“You share this house, the two of you?”
Brandon could feel the tension Rachel had gathered around her. He opened the front door and gestured for her to precede them inside.
“We do,” he said. “Through the week, Trace gets the place to himself, because, for the most part, my commuting back and forth every day isn’t ideal. But yes, we share the place.”
“After only a few years of billeting while I was in college, and then sharing an apartment with a couple of real slobs, I knew that when I came home for good, I wanted to lease a house,” Trace said.
“That goes double for me, because, since enlisting, I’ve lived in either barracks or small units on base.”
“I’ve been spoiled,” Rachel said. She stepped in and looked around. When she turned to face them, her smile looked a little more relaxed. “I went from living in my parents’ house to living in Buck’s. I’ve never had an apartment. Grandma Kate had friends in Memphis who needed a house sitter just as Libby was being admitted to St. Jude’s for her treatments. Even here, Jake, right off the bat, steered me toward a house.” She shrugged. “The lease was unbelievably affordable, so I didn’t hesitate.”
Brandon looked over at Trace. His friend’s brow was furrowed, and Brandon knew exactly what Rachel had said to cause that. Buck’s house? Not her house? Guy must have been an asshole right from the get-go. “At first we thought the lease we were being offered was some sort of a favor—because I’m kind of like family,” he said. “But we soon found out from those living in town who aren’t family that the low leases are just the way it is here.”
“You’re not kind of like family.” Rachel stepped up to him. She looked from him to Trace. The caring he saw on her face went straight to his heart—and would have made him hard, but he resisted that with every bit of will he possessed.
She kept her gaze on his and said, “You are family. Both of you are. That’s something the people of Lusty decided when you first arrived, I’d bet. I understand this, because they decided the same thing about Libby and me, too.”
“You’re amazing, do you know that?”
Rachel’s blush was as predictable as was the way she was shaking her head “no.”
“There’s nothing amazing about—”
She stopped talking the instant Brandon placed his finger over her lips. “There is, and it’s even more so because you really have no idea. Don’t argue this point, please.” He removed his finger then swooped in and laid his lips on hers. He gave her a very light kiss, and because he wanted to drink her down, he lifted his head.
Just that nearly platonic touch was enough to have his cock begin to harden again. “Let’s go sit at the kitchen table. Trace made some sweet tea earlier. Before we move forward, we need to sit and talk.”
“The talking you didn’t want to happen at the restaurant?” The expression on her face told him something significant about her character. He wanted a woman who would be a submissive in the bedroom, yes, and he knew without a doubt that Rachel was one. He didn’t want a doormat. Her question, but, more, her facial expression just then, told him that she was most definitely not the latter.
“For your privacy, baby. People are going to know soon enough that we’re together, the three of us, because there is no way we’re going to hide that we’re developing a relationship. We refuse to sneak around. But they don’t need to know the details of what’s private between us.”
He reached for her hand and then brought it to his lips. He rubbed his kiss into her flesh, but he kept his gaze on hers. He saw the easing, reflected by her expression and the way her shoulders lost some of their tension.
“Come and sit, Rachel.” Trace leaned in and gave her a soft kiss.
“All right. I have the sense I should apologize.”
“No.” Brandon led her into the kitchen then seated her. He chose the chair on her left. Trace got out the tea, glasses, and the inevitable plate of Aunt Anna’s pecan cookies. His brother was addicted to those things.
Then Trace was there, on Rachel’s right. He and his best friend—his brother—angled their chairs so they were facing her.
“No?”
“Absolutely no. We haven’t even really begun yet, and you barely know us. You’re being cautious, and a little suspicious, and that’s as it should be. This…” He moved his hand in a way so that she’d know he meant the three of them. “This relationship isn’t just us. Libby is a part of what we’ll be building here.”
She blushed, and the look she’d just donned could only be called rueful. “That was my main stumbling block. Libby is my family, and she’s going to be affected by our actions, whatever they may be.”
“You said ‘was,’” Trace said.
“Does that mean you’ve decided to begin this journey with us?”
She tilted her head to the side and looked from him to Trace. But then she met his gaze. “I think so. It’s a yes, but I have to know, going forward, what exactly you have in mind.”
“What do you know about the Dominant/submissive dynamic?”
He was really hoping that she didn’t say that she’d read the trilogy of books that had been popular a few years back, that had also been made into movies.
The pink in her cheeks revealed her discomfort. She licked her lips and nodded. “Not long after I came to Lusty, I met a couple of women. I’d never made friends easily, but with these two—Iris Kendall and Mercy Carter-Quest—we seemed to have such a connection, right from the first moment. Iris had been a veterinary assistant but is now taking courses to become a full-fledged vet, a career in a practice that she’ll share with her husband, Donny. Her other husband is a teacher. Mercy’s a journalist and is also
