoying the
feel of the waves washing rhythmically over my feet, tickling my ankles and
fizzing around my toes.

When our windbreak came into
view I angled away from the shore and headed back to the men. The breeze caught
my hair and I enjoyed the freshness of the air after a week in the city. As I
rounded the end of the windbreak I paused.

Coben and Ed were sitting on
the same lounger, mine, the one in the shade. They were side on to each other,
their feet in the sand, their shoulders just touching. Beside them lay the
remnants of some of the savory snacks I’d added to the picnic basket.

Ed had his head bent low,
apparently absorbed in burying his toes. Coben was looking at him.

Something had just been said.

I had no idea what.

“Hey.” I held on to the pole
that supported the windbreak. “Things get too hot in the sun?”

Both men looked up quickly.

Coben unknotted his fingers.

“Yeah,” he said, “hot.”

I took a seat opposite them,
mimicking their position. “So what are you chatting about?”

Ed studied me, a steely look
in his eyes.

I held his gaze. “Something
you can’t tell me, right?” I smiled. “I get the picture.”

“Sian,” Coben said with a
frown.

I popped the ring on my can of
lemonade and took a long drink. Once I’d swallowed the refreshing liquid I
smiled, hoping to lighten the situation I’d walked in on. “There’s a lot to
admire here.” I pointed to Ed’s tattoo. “So much going on. Everything is
significant, you said.”

“Yes, it all means something
to me.” He hitched the hem of his shorts a fraction, revealing the full
wingspan of the bird I’d added. It wasn’t quite healed but it looked as though
it was doing fine.

“The
M
and
D
,” I
said, “Mum and Dad, am I right?”

He smiled. “Yeah, that’s an
easy one.”

“And this,” Coben said,
hovering his index finger above what looked like a tornado with palm trees on
either side, “is a reminder of Afghanistan.”

“You have a good memory,” Ed
said, looking at him.

“Yes.” Coben paused. “I have.”

Where you’re concerned, Coben
, I wanted to add but held
myself back. “And this new one, the one I did?” I asked instead.

“A recent…expedition.”

“I like it,” Coben said.
“Couldn’t have been easy.”

“Never easy, but always
possible.” Ed leaned back, his hands behind him and his elbows locked.

I wanted to ask what hadn’t
been easy, because it obviously meant more to Coben than it did to me, but I
knew they weren’t likely to explain. Instead I allowed the
C
above Ed’s
knee to catch my eye. It was nestled in ivy leaves and beneath them was the
image of a heart broken in two. The halves had jagged edges, like a jigsaw
pulled apart.

A
C
? With a broken
heart? Was it a symbol of having loved and lost Coben?

Curiosity ate me up. I
suddenly had to know. “What does the
C
stand for?” I almost but not
quite touched it as I once again pointed.

Ed was silent. I thought he
wasn’t going to answer, then, “Someone.”

“Someone you loved and lost,”
I said, purposely not looking at Coben.

“Why would you say that?” Ed
asked, the barest trace of a frown etching across his brow.

“Because there’s a broken
heart beneath it, wrapped up in these ivy leaves and tendrils. It’s like the
C
and the cracked heart are bound together by the branches.”

“Perceptive,” Ed said, the
right side of his mouth twitching into a half-smile.

I swallowed. My heart was
pounding. I was going to do it. I was going to lay the cards on the table,
point out the elephant in the room. It had to be done. “Does the
C
stand
for Coben?”

Chapter Six

“Sian,” Coben snapped, his
eyes narrowing.

I swept my tongue over my
bottom lip. I’d said it now, put forward the question. It couldn’t be taken
back.

“Why would you think that?” Ed
asked, looking as cool as ever and not glancing at Coben despite the fact Coben
was also staring at the
C
and the heart.

Is he making the connection as well?

“I just…sense something
between you two.”

“Oh?” Ed raised his eyebrows.

“I really think—” Coben
started.

“I really think I need to be
in the loop here, guys.” I shrugged. “You’ve got to admit, you’ve acted pretty
strange together.”

“What do you mean?” Ed gave a
small laugh.

“Well, at the Sterns’ you
acted like complete strangers, more than strangers, like two men who held
contempt for each other, but then yesterday you were best buddies drinking beer
around a BBQ. And now…” I paused. “I come back and find you all cozy and close
and sharing a picnic.” I tried to keep my voice soft and understanding because
I did understand. Equally I recognized the need for Ed to only tell me if he
wanted to.

“I don’t know about cozy. We
were just sitting in the shade…” Coben said, his words trailing off as Ed
reached for my hand and pressed it between his.

He stared at our connection
and sighed. “Tell me, Sian. What loop do you think you’re being kept out of?”

I tipped my chin. “You and my
husband. There is something going on that’s more than ex-comrades.”

“Like…?”

“Like that
C
on your
leg. It’s not for Caroline or Catherine or Carrie, is it?”

