Spread Your Wings: Men in Blue, Book 4 (18 page)

For the first time in forever, she thought there might be hope.

They were teaching her to believe in dreams again.

That was either the most dangerous thing she could do or the bravest.

Maybe both.

Chapter Nine

Clint tried not to drool on the woman cradled in his arms. To have her pliant, snuggling into him—while aware it
was
him—ranked high on the list of things he’d craved for a while. Regaining his camaraderie, and maybe evolving it, with Matt was right up there too.

Could he have both?

Sure as shit, he planned to try.

When he leaned over the bed, setting Jambrea in the center of the mountain of pillows, she squirmed a bit. He easily held her in place with a hand on her uninjured shoulder. Just thinking of the wound on the other had him seething and wishing he could kiss it better at the same time. Who had done this to her?

Matt ambled over with a tray piled high with flat-topped metal plate covers, which hid platters of amazing-smelling grub. He set the bounty beside Jambrea.

Then he glanced over, practically punching Clint in the gut with his hesitation. When had they become so wary of each other? Always bickering, they fought like an old married couple or a pair of the drunk chicks they arrested from time to time on a bad Saturday night shift.

It sucked.

“Let’s fucking eat, okay?” He waved at the food and Jambi, both sitting there in front of him like the best presents he’d ever gotten. Sure to satisfy all his hungers.

“Yeah.” Matt nodded, though he didn’t climb on the mattress just yet.

Their indecision spilled over to the wild thing between them. Again. Damn it. She was too sensitive to their discord. It might have been creepy if it didn’t seem so sweet that she was perfectly in step with them. Except she kept misinterpreting the real cause of their friction, applying all their faltering to her involvement when that wasn’t the case at all.

“Maybe the two of you really should take the bed. I’ll bunk on the couch. I don’t mind.” She raised a brow at them. “Hand me my omelet and I’ll leave you two to enjoy alone.”

Matt’s mouth opened and closed several times in rapid succession until he resembled Parker when the fish begged for its dinner of tri-colored flakes. If the situation hadn’t been so damn serious, Clint might have busted a gut laughing.

“Uh, it isn’t like that between us, wild thing.” Clint’s sour face could have come from sucking on one of the lemons garnishing the iced tea in a fancy crystal decanter. He poured her a glass, then handed it over, stealing quick contact with her fingers, supple from the too-short bath.

“Lily told me you guys made out.” Jambrea seemed as if she didn’t plan to pull her punches ever again. Certainly she wouldn’t let them get away with half-truths. He was cool with that. Direct and no-nonsense, the new her attracted him even more than her shy veil had. All along he’d sensed the fire hiding behind that thin veneer of civility. Finally seeing it unleashed had him hard. Again. And that wasn’t helping his case right now.

Christ.

“We didn’t French or anything.” Clint shook his head. Though part of him wished they had, either that night or sometime in the seemingly endless months between then and now. At least then he’d know if the weird feeling their stupid dare had given him had been some kind of turn on, or simply indigestion.

“You didn’t?” She tilted her head to the side a bit. “Why would Lily lie to me? I trusted her.”

With that, he couldn’t stay away. He rounded the bed and settled onto the mattress as carefully as he could. When both he and Jambrea propped their shoulders against the headboard, Matt began dishing out plates and silverware. Then he climbed onboard too, rocking them with his bulk, though he sandwiched Jambi as gracefully as possible.

“It was just a kiss. One little peck.” Matt stepped in to help. “We pissed Lily off. And to make it up to her, she dared us to do it. It was nothing.”

Did he really mean that? Clint held back a groan. Because it had meant something to him. Got him thinking about possibilities he’d never considered before. Had him wondering what it would be like to share a woman with another guy. How they would end up with incidental junk-touching…and maybe more.

It seemed odd to think they could explore so much yet stop short. Would they?

