Gemini Page 2

  The pause was shorter this time, but still full of reluctance. “Bryce Grant Tomlinson.”

  “In what way is he connected?”

  She looked at him blankly.

  He probably didn’t even need her help. “Politics? Business? The mob?”

  She searched his eyes. “Why does it matter?”

  “I’d like to know what resources he has. Politics?”

  Not speaking, she nodded her head.

  “At what level?”

  “Party, for now. He’s being groomed for governor.”

  Shit. He’d prefer the damn mob. Even a boss wouldn’t care as much about a runaway wife as a freaking politician.

  “How’d you get here?”

  “I stole money from a woman’s purse. One of the cleaning staff.”

  She copped to that like it was a damn felony. He had to figure a generous part of her first paycheck would be in an envelope on its way back to that purse. Hell. He didn’t want to like this woman.

  “I took a bus as far as I could go. Then I hitchhiked.”

  Jesus. She was lucky she’d arrived in one piece. “How’d you get to the bus station?”

  “I took a city bus as far as the Light Rail. I changed trains twice before I went to the bus terminal.”

  He nodded, just a little impressed. She’d used a bit of sense, but hadn’t planned ahead enough to save up cash or open her own accounts. He touched her gently along that thumbprint bruise. “What brought this on?”

  “I miscarried for the third time two months ago. He wants a baby.”

  “So he raped you?”

  She took an unsteady breath. He could see the denial on her lips, but she didn’t seem to be able to lie to his face. “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Two nights ago.”

  “So you could be pregnant, and he knows it.”

  * * * *

  Yes. She could be, and, yes, Bryce knew it. Gemini didn’t much care for Clay, but he certainly had a way of identifying the ugly nuances of her situation—of her life.

  She’d heard stories of Quinn and Clay and Jace since Capricorn’s very first year at the Academy. She felt like she knew them. Quinn, built like an ox but with a good heart and gentle humor. Jace, with a bit of an edge, very lucky with the women, even if she’d had to read into Cap’s words. A hound-dog, he’d said.

  And Clay. Blunt and a bit rough. It appeared he, at least, hadn’t changed much.

  Just as she’d heard of them, she was sure they’d heard of her. She was sure—she was counting on it—that they would help her.

  Yes, she’d been an idiot. In a major way. She, of all women, should have known better.

  She was a nurse and a midwife. She’d studied women’s health—had a master’s degree. Many, many days in her life she’d counseled women whose partners were abusive.

  Domestic violence wasn’t limited to the poor and uneducated. She knew that. And still, she’d gotten caught in it with no more sense than a needy teenager.

  She’d met Bryce at a birth, of all things. The single women among her midwifery class had all agreed—their work was no way to meet men. Mostly, their days were filled with women—prenatal patients, women needing birth control or paps, soon-to-be mothers in labor. The men they ran into were mostly husbands and babies’ daddies. No prospects there.

  But soon out of school—in, literally, the first days on her new job—she’d attended the birth of Bryce’s little niece. It had been a lovely birth. Bryce’s sister had been determined to have a natural, unmedicated labor. She’d been remarkably, gracefully strong. Her husband had been sweetly, steadfastly encouraging.

  Two grandmothers-to-be had paced the halls, neither of them able to sit patiently in the waiting area. One was alone—Bryce’s mother. The other had been surrounded by family members—her husband, the baby’s uncles and aunt, small cousins all waiting for the newest addition to the family.

  It had been a sweet moment when the little girl finally came, nearly at midnight. Gemini had been included in the happy hugs. She was nearly out of the room, set to finish up her paperwork, when she was turned into one more person’s arm.

  It was Bryce, the late-comer, the one of the group who’d been too occupied to spend his day at the hospital waiting for the unpredictable outcome of a first labor.

  But he’d moved through the room like the politician he was—handsome, smiling, engaging in the extreme. He’d made eye-contact and used first names and—of course—kissed the baby. Gemini had one last hug from the paternal grandmother before she came up against Bryce’s chest.