He gave me a look that I would
imagine, for anyone being interrogated by him in a hostile situation, would
have been terrifying. But for me it was intriguing. I was the interrogator, not
him, and I wanted him to open up and be honest with me, because he could. I was
safe territory.

“I think it represents my
husband,” I went on, “who I love with all my heart.” I glanced at Coben. He had
his head tipped and wore a deathly serious expression. I wondered if he wanted
the conversation to continue or stop. I calculated he wanted it to continue
otherwise he would have drawn me up before now. He knew me well enough to know
what I was alluding to and what I would soon be saying. Maybe he wanted me to
be the one to say it. Perhaps that’s how it had to be.

“I’m pleased Coben found a
good woman to spend his life with.” Ed filled my pause in conversation, dodging
around my statement.

“Thank you, we’ve committed to
each other till death do us part. However…”

“What?” Ed asked.

“We both have pasts. We both
have desires, fantasies, hopes for the future.”

“That’s how it should be.
You’re very lucky to have each other.”

“We think so. But the thing
is, Ed.” I turned my hand within his and wrapped my fingers around the edge of
his big palm. “Those pasts are colorful. They’re erotic. They’re also not a
secret between us.”

“Secret?”

“Yes, we tell each other
everything.”

For the first time Ed gave
away a sign of discomfort. A small nerve twitched in the corner of his right
eye, just once, almost like a wink but not one he’d controlled.

“Edward,” Coben said. “I…”

“What did you tell her?” Ed
turned to Coben. As he did so he untangled his hands from mine and placed them
on his thighs, fingers spread.

“Nothing…she…” Coben reached
for Ed’s hand, the one nearest him. “Guessed.”

“No one has ever fucking
guessed
.” Despite his harsh words his
voice was still low and he let Coben hold his hand.

“No one has ever known me as
well as she does.” Coben shook his head. “The moment she saw us together, the
moment I saw you in that room…” He shut his eyes and pressed his lips tight. “I
knew…”

Ed pulled in a deep breath.
“What?
You
knew what?”

“That this…us…it would get
complicated.” He raised their joined hands.

“Us? There is no
us
.” Ed pulled his fingers away and
clenched them.

Coben looked down at the sand.
“Yes there is. I can’t be around you and not be affected by you, Edward. It’s
the way it’s always been.” He set his attention on me as though judging my
reaction to his words.

It wasn’t news to me. Their
effect on each other was crystal clear, palpable, as was their unspoken
history. But it was obviously still a difficult thing for them to admit to. “It’s
not complicated,” I said. “It’s perfectly simple.”

“It’s never been simple.” Ed
shook his head.

I was relieved he didn’t sound
angry, just resigned.

“This.” Coben traced the
letter
C
on Ed’s thigh. “You didn’t have it the last time I saw you.”

“But you know how I’ve always
added to this artwork, so you’re not surprised.”

“No. I’m not surprised.” He
touched the broken heart beneath the letter. “And it hurt me too when we had to
end it. I missed you. I missed what we’d had, the connection.” He lowered his
voice. “I was in love with you.”

My heart went out to my
husband. He was being so brave, wearing his emotions on his sleeve, giving
permission for the past to be spoken about, not just between them but also in
front of me.

Ed frowned. “This is hard, you
know.” He looked between me and Coben. “I’m not used to talking about this,
about what we had, what we were back then. It’s been locked in here for many
years.” He clenched his fist and banged it on his chest. “It’s never been
talked about.”

“But you can trust Sian,”
Coben said. “We can discuss it openly with her. In fact I need to. She’s my
wife. I’ve kept all this buried for years but now it’s surfaced again, it needs
to be out into the open, between us three. I’m a package now. That’s what
marriage does. It binds two people together, and we, Sian and I, we can’t have
secrets.” He paused. “And if it makes you feel any better, I’d trust her with
my life. The way I’ve trusted you with my life in the past.”

“Yeah, I saved your ass on
more than one occasion.”

“I returned the favor,” Coben
shot back.

They shared a look and I
wondered what god-awful situation they were remembering.

“You can trust Sian,” Coben
repeated. “I give you my word.”

“I give you my word too,” I
said. “Besides, I’m not in the habit of discussing intimate details of my life
with other people. It’s between Coben and I, and if you’re part of that
intimacy then that’s also confidential. My lips are sealed. I understand the
need for discretion, especially in the line of work you do and Coben once did.”

Ed was quiet for a moment,
then, “Thank you, Sian, that makes me feel better. But I’m not ready…”

“To come out?”

“No, it’s not that. There’s no
need to come out. I’m not gay. There’s only ever been Coben. I’ve never…never
been with another man.”

“You haven’t?” Coben seemed
surprised. “Not even since…?”

“No, only you.”

Coben cupped his cheek.
“Really?”

A small thrill went through
me. They were making progress. I could sense it. They were talking about
them
in front of me.

