Page 82 of Recurve Ridge

Robe gave me his blessing in letting me become an intimate part of their broken relationship, and I offered up a silent prayer of thanks that he trusted me to uphold it. Neither of us was a saint. We’d shared every woman over the past few years since my arrival at the cabin, but those were only brief flings. None stole my heart like Mari had. Most provided only a physical release at best, an uncomfortable one my body wanted that my brain resisted. Some of the women, often sourced by Alan from the fringes of society, took to our weird-as-fuck relationship guidelines. Some of them lasted one night, but most of them didn’t even make it that far.

The thought of the two of us being with one woman who filled the gaps in our combined past, that dream we worked toward but were still unable to hope for, seemed unattainable at times. But as with Mari, both of us fucking the same girl would be… detrimental to her, physically speaking. Bodies weren’t made to accommodate our combined girth, no matter how much she might like to try. Even some of the whores Alan provided had struggled, and after a while, we gave up on the endeavor.

Until Mari turned up on our doorstep, and the fantasy became that much more tangible.

I stroked her hair back from her face as tiny purrs rose from her. “Sleep, Mari.” I nodded at Robe as he emerged from the shower, his body almost as large as mine, but by the grace of hard work, not God’s design. “You too.”

Robe paused, taking Mari in and how my arms are wrapped around her sleeping form. “Maybe later.”

“You need rest,” I snapped, gritting my teeth at the bitchy tone I hated.

“I know.” The bedroom door closed behind him with a soft thud, his absence marked by a distinct cold air in the room.

My lips pursed, I soaked in the soft sensation of her skin on mine, memorizing the scent of her, and burned the images of her and Robe and the three of us tangled together into my mind for sleepless nights to come.

It was time for Mari to go home.

And soon.

21

MARI

I curledmy legs beneath me, perched on Robe’s lap in one of the kitchen chairs. His enormous body engulfed mine, his arms wrapped around me tight as I laced my hands behind his neck. Twists of gold flickered through the deep chocolate browns of his beard in the morning sunlight that filtered into the kitchen from the small windows either side of the door.

For once, we had the house to ourselves.

The quiet that rang through the space was so unusual that after we finished a meager meal of toast and coffee, we just sat entwined together, enjoying silence broken only by soft forest noises outside.

But in here… quiet reigned.

Robe’s fingers tangled in my hair, stroking soothingly from my scalp around to the nape of my neck and back again. I tilted my head on the downstrokes, looking up into those deep eyes that had loved and ruined me so many times.

Yet, I was still here.

“What did he do to you? Gi—the man we both fear?”

Robe stilled, his strong fingers ceasing their massage. I snuggled a little closer, pressing my lips to the cotton of his shirt where it covered his shoulder and peppering it with tiny kisses.

Somewhere between discovering a soul-deep need for each other and breaking away the physical barriers, we broke through some other walls too.

We might not say the name, but we’d come far enough to talk around it.

He sighed. “Why do you want to know?”

I slapped his chest. While I doubted the small dose of violence hurt him one iota, it stung my palm. “Are you kidding me? You’ve pestered me for five months to tell you about him. I ask once and you say no? That’s a letdown.”

“Fair enough.” Robe closed his eyes for so long, I thought he wouldn’t answer. His fingers resumed their trailing path up my spine and began a deep massage across my shoulders. I bit back the moans of pure bliss that pulsed at the edges of my lips when he started to speak.

“I worked shoulder to shoulder with him,” Robe began, then halted, watching me. He sucked in a long breath and went on. “For three years, we went through officer training school. We served together twice overseas. There were periods during those years when we didn’t see each other, but in the military, that’s not unusual. Work long enough in the same circles and eventually you meet people for a second or third time, even if you haven’t seen them for a decade or more. It’s all too easy to fall back into old habits.

“When we met again, he’d transformed from being a reckless young officer on a small power trip with a chip on his shoulder to become something else altogether. I didn’t realize how deep he’d buried himself in George Petersen’s pocket until it was too late. A terrible assumption. I lost half my unit to an accident. It turned out to be a job he—my friend turned enemy—headed up, stealing weapons to flood the black market back home.” His eyes were shot with remembered anger and pain, a distinct lack of forgiveness tightening his features.

I didn’t blame him. “Why would he do that?”

“Petersen owned a paramilitary group he attempted to arm before he took office. I’m still not clear on the purpose—a coup or a political statement. Our old mayor friend switches his loyalty like a flag directed by the wind. Whatever his motivation was, it backfired on him. A lot of arrests were made. We were away, but the news made it to us all the same. Petersen still came out on top, ultimately preventing a gang war he’d sourced weapons for from taking over the city streets. It won him his seat in NYC. Fucked-up shit. But then… he’s the politician.” Robe’s lips twisted. “He always manages to turn something crooked into a positive for himself.”

I tilted my head. “I’ve seen pictures and I know the name, but I’ve only listened to a few of his speeches. I guess my boss kept that part separate from his business life, which was my focus. Actually, he was really good at compartmentalizing information to make sure people only got as much as they needed for a particular job. And… I’m not really a politics girl.”

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