“Is that what you’re going with? Really? From my perspective it looks like it had a pretty big impact.” Their girl pushed her eggs around her plate with her fork. At first she seemed upset. Then she turned cranky in a flash. And she lashed out, for which he didn’t blame her at all. They deserved it. “It made you two fools run away from me. From
us
. From what we’d shared the night Mason and Tyler busted down my door. I may have hardly any experience but I’m not a moron. What happened that night was special. I’m guessing your
nothing
kiss was too.”

“Well, yeah.” Clint paused shoveling hash browns into his mouth long enough to scrub his knuckles over his eyes. “So I think we freaked a little. At least I did. It’s a lot to ask of a guy. You know, to first think he might not have the girl of his dreams to himself like he’d always imagined. And, on top, to learn that maybe he’s not entirely straight. Or at least open to the possibility of some variety. Right?”

Matt swallowed hard. Probably not only because orange juice gave him heartburn either. As much as he enjoyed the treat, the dumbass would pay for that later. Clint made a mental note to pick up some antacids from the gift shop in the lobby.
 

Neither he nor Jambi let his partner off the hook, though. They waited patiently until he agreed, “Right. And it didn’t feel like we should tangle you up in our mess when we couldn’t seem to get our shit together.”

“Exactly.” Clint slid a piece of his cinnamon toast onto Jambi’s plate when he noticed how quickly she devoured her own sweet side dish. Anything he could do to care for her, to show her how he felt, he would. From now on. The last twenty-four hours had reminded him how important it was to make the most of each moment. They’d wasted too much time on misunderstandings and misery.

“So what are you going to do about that?” Jambrea pouted a little. “If you haven’t made any progress, then nothing’s changed. I want you to know I support your self-discovery. I think it’s great if you’re happy with each other. I’m just…”

Moisture gathered at the corner of her pretty eyes. Clint would rather Matt have kicked him in the ribs than see the evidence of her pain. Which they’d caused.

“What, wild thing?” Matt wiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m not sure I can survive being the lubrication that makes it easier for you two to be together, only to be ditched afterward, when you’re strong enough to admit it’s really each other you want.” She blinked a few times, getting herself together, proving again exactly how tough she was. “I care for you both. And, clearly, I’m not the kind of woman who can walk away once my feelings get involved.”

“Are you trying to tell me they’re not already?” Clint prided himself on his maturity when he didn’t even crack a smile at the Jambi’s lube reference. Maybe because he thought he might weep too if she said she didn’t feel the same way he did—jumbled up inside and sick at the idea that they might never figure this shit out. It’d been hard enough to deal with the fact that Matt didn’t seem like he planned to make their one-time indiscretion a habit.

For a long time, Jambrea didn’t answer. Instead, she let Matt fork up a strawberry from his pancakes and slip it between her lips. Clint had never been so jealous of a utensil in his life as he was when she licked the last bit of whipped cream from its tines.

“Jambi, I think you
can’t
say you’re unaffected.” Matt paused his breakfast long enough to finger-comb some of the tangles from her hair. To see his big hands work so skillfully, with a delicate touch, impressed Clint and inspired wicked thoughts. “For the record, I can’t either.”

“If none of us gave a shit, the last six months wouldn’t have sucked so bad, right?” Clint hoped his rationale panned out. He’d spent a lot of nights repeating this mantra to himself. “We’d have given up and gone our separate ways by now if we felt nothing. Who needs all this bull if you’re not invested, right? Hell, Matt could have handed in the request for a new partner that’s been sitting in his desk drawer for at least the last six weeks.”

His insides twisted and he pushed his plate away.

“Oh, fuck. You saw that?” Matt’s face drained of its usual tan, leaving him pale. Like he’d looked the last couple times he’d had a massive hangover, which had happened more in the past few months than it had in the five years before that.

Jambrea wiped her mouth with her napkin, temporarily distracting Clint from the hot coals eviscerating him. She set the cloth down then reached out, taking one of their hands in each of hers. “That’s crazy talk. You two are a perfect match on the force. You’d never be as good with other cops as you are together. I love watching you team up—like at the annual barbecue. How many years in a row have you won the partner games trophy? It’s seamless.”