“Yeah, really. Guess you ruined
me for all other men.” Ed huffed but managed a small smile.

They were silent for a moment,
just looking at each other.

“There was a woman,” Ed said
suddenly. “Helen.”

Coben nodded, just a little,
and removed his hand. “What happened?”

Ed frowned and glanced at his
thigh. He touched a rosebud on a thorny stem that grew up his outer thigh. “She
couldn’t hack it. The job, you know.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it happen to
others.”

“It was just too much to
expect of anyone. I called it a day. I was dragging her down, making her life a
misery. There’s no other way to describe it.”

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head.
“Really sorry.”

He kind of shrugged. “It was
for the best. I wasn’t there, couldn’t tell her where I was, when I’d be back,
when I’d be going again. Don’t get me wrong, when we were together it was a
blast, a really hot fucking sexy blast. What we had was intense.” He half
smiled. “But the black places she went to when she was alone, worrying about
where in the damn world I was. No one should have to go through that.
Imagination is worse than reality and it was worse for her being left behind
agonizing about me than it was for me out there getting shot at and hunted and
ducking and diving.” He touched the scar on his face. “It was worse for her
than me,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry if you really cared
about her, that you lost her,” Coben said.

“She was totally heartbroken,
but not like me. I’d ripped away the one thing I’d enjoyed coming back home
for. The one thing that got me through shitty nights sleeping in ditches, hiding
out in rat-infested caves. When we finished that one sweet thing I had was
gone.”

“How long were you together?”
I asked.

“Two years and two months. We
were at the stage it was commit with a ring and all that, or split.”

Coben nodded. “It’s got one of
the highest divorce rates out there, your profession.”

“I know, and I didn’t want to
put myself or Helen through the agony of divorce, and it would have ended that
way, or her going insane with worry. I didn’t want either on my conscience.”

“And are you still in touch
with her?” I asked.

“No.” He looked steadily at
me. There was sadness in his eyes. “Clean break, it’s the only way to handle
these situations. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, just got to do it and forget
about it.”

“The way we did,” Coben said.

“Yeah, except as you just
pointed out.” He turned to face Coben. “Now it’s got a whole lot more
complicated.”

Coben leaned closer to him. He
set a soft kiss on Ed’s tanned shoulder and lingered for a moment as if
savoring skin against his lips.

Ed’s mouth parted slightly. He
shut his eyes.

I watched, fascinated by the
simple connection. The display of affection that wasn’t overtly sexual and was
only the tip of the iceberg of what these two men had between them. But yet
held so much tenderness—tenderness that wouldn’t be normally associated with so
much brawn and muscle.

Three children running past
with a ball suddenly caught my attention. Their shouts and cries of delight
were high-pitched and echoed around our small hideaway. “Hey, you two. There’s
a ball in that bag. Why don’t you play volleyball or something while I eat my
sandwich. We’re supposed to be having fun, after all, not being so serious.”

Ed straightened and looked at
the kids who were racing away from us and kicking up sand behind them.

“Yeah, you’re right. Come on,”
Coben said, reaching into the bag I’d indicated. “Not that Ed stands a chance.
I am a volleyball king.”

“Yeah, right.” A sudden grin
sliced over his face. “I seem to remember hammering you in the past.”

“Only because you had Lofty on
your team. No one could get anything past him. His head was in the clouds.”

Ed chuckled and followed Coben
to a flat piece of sand about twenty meters away.

After reaching for a
coronation chicken wrap I settled back in my shady spot. I was content to watch
the men flexing their muscles as they raced for the ball, lobbing it over an
imaginary net above a sand drawn line.

Ed laughed as he missed a
shot. His face was now a picture of relaxation after the tension of minutes
ago. Either he was really good at hiding his feelings or, like Coben, he
relaxed after he’d gotten something off his chest and using up adrenaline with
physical activity was a bonus.

And he had opened up. A lot. I
hated that Ed had walked away from two people he’d loved and I hated that Coben
had missed this person who was so special to him for so long.

How could he not have told me?

For a moment I was hurt by
that, a small dagger that twisted in my side. But then I hadn’t told Coben
everything
about myself—who did? I’d
tried a golden shower with an ex—wasn’t really my thing but he’d enjoyed it.
Once I’d gone down on a guy in the theater.
Miss Saigon
, if memory
served me right. It was so boring I had to do something to spice up the
evening. I hadn’t shared those facts with my husband. Not because they were
secret, but because they didn’t make any difference to us now.

Is that how he’d always viewed
his relationship with Ed? Something that didn’t matter to us?

Well it damn well did now.
Which, thank goodness, was why he’d told me. I took another bite of my wrap, my
emotions settling again.

I saw Coben race for the ball,
hands clenched together in a thick fist, the muscles in his back tensing as he
hurtled through the air and reached it just in time. He flicked it up,
ten…fifteen feet, in Ed’s direction.