13
SARAH
I leaned against the door of the bedroom Wilder had claimed—there was no way I was going into King’s room until I had the sheets burned—took a deep breath and tried to will the tears away. It didn’t work. My feelings bubbling to the surface were too much and I couldn’t help but cry. My mother. My mother!
Oh. My. God. I looked up at the ceiling, put my fingers over my eyes. Pressed and physically tried to hold the tears in.
I wasn’t sure if I should be mortified or angry. Mortified that my mother had tried to seduce King. Angry for well…the exact same thing. She had the gall to come all the way to Montana and hop in King’s bed, and his shirt. And she’d said she’d done it before.
I hadn’t seen a car parked in the driveway, so Karl must have dropped her off. That meant one thing: It hadn’t been spontaneous. They’d planned this.
Had King turned her away or had the seduction just started when I’d arrived? Of course, he had. She hadn’t gotten him to marry her and the disgust on his face now was indication enough. King wasn’t a cheater. I knew it in my bones. Glancing down at the rings on my finger, I blinked against the tears, knowing they meant something. Not the tears, but the rings. King and Wilder both had pledged themselves to me even knowing my family.
But what did King think of me after what my mother had said? While she’d talked about me ‘bagging’ Kingston Barlow on our last phone call, it had been just that, talk. But she’d spun the truth into something nasty, making our marriage into something fake. Something exactly like every one of my mother’s marriages.
Like mother, like daughter. I pushed off the door and went to the window, stared at the snowy field, the steel-colored sky.
I whimpered, realizing King now thought I’d gone after him because of his money, because of his land, doing Mommy’s bidding. If she couldn’t get him, then I would. And did. I was just like her, bagging a millionaire. And she’d been pleased! For the first time in my entire life, she sounded proud of me. And what was absolutely ridiculous was that she’d done it while standing in his house in just his shirt. Like we’d been a team who had ambushed him. I’d gotten him over the weekend, but she hadn’t known that, so her attack had come today.
God, she didn’t care which of us got in his bed as long as one of us did.
I wanted to vomit.
I didn’t want her praise or approval, I wanted King’s. What was I going to do? King surely hated me. Hated both Gandry women. Now he was stuck with me. I rubbed the rings with my thumb.
I had to try to tell him the truth, to make him believe I wanted him. Not his land. Not the Barlow name. I wanted King.
How could I do that? How could I get him to listen after what my mother had just shared downstairs? I had to bare all to him and get him to forgive me, to get him to believe.
It came to me with a clarity that made my heart skip a beat. There was only one way. I just had to hope it would work. I’d bare my soul to him and hope he took it, kept it. Treasured it.
WILDER
“What the fuck, man?” I asked, shutting the front door as Archer’s SUV headed toward town with Sarah’s mother in the back seat.
Snow began to fall, the storm that had been predicted to bring over a foot overnight had begun. I didn’t usually give a shit about the weather, especially in January, but the snow meant Sarah’s mother wouldn’t be coming back, especially if King didn’t plow his drive. It also meant that Sarah herself wasn’t going anywhere. While her car was good in the snow, it wasn’t that good.
King ran his hand over the back of his neck, glanced up the stairs as if he could see Sarah. “I’m going to have to get a new bed.”
He walked to the great room, checked the lock on the door that went out to the patio, flipped it. “It’s exactly what it looked like, except I didn’t touch her.”
“Of course, you didn’t. You’d need your fucking shots if you did.”
He glanced at me, grinned, but it fell quickly away. Then he went down the hall and to the door off the laundry room, checked the lock.
“You saw Sarah. She probably thinks I slept with her years ago, that I might have again today if she hadn’t shown up.”
“She was remarkably calm for a woman scorned,” I commented, following him back to the front door, to the stairs.
We’d made a circle of the first floor; everything was locked up tight. We both glanced up the steps.
“I need to make this right, to dig myself out of this shit.”
“She’ll believe you.”
Out of anyone, Sarah knew how fucked up her mother was. Knew she’d try anything to get what she wanted, even fucking a guy half her age. But this was bad. If it were reversed and I were the guy her mother was after, if Sarah discovered the woman in just my shirt, I’d be worried, too. Even though the idea I’d fuck her was preposterous, I’d still panic.
King gave me a look that said he doubted my words.
“She’s our wife,” I said, grabbing his shoulder and making him look at me. I pointed up the stairs. Sarah was up there. I wasn’t sure if she were mad, sad, happy, angry. But she was here. She was worth the fight. “She loves us. Married us. She didn’t run. Now let’s go fix this.”
King took a deep breath, let it out, but he still looked pissed as hell and headed up the steps. He turned, glanced down at me. “Fine, but be prepared to duck. I deserve anything she throws my way.”
KING
I stepped into my bedroom, prepared for an angry wife. Instead, it was empty, the master bathroom as well. Only the lingering, cloying scent of Beatrice’s perfume remained.
I turned on my heel, found Wilder standing in the hallway. I shrugged, wondering where she might be. She hadn’t slipped out; I’d ensured all the first-floor doors were now locked…and would stay that way. The house had four bedrooms. She was in one of them.
