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We’ve been thinking on this day since we had to walk away from her and now that we have her in the middle of nowhere with nothing—and no one—between us, we’re not letting her go.
We all know Mercy is still hurting over the loss of her brother. Her mom has kept us in the loop and we’ve reached out to her when not out on missions. But circumstances always kept us from coming home and our girl has a bit of a travel bug in her given this is the first time she’s stepping on U.S. soil since her brother’s funeral. Otherwise, this little reunion would have happened a long time before now.
It took a lot of restraint from all of us, but we gave her space. We’ve been away long enough and it’s time to set a few things straight.
A short talk over a large bottle of tequila made all three of us realize our girl needs a little TLC so she can move on and find happiness again. From the haughty look in her eyes, she might need a spanking on that fine ass of hers to go along with the kisses we intend on lavishing her with once we get past the hard part.
Talking to us.
Jesting aside, we can only hope she’s ready for her future to include the three of us because we’re not leaving here until we have her fully claimed by three perverted kinky motherfuckers who want her like we’ve wanted no other woman.
Refusing her that night was the best and worst day of all our lives. We had to walk away, which killed each of us, but we also had the knowledge that one day maybe she would take all three of us. And that kept us alive out on the battlefield more than I care to think about, really. There were a lot of close calls.
The second her sweet ass disappears from view we all three drop our heavy loads, and I scrub a hand over the short strands of my hair.
I spend a few seconds regaining my thoughts, but Cain recovers before I do.
“Damn,” he hisses. “I wish I had more to say to that, but I think I lost some important brain cells.” He looks around the cabin and sees what I do. A whole bunch of nothing. A shell of a home compared to what it used to be.
“I thought I was prepared to see that pretty face of hers in person again, but you’re right, Cain. Damn.” Lincoln claps Cain on the shoulder. “Ya know, from the surprised look on her face and the blush across her ass, I think Mrs. Bray is having a little fun at our expense by not telling her we were coming.”
I chuckle, kicking the door closed behind me. “Wouldn’t be the first time she’s tried to play interference with her kids,” I offer, recalling a time Mercy’s mother tried to set up our friend with Lincoln’s much older, reckless, batshit crazy cousin. Given Linc likes to have control over his surroundings of the three of us, watching that play out made the last year of college interesting.
Watching the much younger version of Mercy get all worked up over nothing was even more so.
“Let’s get these to the kitchen and get settled. We can go from there.” I bend and grab the first bags of groceries and leave the boxes of batteries, pans and bug repellant to the guys. From what Mrs. Bray told us, her daughter probably didn’t come prepared, and from the looks of it, the older woman was right.
So we did.
Cain walks in behind me and slings a couple of boxes onto the counter, and Lincoln is on his heels with a few more bags. Meats, fruits, vegetables and anything else the man jammed in the cart is being pulled out of the bags and laid out.
“Wait. What? Settled. You’re not staying here.”
Mercy’s voice reaches us before she does. She moves quickly down the back stairs leading straight into the kitchen from the second floor. Great for late-night snacksandeavesdropping. She shuffles around an amused Linc and Cain to come face to face with me looking flushed and as pissed off as a kicked rattlesnake.
I turn to face her.
She’s covered her beautiful body with some sort of ugly sagging sweats the color of moss and an oversized T-shirt with boss babe written over her tits, but I don’t think it has the “I’m in control” effect she’s going for. More like cute and edible.
I lift my hand and tuck a stray curl of hair behind her ear where she prefers to keep it. “Yeah, as in putting out that blazing fire you have roaring in the middle of the summer, killing all the candles so we don’t all die of vanilla overload, figuring out who is sleeping where, making sure the food is secured, then making sure there are no leaks from the storm.”
The longer I talk the redder she becomes.
From the other side of the small kitchen island Linc tosses several packs of meats on the counter and says, “I’ve got the fire.” Linc points at Cain who is stowing away the pots and pans. “You?”
“Oh no.” I turn to see Mercy hold a hand up like a stop sign in front of Linc before Cain can answer. “Don’t you touch my fireormy candles!” She bolts across the kitchen and stands in front of the arched doorway, hands on her hips.
My lips jerk back into a smile at the challenge.
And I know what the smirk on Cain’s face means. “I’ll get the leaksandthe candles,” he says. “Wouldn’t want to burn the place down with us in it, right, Mercy baby?” he offers with a wink.
I stand back and cross my arms. Wrong move.
From the way her scowl deepens and those perfectly tweezed brows knit together at hearing Cain’s old nickname for her, I’d say if Cain isn’t careful, he might find himself sleeping on the front porch.
I watch as she glares at him all the while both men stalk forward, wrap their arms around her and dive in for a quick kiss before moving her to the side.
Kicked rattlesnake or not, I see her ire calm the second Linc swoops in and kisses those perfect lips and then passes her to Cain.
