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“Sure,” he lied because he didn’t want to open this can of worms with River—or anyone. “Why?”
“You haven’t been yourself the last couple of days.”
“A lot on my mind.”
River nodded. “The action at the lodge was a lot.”
True, but that hadn’t bothered him. In fact, it had almost been cathartic, even if Beck didn’t realize what a lucky son of a bitch he was to have both vengeance and closure. So Seth groped for something else to blame his sour mood on. Thankfully, he didn’t have to reach far. And maybe River could even help with this issue.
“My mother is getting married this fall in New York. She wants me to bring Heavenly to the wedding so she can meet the family.”
“But not Beck?” River raised a brow. “Oh, she doesn’t know about you three.”
“Nope, and I don’t know how to tell her. She’s super traditional. Catholic. Protective. Well-meaning, but…” He shrugged. “I just don’t want to make strife at her wedding. How does your sister handle this shit?”
“Hammer doesn’t have any family, and Liam’s welcomed their triad with open arms.”
He’d known that but hoped there had been some behind-the-scenes machinations to bring that about. Then again, he should have realized that Bryn and Duncan O’Neill would never want anything but sublime joy for their only son, no matter what that looked like.
River frowned. “Doesn’t your mom want you to be happy?”
Sometimes he swore Raine’s older brother could half read his mind. “She does. Totally. But I don’t know that she’ll ever understand why that’s with both a woman and a guy I definitely don’t fuck. Honestly, if I told her I was gay, she would take it better. But I also know I can’t hide my relationship with Heavenly and Beck forever. I don’t want to.”
“I get that. I mean, not firsthand. Dean and I tend to find a hot girl for the night and lose her number the next morning, so we don’t deal with the issues and problems in a real relationship. But my sister has talked about the stares and the judgment, about the difficulties of balancing the guys’ needs with her own. And now that she’s having twins, there will be even more to handle. But she also says she’s never been happier, and it’s worth it every day.”
No surprise. Raine was a survivor. Heavenly was, too…but in a much different way. She’d only ever fought her dad’s vicious disease, never the violence of the real world. Would she understand his failure? Would she ever look at him the same again if she knew how horribly he’d handled everything? How terribly he’d reacted afterward?
“She looks happy,” he said noncommittally. “I’m happy for them. After Liam’s divorce from that viper—”
“I didn’t meet his ex-wife, but she sounded like a real peach.”
“If you mean the rotten kind, yeah. But after Gwyneth, I didn’t think Liam would ever find this kind of bliss. Raine brought him back to Hammer, and they’re all where they belong now.”
Just like he felt as if he’d found his forever in Heavenly and Beck. But they wanted more from him. They wanted the truth.
Seth was fucking terrified of how they’d take it.
He and River filled the rest of the ride with small talk about sports and food. When he parked at the office, Raine’s brother dashed to his truck and drove off with a wave. Seth headed inside, talked to the client, worked on paperwork, returned a few phone calls…then realized he could go home.
But should he if he didn’t have his head screwed on straight?
Suddenly, his phone dinged with a message from Heavenly in their three-way chat. I’m keeping some dinner warm for you. Any chance you’re coming home soon?
Then Beck chimed in with, It’s time for dessert. Come get it while it’s hot. I am…
Swearing, Seth glanced at the time on his computer. It was already past ten p.m. By the time he locked up here, headed home, and showered—because he needed to—it would be nearly eleven. She and Beck would already be busy—if they weren’t now. He’d love to be there with them, sandwiching Heavenly between him and Beck, making sweet love to her.
Forgetting about the past.
But afterward, they would ask him questions he didn’t have good answers for. He would only put them off again. And he’d risk jacking up their relationship even more. Until he figured out how he could find the right way to say what they wanted to know, he was better off keeping his distance.
With an exhausted sigh, he plucked a pillow and one of his mom’s old quilts from a storage closet, turned out the lights, and tossed himself onto the long sofa against the wall. He’d barely slept in three fucking days, and he was beat.
As he settled into his makeshift bed, he gripped his phone and tapped out the safe answer.
Sorry, you two. Really wrapped up here. I’ll see you in the morning.
But when he closed his eyes, it didn’t take long before the nightmare he hadn’t had in years—of cold winter, hate, screams, and death—started haunting him.
