Page 26 of Big Catch
My heart thunders. Did Bray not have anyone? “I know they care. But I’d like to make my own decisions.”
“Tell them to back off,” Ty says.
“Easier said than done. You don’t know my parents.”
Ty touches my face softly as Bray continues to squeeze my hand.
“True, but there comes a time when a person has to take the reins, shut out all the voices, and do what is best for them,” Bray says. “Life is short. As a doctor, you know that better than anyone. You should be happy, do what makes you happy. That’s why Ty and I moved here. Back in New York, we weren’t living; we were just surviving.”
“Best decision,” Ty agrees.
“I know you’re right. My whole life has been about responsibilities. My upbringing was very conservative, and I toe the line, walk the straight and narrow. I’ve never really done anything just for myself.”
“Until now,” Bray says.
“Until now,” I agree. Unease moves through me at the thought of going back home. Sooner or later I fear I’ll cave and go the specialization route, even though it’s not what I really want at the moment. Later maybe, but not right now. “I could always be an obstetrician.” Not that my hospital needs another. Here in Antigua, though, sure looks like they could use an extra.
Bray slides me a glance. “Is that something you’d like, or is that something to make your parents happy?”
“Both, I guess.” A beat passes between us, then I ask, “What are your parents like?”
“Mine were great,” Ty says. “Pretty functional.” He casts Bray a glance, concern in his eyes. “Bray didn’t have it so easy.”
“My father was a bastard. Beat the shit out of me just for fun,” Bray says. “If it wasn’t for Ty and his family, I’d probably be on the streets somewhere.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, my heart squeezing for the abused boy, as I grasp a better understanding of the relationship these two men have. I’d never want to do anything to come between them.
“My biggest fear is that I’ll end up like him.”
“Not going to happen,” I say. “You’re a good man, Bray.”
When they go quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts, I turn the subject back to them. “So why aren’t you guys married?” Beneath the hard bodies and bedroom antics, these two are good men. Correction—great men. “Becca’s kids adore you both, and I see how much you care about everyone in this town, as well as everyone who stays at your villa.”
“Shh, keep that to yourself, or you’ll ruin our reputation,” Ty teases.
“So, you’re not interested in marriage or having a family?” I ask, as my mind trips back to our shopping excursion and the way that pretty girl had touched Ty with ownership. Unease and possessiveness races through me as I picture them with anyone but me. I swallow it down. I seriously have no right to feel so possessive. We’re not committed, and these guys can be with whoever they want. They’re not mine.
“We were waiting for the right girl,” Ty says and from the warm way he’s looking at me I can’t help but wonder if he’s saying I’m the right girl. My heart gives a little jump at that thought, then I quickly push that ludicrous idea aside. This is sex. We’re having fun. Besides, how unorthodox would a trio for life be? Talk about complicated.
Nothing is complicated in Antigua.
Bray and Ty exchange a look, then Bray says, “Sometimes you don’t know what you want until it’s right there in front of you.” He pulls into his parking spot at the villa, and kills the ignition. Bray looks at Tyler again. “Why don’t you head upstairs. Run Aly a bath, and I’ll make us all something to eat and bring it up.”
I make a move to go, and Bray captures my arm. He puts his mouth close to my ear and says, “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about the twenty-five orgasms.”
Heat moves through me at the sexy reminder, and teasing back, I say, “Oh, don’t worry. I would have reminded you if you had.”
His laughter goes through me, and my heart swells. God, I love when he laughs like that—in fact I love a lot of things about him.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
We slip inside the quiet house. The guests are out, doing their own thing for the morning, and Ty takes me upstairs as Bray goes to the kitchen. He crouches, turns on the bath water, checks the temperature, and crooks his finger.
“Come here.”
I step up to him, and he grips the hem of my dress. He stands, and in one quick move, he peels the material over my head. A growl catches in my throat as I stand before him in nothing but my bra and panties. God, when he looks at me like that, it makes me feel so beautiful and wanted. Like he doesn’t want to just hit it and quit it.
“I’m glad you came into the wrong room,” he says again, and drops back down onto the edge of the tub. I run my fingers through his hair as he pulls me to him and presses his head to my stomach. He just holds me like that for a long time, then when the bath fills, I remove my bra and panties, and he helps me in.
