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Curiosity ate at him, and Jackson really wanted to know what was going on, but he’d fucked up and even though it killed him to remain silent, he bit his tongue every time a question almost popped out.
Jackson hadn’t gotten fifteen miles from town before he’d pulled over.
The scene from the night before had played over and over in his mind and Jackson had to question if he’d been making the right decision. He’d been haunted by Finn’s soft words and Michael’s sweet smile. Try as he might, Jackson hadn’t been able to force himself to leave.
He’d driven in circles as he thought about all the special times that he’d spent with Finn and Michael. Surprisingly, Jackson hadn’t just remembered all the sex, although the sex was spectacular. It had been dozens of little moments that he’d thought fondly back on. Sometime from the time that Jackson had decided to test the club’s security and the present, Jackson had fallen in love.
Love. The word was so foreign to him that Jackson found it hard to even think it. He knew for certain that he had never said the word out loud to anyone. Maybe that was what was throwing him off his usual cocky attitude. What he felt for Finn and Michael was real. Which meant that Finn and Michael could hurt him. And that was unacceptable.
If the two people that had brought him into this world hadn’t loved him, how could anyone else? Emotional trauma, who him? Jackson had come to terms with his limits long ago. He hadn’t expected to ever find himself in this position. And he wasn’t talking about being driven down a dark deserted road. That he would have suspected happening to him years ago. No, Jackson had felt lust, passion, admiration for others but never love.
He’d almost taken off again when he realized why he wasn’t able to get farther than fifteen miles from town. He’d restarted the motorcycle but found himself driving in circles. For hours. Just before Finn had shown up, Jackson had been ready to admit defeat. He hadn’t been sure how to go approaching Finn and Michael and admitting that he needed them. Jackson actually needed his men like he’d ever needed anyone before. Even his team had a different dynamic. Jackson enjoyed working with the others, but they weren’t essential to his life.
Just the thought of never seeing Finn and Michael again had almost caused him to crash his bike into a ditch. He couldn’t even breathe when he thought about not seeing Michael’s sweet smile or feeling him cuddling close in his arms. His heart ached knowing that he had disappointed Finn and wouldn’t hear that sexy growl against his neck.
No, it was time for Jackson to man up.
He opened his mouth to do just that when Finn took a sharp turn and a well-lit gorgeous cabin came into view.
Jackson was speechless as he took in the gorgeous dark-wood cabin with its wraparound porch and shining lights. The door opened as Finn pulled the truck in front of the cabin and there stood Michael, in jeans and an oversized hoodie.
He gasped. Michael was so fucking special, and Jackson had almost lost him. Standing beneath the white light next to the door, Michael looked like an angel. Jackson knew he didn’t deserve anyone as nice and kind as Michael, but damn it, he wanted him. Couldn’t Jackson just have one or actually two things in his life that he really wanted?
Finn’s hand came down on his knee and squeezed. “I didn’t tell him that you took off again.”
Fuck! “We don’t have to,” he whispered. Cowardly? Yeah. Did Jackson care? Nope. Not if he could avoid hurting Michael.
“We do,” Finn said firmly. “Well, you do. We’re not going to start this relationship on a lie.”
So, were they going to have a relationship? Or was Finn talking about him and Michael without Jackson? Because even though Jackson realized he couldn’t live without the other two, that didn’t mean that they felt the same. Jackson wanted to believe. God damn! He wanted to believe so badly.
Michael took a couple steps farther onto the porch before stopping and hugging himself. Probably wondering why Finn and Jackson were still sitting in the truck. Jackson hated the look of doubt that crossed Michael’s face.
Without thinking about it, Jackson flung off his seatbelt and opened the door. He was in such a hurry he almost fell out of the lifted truck, but he landed on his feet before stumbling into a run. He wrapped his arms around Michael, pulling him close, as soon as he reached him.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson whispered to Michael. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Michael was hugging him back. Tight. That had to mean something, right?
“I won’t do it again,” Jackson promised. “I swear to fucking God!” Was it him or Michael who was shaking? Jackson couldn’t tell. All he knew was that there was no way in hell that he could let Michael go at that moment.
“It’s going to be okay.” Finn’s strong hand cupped the back of his head as his heat crowded Jackson’s back. “It’s all going to be okay.”
He’d needed to hear the words. Even though there was so much to say still, Jackson wanted to soak in the feeling of having both Michael and Finn with him.
There was no doubt that they were going to have to talk and that was probably why Finn had driven him to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. He lifted his head from Michael’s neck to glance at Finn.
“Where are we?” Jackson asked.
“That’s what I was wondering,” Michael added.
“This cabin belongs to a friend of mine from the Marines. When life gets a little too much for any of us, we have free rein to come up here and take the time we need to get our head on straight. I asked if I could borrow it for the week and no one else needed it, so it’s ours.”
Jackson turned to tuck Michael under his arm as he stared at Finn. “We’re staying here for a week? Just the three of us?”
Finn nodded. “No one else. No distractions. The kitchen is fully stocked, so we don’t have to go anywhere. We’re going to talk.”
“Talk?” Michael questioned.
