Fill Her Up (Daly Way Series, Book Three) (9 page)

Tenderness filled him. He rubbed her back, contemplating a future of such intimacy. His chest grew tight as he kissed the top of her head. He always had to be so tough and manly. With her, he could reveal the softer side he kept hidden.

Patrick shook his head.

“I should be bloody jealous,” he laughed as he went for the blanket to cover her. Once she was bundled up with a pillow beneath her head instead of Sim, the two men headed downstairs to their friends. Their clothes were at the bottom of the steps. They dressed before joining their friends in the kitchen.

Regan had made some of the sludge he liked to call coffee. He and Conlin stood at the window that overlooked the backyard and the pool. Conlin had his arm around the shorter man’s waist.

Sim grinned. He hadn’t known this about the pair, but he was glad he and, especially, Patrick were witnesses to their friend’s affection. Perhaps it would help Patrick be more comfortable with what was happening between them.

Seasoned soldiers who’d been to Iraq and Afghanistan on multiple tours, they had to have heard the duo coming down from upstairs. They were making a statement, telling their closest friends a secret they’d never spoken. Pretending as if nothing noteworthy had occurred, Patrick and Sim poured coffee. When they turned, Conlin kissed Regan’s temple. All four sat at the table without speaking.

“How long?” Sim asked, knowing Patrick wouldn’t ask and that the guys were waiting for inquiry. It was obvious they wanted this out in the open. They’d been in the same unit for years. It was possible being a couple, albeit secretly, wasn’t new.

“Since right after Kobe,” Regan answered. They all paused, silently remembering their fallen friend. It had hit all of them hard. No matter how hardened they were supposed to be, Kobe was their buddy. They’d worked with him and ribbed him every day.

With one patrol and an encounter with an IED, he’d been gone. Just that morning, they’d been teasing him about his extra-long video call to his new wife. They’d been married less than five weeks.

“It just happened,” Conlin told them. “We were comforting each other then…well, you can guess.”

“I thought he was gonna flatten me,” his lover laughed.

“I did. You liked it.”

“Shit! TMI,” Patrick chuckled.

“We wanted you to know. We’re thinking of moving nearby when we get out.” Conlin squeezed Regan’s hand. “Neither of us are lifers. We’ve had enough of this war.”

“If we’re going to live together—totally out—we wanted you two to know…right up front.”

“Fair enough,” Patrick nodded. “We’re cool with it.” He grinned. “So what would you like to do today—besides sex that is?”

Everyone laughed, but disappointment settled in Sim’s belly. Obviously, Patrick wasn’t going to acknowledge what was going on between them. Sim wouldn’t out him, either.

He’d thought his friend was into what they’d been doing, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe his feelings would be for nothing and Patrick was merely curious.

Keeping a smile on his face, he reached for his coffee. “How about a picnic? Verity likes them, and we can borrow horses over at the Flying D ranch.”

Chapter Five

Verity didn’t know how long she’d been passed out, but she smelled fresh-brewed coffee as she wandered down the steps. Bright sunlight beat down through the living room’s large windows, intensifying the shyness that overcame her as she lingered at the landing.

All the men were sprawled on the oversized furniture in the sunken portion of the room. She swallowed, overwhelmed by the sheer size of them. They were huge…

And she’d had gritty sex with these four, and she didn’t even know names for two of them—well…she knew the names, just not who belonged to which.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Sim called. He jumped up and hurried toward her. Pulling her hand, he led her to sit between him and Patrick. Biting her lip, she couldn’t help the curious glances she shot the new men. One of them winked incorrigibly at her.

“And these are our friends, Regan and Conlin,” Sim told her as he laced his fingers through hers.

The newcomers nodded greeting at her. One had hair as black-brown as her guys and the other had light brown, spiky hair and intense, aqua-blue eyes.

Though they were on leave and were dressed in jeans, they wore drab olive T-shirts. Their dog tags hung between well-developed pecs.

Suddenly, she was even more thankful she’d been blindfolded the first time with them. She might have been terrified by the fours walls of muscle coming at her. Even now, she felt more than a little overwhelmed. Seeing the four of them all in one place, filling the space with bulging muscles and oozing testosterone, had every ion of her being pinging around, reaching for one then the other of the group.

She squeezed Sim’s hand, using him as an anchor as she acclimated to the sea of manhood.

 The man with the twinkling blue eyes grinned. She couldn’t tell, but she thought he might be slightly larger than the other guy.

“I’m Conlin,” he told her, breaking the silence that had fallen as they’d assessed one another. This was the one who’d commanded her to open her mouth. She felt heat rushing into her face at the carnal memory. His gaze darkened and she suspected he was remembering the moment. “I didn’t scare you, did I, sweetheart?”

“Maybe for a moment,” she admitted. Her shoulder lifted. “It was good.”

“That’s definitely what we like to hear,” said the other man. He had whiskey-brown eyes that picked up the slightest bit of green from his shirt. “I’m Regan, by the way, but you probably guessed that.”

“Yes.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you taste spectacular, ma’am.”

The other three men groaned. Conlin smacked his friend’s arm. “That’s just like you—all crass and polite in one sentence.”

“Well, thank you, I guess,” Verity laughed, feeling self conscious but glad for the light-heartedness around her. “I don’t think anyone’s actually even told me that before.”

Regan leveled a dark stare on Patrick and Sim. “Cretins.”

“Hey!” they protested.

“I don’t know. I think it applies,” Conlin cut in. “Last time I saw you, some girl was kicking your ass.”

“You can’t hold that against me. I was drunk,” Sim laughed. “I’d just met her and her boyfriend, and they both liked me. Kicking my ass was foreplay for her. I think she was some sort of Dominatrix or something. I don’t know for sure. I
did
know I had a one hundred percent chance of getting laid. Whether of not I enjoyed it was a fifty-fifty chance.”

