Misplaced Hands: 4 (Foreign Affairs) (18 page)

“Breathe, darl’,” Keith murmured. “Breathe.”

She drew in a breath, let it out and threw back her head as Marc penetrated her virgin ass.

There was a burning sting as his girth pushed her opening wide, a pain so hot she wanted to scream. She froze and then moaned as Marc slowly buried his cock in her passage.

Unfathomable pleasure took her. She cried out again, and again when Keith began to move inside her as well.

She balanced on the precipice, their moans echoing around her, their bodies possessing her, filling her. They moved together, and she moved with them, taking them both as deep as she could, rolling her hips, squeezing their pumping lengths with her most intimate muscles.

They made love to her and when she came, her screams loud and unrestrained, they came too. Her name raw groans on their lips, their rhythm lost as they both told her they loved her, they loved her, oh fuck, how they loved her.

And when it was all done, when their release was spent and their cocks withdrawn from her body, they took her in their arms, held her close between them and told her they loved her again.

If Keith had his way, the weekend never would have ended. It was the best of his life. He and Marc had given Harper horse-riding lessons on Saturday, a hilarious endeavor they all agreed was a failure. There wasn’t an ounce of skill in Harper’s body. No matter what horse they put her on, Harper froze and then panicked and then froze again. After two hours, they all gave up, happy to admit defeat.

“Can you ride a motorbike?” Keith had asked, returning his hat to his head after she’d knock it off tumbling from Whippet’s saddle into his arms.

“You mean a motorcycle?” She’d tentatively patted his horse’s rump as she leaned into the protection of his embrace. “Like a Yamaha?”

Marc had retrieved one of the dirt bikes from the equipment shed and, in five minutes, Harper was proving what she couldn’t do on a horse, she could do on a motorbike.

“Well,” Marc watched her race around the paddock traditionally used to teach new jackaroos how to ride a horse, “guess she can always round up cattle on a bike.”

They’d spent the night making love by the billabong, taking turns icing her saddle-sore butt before kissing every inch of her body. They’d swum naked under the stars, fucked in the water, dozed on blankets laid out on the grass, tried to get her to eat Vegemite, gave up after everyone got the hiccups laughing too much and went back to making love again.

Sunday was just as wonderful. They’d taken her into Cobar for lunch at the pub, making the most of the long trip in and back by stopping often, pointing out various things along the way, filling her in on the history of the land, telling her some of the Aboriginal Dreamtime stories, making love to her over and over.

By the time Sunday night came, Keith knew there was no coming back from this.

There was no denying how they all felt about each other. Nor could they deny the reality of geography. Harper was an American teacher, and he and Marc were two Australian stockmen. Hell, neither of them even owned a home.

Come next Sunday, when Harper flew back to Chicago, he and Marc would return to the only life they’d ever known—working on Farpoint Creek Cattle Station.

For the first time ever, Keith felt empty about that.

And for the first time ever, he considered the unthinkable. Life
off
Farpoint.

“Oi, Blue.”

He jerked his head up from the open paper spread out before him.

Marc tossed a thermos at him, a glower on his face. “You left this out on the Blue Gulley Ridge tract.”

Snatching his thermos from the air, Keith scowled. They’d spent the afternoon moving a herd of new Angus heifers from the sorting pens to a holding paddock, a relatively easy job made hard because Keith’s heart hadn’t been in it. At all. Which had become fairly evident when more than one of the frisky young animals managed to slip past him during the muster. If it wasn’t for Legs and Jett, it was likely Keith would still be hunting for one in Blue Gulley.

Crossing to the table under a grove of gum trees the hands used when taking a break at the main homestead, Marc dropped onto the seat opposite Keith. “Care to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Keith returned his attention to the paper.

“That good, ’eh? Y’know, if you’re going to carry on like a tool, sulking about Harper going home, the next six days are going to be shit.”

Keith lifted his head and glared. “I’m not sulking.”