  She’d thought little of it at the time. He’d flashed his smile and thanked her in dutiful sincerity. She had no glimmer of attraction, no awareness of any interest on his part. It had been a long day, many hours since her morning shower, and her scrubs, never very flattering, were far from fresh.

  But he called two weeks later, using her personal number.

  Just as Clay had said, he was charming, seductive.

  The red flags she could see in retrospect hadn’t even seemed like pink flags at the time. Within days of their first date, she’d had to bury her brother. Within two weeks, she and Bryce were married.

  He helped her through those horrible days of loss, when he hadn’t been obliged to. Because he wanted to, he said. Because he wanted her.

  She thought maybe she’d been blinded by grief. Or maybe he was just that good.

  Bryce no longer wanted much from her. He wasn’t asking for her love or respect. He just wanted her to play her part—the content wife with an interest in women’s issues, though nothing so gritty as a practicing midwife. And he wanted a baby. Specifically, he wanted a son.

  If she was carrying Bryce’s son, there was simply no way he would ever let her disappear from his life. She’d be bound to him forever, and he would never give up looking for her.

  She came here, tracking down Quinn Cavanaugh, because she was sure he would help her out. For Cap’s sake, he’d give her a job—a simple request, once she’d learned he was a tavern owner. She’d worked her way through graduate school tending bar.

  It hadn’t seemed like too much to ask.

  But she had another request, one that wasn’t simple, one that she really hadn’t wanted to make in front of two other men. Though, maybe…maybe that was for the best.

  Quinn could probably be convinced out of basic kindness. She was pretty sure Jace would be on board—he’d watched her with significant male interest while she’d waited for the bar to empty.

  But Clay—he’d be something different.

  That one interrupted her thoughts. “Are you done with him?”

  Gemini lifted her chin. “Bryce? Yes.”

  “Yeah, I know you are now. But what about when he finds you? What about when he shows up here with flowers and a little glitter in his pocket and a sad, needy look in his eye? An apology on his lips and promises that it will never happen again? Before Quinn lets you into his bar, before we let you into our lives, I want to know you’re all the way done.”

  She understood his point. He’d likely seen women take back the most dangerous of men, just as she had. She wouldn’t be one of them. “I’m all the way done.”

  “You’ll never look at us with tears in your eyes and beg us to understand?”

  “Never.”

  Clay looked less than impressed. “You’ll let the lawyer here work on a divorce for you?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  He looked her over, seeing more than she wanted. “What else is it you want, Gemini?”

  “You have a suspicious mind.”

  “What else do you want?”

  Gemini bit back a sigh. She looked at Jace and Clay, across the bar from her, and then at Quinn, who stood at her shoulder. “I want you to make love to me. Tonight. All of you.”

  Quinn drew in a surprised breath and took a step back. Clay nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, not surprised. And Jace looked at her with an interested brow
raised.

  “I’m in,” he said.

  Quinn reached across the bar to cuff him. “Cap’s sister, dude.”

  Jace shrugged one shoulder. “She asked.”

  “Gemini?” Quinn asked softly.

  “She wants plausible deniability,” Clay put in.

  Gemini kept silent while Quinn and Jace looked at Clay.

  He kept a grim eye on her while he spoke. “If she were to be pregnant, she wants to be able to claim the kid doesn’t belong to the prick she married.” He lifted his cynical eyes off her to make contact with the others. “She came gunning for you, Quinn. The two of us are just bonus.”

  Gemini sighed. Some of it was true. “Because of the bar,” she said, looking only at Quinn. “For a job. Because I have the experience. I can work for you and do a good job. It wouldn’t be just—charity.”

  She thought she heard Clay curse under his breath, but when she paused, he did nothing but continue that hard glare.

  “The other part I just thought of last night. Outside of Reno, I got a ride with a couple of stoners. They offered me more than just a lift. I turned them down but, later, I thought I should have done it. Then Bryce wouldn’t want me back. He’d never want a child who wasn’t his. And he couldn’t parade me around as his cherished, pregnant wife unless he was certain he was the father.

