Double In (4 page)

“It was wrong,” Reid said. “The whole damn situation was
wrong. It never should’ve gotten started and it sure as shit never should’ve
gone so far. If we could turn back the clock and do it all different we would.”

“Well, you can’t. Things happen for a reason.” And apparently
the reason behind all of this had been to show her the true colors of the
Bishop siblings.

“That’s right. They do,” Porter agreed. “Tonight happened
for a reason, too. We can’t change what we did then, but we can apologize to
you now. We can settle this between us and try to put this bad blood behind
us.”

“You deserve this place,” Reid said. “Martin knew it. We
knew it. We might’ve let Blair get away with putting our names on that court
order, but we never thought she was right.”

Marsha looked at Reid and saw regret swirling with what she
could only define as hope in his eyes. She slid her gaze to Porter and saw the
same on his face. Funny thing was she actually believed them. If only they’d
said these things to her then instead of a full year later.

“You’re still expecting me to forget it all.” She couldn’t.
No matter how badly she wanted to, she simply couldn’t do it.

“No. We’re asking you to forgive us,” Porter corrected.
“We’re asking you to understand that a family bond requires people to be idiots
sometimes. It all but demands people to stand back and keep their mouths shut
sometimes even when they know it’s the wrong thing to do.”

She’d never had that kind of bond, never had a real family.
Her mother had been the only presence she’d ever had in her life until she’d
met the Bishops. Yet she knew Porter was right. She would’ve, and had, stuck by
her mother on many occasions and not said a word even when she disagreed with
her mother’s choices.

All because she was Mom. She was family.

Porter pushed away from the bar, rounded it, and walked
behind her. “We’re also asking you to give us another chance.”

Marsha turned her stool full around so she could face him
and tipped her head back to meet his gaze. Her heart skipped at the intensity
in his expression. Need swam through her at being so close to him.

“But I don’t want things like they were before.” He cupped
her cheek and her eyes widened. The touch sent razor-sharp blades of desire
slashing through every erogenous zone in her body. She didn’t miss the way he’d
changed from referring to himself and Reid, to simply himself now. Dear God,
he’d never touched her this way, never looked at her with this level of heat
and want in his eyes. “I want more.”

She saw it coming but was too shocked to move even if she’d
wanted to. Her mouth went bone dry as he leaned in, brushing his lips over hers
in a kiss so light she nearly thought she’d imagined it. Her lips parted in
surprise and he repeated the kiss, this time pushing his tongue into her mouth
and out again in a rhythm that had her world rotating with confusion and
desire.

How could something so odd feel so right? This was Porter.
Porter! The man she’d fantasized about kissing, about
fucking
, even as
she dreamt of ways to slaughter him for the way he’d hurt her.

The kiss was brief, but it was enough to leave her
breathless and dizzy and wanting to do nothing more than lie down with him on
top of her.

He licked her bottom lip as he pulled away and brushed the
tip of his nose to hers.

Marsha stared at him, utterly speechless and fantastically
ready for more. Even if she’d found words to say, a way to express the myriad
things surging through her system, she would’ve lost it in the next instant
when Reid reached for her.

“My turn.” He’d slid off his barstool and snaked an arm
around her waist, turning her toward him and drawing her in. He didn’t
hesitate, didn’t give her a moment to anticipate. He captured her mouth with
his, drove his tongue between her lips, and kissed her senseless.

He took a bit more time than Porter had. His tongue glided
over hers, licked the roof of her mouth and the back of her teeth. He made slow
love to her mouth. At least that’s what it felt like as his tongue tangled with
hers once more, going deeper, slower until she was melting in his embrace,
powerless to control her body’s movements.

She very nearly whimpered when he pulled away, half of her
hoping Porter would take another turn next. Instead, Reid stepped back and let
his arm fall from her waist. Her lips pulsed from the kisses and she touched
them, still in shock, completely mesmerized.

“Are you all right?” Reid asked her softly.

“I…wow! Umm, I…”
Can’t think straight. Can’t talk
straight. Hell no, I’m not all right!
“I need another shot.”

Porter chuckled. “I’ll get you one.”

Her hand shot out, catching his rock-hard biceps as he
started to turn. “No, I want you to go.”

The look that came into his eyes nearly broke her heart.
Disappointment mixed with a sadness she’d never thought to see in this man’s
expression and she hurried to explain.