Marc’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? ’Cause it fucking looks like it.”

Biting back a growl, Keith spun the paper around to face Marc.

Puzzled confusion flittered across Marc’s face. He frowned at the paper, scanning the print on the two pages open to him.

And then snapped his stare back to Keith’s face. “Are you kidding?”

Keith scowled again. “Tell me what other option there is?”

Marc gaped at him, dropped his stare to the paper and then returned it to Keith. “Position Vacant ads? In the fucking city?”

A tight sigh scraped past Keith’s lips. “Sydney, Newcastle. Hell, I’ll even settle on Tamworth. I checked on the Department of Education’s website this morning. Harper’s American teaching qualifications mean she can teach in New South Wales after completing one year of a bachelor of arts in education. I figure I’ll earn a living while she studies.”

“And me?” Marc’s expression was unreadable. “Where do I fit into this grand plan of yours?”

Keith snorted. “You’re the house husband, dickhead. You know I can’t cook to save myself.”

Marc didn’t rise to the jest. He narrowed his eyes. “You talk to Harper about this? And when did you go to the bloody Department of Education’s website? You were still asleep when I got up this morning. Both you and Harper.”

“I was up at four. And no, I haven’t. I’m just…” Keith’s voice faded away. He was what? He didn’t know. All he knew was he didn’t want to lose what he and Marc and Harper had. He didn’t know if a happy ever after was possible with the three of them, but he wanted to give it a try. And the only way to do that was to leave Farpoint.

Which he didn’t want to do at all.

On the other side of the table, Marc sighed. Reaching up, he removed his hat, threw it on the table and raked his fingers through his hair. “Bloody hell, Blue. This is…”

It was Marc’s turn to fade off.

Keith chuckled, a dry, hollow laugh. “Insane? Insane is not seeing if what we have with Harper can work.”

Marc let out another sigh. “True. So, when are you going to tell her what you’re thinking? And what are you going to do if she doesn’t agree to it?”

Keith was saved from thinking about the answer by the arrival of Legs. The young jackaroo ran up to the table, his hat flopping about his head, his face bright red from his first real day on the job. “Thomo, Blue, the boss wants you both up at the main house.”

“Which boss?” Marc asked.

“Mr. Sullivan.”

Keith frowned. “Did he say why?”

The teenager shook his head.

Keith’s gut clenched. He returned his attention to Marc, picking up his friend’s hat and passing it to him. “C’mon, mate. Let’s go.”

The walk there was silent. Keith knew Marc was digesting the situation with Harper. Hell,
he
was digesting it. He knew moving to the big smoke wasn’t a perfect solution, but there wasn’t one, save staying here on Farpoint. And as soon as Amy returned next week, Harper’s teaching position was gone.

Which brought him back to moving away from Farpoint.

Which bloody well tore his heart out.

“Whose stupid idea was it to fall in love with a bloody American?” he muttered.

“What?” Marc frowned at him.

“Heads-up, Blue,” a man shouted.

Keith turned toward Hunter, watching their boss stride toward them from the homestead. “What’s up, boss?”

Hunter pointed over Keith’s shoulder. “We’ve got a visitor.”

Keith twisted about, watching the Farpoint communal ute slow to a halt a few meters behind him. “Who’s—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. The passenger door flung open and out stepped Amy.

“Holy shit,” Marc whispered.

There was a loud yap and Jett shot past them, bounding toward Amy, who was bounding toward
them
, her smile so wide, for a second Keith didn’t know what to do.

His friend was home.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Holy shit,” Marc said. “It’s
Wesson
.”

The sound of Amy’s name kicked him into gear. He met her halfway, scooping her up in a hug. “What the hell are you doing home already?”

“Spill.” Marc nudged her with his shoulder. “We thought you’d need to be kicked out of Chicago, not home early.”

Amy grinned at them. A typical Amy smile, cheeky and naughty. Except it didn’t reach her eyes. Keith frowned.