  “So then, I thought it could be you, Quinn. Cap—” She shuddered in a breath and let it out slowly. “Cap loved you.” She looked across the bar. “All of you. It seems crazy, I know. But I thought maybe it wouldn’t be too much to ask. I was going to ask Quinn. But, in a way, all three of you would be even better.”

  “You want to have our baby.” That was Jace, now seeming much less interested in the whole idea.

  “Not exactly, though I suppose it’s possible. I’ve miscarried three times. I’ve given up hoping for it. I just want to be able to tell Bryce it’s not his, if I do conceive. If I have. The timing would be too close to tell.”

  “She’s a nut job, guys.” Clay was apparently done holding his tongue. ”Quinn, you ought to toss her out of your bar right now. Whatever you do, don’t get on that crazy train with her.”

  Quinn’s green gaze was on her. He left it there a long time before he looked over to Clay. “You don’t see any sense in it?”

  Clay huffed out a breath but Jace spoke first. “I get it. I can see how it could work. Especially if she’s not really going to have a baby.”

  “Gemini,” Quinn said. “You can’t be asking for another miscarriage.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not.” God knew, she wasn’t. The first had hurt. Even as a midwife, even knowing how frequently pregnancies were lost, Gemini had been stunned and deeply wounded when it happened. The second one, too. More so, in a way, in that she had to think it was more than chance, worse than just bad luck. She had to consider then whether something was wrong with her, whether it might be impossible for her to ever have a child.

  The third time, she’d conceived against her will. The shine was off her relationship with Bryce. She didn’t want him. She didn’t want his child. And so the guilt which accompanied that miscarriage, mixed as it was with relief, was unbearable.

  She’d sworn it wouldn’t happen again. But Bryce had found her pills and taken them from her. She’d been isolated by then, just as Clay had said. She didn’t have a midwife friend she could go to for another method of birth control, but only the infertility specialist Bryce had chosen for her.

  She didn’t want another miscarriage. She didn’t want a pregnancy. But there was one thing she didn’t want the most.

  Bryce’s child.

  “I just…If I’m pregnant, I just want to have hope. I want to be able to think it might not be his. And I want to be able to say that to him.” She raised her eyes to Quinn’s. “That it’s not his.”

  Quinn scrubbed his hand over the whiskers on his face.

  * * * *

  He could totally do her. Jace had spotted Gemini the minute she’d walked into the bar. It had pleased him that she’d made eye contact a couple times while he’d watched from his bar stool, even though he could see her interest was mainly in Quinn. Then she’d stayed past closing, and, as Quinn had lowered the blinds at the windows, his mind had started up a nice little fantasy. Three randy men, one hot, loose woman, and a dark bar.

  Jace had gotten semi-serious with a woman a few months back—it had kind of seemed like the time for it. But it hadn’t worked out, and he’d pretty much lost his appetite for one-night stands with women who were pushing the edge of too drunk for legal consent.

  So it had been a couple months, and Gemini’s invitation had him hard from almost the first moment. He could see Quinn was interested in the girl, too, and Clay’s cynical—realistic, maybe, he had to admit—outlook hadn’t really damped anything down all that much.

  Yeah, she was their buddy’s sister. But she’d asked. As a favor.

  “I’m willing to oblige.” He ignored Clay’s grunt of objection. “Set her up here on the bar, Quinn.”

  Quinn met his gaze for a minute, then turned to look at Gemini. With some sort of signal from her, he put his hands on her and hiked her up so she was seated on the bar. She touched her fingers to his shoulders, and leaned into it when Quinn took her mouth.

  “Jesus Christ,” Clay swore.

  Jace ignored him. That kiss was hot, and he was going to get in on it. He reached across, put his hands on her hips, and tugged her across the smooth wood of the bar top. When he spun her around to face him, he was tucked between her spread legs. He brought her closer, snugging against the V of her thighs.