“And who did you end up with?” Conlin asked.

“None of your fucking business,” Sim retorted.

Regan coughed. “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” he muttered behind his hand, and they all laughed.

“Maybe you can read about it in my next book,” Sim told him.

“He writes military thrillers,” Patrick told Verity. “Apparently, he saw far more covert action than the rest of us. ‘Course, these two are still in and can’t talk about it.”

“Well, we could,” Regan offered, “but then we’d have to kill you.”

“I’ll wait for the book.” She turned to Sim. “Under covers action, you say?”

“I didn’t say,” he said indignantly then smirked. “Sex sells, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“It’s never as interesting as books and movies try to make it,” Patrick added.

“What exactly are you implying?” Sim bristled. “Perhaps you need a demonstration.”

“So Patrick suggested a picnic,” Regan cut in.

“Cool,” she replied, glad for a change in subject. Sim and Patrick needed to work things out, but not publically. She looked down at the dress robe she’d worn down. “If someone will go get my suitcase from my car over at the garage, I’ll get ready.”

* * * *

The group took two vehicles to the Flying D. Patrick had called the ranch to arrange the rides as soon as she’d agreed to a picnic. They’d picked up a fried chicken meal and drinks from
Leena’s Diner
to bring with them.

Leaving the house, Verity saw her car up on the hoist and ire dodged through her. Damn, Patrick. There was nothing wrong with the Sentra, yet the tires were off and one of the garage employees stood beneath it, reaching up into the undercarriage.

She would have berated Patrick about it, but she’d chosen to ride with Conlin and Regan so Patrick and Sim could discuss what was going on between them. From what she could see of the car ahead of them, neither man was speaking. Pushing aside her worry, she asked Regan and Conlin about their tours and found they’d been stationed all over the world during the twelve years they’d been in the service.

“And you’re a couple?” she finally asked.

“Not out or anything,” Conlin replied. “Things aren’t that liberal yet.”

“Never will be,” Regan put in. “Being liberal might undermine discipline. They’re all about that. I suspect our superior knows, but he pretends not to. It helps that we’re very into women.”

“We’re very into you,” his partner added. “Can’t wait to be in you again.”

“Do you think we’ll find a secluded place to picnic?”

Verity squirmed on the backseat, the seam of her jeans seeming too tight against her clit. How the hell was she supposed to ride a horse? Hopefully, the steed wouldn’t be spooked by the extreme arousal still pounding through her.

“Maybe,” she said. She tucked her lip between her teeth a moment then bit the bullet and let them know the attraction wasn’t one-sided. “I hope so. I remember some places from when I was younger. My best friend, Briar, used to live on the Flying D.”

“Where does she live now?”

“Chicago, last I heard. We kinda lost touch when I left here before—Oh! Up there,” she interrupted herself. “See that turnoff the guys are taking? There’s the road leading into Flying D.”

It was heavily wooded here and easy to miss. Once they got further in, there would be large expanses of pastureland, but before that, they appeared to be jaunting down the road to Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma’s in the middle of nowhere. And she had four big, bad wolves along with her—two of them mighty cranky.

The Flying D was the largest of the ranches in these parts. Most of the spreads specialized in cattle, but the Flying D was renowned for breeding some of the best horse stock in the country.

Soon, the main house came into view. Robert Daly came out immediately, jogging down the steps to meet them—her, it seemed. He made a beeline for her and pulled her into a tight hug. If he wasn’t so much of a brother to her, she might have been attracted to him. A descendant of the founder of Daly, he was just a little older than she was. She, Robert and Briar had essentially grown up together—until Briar’s mom, the housekeeper at Flying D had uprooted her daughter and moved her from the state. Verity hadn’t been around, but she guessed it had torn up the man who held her. He’d always been sweet on Briar.

“Hey squirt,” he greeted her, tussling her hair. His own black hair now had silver in it despite his being close to her age. “’Bout time you came home. Must be the month for prodigals to return to the fold.”

“What do you mean?”

“Briar’s coming home next week.”

Joy leapt through her—until she remembered she probably wouldn’t be here next week. “I hope I get to see her.”

“I’m certain she’ll make sure of it.”

Casually, Patrick pulled her to his side, perhaps silently asserting a claim. She almost rolled her eyes. There was no claim. She’d be leaving soon.

“Are the horses ready?” he asked after greeting her old friend and introduced him to Conlin and Regan. Robert already knew Sim since he rented workspace from him.

“Ready and waiting,” Robert told them with a grin. “The crew’s out fixing jack-fences in the south acreage.” He pointed to the trees and slopes to the west. “If you ride that way, you should have privacy. I put loaded rifles in the saddles. You shouldn’t run into anything but we do have coyotes and other wild critters, so keep a weapon near you. I’ll help you load your things.”

“Glad he didn’t say gun,” Regan murmured near her ear. “I’d be distraught if I lost that. But I would like to sheath it soon.”

She gave him an amused half-laugh. “You’re bad.”

“And you’re very, very good. Con and I never thought we’d be so lucky.”

His words warmed her as they prepped the horses. She knew what awaited when they got to the picnic site.

A half hour later, they were on their way. As if protecting her from some big, bad monster, two of the guys rode in front of her and two behind. That was fine with her. It gave her time to think—though watching Sim and Patrick’s less than good horsemanship made her happy. It was nice to know they weren’t skilled at everything. They hadn’t improved since the three of them had dated ten years ago.

To her surprise, Conlin rode up beside her and plucked her from the horse she’d been riding. Regan moved forward to claim the reins of her horse. She and Con took up the rear, falling back a little as he slowed the horse to a sedate walk.