Hell, half the men in town had nicknamed Ethan pretty boy which infuriated him, even though he would never admit it to them. Only she, Brett, and Sam had a clue how much it bothered him that no one took him seriously. They all saw him as an attractive man with no depth and no brains.
I know how that feels.
“I guess you’re right,” she conceded with a half-smile. “I do kind of like you.”
“But she likes me more,” Sam interjected as he returned from the kitchen, holding two milkshakes in his big hands. He smiled crookedly, pulling her attention to his handsome face. This man was a lot like Ethan in the sex appeal department. However, no one gave him hell for it like they did Ethan.
Sam was taller than Ethan, standing at over six feet. He was a bit more muscular, too. But the thing that always drew people’s eyes was his shaggy hair. The brown-colored, wavy strands fell over his forehead and often covered his gorgeous blue eyes. With his outgoing personality, his boyish good looks fit him flawlessly.
Crossing the room, Sam handed her a huge milkshake before taking a seat in the accent chair opposite of Brett’s.
The cold glass he handed her caught her off guard, and she lost her grip for just a second before she got it back under control. Turning the cup up, she gulped down way too much of the thick, chilled drink.
Brain freeze.
“You’re going to get brain freeze,” Brett told her, obviously thinking the same thing she had. “Slow down, sweetheart.”
The overly-protective hunk of a man always did this. He took care of her like an older brother with a toddler for a sister. It was amusing to her—and anyone else—that the badass man was a big ole teddy bear when it came to those he loved. And he never hid the fact that he loved her and the other two men in the room.
Tipping her drink back down, she sat the glass on the side table and saluted him. “Yes sir.”
“Don’t be a smart ass,” Brett clipped out.
“Why not?” she asked. “It
is
what people expect of me.”
“Maybe,” Brett agreed, “but most people don’t know you the way we do because you won’t let them.”
“Jaycee and Shannon know me,” she argued, her defensive answer sounding half-assed at best. Her best friends did know her. Of course, they did. They just didn’t know
everything
.
Other than Landon and her close friend, Rafaello Speranza, she was careful to only let people see what they wanted to see. It was much easier that way. She didn’t have to worry about what anyone thought or said since they didn’t know the real her. If they didn’t know who she was deep inside, it wouldn’t hurt so much when they rejected her. And, inevitably, they would reject her. She had no illusions about that.
But Landon didn’t count in the judgmental masses because he was different. He had this ability to see the real her. Through every façade, through every artifice, he knew who she was. No matter what she did or said, he slipped beneath her defenses and found the woman in her soul. He might not know the lurid details of her abusive past or her double-life, but he knew her down to the very core.
Rafe, on the other hand, knew every dirty, little secret—past and present—she had. Under normal circumstance, he wouldn’t have had a snowball’s chance in Hell of pilfering secrets out of her, but his own horrendous past had forged an instantaneous connection between them. Opening up to each other, they’d both shared a side of themselves that no one else saw, which had bonded them together in a most unusual way.
Sam sent her a skeptical look. Cocking his head to the side, he said, “Babe, Jaycee and Shannon know most of you. I know that you want to tell them everything, but you are too scared to do it. One day you are going to have to put it all on the line and tell them. They’ll love you all the more for it. Surely, you can see that.”
Unfortunately, it wasn’t an issue of fear—not anymore. She wasn’t too scared to tell them. Honestly, she wished she were. It would be so much easier that way. However, the years of keeping secrets and hiding herself were too much for her, just as they would be for Jaycee and Shannon. She just couldn’t stand to tell them. She couldn’t bear the thought of hurting them that way. God knew that she would rather eat a nasty old beet than to be the person who caused them to shed a single tear. And that was saying something, considering how much she hated beets.
Silently, she shook her head.
“Those two are not idiots, Katie-Anne,” Brett informed her. “They know something is up. They have to.”
