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He frowned. “They weren’t just naked photos, Keira. They were of the three of us having sex.”
“So?”
“You would really want people seeing that? They would have made them public, sweetheart.”
She swallowed heavily. “Maybe I would have preferred that to you rejecting us.”
That hurt. Fuck, that hurt. That he’d meant something to them, and he’d thrown it away. He forced himself to look at Julian. The other man shrugged.
“I get it,” Julian told him. “Your reputation. Your company’s reputation. All we had was a ghost-ridden, stinky house and a crappy car. You had an empire, people relying on you. Couldn’t have anyone finding out your dirty little secret.”
“Do not say that about yourselves,” he growled.
“If you weren’t ashamed of us, then you wouldn’t have wanted to hide us away in some apartment, you wouldn’t have run at the first sign our rendezvous could be made public,” Julian said calmly.
“I am not ashamed of the two of you. Of us. And it wasn’t a rendezvous.” He let out a breath. “I made a mistake. I chose the company over the two of you. I made a mess of things. I’m not denying any of it. I know I fucked up. But I was raised to believe that the Saxon empire was the only thing that mattered. That it came first. I was never allowed to care about people. If I showed any sign of interest in anyone, my father took them away from me. I think he kept Joel and I at odds with each other because he knew together, we’d be stronger than him. That we might figure out we could beat the old bastard. I didn’t learn until it was too late, and the two of you were gone, that all the power and money in the world meant nothing if you were alone and fucking heartbroken.”
“We broke your heart?” Keira whispered.
“I broke my own heart the day I very coldly told you what we had meant nothing and I no longer wanted you in my life. When you left, I never found that part of myself again. That part that . . . that was fucking happy. For once in my life, with the two of you, I was fucking happy.”
“That’s the only time you were ever happy?” Keira’s eyes were wide.
“I’ve only ever been whole with the two of you. Each of you has a part of me, and I don’t think the jigsaw will ever be complete until you’re fitted next to me. The thing I don’t know is if you can ever forgive me, ever trust me again. If you even want to give me those pieces back.”
They watched him, silent and wary, sad and hopeful.
“Did you find who sent the photos?” Julian asked.
“Yeah. Eventually. It was Jerard Johnson. He was taken care of.” Cole had made certain of that.
Then Julian abruptly stood and picked Keira up in his arms. “Keira needs to sleep.”
His stomach dropped. But he got it. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. Not yet, anyway.
“Would you like me to go?” He prepared himself to leave. He’d hoped when he told them what had happened, they might show some reaction, show some hint of understanding. But he didn’t blame them a bit for guarding themselves.
Julian turned. “You can stay.”
“I’ll make up the bed in the spare bedroom,” Keira called out.
“You won’t,” Julian countered.
“You need to get to sleep, little bit.” She did, she looked absolutely exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was far too pale.
“It won’t take a moment to—”
“No,” both men barked at the same time.
Cole shared a look with Julian. At least on this, on caring for Keira, they could come together.
“I’ll sleep on the couch, little bit,” he told her.
She frowned. “But the bed will be more comfortable.”
“But if I’m here then I’m between the two of you and the front door.”
Julian stiffened. “I can protect her.”