Then he heard Harper call Amy’s name behind them.

Amy turned, her stare locking on her best friend. And suddenly she was stumbling forward, collapsing into Harper’s arms, crying.

No, not crying,
sobbing
. Heart-wrenching sobs that stunned everyone.

“What the hell?” Marc stared at the two women.

Keith shook his head. “No bloody idea, mate.”

They crossed to where Harper was holding Amy, the American murmuring something to the Farpoint teacher Keith couldn’t hear.

Amy laughed, her tears glistening on her cheeks. “He didn’t do anything.”

Confusion pulled at Harper’s eyebrows. “Then why are you crying?”

“Because I fell in love with the stupid man,” Amy burst out, fresh tears spilling down her face again. “And now he’s back at work and I’m here and…God, I’m such an idiot.”

Keith’s gut knotted. He shot Marc a sideways glance. Amy had fallen in love with an American? Christ, what was it with Aussies falling for Yanks?

“You fell in love? With my
brother
?” Harper’s stunned question yanked Keith’s attention back to the two women.

Harper’s shoulders drooped, her forehead brushing Amy’s. She closed her eyes, her lips moving with words Keith couldn’t hear.

Whatever she said, Amy disagreed. She shook her head, straightening in Harper’s arms, uttering words as quiet as Harper’s.

“What the hell is going on?” Marc muttered. “I don’t know who to hug.”

“Amy! You’re home!”

Annie’s arrival prevented Keith from thumping his fist into Marc’s shoulder.

“We weren’t expecting you until next weekend.” Annie beamed at her.

Amy shrugged, smiling back. Keith wasn’t convinced, and by the slight frown creasing Annie’s forehead, neither was she. “I got a little homesick.”

“Hazel will be thrilled to see you,” Annie said, glancing at Harper, Keith and then Marc. “She’s mentioned several times how much she’s missed your spirit around this place.”

“Andrew is in
love
with you?” Harper burst out, her stare locked on Amy.

Amy’s cheeks, still wet with tears, turned a faint pink. “I don’t know that for sure. He never said he did. I just—”

“Of course he fell in love with you.” Marc’s interjection was indignant. “I figure an American boy doesn’t stand a fighting chance against our Amy.”

Amy laughed, but once again, Keith noticed the joy never reached her eyes. He knew Amy. Hell, he’d grown up with her. He knew when she was happy and right now, she wasn’t. Not at all.

Harper didn’t seem convinced either. “But Andrew never…”

“He never falls in love,” Amy finished, her sheepish expression making Keith want to hug her. And beat the crap out of Harper’s brother for hurting her. Damn it, when had he become such a violent Neanderthal? “Yeah. I know. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part, but I’m okay with that. It’s nice to believe my feelings were returned and it’s not like it’s going to hurt anyone for me to hold on to that idea. After all,” her voice cracked slightly, “I’m most likely never going to see him again.”

Harper flicked a quick look at Keith and Marc, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip before she offered Amy a smile. For Keith, it was a smile of broken hopes. He saw it in Harper’s eyes. He felt it in his heart. Amy was back and Harper’s time as Farpoint Creek’s resident teacher was up. The fantasy was over and reality had come crashing down upon them.

“I hope you’re right, Amy,” Harper said, the pain in her voice shearing into Keith’s chest. “I’ve always worried about my brother’s inability to let any woman into his heart. I should have known if anyone could do it, it would be you.”

She reached forward and gave Amy another hug, her stare finding Keith’s over Amy’s shoulder.

Keith swallowed, torn. He was happy Amy was home, he’d missed her, but she’d come home distraught and he didn’t like that. Just as much as he didn’t like the fact Harper was going soon.

Christ, what a fucking mess.

“Come on into the house,” Annie suddenly said, reaching for Amy’s hand. “You’re going to have to tell Hazel and me all about this man. Keith, I suspect you and Marc can keep Harper entertained for a little while?”