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed. “Everyone knows something isn’t right, especially your men, your friends, and your family. They are just too nice to push you for it.”
My men. My husbands
.
No, they’re not my husbands. The annulment papers had voided that reality.
Unexpected tears filled her eyes, and she blinked several times to dislodge them as best she could before Brett, Ethan, or Sam saw them. “They are not my men,” she snapped as soon as she’d hidden the tears in her eyes. “Not now, not ever.”
“You are so full of shit,” Brett replied. “They are yours. Inside your generous, loving heart, they have always been yours. And they will always be yours.”
Closing her eyes, she shook her head, jerking it from side to side. “No.”
“Yes,” Ethan said as he cuddled her close to him, the warmth of his side warming her suddenly cold body. “If you told them the truth, they would be yours. The only thing keeping you apart is Shane and his bonehead ideas about you. If he knew the real woman living and breathing inside of you—the woman we know and love—he would run you down a wedding aisle and make you his in a heartbeat.”
I wouldn’t be so sure about that.
Shane had rejected her—heart, body, and soul. What made them think he would stick around if he knew her? He hadn’t even stuck around the morning after they’d married and made love for the first time.
No, we didn’t make love. We fucked, and that was that.
Now she was alone, and she had to get over it. Just like she had to get over him and Landon.
Like that is going to happen.
“No, Ethan. He wouldn’t,” she said, staring into his deep eyes. “Trust me, I know. He wouldn’t love me, and he wouldn’t want me. I don’t think he would even trust me. It’s better this way.”
Sam slammed his glass cup down on the table, amazingly without shattering it. The noise of glass colliding with glass was loud, but they all ignored it. The emotions swirling around them like a vortex were too much to focus on anything else. “Damn it, Katie-Anne. You need to tell them. They deserve to know the truth. Everyone does. I’m sick of watching you all suffer because of the lies and the secrets.”
“No one is suffering,” she snapped back.
Are they? Am I really hurting the people I love most? Really?
“Yes, they are,” Sam informed her, unintentionally answering her silent questions. “The men love you. They fucking love you—despite everything. You believe that they won’t care if they know the”—he paused to make a rude air quote gesture—“
real
you. Well, you know what? Shane and Landon care for the bitchy persona you flash around. What the hell makes you think they won’t love who you really are? Tell me. I want to know because I am sick and fucking tired of hiding all this garbage for you when it’s useless and pointless.”
“I–I–I don’t know.” The words slipped from her lips without conscious thought. And she realized that her words were the brutal truth. She didn’t know. She’d spent so long living in her fantasy world, cocooned in all the lies, that she’d lost sight of her own reality. The truth and untruths had twisted and mangled until she didn’t know who or what was real.
She had always claimed that it was for her own protection. It was self-preservation. But that wasn’t it. She was just a pussy.
Sam was right. Even though her friends and family didn’t know everything about her, the most important people in her life had loved her anyway. They’d supported her and taken care of her, even when they hadn’t approved of the things she said or did. They’d loved her inner bitch anyway.
God, I’ve gotten myself in way over my head. And I don’t know how to get out without drowning.
“Personally, I think it’s easier for you to not say anything,” Brett said with a careless shrug. Staring off into space, he frowned. “Why would you? I mean after all these years, there isn’t a point. Is there? If you tell them, you’ll lose them anyway. Won’t you? They are too vain, shallow, and cold to give you a chance to explain yourself and apologize. All those bitches and bastards would reject you and hate you and talk about you behind your back. Hell, they’d probably spit on you and dance on your grave when you die one day.”
Katie-Anne wanted to kick Brett in the balls. His reverse psychology bullshit just pissed her the hell off. Scowling at him, she snapped, “I know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it, Brett. You think you can force me to tell them by outsmarting me.”
“No,” Brett disagreed. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. With an arrogant grin, he winked brashly. “I can force you by pissing you off, sweetheart.”