“For tonight. Just tonight.” She blindly reached for Reid,
her fingers closing around his forearm. “You can call me in the morning. Either
of you can. Both of you can.” She huffed a breath and frowned. “Damn, you both
really know how to confuse a girl, don’t you?”

The corner of Porter’s lips quirked and his expression
softened. “We’ll call you tomorrow.”

Back to we again. Yep, confusions-r-us was definitely a neon
sign advertising these men.

Reid covered the hand she’d put on his forearm with his free
one. “You want to let us out so you can lock up behind us?”

Marsha nodded. Porter moved aside and she slid off her stool
to walk behind the bar and get the keys. She met them at the door, unlocked it
and waited as they stepped outside. Neither of them said another word, but the
looks they gave her would stay with her for the rest of the night. Hell,
probably for the rest of her life!

She closed the door behind them, locked it, and rested her
forehead on the dark, tinted glass. She’d known trouble had walked into her bar
tonight when she’d spotted the two of them. Damn if she’d realized the full
extent that trouble would turn out to be.

Chapter Four

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in.”

Marsha put a hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from
the sun, and followed Donnie’s gaze to the fence line. Heat that had nothing to
do with the early afternoon temperature and everything to do with the hotbeds
of perfection walking through the gate seared through her system.

She hadn’t seen them since they left the bar Thursday night.
She’d talked to them, though. Porter had called first thing Friday morning.
Reid had waited until lunchtime. Both had kept her on the phone for more than
an hour.

To her utter shock neither conversation had been awkward.
Despite the still-haunting tension of the past, the tone of their conversations
had been like it used to be. She and Porter had talked more about her plans for
the bar renovation and about the Southern Boys’ standings in the Thursday night
division. She and Reid had talked about softball, football and the weather.
Neither had mentioned the kisses they’d laid on her before leaving the bar, yet
oddly those few intimate moments had seemed to add a new dimension to their
struggling friendships.

“I wondered if they would start showing up here, too.”
Donnie hawked a loogie and spat it on the ground near his feet. “I’ve got to
say it’s good to see them coming around again.”

Marsha couldn’t disagree with that. She’d missed getting her
daily dose of their hard bodies and handsome features. She let her gaze rip
down Reid’s six-foot-two frame, lingering on his lower body. He wore his
trademark cap, a pair of light-gray cargo shorts, tennis shoes, and nothing
else. The shorts rode low, lovingly curving around his hips and impressive bulge
in the front while fitting baggy around his legs. She yanked her gaze up before
she made a drooling fool of herself and hesitated again, this time on his lean
chest sprinkled with springy dark hairs.

Most of the men preferred to play shirtless and it never
bothered her or any of the other women who joined in the game. Hell, it wasn’t
as if she’d never seen Reid without a shirt before. But after that
breathtaking, world-altering kiss, everything about him seemed more pronounced,
hotter,
sexier
.

Her gaze skipped to Porter and she didn’t find an ounce of
relief from the wildfire wreaking havoc on her insides. He wore a white muscle
shirt that accentuated his already broad shoulders and molded to the corded
muscles of his chest like a second skin. His denim shorts fit much like Reid’s
cargo ones. They clung to his hips and groin and sent her hormones on a
partying frenzy.

“You two getting in on today’s game?” Donnie asked when Reid
and Porter got within hearing distance.

“We didn’t plan to stand around and watch.” Porter looked at
her and she could’ve sworn his gaze landed right on her mouth. Her lips
certainly broke out in a full-blown tingle as if it did, shooting sizzling
sparks of memory and lust straight down to her toes.

“Got room for two more?” Though Donnie had been appointed
the coordinator of their Saturday games, Reid directed his question at her,
almost as if he were asking for her permission.

They’d understood she couldn’t forget the past, but they’d
asked her to forgive and,
dear God
, asked her for more. She still didn’t
quite know how much more that more entailed, but every fiber of her being was
screaming to find out.

“Always.” She smiled, hoping to alleviate another smidgen of
the tension between the three of them. It was obvious they were trying and,
damn it, she couldn’t hold on to her mad forever. “Glad you guys are here.”

Reid’s lips kicked into a sideways grin. “Then let’s play
ball.”

* * * * *

What is it with fuckers touching her ass?

Porter seethed as Jamie Hartsman slid into second and he nearly
clobbered the guy before he caught hold of his temper. This time had been
different than when Randy palmed Marsha’s ass Thursday night. Randy was a
prick, he’d been well on his way to a good drunk, and he was notorious for
putting his hands on women. Jamie was ordinarily a gentleman. Porter had known
the guy since middle school and they’d yet to exchange blows for any reason.

