She leaned against the wall just inside the kitchen and took a deep breath. I hope I’m doing the right thing. She couldn’t exactly allow Michael and Tyler to continue to tear each other apart. She wasn’t kidding. This was no contest. Instead of fighting over her, they needed to start fighting for her.
She just hoped they made up their mind soon because she didn’t think she could take much more of this. Even through the door, she could smell their masculinity and craved their touch. She definitely needed a few friends right now to help her understand her body’s response to these virtual strangers.
And she knew just the women to call on…
*
Michael stared at Tyler, still scowling. She’s right. He knew that, but it didn’t make things any easier. “So … you’re like some over-educated college grad?” He turned to Tyler, trying not to cringe.
“Something like that. I have a masters in finance.”
Michael looked him over from top to bottom. The man was dressed for the city. Starched white shirt, pleated khaki pants, and some sort of loafers. “I don’t suppose you even own a pair of wranglers and some boots?”
Tyler laughed. “Of course I do.”
How the hell were they ever going to work this out? “I can’t leave this land. It’s my home.” Couldn’t the man see how beautiful this dairy farm was? Why would anyone want to leave it?
“And I can’t stay here. It’s dreary and cold and boring. I’d suffocate in Oregon in about two days. Besides, what the hell would I do on a farm? I’ve never even been near a cow or a horse in my life.”
Michael didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to tell Tyler to fuck off and get the hell out of there, but Alyssa’s words rang inside his head. He wanted that woman more than anything in the world. Even if he had to share her with this highfalutin jackass. Even if you have to leave the land you love?
“What the hell would I do in a city?”
Tyler didn’t respond.
Michael could still smell the remnants of his mate’s scent on the porch. The woman had reeked of sex, her recent orgasm at the hands of another man permeating the air through her jeans. At all costs he had to have her. But what would that cost be?
The crunch of gravel made Michael turn and lean around the side of the house. A long, sleek black pickup pulled to a stop. Ryan. His second oldest brother. And his timing was perfect. If any of his brothers could understand this situation, it would be Ryan.
“One of your brothers, I presume?”
Michael turned to Tyler and smiled. “The perfect one.”
Ryan climbed down from the truck and strutted over to the back porch. “’Lo, boys.” He tipped his hat and reached a hand toward Tyler. “Ryan Masters.”
Tyler shook his hand, standing quickly and awkwardly. “Tyler Evans.”
“My mate tells me there might be a bit of a problem over here.”
“News travels fast around here,” Tyler mumbled.
Ryan laughed. “You have no idea. These women get on the phone with each other, and within minutes, your private business is … well, no longer private. Hell, I expect Jessica and Kara are sending a representative even as we speak. Lindsey was headed to Kara’s when I left to come here.” Ryan turned to Tyler. “Lindsey is my mate. Well, mine and Alejandro’s.”
“Things are a little … tense … unexpected I guess you could say.” Michael angled his neck to one side and then the other, trying to alleviate the tension throbbing up to his temple from his shoulders.
Ryan pulled up a chair and sat between Michael and Tyler. “I don’t really understand why you’re so surprised, to be honest.” He looked right at Michael. “I mean I get it that Tyler has been blindsided, but not you.”
“I didn’t want this for me.”
“I didn’t want this for me, either, you might recall.” Ryan leaned back. “When I walked into Justin and Trevor’s house that day and first saw Lindsey, and then Alejandro, I nearly swallowed my tongue.”
“You hadn’t been in a ménage before?” Tyler spoke up.
“Nope. No intention. Justin and Trevor had always shared women. It was natural for them. I’d never seen Alejandro before in my life until that moment. And I wanted to punch him.”
Michael stared down at his fists. “I know the feeling.”
“You and me both,” Tyler concurred.
“You’re communicating telepathically already, aren’t you?” Ryan nodded at them both.
“Yeah, and it’s strange as hell.” Tyler ran his hands through his strawberry-blond waves.
“We’ll let me advise you not to take swings at each other. The women frown on us mates fighting. I don’t think it’ll get you any brownie points.”