Wilder went down the hall, opened the door to the room he’d been sleeping in. He’d claimed it with things from his house in town, made it his. Sarah would sleep with both of us, taking turns.
If she didn’t want to divorce me after four days.
He didn’t go in, just stood there, staring. I moved to his side, peeked over his shoulder.
“Holy shit,” I murmured.
There was Sarah, on her knees, hands on her thighs, head bowed. Naked.
The perfect submissive. Gorgeous. Her skin looked milky white in the wintery light from the window. I could see the soft turn of her full breasts and a hint of her pussy, although it was in shadow.
My heart stuttered, stopped. When she lifted her head and looked at us, her face blotchy from crying, it kicked back in.
I’d made her cry.
“Princess,” I groaned, pushing Wilder out of the way and dropping to my knees before her. “Oh, baby.”
“I didn’t marry you for your money, for your ranch like my mother said. I didn’t.” Her last words were almost a plea, her eyes almost desperate.
I frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She glanced away, looked down at the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, Wilder’s legs appeared. All I saw were his jeans and thick socks; I didn’t dare look away from Sarah.
“My mother was telling the truth. We’d talked about me marrying you, getting my hands on your ranch. Well, she talked and I listened.”
“When was this?” I asked.
“Over the weekend. After the night at Hawk’s Landing.”
“You didn’t tell her we were engaged then, that you were going to marry me?”
She shook her head, her dark hair sliding over her bare shoulder. “I don’t tell my mother anything, especially not something like that. She’d think I was doing it for her kind of reasons.”
“But you didn’t,” Wilder said, squatting down, resting his elbows on his thighs.
“No.”
“Why did you marry me, princess?” I asked, so fucking hopeful for the answer.
“Because I love you. I love both of you. I’ve loved you for forever.”
The vise around my heart finally loosened. “That’s right. And because you know we love you, too. That you belong to us. You’re ours in every way.”
I reached out, stroked her cheek. She tilted her head into the touch. I saw the way she relaxed, that her worry had diminished. I glanced at the necklace I’d put on her. Thought about what it meant.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, not you,” I told her.
She frowned. “Why? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Princess, your mother all but said we’d fucked.”
She closed her eyes, shook her head. “But you didn’t.”
“Hell, no.” The idea repulsed me. That crazy, money-grubbing woman was the last person I’d sleep with. “How the hell can you believe me?”
“For one, you wouldn’t have done…what we did in the library earlier if you were headed to meet my mother.”
Wilder looked at me. “What did you do to her in the library?”
Sarah blushed, but I wasn’t letting her off the hook. “Tell Wilder what we did.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked to Wilder. “He…he fucked me over my desk.”
“Where exactly did I fuck you?”
She bit her lip.
“Not your pussy?”
She shook her head.
“Your mouth?”
Another head shake. I waited.
“You fucked my ass.”
Wilder groaned.
“I heard Wilder gave you permission to remove the plug. Is my cum still seeping out?” The idea of marking her so thoroughly had pre-cum spurt from my dick.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good girl,” I told her. If she were going to be with two men, she had to be able to share and share thoroughly, not just her body, but her words, too.
“Why else do you believe I wouldn’t touch your mother?”
She cocked her head to the side. “For the same reason you believed me. My mother doesn’t lie, but she spins the truth to her liking. I believe she was in your bed, not only now but in the past.”
I nodded once, admitted what I had hoped to never tell her. While the woman was a bitch, she was still Sarah’s mother. I had a feeling she loved the idea of a mother, but didn’t like the one she had.
“Yes. A while ago when she was between husbands. She had her sights set on me. I made it clear then that I wasn’t interested.”
“She’s out of money. That’s why she’s back. Why she’s clearly desperate.”
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound offended. “I’m not that desperate of a catch.”
That made her smile, the corner of her full lips tipping up, her eyes brightening.
“There’s my princess,” I added, my voice soft. I reached out, slid my finger along the necklace, knowing she was mine in all things.
She launched herself at me, her arms flying around my neck, her head resting on my chest. I almost fell backward from the impact. Wrapping my arms about her, I held her as tight as I could yet allow her to breathe. I felt the press of her breasts, the softness of her legs, the heat from her pussy, even through my jeans. My lips went to her temple and I kissed her, breathed in her sweet scent, savored the feel of her in my hold.
“Your mother’s gone off with Archer,” Wilder said, his hand caressing her back. “He’ll make sure she’s gone and won’t bother us again.”
“That’s right,” I added. “I’m done talking about your mother. What I want to know is why you were waiting for us, kneeling and naked.”
She tried to pull back and I loosened my hold so she could do so, but only enough so she could look at us both.
“Because I wanted you to know I give myself to you. Wholly. Completely. I don’t want to think about anything but your touch.”
Wilder groaned. My dick pulsed against my jeans.
I took her hand and lifted it to my lips. “Your finger with our rings is all we need, princess.” I kissed them, felt the metal warm from her skin against my lips.
Her dark eyes flared. I saw love there. Need. I saw everything.
My whole world.