Spirits Shared (4 page)

She tugged and pushed and peeled the jeans
off, then grabbed her socks. "Here they are," she said, forcing
herself to meet Tekoa's gaze as she gave him the bundle of wet
things.

He took them and heading toward the bedroom
area. She knelt next to Clay, placed her hand on his chest and he
mumbled something but didn't open his eyes. His heart beat steadily
beneath her palm as if to say
I love you, I'll always love
you
, and her heart matched that beat.

She didn't want to lose him. Not to an
accident. Not to another man.

Firelight caught in the diamond again, and
her eyes burned. She'd only worn it for three months.

She hadn't guessed what he intended when he
suggested they go to the bookstore where they'd met. They'd gotten
there and he'd taken her hand, same as always, but he'd led her
into the children's section and to the exact spot where she'd been
sitting that day she'd looked up and seen him. He'd dropped to his
knees and said,
Marry me, Jess. Make me the happiest man in the
world.

Yes.

His smile had given her heart wings. He'd
pulled a jewelry box from a jacket pocket and opened it.
Like
it? If you—

I love it. I love you. I don't need a
ring.

Wrong. Other guys need to know you've got a
man in your life and you're totally, completely, forever off
limits.

She'd laughed.
Maybe I need to buy you a
new wardrobe and every item of clothing will say, Hands off. This
man is Jessica's Property.

Do it, babe. Do it.

The burn in her eyes became the hot wash of
tears against her cheeks. She wiped them off as Tekoa knelt on the
other side of Clay.

"When one of my people is sick or injured we
perform a sing for them. I'd like to do one for Clay."

Her gaze jerked upward to meet his. "A
healing ceremony? Like one of the ceremonies in the Tony Hillerman
stories?"

He smiled. "Tony Hillerman, huh? I've got
some of his books. But no, I'm not like Chee and I'm not one of the
Dineh, the Navajo."

"What are you then?"

"In English you'd call us the People of the
Thunderbird. Will you allow me to do a healing for Clay?"

"Can I watch?"

"You can stay in the room if you'll close
your eyes."

Beneath her hand a hard shudder went through
Clay. "I'll keep my eyes closed. Can I stay where I am?"

"As long as you don't touch him."

He placed his hand over hers where it rested
on Clay's chest and her heart fluttered in a way it hadn't for
anyone else since the day she met Clay.

Would Clay be attracted to Tekoa? Was this
the type of man he wanted for a lover?

She shivered, unable to deny that a part of
her had liked catching Tekoa looking at her. "He'll be okay," Tekoa
said, squeezing her hand then standing. "I want to change into more
traditional clothing. It'll take me a few minutes."

He walked to the far end of the cabin,
moving with the same easy confidence as Clay. He took what he
wanted from a dresser drawer then crossed to the bathroom.

Their eyes met and held. She dropped her
gaze first, guilty heat crawling up her neck and into her cheeks.
She shouldn't be noticing Tekoa, shouldn't be attracted to him, not
with Clay injured.

"Clay," she said, rubbing her fingertips
over his nipple, urging him to respond, suddenly needing
reassurance that he was going to be okay, that
they
were
going to be okay.

His eyelids fluttered open. The pupils were
still uneven but not any worse.

She brushed a kiss against his lips. "How do
you feel?"

"Chest hurts. Less now. Sleepy." He blinked
rapidly. "Concussion, right?"

"Yes."

He closed his eyes. She touched her mouth to
his forehead. He mumbled, "Didn't mean to get off to such a bad
start."

"We'll be back on track soon."

But not on the same track. Everything had
changed
—
except how much she loved him. And how much he loved
her. If she didn't believe in them, really, really believe that he
was the man for her, they'd be on their way home right now instead
of in Tekoa's cabin.

"Should have waited to tell you. Didn't mean
to blurt it out in the car like that." Clay shuddered. "Wish I
wasn't, but I am."

Ache returned like a fist around her heart.
He'd convinced himself that he was mostly heterosexual, that's what
he'd said after
The Revelation
and she believed him.