  Her brown eyes were soft, her lips already wet and ripe from Quinn’s kiss. And she was ready for a little ride on the wild side, because she set her hands at the back of his neck. She met his gaze steadily as he drew her hard against him. He brought her off the bar and let her slide down his body until he could plant her ass on the edge of a stool. Then when he pressed against her, their parts lined up just right.

  It was a safe bet she’d had some unhappy sexual experiences with the toad she’d married, but that didn’t seem to be holding her back now. He had his palm low on her back, steadying her as he pressed his hard cock into her center. He held her there, rutting firmly into her, while she looked up at him. She held his gaze as he moved his other hand to her breast. He was drawn in, lowering his mouth toward hers while he searched out her nipple with his thumb.

  Her breath shuddered when he found it. He took a good hold, squeezing her pretty hard, and liked the way her eyes flared and she gave a little cry. He kept hold as he went for her mouth.

  God, she was hot. And sweet, sweet. She let him open her mouth, accepted his tongue. He practically snarled as he took her. He heard it when Clay cursed again and was aware that Quinn had come out from behind the bar and stood beside him.

  Other than that, he was all about this woman. He delved into her mouth, stroking deep. He worked her nipple, tugging it along with the rhythm he used as he rocked his cock against her.

  She was wickedly responsive, like a reluctant novice suddenly sprung from the nunnery. She arched, handing her breast right over to him and rubbing herself against his eager dick.

  He wouldn’t have held back, wouldn’t have stopped for anything. But Quinn nudged, shouldering his way in, and broke Jace’s mouth away from Gemini’s with a hand slid between them. He turned the girl’s head so she saw him. She looked dazed as her gaze went to his.

  Quinn looked harsh and needy. “Both of us, Gem?” he said. “Both of us?”

  “Yes,” she said, not hesitating in the least. She moved one hand from Jace’s neck to take hold of Quinn, too, and let him have her mouth.

  * * * *

  Gemini saw the heat in Quinn’s eyes as he bent to take her mouth. Her hand on his shoulder tugged, bringing him closer, faster.

  She should have been pushing him away. She should have raised her voice in objection. At the least, she should have used a bit of
caution, should have approached this proposed love-making with careful deliberation. With dispassion.

  That’s what she’d been thinking. Something like a sacrificial virgin, she’d lay herself back and let herself be taken. Let them—Jace, Quinn, Clay, if he were willing—rut into her. That was all she needed. Just their semen, deposited determinedly inside her body.

  She wasn’t expecting this. Nothing so hot and needy, sweaty and taking. Compelling.

  But Quinn had kissed her. He’d looked at her, then at each of his friends. Finally, he’d lifted her up onto the bar. She was above him then, just a bit given his height. He clasped her head in his hands, she put her hands on those broad, powerful shoulders, and they came together. She couldn’t really say he’d brought her to him, because she’d come. She’d gone to him all on her own power.

  She thought he’d meant it to be a gentle kiss. She thought he’d been taken by surprise just as she had.

  In just a flash, it wasn’t gentle or cautious or dispassionate. It was fiery hot, entirely consuming. She’d seen both the stunned surprise and the desperate need in his eyes when they’d separated, when Jace had taken hold of her and tugged her away.

  But he was back now, after an equally devouring kiss from Jace, and she wanted him.

  She wanted them both. Jace’s hands were like magic, bracing her against the thrust of his cock, working her nipple like he knew every hotwire nerve ending she had. Her body was hot and needy, wet and desperately wanting.

  She felt a wild desire, like had never happened to her before, like she’d come to think was never in the cards for her. But it was happening, and she was going to give over to it, by God.

  Quinn kissed her long and deep. Then Jace took her back, holding her chin while he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Hands—Quinn’s, it must have been—worked open the front buttons of her sweater. Like they were telepathically connected, they both leaned back when the last button released.

  Each man took an edge of her sweater and pulled it aside, then stood back to take a good look.

  Intense interest on their faces testified to their approval.