Yet.

“Tight game, huh, man?” Jamie shot him a quick glance, then
turned his focus on Toby as the man stepped up to bat.

Porter merely grunted, knowing if he allowed himself to
speak right now he would likely say something to make that “yet” history.

Marsha hadn’t slapped Jamie. She hadn’t even flinched when
he’d flattened his hand on her ass as he picked her up and spun her around
after she flew across the home plate. She’d laughed, the sound traveling like
an angel’s song on the warm afternoon breeze, pulled back in his embrace, and
grinned from ear to ear at the man. It was the first time Porter had considered
she might have the hots for someone else.

The sound of solid wood colliding with stiff leather
reverberated through the air and Porter snapped out of his trance. Toby tossed
his bat to the ground with a thud and broke into a dead run for first. Porter
didn’t have a clue where the ball went. He only knew Jamie was making a break
for third and he didn’t stand a chance at stopping the man.

He cursed under his breath, raked a hand through his sweaty
hair, and readied his stance for the next batter.

Focus, you stupid shit.

But he was focused…on Marsha. Her incredible legs in shorts
that afforded every man out there an amazing view of tanned upper thighs
carried her to the plate. She’d tied the T-shirt she wore sporting the Bulls
Eye Billiards logo in a knot on one side just above the waistband of her
shorts. She wore her hair in a high ponytail and several wavy tendrils had
escaped to flirt with the side of her face.

Porter curled his burning fingers into fists. He wanted to
skim his hands up her bronzed thighs, untie her T-shirt and take it with him as
he continued his perusal of her curvy body. He wanted to yank the tie from her
hair and run his fingers through the satiny strands as they fell free over her
shoulders, the tips teasing the tops of her breasts. He wanted to flatten
his
hands on her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist while he impaled her
with his rigid cock.

Jeez!
If Jamie or any guy besides Reid touched her
again, he would go mental.

He knew she’d been with other men. Hell, he and Reid went on
a triple date with her and Coby once. Porter had been attracted to her then,
but he tended to find something attractive in most women he met. He hadn’t been
lusting after her yet, though.

And there we go with the damn yet again.

Yep. The day he started lusting after her was the day he
started getting jealous. Him! Jealous! Who would’ve thought? He damn sure never
would have. Still, he needed more fingers and toes than the Good Lord gave him
to count the times he’d wanted to rip a guy’s head off for looking at her or wanted
to saw off a guy’s arms for touching her. Lucky for him and every man for three
counties around, if she’d had sex with anyone in town he didn’t know who. He’d
hate to have to put a man’s family jewels through a grinder.

“Porter, you want to win this or we just going to let them
have it?” Reid snapped at him from across the field.

Reid didn’t snap. He rarely lost his cool and even when he
did, only those closest to him knew it. Like now. Even from a distance, Porter
saw the temper simmering in his brother’s eyes and knew he’d been hit by the
same green-eyed demon that got Porter’s back up.

Back at home plate, Marsha swung at the ball, smacked it
with a force that sent it high into the air, dropped the bat and hauled ass.
She touched first, not slowing a bit, and hightailed it for second, shooting
glances right and left as she ran, paying close attention to where the ball
landed.

Porter barely saw it, a dark circle shadowed by the blinding
sun heading straight toward him. He readied himself to catch it, at the same
time seeing Marsha close in out of the corner of his eye. He saw her stumble.
Or maybe she was trying to dive into second. Either way, it registered in a
nanosecond that she was going down hard and he found himself left with the
choice of catching her or the ball.

It was an easy decision to make.

* * * * *

“How are your knees?” Toby asked Marsha as he walked behind
her in the buffet line.

Reid shoveled a slice of pizza in his mouth and scowled.
She’d skinned them pretty good with that slide into second. Porter had let her
take the fall, going for the ball, and tagging her out mere fractions from the
base.

It’s what he would’ve done, Reid reflected. They’d learned
quickly not to coddle her in sports or anything else for that matter. Marsha
was tough, strong, and had a head made of freaking granite. Seeing as how he
and Porter were currently doing their damnedest to chip away at that granite,
pissing her off by trying to save her from a couple of skinned knees wasn’t the
way to go.