But what if he was wrong about being bi,
too? What if they became a threesome and a year down the road, or
two years down the road, or later, he realized that he was mostly
attracted to other men.

It seemed impossible, given their sex life.
But…

A year ago, a month ago, a day ago—a few
hours ago—she'd have bet everything she owned that he was straight.
And she'd already given him the things that had the most value, her
trust, her heart.

She spun the ring, closed her hand so the
diamond dug into the back of her fingers, as if pain could drive
out the uncertainty.
Maybe just knowing you accept the need will
be enough to keep it manageable
, he'd said but that was more
hope than belief.

She took a deep breath. Right now their
future together wasn't what she should be worrying about. She
wanted to believe that Tekoa could help Clay with a healing
ceremony, but afterward, she'd ask him to check the status of the
roads.

The bathroom door opened and Tekoa stepped
out like warrior from the past, wearing a loin cloth and bare skin.
His hair fell in thick black waves over his shoulders and back. On
either side of his face, feathers and beads the same color as the
thick rug she and Clay were on, a combination of red, blue, yellow,
black and white, had been woven into a thin braid.

Her eyes caught on Tekoa's as he came toward
her and his gaze held the same fierceness, the same sense of power
and wildness present in the Thunderbirds on top of the totem
poles.

Everything inside her tightened and heated.
Her breasts grew heavy and achy, her sex wet and swollen.

She shivered, imagined herself naked and
waiting on a blanket for him to come to her.
Admit you're
attracted
, she told herself.
Admit you can be attracted to
someone else and it doesn't change what you feel for Clay
.

Her heart banged harder. The admission that
would come after those two would be accepting that Clay could be
attracted to someone else, and that'd lead to a decision about
whether or not to act on that attraction.

She ripped her eyes from Tekoa's. They
landed on the loincloth and the erection straining against the soft
material.

Heat flushed into her face and burned hotter
at discovering she was stroking Clay's abdomen as if willing his
cock to harden.

Tekoa knelt on the other side of Clay and
said, "If you'll shut your eyes, I'll start."

She slammed them closed, her heart speeding
and aching, tears forming.
I'm not a cheater,
she wanted to
tell him. If this had happened earlier in the day, before
The
Revelation
…

Despite the physical attraction, Tekoa
probably pitied Clay for having asked her to marry him. He was
probably anxious to get her out of his cabin before she crossed the
line by coming on to him.

She balled her hands in her lap and Tekoa's
voice filled the cabin. It started low and slow but grew louder and
faster.

He'd called it a sing, but she couldn't
separate the sounds into individual words though they resonated
inside her, felt as if they struck some familiar, deep place

The ache in her chest eased. Her fingers
relaxed and unfurled. The sense of being where she was supposed to
be filled her, as if the song was a chord that linked her soul to
the past and to the power that was earth and wind and water and
fire.

Tekoa didn't have a drum but she heard one
beat, the sound of it like a heart growing stronger, louder,
returning to health. Tears wet her cheeks, called from her as if
the song and the drum were reaching into her and healing the place
left raw by Clay's confession.

She wiped at the tears without opening her
eyes and Tekoa's voice grew low and slow again. His song touched
her soul and she turned her face away, afraid that even with her
eyes closed he would glimpse her terrible fear of losing Clay, of
having their relationship come to an end.

The song built and gathered power. It
blended and merged with the phantom drum.

It grew louder. Faster. Lifted as if
reaching upward to where Thunderbirds soared. And Jessica went with
it, her breath a gasp into the sudden silence.

Heart pounding in her ears she opened her
eyes and Clay smiled up at her, his pupils even, normal.

She touched his mouth with trembling
fingers. Her tears fell onto his chest and then onto his face.
"You're okay?"

He covered her hand with his, smiled against
her fingers. "You're raining on me, babe."

Her laugh was a choked sob. "I can't help
it."

His hand curled around hers, squeezed. "I'm
good. I wrecked the car?"

"A boulder slammed into it and we went off
the road."