“Mason and Tyler broke our streak, one of those years in the middle, but…yeah.” Matt spoke directly to Clint. “I couldn’t do it. Even though I thought it was best for you. I’m a selfish prick. I’m sorry. I couldn’t let go.”

“I would never give up on you.” Clint hated the rasp in his voice. The horror that had sat like slime in his guts since he’d spied the paper while hunting for a pack of gum bubbled to the surface. “I’d never even think about it. You’re stuck with me, asshole.”

“Same goes.” The big guy reached across Jambrea to chuck him on the shoulder. “No matter what happens here today, or in the long run with wild thing, you’re my partner. If that means I have to back away from this, I will. You deserve her.”

Jambi seemed like she might protest, but Clint didn’t plan to let it come to that.

“I’d do the same. Give her up for you. I know you’d take good care of her.” He squeezed Jambrea’s fingers, which trembled in his. “But I’m starting to think neither one of us is going to have to make that sacrifice after all.”

“Would you give us another chance, Jambs?” Matt’s chest didn’t so much as move. He must have held his breath as he waited for an answer from the wild thing they’d nearly scared away with their stupidity. Maybe he simply hadn’t been able to believe he could get that lucky. “Please?”

When was the last time Matt Ludwig had begged for anything?

Clint sat forward, as strung out as his partner, waiting for the answer that could change their lives forever. In reality, she’d already done that. In an amazing way. Would her renowned bedside manner extend to them, even after all they’d fucked up?

He crossed the fingers of his free hand behind his back.

Jambrea nodded then whispered, “Yes, of course. But try not to screw it up this time, huh?”

Clint practically dove for the tray. He shoved it off the mattress, onto the ground, only vaguely aware of it landing right-side up. Their cleared-off dishes clattered before the racket was muffled by the plush carpet. There’d be plenty of time to worry about cleaning up the mess later. After he finished devouring the sweet treats in front of him.

Freedom—to display his lust for Jambrea, and his curiosity about Matt—rioted inside him, transforming him into a beast he didn’t know existed. He scooped his arms beneath their wild thing and lifted her enough for Matt to peel her robe off. If his partner’s hum was any indication, they could get used to her wearing such easy access garments around the house.

Clint knew it’d be a hell of a long time before he forgot this unveiling.

A willing exposure. So different from the sneak attack of the night before. While he’d thoroughly enjoyed every ounce of pleasure they’d infused her with, something about being certain she accepted him—them—made every glancing touch of his skin on hers that much more potent.

Jambrea shivered when he trailed his fingers along the pale column of her neck to toy with her collarbones. He glanced sideways at Matt, who smiled softly as he witnessed the interaction.

“It’s weird to see how you are with her. In a good way, I mean.” Matt cleared his throat. “It’s like I know you so well, but never really thought about how you get it on. It’s fascinating to see this side of you. Familiar. Not.”

“I noticed you staring last night.” Clint tried not to betray how much Matt’s intense watching had contributed to his massive hard-on and the ride he’d given Jambrea, and himself by default. He couldn’t wait to do it again.

Jambrea let her head drop onto the pillows and kicked her feet in a mini tantrum that set all the best parts of her to jiggling. “That’s so unfair.”

“Don’t worry.” A chuckle escaped him before he settled low enough to buss her forehead. “We’ll give you plenty to look at. If you can keep your pretty eyes open, that is.”

For once she didn’t object. Instead she reached up and cupped his cheeks in her soft hands, making him wish he’d taken the time to shave. His five o’clock shadow could get kind of scruffy if he wasn’t careful. It’d been a while since he had to worry about a woman’s delicate skin.

Or maybe it’d be best if she allowed him to mark her. Stake a claim. After this, there would be no turning back. If they proved to each other that this triangular bond was possible, he had a feeling their joining would become permanent. Quickly. At least he knew he would fight to the bitter end to reach that goal.