RILEY

It had been absolutely insane since Thanksgiving. So much to do at the Inn, and time was running out. Construction was scheduled to start in mid-March. Just four weeks away! It wouldn't be an understatement to say John and I were losing our minds.

Now, combine all this with visits. John saw Darcy, twice. Isobel, and Nat. I, on the other hand was all over the place. Reno with Bud, Wounded Knee with Max. Taught Cort to ski in Vermont. Saw Doc in Catalina for a few days. And spent Groundhog Day with Terry in Punxutawney. Now, you'd think I'd be rested from all that. Or exhausted. But I wasn't. I was worried. Worried that John was going to be upset with me.

But he wasn't. Or at least he didn't act like he was. "It's the Game, baby. There are more Brothers than Sisters. It's fine. Besides, most of the work to be done right now, you can't do."

No matter, I was feeling enough guilt to find work. To at least show him it was my full intention to pull my weight. So Andy and I went whole hog. We set up menus, contracted purveyors, established credit. We shopped for small wears, all those little things we'd need in the kitchen. Pots, pans, spoons, hotel pans, knives. Everything. I became a maniac, making lists that were posted on the walls, fluttering in the wind every time someone walked by. For a while there, I was afraid John would start calling me Nash.

But I was on a roll. Crawling out of bed the moment he drifted off to work on things, running to New York every chance I got to check out equipment. And when we packed to head to California for Cort's Charity Auction, I had an entire suitcase full of work with me.

I worked on the plane, even thought all I wanted to do was sleep. Set up my little office in our suite at the Temple, and stayed there. Me and my computer. John had to come upstairs to get me for dinner.

"Dinner? What time is it? Who cooked?"

He leaned against the doorjamb. "Don't worry about who cooked. Just get your butt out of that chair and come down to eat."

I turned to close my notebooks, turn off the computer and the lamp.

"Now, Riley." A growl.

My heart skipped a beat. John had never spoken to me quit like that. Swallowing back that sour taste of fear, I grinned and turned to him. "Yesssss Sir!"

Thank God. He smiled.

What a treat, it was take-out Chinese and just the two of us. Until we were halfway through our little white boxes of food and East strolled in. With a wicked grin he dunked his fingers into my Shrimp Sesame. He plopped on the chair and winked, sauce dripping down his chin as he bit into the large, sweet shrimp. Licking his fingers his brows curled.

"Riley, you look like bloody hell, love. You feelin' alright?"

"I'm fine." I started to say, but John had to put in his two cents.

"She's fucking working like a crazy woman. Thinks sleep and food aren't necessary for survival, ay." He lifted a loaded fork to his mouth, not looking at me.

"I'm fine." I growled. "And you," I poked my chopsticks into John's chest. "You'll be happy I got all this stuff finished. This way, I won't be a crazy woman when we open."

He shrugged. "Something tells me she's gonna be a crazy woman anyway." East chuckled and left.

The next afternoon, as I rushed to pack everything John would need to wow those women biding on him, I opened the zipper to his tuxedo bag, looked inside and everything started to spin. Took several deep breaths, shook it off and turned to get my brush. That's when I hit the floor.

I woke to the sound of John's voice. "Jesus fucking Christ!" He was still dripping from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. He lifted me to the bed. "When are you gonna fucking learn?"

As he pressed a cool cloth to my brow, I was finally blinking myself back to reality, realizing what he'd said to me. "What?"

"What do you mean? What? Jesus. What's it gonna fucking take to get you to start taking care of yourself, Riley Biebe!"

John's face was red. And he was yelling at me. Actually yelling at me. I sat up.

"Stay down, God sakes!" he snapped then charged to my desk. He threw everything, and I mean everything, including my laptop into the suitcase and zipped it closed then tossed it into the closet. As if on cue, the door thudded shut. "That's it. You open that fucking suitcase again this weekend, and you and me, we're going three rounds, baby. Get my drift."

For a long moment we were silent, the kind of silent where you can hear each other breathe.

"Score," I squeaked.

John turned to the closet door. Shrugged. "Lousy goalie."

And suddenly, it was funny. So funny I couldn't help myself. I started to giggle so bad I had to pee. John lost his towel, laughing. He forgot to wrap it tighter after his tossing tantrum.

Ain't make-up sex grand?

***

We got to the beautiful San Francisco City Hall late, but it really didn't matter, John wasn't up till the third session. Darcy wasn't too happy about us strolling in an hour late; she was running around like a headless chicken, seeing to every possible detail.

She charged at us, took my arm and John's hand and dragged us to a bank of mirrors in a huge second floor office. "Got your clothes?" She snapped at John.

"Pepper, I ain't naked." His eyes twinkled, but cooled under her fire. "Yes, ma'am. Got everything. Relax, Darcy. I won't let you down."

