The Wolves Catch Their Attorney(42)

“Don’t do that, Sierra. Don’t do that to us,” said Fergus.

“What? Do what? I haven’t touched either of you.” Sierra was confused. She wasn’t even in the bathroom yet, just standing outside it.

“Your face has gone all blank and your eyes have stopped sparkling. You’re back in work mode, planning to ignore us, aren’t you? Whatever you need in a relationship, we can work it out together. Cam and I are flexible, we’re willing to rearrange our lives so this union   is successful. We don’t expect you to give up your career.”

Cam stepped out of the shower, soap still in his hair and down his back. “Hell, no. We know how important your career is to you, that’s why we’re all here tonight, after all.”

“I love you, both. I really want to be with you. I would never have told you about my determination to be made partner unless I fully and completely trusted you both. No one else knows that. It’s never been written down or expressed anywhere except in my mind until I told you both last Monday. But my work isn’t nine to five Monday to Friday. It’s an all-encompassing thing that fills almost every hour of every day. Working eighty-hour weeks is pretty normal for me.”

Sierra could feel pain and hurt building in the back of her throat. She did love them and want them so much, and she didn’t want to hurt them either. They’d been so caring and wonderful to her. How could she be selfish and spiteful to them? But how could they have more than they already had? There wasn’t time in her life for anything. Hell, half the time she had to choose between doing a load of laundry or going grocery shopping. She couldn’t even find the time to do both. And that was without the issue of needing to keep their relationship quiet. It was vital for her, but would that make them feel demeaned? Second class? Hurt beyond measure?

Fergus put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them gently. “Get in the shower and let us massage those tense muscles. When we’re all clean we’ll sit and talk. We can solve whatever is eating you up.”

Cam tugged her into the room and under the water. Even through the painful lump of stress in her chest that prevented her from swallowing, she wanted to laugh at the soap bubbles sliding down his spine and dripping off his ass onto the floor.

Sierra stood under the hot water and lifted her head up to the spray, loving the water pouring through her hair and over her body. Cam took the shampoo bottle out of her hand and poured a dollop of it into his hands then began massaging her head.

“Hey, you’re good at that. Have you considered becoming a beautician instead of a nurse?” she teased him.

“You’d be surprised how many women who’ve had major surgery get back to their room and the first thing they want is their hair washed. They’re still half-unconscious from the anesthetic, but all they ask for is having clean hair. It’s just as well they’ve invented that stuff to brush through hair to shampoo it, or I really may have ended up as a hair washer in a beauty parlor,” he said.

Sierra laughed, the lump in her chest dissolving with the tangles from her hair. She did love the way they made her smile and laugh, yet treated her as an equal. They didn’t talk down to her or patronize her, or place her on a pedestal. Instead they accepted her as who and what she was, with all her abilities and her flaws. Because they love me. They genuinely love me just as I love them.

When they were all clean, Sierra tied up her hair in a towel and they all wrapped towels around their bodies and went and sat back on the bed.

“Now spit it out, Sierra. What wasp is biting you?” asked Fergus.

They’re so sweet and kind and caring and I’m going to sound like a selfish bitch, but I can’t help it. This is my life, too. “I do love you both. I’ve said that several times now. But my career means everything to me. I’ve worked so hard, given up everything for it—to succeed, to make partner, to climb even higher than that.”

“We get that. We’re committed to helping you succeed,” said Cam.

“But don’t you understand? Any hint I’m involved in a ménage relationship and my career will come to an immediate end. None of those men will tolerate the thought that I’m involved with two men. They’ll crucify me and the clients will run a mile to get away from me. No company will employ me. And that’s just the first problem. I don’t have time to cook and clean, to pack you brown-bag lunches to take to work. Hell, half the time lunch for me is an apple and a cup of coffee. I work eighty hours many weeks. That means after I go to the gym and sleep six hours a night there’s no time left for anything else in my life.”