Sunset Tryst (16 page)

Their breaths mingled while their lips and mouths and
tongues collided. His and Garrett’s cocks thrust in and out of their woman in
time to a beat only the three of them could hear. Hell, hear? He could
feel
it. It was a living, aching, vital part of him—and it was killing him, plunge
by destructive plunge.

“Oh God. Oh my God,” Riley repeated.

Understatement of the century, right there. Chants weren’t
going to cut it, not for Evan. Moans weren’t either. Shouts so loud and fierce
his throat bled?

Maybe.

But he couldn’t even force those out.

Not until she levered herself against him and shoved
backward toward Garrett. Not until she rocked into them harder. Fucked them
faster. Moved into them deeper.

Evan jacked his hips and ass off the bed, thrusting upward,
straining to be as far inside her as he could get. He clenched his teeth and
dug the heel of his good foot into the mattress, trying to hold on. But it did
no good. The instant her pussy started to tighten on him, he knew he was a
goner. There was no stopping the potent electricity centered in his balls and
the base of his dick from splintering off and zapping the rest of his pelvis,
his spine, hell, even his fucking brain.

And he wasn’t alone.

Garrett’s eyes turned glassy in the dark shadows of the
bedroom. Riley reached over her shoulder, grabbing for her husband, clutching
the wavy curls at the nape of his neck as she cried out, rearing her hips and
ass back further. Her pussy seized as she came, and came hard. And then
Garrett’s lips were at her temple, parted on a shout of his own, one that
rivaled the deep and hoarse groan Evan gritted out. The three of them held on
for all they were worth, muscles tense and stiff, expressions even more so, as
they all let go and blew apart together.

Garrett and Evan were still inside her when Riley pressed
her palms to her face and covered her eyes. Her shoulders started shaking and
for a moment Evan almost panicked. But he knew they hadn’t hurt her, that her
tears weren’t because she was in any kind of physical pain.

They were tears of love and want and need.

And of loss.

Evan understood her tears oh-so-soul-crushingly well. Damn
it, damn it, damn it.

Garrett shushed her with his lips against her shoulder,
stroking her arms as he gently pulled from her body. “Baby, don’t. Ah God,
don’t cry. It’s okay, we’ll work it out. I swear we will. You have my word on
that.”

Garrett had told him the same exact thing earlier out on the
deck. Evan wanted to believe him but for the life of him, he didn’t know how
to. He didn’t see a way for any of this to ever be okay, and Riley had to have
felt that too.

“We will. We have to,” was all she said, recovering quickly
with a few final sniffles and a watery, painfully forced smile.

Evan drew her against his chest and into his arms as Garrett
slid out from behind her and off the bed. He plucked a few tissues out of the
box on the nightstand and held them out for Evan, who took them but didn’t put
them to use. He wasn’t ready to pull out of her just yet. She was still so warm
and he still felt so connected. Her tearful anguish ripped through every corpuscle
in his body and all he wanted right now was a few more moments to stay with
her, just like this.

But then his phone whistled at him and lit up from where it
sat on the nightstand, killing that idea entirely. His heart sank, simply
because only one person would text him at this time of night, and he’d do it
only if the matter was extremely important or a dire emergency.

“Here,” Garrett said, handing the phone over while clicking
on the bedside lamp.

Evan one-handed the phone, keeping his other wrapped securely
around Riley’s shoulders as he swiped his thumb across the screen to bring up
his messaging app. He read the text, swore quietly and heaved out a bitter
sigh.

Fucking hell, he’d been right.

“Is everything okay?” Riley asked.

Evan didn’t answer her, he only kissed her lightly while
tossing his phone back on the nightstand. With a single, subtle shift of his
hips, he slipped out of her and helped to roll her to her side before swinging
his legs off the bed. Other than his wince when his feet first hit the floor,
he didn’t move for a very long moment.

The way he clutched the edge of the mattress as he sat there
with his head bowed while breathing deeply screamed to her that everything
wasn’t
okay.