She scoffed. “Yeah right. At this point, the only way they are going to find out a damn thing is if someone tattles on me.” Pointedly looking at each and every one of them, she said, “That means you, Deke, Adam, or Rafe are going to have to rat me out. Are you going to do that? Are you willing to lose me to save me from myself?”
Her sarcastic question didn’t go over well with the men. Ethan frowned at her, his pretty boy face creasing in frustration, while Brett and Sam both gave her the evil eye.
I think someone pissed in everyone’s Cheerios this morning. Probably a damn good thing that I ate a chocolate Pop Tart.
“If it means you’re happy,” Ethan finally told her, “I think I would be willing.”
Brett and Sam both nodded their agreement, murmuring their assents.
Bastards
. Katie-Anne knew that they would do it. They would tell, and they wouldn’t regret it for a second. Hell, she’d anticipated they would. Yet his words still caused her heart to throb in her chest—from fear of losing them, from terror of losing her two best friends, and from outright panic of losing her men.
Like they’re mine now, she thought snidely.
Reasonably, her common sense told her that they would all forgive her eventually, and it told her that they would love and trust her more. However, she wasn’t willing to take the chance, no matter what the outcome may be. She didn’t want to hurt anybody she cared about, and she didn’t want them to hurt her. No, she couldn’t tell them. And she wouldn’t. It wasn’t worth it.
“Whatever,” she muttered. “I came here for support. Obviously that was stupid of me.” She shot to her feet and made a beeline for the nearest exit. “You can tell them. You can tell the whole Goddamn town. I can’t stop you, but I can leave. And I can choose to not come back.”
“Where are you going to go?” Brett asked worriedly as he got up and trailed behind her.
“I have to go to Jaycee’s for her birthday party,” she said without looking back, sounding so cold that she nearly shivered. Stalking down the hallway, she grabbed her purse from the table in the foyer then slipped on the shoes that she’d placed beside the door when Sam had let her in. “I just pray they were telling me the truth, and Shane and Landon aren’t there. I don’t want to deal with anymore know-it-all men and bullshit testosterone right now.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Ethan hollered arrogantly, his booming voice starting in the living room then straying down the hallway to where she stood. “It is always nice to be reminded how smart I am. Can you throw in some comments about my hot body?”
Shaking her head, she said nothing to him, Brett,
or
Sam. She just slipped out the door without looking back. She raced to her convertible and jumped inside before starting the engine. Backing out of her parking spot, she turned the car toward the exit and then to her brother’s house.
Well, here goes nothing.
A wave of déjà vu hit Katie-Anne as she emerged from her convertible and headed up the steps. Just a month ago, she’d gotten out of the exact same car on a night identical to this one. She’d walked through the darkness and up the steps, like she was now, guided only by the light from the stars overhead and the wall sconces on the porch. If it weren’t for the slightly cooler January weather, she’d believe she was reliving the night she’d left all over again.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Katie-Anne knocked on the front door. She hoped they actually heard her over the noise inside. She could make out the rumble of the males’ voices, the laughter of the females, and the music blaring from the stereo.
“Jaycee,” she called out loudly. “Open the door! It’s fucking cold out here.”
A squeal came from inside, a second before the door swung open and revealed a noticeably pregnant Jaycee. “You came,” she squealed excitedly as she threw her arms around Katie-Anne then burst into tears. “I–I–I’m sorry. It’s these s–s–stupid pregnancy hormones.”
“It’s okay, J,” Katie-Anne replied, holding her sobbing friend in her arms. She ran her hands up and down Jaycee’s back in what she hoped was a soothing motion. “I understand.”
More than you know.
Katie-Anne wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, and she didn’t care. Leaving her best friends in a few days was enough to bring tears to her own eyes. Maybe she needed a little comfort, too. She instinctively squeezed her friend tighter. “I’m so sorry,” Katie-Anne whispered. And she was sorry, sorrier than she could or would say.