I stroke her face with a gentleness I didn’t know I had in me. “It’s just a dream, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
It takes minutes—long, dragging minutes—before her eyes flutter open.
She blinks a few times. Her pupils are blown wide, and her breath hitches like she’s surfacing from deep water.
“T-Todd?” Her voice is shaky but at least she recognizes me.
Relief washes through me. “Yeah, baby. I’m here. So is Colton.”
She swallows. “Colton?”
“Yeah.” His voice is rougher than usual. “You’re here with us.”
She releases a long breath accompanied by a full-body shudder. “Thank God.”
Then, to my utter disbelief, she exhales, lets her eyelids drop—and falls right back to sleep.
I glance at Colton who looks as dumbfounded as I feel.
“I’ll be damned,” I murmur.
Colton breathes out and drags a hand over his face. “What do we do now?”
“Get some sleep.” I climb back into bed and flick off the light. “But tomorrow, our little stray is going to talk. I want to know what happened on the trail. And I want to know what her nightmares are about.”
Colton stays quiet for long moments, before he whispers, “Yeah. Me, too.”
The room settles again, and the only sound is our breathing.
I let my body sink into the mattress and sync my inhalations with hers.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, she talks.
* * *
Colton
Darkness wraps around us, as the room is quiet once again.
When I bought the family XL bed, I didn’t expect to share it with two other people, but now I’m glad I went for opulent.
Against me, Savannah is warm, her body soft where mine is hard, and small where I am large.
To have her and Todd with me in my room feels unfamiliar but… right at the same time. My little brother is onto something with his ménage à trois idea.
I keep still, my breathing slow and measured to match the others’ rhythm.
Todd and I work well together. Of course, we always have—on the boat and in life in general. We anticipate each other’s moves, never need many words, and our skills and personalities are complementary to each other’s. But I didn’t expect that unspoken rhythm to carry over into handling a woman.
Yet here we are.
Diana and her men make it work. Elliot, Jack, and Mason—they aren’t brothers, and hell, I remember a time when Jack and Mason couldn’t stand each other. If they can figure it out, maybe we can, too.
But I don’t want to think about them. I need to focus on us.
Or maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.Isthere an us? Maybe Savannah isn’t interested in us—especially in me.