The second she reached out for him, he shot to his feet and
limped off to the bathroom. It took every ounce of restraint she possessed not
to follow him in there and beg for him to tell her what was wrong. Instead, she
sat up and inched in behind Garrett, who took Evan’s place on the edge of the
bed. She rested her chin on her husband’s shoulder as they both expectantly
watched through the bathroom window for a clue, for something to let them know
what was up.

But as soon as Evan flipped on the lights over the sinks, he
also hit the switch to turn the window opaque.

“This isn’t good,” Riley whispered.

“Let’s just give him a minute alone.” Garrett craned his
neck to kiss her forehead. “Being with you two like that was hands-down one of
the most intense moments in my life. And considering how he’s—” He stopped. Sighed.
“Anyway, I’m sure it was for him too.”

There was so much left hanging in that statement. So much
Riley didn’t want to read into. Because if she did, if she let herself go
there, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears that would latch onto
every miserable thought. She was having a hard enough time not giving in to the
bitter unfairness of it all, the last thing she needed now was to add a
slobbery breakdown into the already whacked-out mix.

But damn if knowing all that didn’t stop her from pushing.
“Considering how he’s what?”

Garrett dropped his chin to his chest before sliding his
gaze toward her from over his shoulder. “You know he doesn’t want to leave you,
right?”

Yes, deep down she knew that. She also knew she’d been lying
to herself. No amount of mental pep-talks was going to change the way she felt.
No amount of trying to avoid those feelings would end up lessening the pain of
having to say goodbye. No amount of telling herself, over and over, that she
could spend all this time with Evan and then up and casually walk away was
going to make a light-hearted see-ya-later actually happen.

Because it wasn’t going to happen. He’d imprinted himself on
her, and if he’d done that so quickly, so effortlessly, then she’d be a fool to
think she hadn’t done the same thing to him.

The glow through the window doused and she waited
breathlessly for the bathroom door to open. The instant it did and Evan came
out, she knew.

She knew her time with him was over.

“You have to leave, don’t you?”

He hobbled to the side of the bed and scooped up his shorts
from the floor. He looked away as he plopped down next to Garrett to yank them
on. “Yeah,” was all he said.

Her heart cracked in two. God, she could feel it
hemorrhaging.

“But why?” Okay, that sounded whiny as hell, but she
couldn’t find it in herself to care. She deserved to know why she was losing
her last two days with him.

He balanced his forearms on his thighs and wrung his hands
together where they hung between his knees. “The text was from Simon. He scored
a meeting with a major architect group in Houston. We’ve been trying to get a
face-to-face with the owner of this particular firm since we decided to give
our business a go. Well, he got one. And it’s either tomorrow night, or not at
all.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“At seven.”

“But you
can’t
go. That’s a nine-hour drive, if not
longer. Your foot—”

“My foot is fine. And I won’t drive it. I’ll have my buddy
come pick up the Ducati and store it for the time being so I can fly back.”

Seemed he had it all figured out, didn’t he.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

She only nodded. “Me too.”

Ah hell. She so wished she hadn’t stuffed her head in the
sand all week to avoid thinking about him leaving, because right now she didn’t
know how to react. She wanted to sob uncontrollably, but going off the deep end
like that would only hurt Evan more. And he was drawn tighter than a clam, not
saying another word. She wasn’t sure he could. Christ, the way they were all
pussyfooting around each other was crazy.

She crawled behind Garrett, kneeling at Evan’s back to wrap
her arms around him. “It’s not fair. I don’t want you to go.”

His shoulders slumped even more, if that was possible.
“Riley…”

The heat of her tears burned a trail as they fell down her
cheeks. “When?” she asked.

He hesitated slightly. “As soon as I can get a flight. I
don’t want to stretch this out and make it worse for either of you.”

Oh God. She was afraid he was going to say that. Tears stung
her eyes in earnest now and she had to squeeze them tighter than she ever had
before to hold them back. But it didn’t do any good. The second she opened
them, tears spilled over and cascaded down her face in hot, salty rivers.