"Don't remember. Feel like I've been in some
funky Western."

She bit her bottom lip and risked a glance
at Tekoa. His easy smile said he wasn't offended.

Clay followed her gaze. His eyes heated and
his hand loosened on hers as if she was no longer there.

Ache returned to her chest and spread.
I'm not enough for him. I'll never really be enough.
Her
throat tightened. Her heart was a leaden weight sinking into a
hollowed stomach.

Clay's cock hardened and lifted away from
his abdomen. She'd wondered if he would be attracted to Tekoa and
now she knew.

She glanced at Tekoa and found his gaze
locked on Clay's, his eyes heated the same way they'd been when
he'd looked at her.

Maybe just knowing you accept the need
will be enough to keep it manageable
, Clay had said but here
was the chance for him to get what he needed, what he'd denied
himself since meeting her. She rubbed her thumb over her engagement
ring.

Can I really share him? Can he really share
me? Or would this be the beginning of the end?

She pulled her hand from beneath Clay's and
stood. "I'm going outside for a few minutes."

Tekoa stood. Cop instinct and the ability to
read a situation took over where a second before he'd been healer
and Thunderbird spirit.

He grasped Jessica's arm and kept her from
escaping the room. He'd let her go in a minute.

There was no missing that Clay was bisexual
and she was aware of it. Or that she was physically attracted to
him though she was fighting the attraction.

It was a start and he wouldn't give her time
to shore up her defenses. The three of them were meant to be
together and he wanted to get it out in the open now.

He shoved his free hand into her hair. Her
eyes widened but by the time she tried to pull away his mouth was
on hers.

Mine
, he thought and pleasure
highjacked him with the feel of her soft lips, the first hint of
her taste.

A thrust of his tongue and that taste
deepened, intoxicated. She was what he'd dreamed of having, a mate
to fly with when the storm called. And he wouldn't allow her to run
away or deny her physical response.

His tongue swept her mouth, thrust against
hers and her nipples hardened, stabbed him through her shirt and
bra. Her body yielded in a way that said she liked a dominant lover
and a searing wave of lust burned through his cock.

He wanted her. Here. Now. With Clay
watching.

She shivered as her barriers dropped. She
whimpered, her lips soft under the onslaught of his, and somehow he
managed not to cup her mound, to push his hand beneath her panties
so there'd be no hiding the truth.

He would mate with her. He would mount her
and she'd welcome his cock.

But he didn't want to push too far, too
fast. He didn't want to back her into an emotional corner where
running or fighting became her only options.

He lifted his mouth. Easily read the panic,
the guilt, the desire and fear in her eyes before she pulled away
and escaped to the porch.

Clay stood, his heart trying to climb up his
throat and go after Jess. Fuck! So far he was zero for three when
it came to smart moves.

He fisted his hands but didn't know who
deserved the punch more, him for responding physically to another
man in front of Jess, or the other man for coming on to her. But
Christ, it's not like he could have controlled his dick.

He remembered their driving past the totem
poles. Remembered her saying she heard drums beating, and then…
Memory wipe until there'd been incredible warmth.

Slowly he'd become aware of the singing.
Then a drum beating, controlling the rhythm of his heart. And that
drum had been joined by other drums, by other voices, and all of
them had seemed
ancient
.

He'd opened his eyes, and it'd been like a
waking dream. An old Native American guy squatted on the other side
of a campfire, crushing a tobacco leaf and rolling it into a
cigarette.

Tekoa. He is the one you were hoping to
find.

A thousand drums were beating but the old
man's words sliced through the noise like a kayak through roaring
water. And then the campfire exploded into streaks of red, yellow,
blue, and white and that was followed by absolute blackness.

There'd been a sense of coming home, of
rightness. And on some level he'd known there was a man with
Jess.

He'd been half aroused before he'd opened
his eyes and seen Jess's beautiful face. And then he'd turned his
head and seen a wet dream in a loin cloth and he couldn't have
stopped his cock from hardening if he'd jumped into an icy
stream.