Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 4
Walker McKenna
“Was that your phone or mine?” I chuckled.
“I don’t wanna find out.” He nuzzled my neck and pressed a kiss there. “The fuck is wrong with everyone? Have they never seen a storm before?”
To be fair, I didn’t think our friends were texting about the storm. After an eighteen-hour power break, the real world was calling to ask if anyone had gossip. Or to make plans and whatnot.
Only five people had a sound signal when they texted me, so as long as my phone merely vibrated on the table, I wasn’t going to look. I wasn’t ready to leave the bubble I’d created with Ty.
We probably looked ridiculous to the others in the coffee shop, and I had zero fucks to give about that. Whatever Ty was doing to me, I was along for the ride. So we sat there in a window and ignored the rest of humanity, and we drank coffee, kissed, and shared a tall stack of pancakes with bacon on the side.
Our phones were turned upside down.
“You look hot in my clothes,” he murmured.
I sent him a sideways smirk and drank from my coffee. “You don’t like the suits?”
“I didn’t say that.” Then he grinned and stabbed a forkful of pancake. “But no. I prefer the primal version of Walker McKenna.”
I laughed softly. There was nothing primal about a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt—unless primal meant unkempt. I did love the jacket I’d borrowed, though. I hadn’t been sure I could pull off brown leather, but damn if I didn’t look fantastic. It was some bomber-type model, and I just might ask where he’d bought it.
“Speaking of McKenna,” Ty went on. “Dean’s name is… Is it pronounced Ay-vik or Ah-vik?”
“The latter. Aavik is from his birth mother—who fled from Estonia during the Soviet occupation.”
“Ahh.” Ty nodded pensively. “I wasn’t sure if he was your half brother or foster brother.”
“Foster brother, technically,” I confirmed. “He was the first one my mother adopted—and that happened before I was born, so he’s always been my big brother.”
“Got it. I overhear a lot when people talk a lot, which everyone did in Florida.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “What did you hear?”
“Macklin, mostly.”
“Yeah, he’s a talker,” I laughed. My sweet boy.
“Anyway. He was sayin’ somethin’ to Lane about you and Dean, and I was just tryin’ to put the puzzle pieces together,” he finished. “Apparently, you and Dean have been fighting lately.”
Oh dear.
I snorted and took another swig of my coffee. “I’m not sure fight is the right word. He came up to Boston over Christmas and told me he’d just slept with Macklin, so I told him to go to hell, and I haven’t spoken to him since.”
Ty stared at me blankly.
I smiled.
Dean and I were going to work shit out. But before then, I had to figure out why I’d been so fucking upset—because I’d already acknowledged that it wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t betrayal either. Okay, it was both, but that had run its course.
What Macklin didn’t know was that I’d fantasized about sharing him with Dean before. Now, thanks to my dumb-ass insecurities, I’d never spoken a word of it to Macklin. I hadn’t mentioned it to Dean either.
Regardless, the thoughts had been there. The fantasy had fueled me many times. And still, to hear about them, just the two of them—fuck me, I got angry now just thinking about it.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Ty stated. “That’s…some in-house drama.”
He’d get no argument from me.
“And here I go, asking more questions,” he continued with a sigh. “Do you think this will hurt your relationship with Macklin? I mean…married to someone a family member’s been with…?”
Oh. Well, I guessed that might be a problem in many cases.
“It’ll make for interesting Christmases, I suppose,” I joked. But no, I didn’t see that causing much of a problem. One would have to understand my relationship with Dean, though. “My brother and I have a…complicated dynamic, I guess is a fitting term. Not only did he introduce me to BDSM when I came of age, we crossed all sorts of lines together when I turned twenty-one.”
Ty cocked a brow, the silent question clear.
I chuckled, experiencing a pinch of discomfort to admit this. “I’m not even gonna blame the fact that I was drunk off my ass when I came on to him. He was home on leave from the Navy—I’d missed him an absurd amount.” I scratched my jaw and… Fuck. I missed him now too. I couldn’t deny that.
I’d buried something the day I’d met Macklin—my history with Dean. I’d painted over it to replace it with a more appropriate version of our brotherhood, and I’d started treating him differently without explaining myself.
Dean had gotten with the program, and I’d suppressed his guarded reaction to the changes.
I’d been a fucking dick.