Garrett leaned in and pressed his lips to Evan’s shoulder,
adding his arm into the desperate hold Riley had on him. “Let us take you to
the airport. Give us that.”

Evan was shaking his head before Garrett had finished
speaking. “No, no. I can’t…” He nuzzled Garrett’s temple. “I’ll just call for a
car. That’d be best. I want to take
this
memory with me. The one of you two
warm in bed, not one of you two brokenhearted at the airport.”

With one final sigh, he stood out of their arms and went for
his phone on the nightstand. Sweet mercy, she wanted to scream at him. She was
dying to pound her fists against his chest for leaving them, for not staying to
try to figure out some way to be together.

But it wouldn’t matter. Commitment was commitment and she
had to respect him for keeping his.

She had to love him for it.

Which she did, wholly. And she wanted to tell him so. God, she
wanted to shout it at the top of her lungs like she had with Garrett out on the
beach. But she didn’t. She held her love for him tightly inside her, counting
on it to seal the fracture splintering through her heart.

Evan flung the heavy curtains open, disappearing outside on
the deck with his phone in hand. She heard him talking softly a moment later,
making his reservations, which just killed her all the more.

“You okay?” Garrett asked.

Not hardly. She wasn’t even
close
to being okay. “I
will be.” In a year. Maybe more. Hell, maybe never.

“Come here.”

She curled into his arms, listening to Evan’s mumbles out on
the deck while wondering for a moment how one short week could change her life
and alter her outlook so drastically. She was never going to be the same after
this. Life as she knew it and the woman she’d been before, they were both gone,
consequently traded for a deeper love for her husband, a heartache she’d do
anything not to have, and firsthand knowledge that the old adage W
hat
doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
might not be the bullshit she always
assumed it was. Because, while she felt ripped to shreds right now, she knew
she’d come out the other end of this more secure in who she was, simply from
knowing and loving that man out there on the deck.

When he came back in the room moments later, his body
language screamed
wrecked
. His arms hung loose at his sides, his
shoulders slumped, his eyes… Ah God, his eyes. Destroyed. They were destroyed.
“Twenty minutes,” he said.

Wait, hold on. “You’re going now? As in
right
now?”
She shot out of Garrett’s arms. Oh no. No, no, no. “I thought you’d wait until
at least morning.”

“I booked a red-eye. That way Simon and I can get our shit
together before the meeting. And it won’t draw out our goodbyes. I don’t think
any of us would handle that well.”

No, she supposed not. “So we’ll just rip the bandage off, so
to speak, and…and…” A fresh bout of tears threatened as her throat closed up
tight. She was dying here. Sure as anything. Dying, and there wasn’t a damn
thing she could do about it.

He turned his back on her then, digging through his backpack
and pulling out clothes before stuffing the dirty ones lying next to it back
in. He shook out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, but didn’t so much as
look their way before he spoke. His voice was gravelly, shaky almost. And just
as wrecked as his posture had been. “I, um. I’m just going to shower.”

He couldn’t even look at her. Or at Garrett. All he did was
go back in that damn bathroom and shut the door, leaving the window opaque.

Her and Garrett’s eyes met, and she knew he was gauging her,
wondering if she was going to completely lose it. She wanted to. Oh how she
wanted to. But flipping out wouldn’t solve the problem.

Instead, she scrambled off the bed, grabbing up her shorty
robe to slip it on. She knotted the sash too tightly, craving some sort of
discomfort other than her broken heart, and bolted outside onto the deck. The
night air had turned overly humid, feeling thick and damp against her skin and
in her lungs.

A moment later Garrett came out as well. The shorts he’d
thrown back on hung low on his hips, and the small bedside light behind him
silhouetted his masculine physique against the sliding glass doors perfectly.

At any other time, seeing him like that would have her
wanting him so desperately she couldn’t see straight. But right here, right
now, all she could manage to feel was an edgy itch scurrying over her skin. His
expression was shadowed as she sat on the far side of the deck in front of the
copper fire pit, but she could feel him looking at her. She could feel his
stare down to her soul.