“Nothing a little peroxide won’t help when I get home,”
Marsha answered Toby and the other man made a face that sent her into a fit of
laughter.

Reid tossed his pizza crust on his plate and sucked down his
soda, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

“Why is it the two of you look as if you’d rather be chewing
someone up and spitting them out instead of gobbling down that pizza?” Jamie
took the seat across from Reid and Porter, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“If I had my choice that someone might be you so I’d watch
it right now, Hartsman,” Porter said softly, but with pure warning in his tone.

Jamie grinned. “Yeah, I figured as much. I’m betting you
didn’t care for me putting my hands on her at the ball field, huh?”

Porter pinned him with a hard gaze. “You’re betting right.”

Jamie threw back his head and laughed. “I knew that would
stick in your craw.” He sobered, though a smile still quirked his lips, and
slid his gaze to Reid. “I didn’t know I’d get both of you with that one.
Suspected it,” he added, “but didn’t know for sure.”

“Well, now you do.” Reid gritted his teeth and flicked his
gaze over Jamie’s shoulder. Marsha had filled her plate and took a seat a few
tables away with Coby, Valerie and a couple of the other women who’d played in
the game.

“She’s an amazing woman.” James sprinkled parmesan cheese on
his pizza slices, his gaze jumping from Reid to Porter and back again.
“Beautiful, smart, playful…plenty of guys in this town would give their left
nut to have her.”

“And lose their right nut if they tried,” Porter muttered
and pushed his plate away.

Jamie took a bite of his pizza and spoke around it. “I never
did quite get you two when it comes to her. You start out acting like she’s
nothing but a friend, even though anyone with eyes in his head can see you want
more every time you look at her. Then you let your sister ruin what you’ve got
going and become ghosts for a damn year. Now suddenly you’re back and, what,
staking claim to her or something?”

So much for subtlety.
Were they really that
transparent? Not that Reid gave a damn who knew, but he’d thought he and Porter
had been more discreet.

Porter nodded. “That about sums it up. You got a problem
with that?”

“Nope.” Jamie smacked his lips. “Like I said, she’s a hell
of a woman. I’m just wondering if either of you have told her yet?”

“We’ve told her all she needs to know for now,” Reid said.

“So are you going to give me the hands-off speech, or what?”

Reid shook his head. “Nah, sounds to me as if you already
know the score.”

“Yeah, well, after what I saw today it looked to me as if
she already knows it, too. I’ve got to say, though, I do think you’ve got her
confused. Hell, you’ve got me pretty baffled myself.”

“Why’s that?” Reid asked, blandly.

Jamie shrugged. “The woman’s not sure which one of you is
moving in for the taking. Can’t say I could tell myself from the way you act
around her.”

“We both are,” Porter told him. “She’ll figure that out soon
enough.”

* * * * *

“What did you do to your knees?” Allie gawked and grabbed
the flashlight they kept behind the bar, shining it on Marsha’s legs to get a
better look. “Jeez, Marsha, did you try to turn them into hamburger meat or
something?”

Marsha laughed and took the flashlight from Allie’s fingers,
switched it off, and put it back in its spot. “I slid into second, and they’re
far from minced meat.”

They stung like a bitch though. She’d gone straight down to
her apartment when she returned from the buffet, showered, and changed. She’d
intended to wear jeans tonight, but after shoving one leg inside a pair of
jeans and hopping around for five minutes cursing a blue streak from the pain,
she’d stuck with shorts.

Allie wrinkled her forehead. “Don’t most players usually
slide on their butts to reach the base?”

Marsha shrugged. “I stumbled. It was either go down on my
nose or turn the klutziness into something successful.”

“And was it successful?”

“No.” Marsha frowned. “Porter took me out.” She grinned.
“But I gave it a hell of a try.”

Allie glanced at Marsha’s knees again. “I’ll say.” She drew
her bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully. “So…Porter was there today,
huh?”

“Yes, and Reid was too.” Marsha glanced around the bar,
visually scanning the hands of the scattering of patrons for almost empty
drinks, checking the drinkers at the bar for empty bottles they’d pushed away.

“Then the three of you are talking now?” Allie continued to
probe for information.

Marsha thought about Thursday night, about the game today
and the pizzeria after, about the kisses.
Oh God, those kiss.
Her lips
still tingled in remembrance.

“We’re mending fences.”

The sounds of cars passing on the street filtered into the
bar when the door opened and Porter and Reid walked inside.