Page 77 of Craving Consequences

I’m shot a side eye that’s a mix of amusement andwhat the fuck is wrong with you?That I meet with a grin.

“Tacos or burgers?” Lachlan turns back to the road and the cluster of roadside joints built along the highway, usually for truckers and families on vacation.

“You want us shitting in your backseat?” I ask conversationally.

“The tacos aren’t that bad,” he mumbles then adds more quietly. “But maybe we stick to burgers.”

It’s as we’re turning into the first drive-thru that Everly lifts her head, eyelids heavy with sleep. She wiggles in her seat and squints at the approaching building.

“It’s really busy,” she croaks, voice raspy.

I glance out at the sprawling ocean of concrete overrun with miles of shiny metal. Families move between the caravans of trucks and cars. Every spot available is filled.

“Crap,” Lachlan mutters, seeing the problem as I do. “We’ll grab our food and find another place to eat it.”

“I know a place,” Everly whispers. “If you don’t mind driving out a little.”

I don’t think she realizes yet that we’d drive to the moon if she asked. But neither of us say as much as Lachlan places our orders. The food is passed through the window in tidy brown bags, the scent of fries and grilled meat filling the cab. Lachlan passes the bags across to me and places the drink tray in Everly’s hands.

“Where to, sweetheart?”

Everly shifts and I can’t tell if it’s out of embarrassment or the discomfort of sitting in place for so long, but she picks at the corner of the tray and licks her lips.

“It’s where I used to go camping with my dad.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EVERLY

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The road turns to gravel about fifteen minutes outside of Mayfield only for it to become compact dirt, raised roots and jagged stones embedded into the earth. The narrow cut curves through a dense wall of brush, heavy and opaque in the settling afternoon. The untamed terrain tests every shock absorber Lachlan’s truck possesses, but the vehicle stays resolute.

“Are you sure this is the way?” Van leans forward to squint through the windshield.

“Positive. Dad used to bring me up here every chance we got. It was our little secret hideaway since before I could even walk.”

Van settles back. Lachlan says nothing, hand steady on the wheel.

I haven’t returned since my parents’ death. Didn’t think I could stomach it alone without Dad holding my hand. And I’m still not sure this is a good idea. I know Dad thought kindly of the two on either side of me, but would he have approved of my love for them?

Doubtful.

He’d tell me to smarten up. Caught between two men with kids my age, men he considered friends, would not sit well. Despite being kind and a wonderful father, he would get me checked for head injuries.

Mom would have been a different story. She would have immediately dragged me to see Reverend Elise. There would be no reason or conversation. Clearly, I’ve been possessed, and an exorcism would be required.

Maybe I am possessed. Maybe there is an imbalance in my brain chemical that makes me this way. Falling in love with two men who want me back like something out of one of my books is insane. It can’t possibly be real.

Yet, Lachlan has a possessive hand on my thigh. Fingers splayed as if to cover every inch of flesh. The middle digit moves in slow circles against my skin.

Van has a meaty arm slung across the back of my seat. His fingers comb through strands of my hair.

It all feels so natural. Normal. It feels like we’ve done this a million times. And maybe that’s the scariest part.

It doesn’t feel wrong.

It doesn’t feel shameful or confusing when I’m tucked between them like this. I don’t even know how this happened. When the line blurred. It was there and then it wasn’t, and here I sit with the two men I love most in the whole world trying to figure out how to let them go.

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