She turned and winked at me then rushed off. I looked around. The Brother's looked calm, even a bit entertained by all the silliness. Not one of them thought they'd command more than a hundred dollars. They thought it was all kind of funny. Hando was sullen in the corner, but obviously telling Colin something funny, the giggle could be heard all the way across the room. John headed to the dressing room with his Tux. I sat down. I gotta admit the room was doing a little spinning. But I ignored it. Took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes for a minute.

"You okay, darlin'?"

Cort knelt at my feet, his warm hand trailing my faded denim covered thigh. Poor guy, looked worse than I felt. "I'm fine, Cort, just tired. How's everything going?"

"Hell if I know. Feel like I'm just along for the buckin' bronco ride. But the Brothers are doing pretty good. Lachlan got a whopping fifteen hundred bucks! Can you believe it?"

"Is that all?" I giggled then leaned down to his ear. "I'd have bid twice that for Lach."

"Yeah, I know you would, you sweet wanton." His smile brightened that beautiful face; he brushed a quick kiss on my cheek before standing. Sweet Cort. This charity auction meant so much to the shelter. He was obviously nervous, but at least he had the sense to let Darce do what she does best.

Dino strolled by, decked out in the most beautiful tie and tails I'd ever seen on a man. He grinned, pulled out a stack of 3x5 cards then headed for the stage area. I heard him get a rousing applause. He was only starting the second of three rounds as auctioneer. Must be doing a great job. Guess nobody could MC an event like this quite the way our own Rojo O'Leary could. But then again, how hard could it be? One man up for bid was as beautiful as the next. Even those who were not Brothers looked pretty damn good. I had to admit. Every one of them was a spectacular specimen. The night could only get better and the shelter should benefit greatly. I was thrilled that John and I were a part of the effort.

The Sisters were pretty well dressed; some to the teeth, dripping with bling bling. It hadn't even occurred to me to dress up for the event. Maybe rustic living had stunted my high society social growth. Oh well. As it was, I figured my part was over as soon as the auction ended. John's date was slated for that very night.

My heart literally skipped a beat when John walked out of the dressing room. The Armani tuxedo was a perfect fit over his broad shoulders; his hard belly was flat under the starched shirt. Even his feet looked magnificent in those shiny shoes. His hair was slicked back. Jesus, he was gorgeous and I beamed like a proud mama. He pulled a rolling chair close and smiled.

"Mind if I join you, pretty lady?" And he bent to sit.

"NO!" That was Darcy. "Jesus, John! You'll wrinkle! Don't sit whatever you do."

"How long till I'm up for the slaughter?"

She looked at her watch. "Less than an hour, you're right after the next break."

"God sakes, Darce, how many fucking breaks you planned?"

"Two. And don't gripe, Sweetness. The bar is making a killing and the drunker these women get, the more they'll bid for you." She kissed his cheek. "Do not sit down!" And she rushed away to her staging position near the stairs.

John shrugged out of the beautiful black jacket, draped it carefully over the back of his chair. "Riles, is she saying they need to be snookered to bid on me?"

"Of course not. The booze was donated, so it's all going to the shelter. Oh, Jesus, John!"

He'd slid out of his slacks, was folding them along the crease and carefully laying them over the jacket. "What? Won't wrinkle anything, ay?"

I laughed. It wasn't that John was pant-less. It was that he was wearing his favorite Pittsburgh Penguins boxers. He opened his hands, bobbed his brows.

"What do you think, Riles? Maybe the tux is overkill. Might get more like this?" And he did a full turn.

"Jesus, Hockey Puck. Put your fucking pants on. You're gonna make me lose my lunch." Bud grumped as he walked past.

"Hey," John shouted as he plopped on the chair. "You wouldn't be griping if I had Steelers logos all over my ass."

Bud turned with a scowl, shrugged. "Maybe."

The time went quickly. Sooner than I thought, John was redressing. I straightened his bow tie, ran my hands lovingly along his shoulders and smiled up into his eyes. "You're gonna kill them, John."

"Think so? All I want is to beat fifteen hundred." A wicked grin crawled across his face then he bent to kiss me. "I love you, baby," he whispered. "You're not worried about this, are you?"

"Worried?" I kissed him soft, sucked his bottom lip. "John. I trust you. Trust you with my life, baby. Now, go get 'em."

I followed him to the edge of the elegant stair, took a sneak peek down. My God, the lobby was packed. And those women didn't look like they were out to pinch pennies either. My eye fell immediately on a gorgeous red head, standing two thirds of the way back. She was calm, still. Absolutely radiant. Well, they were all beautiful. That's what money buys in California.

As Dino announced John, I slapped his ass and cheered along with the audience. He looked back at me with a grin and a wink then trotted down the stairs. I stepped back behind the others, hiding my rather casual clothing. Once I was even mistaken as one of the lighting people. Jesus, maybe I should have dressed up.

"Our Mr. John Biebe is an ex-hockey player who originally hails from Charlesbourg, Canada, ay." Dino said smoothly. "Yes, ladies, this man has got all the moves, especially on the ice. But word has it that John loves a little water play as well. No, I'm not talking sweet moonlight strolls on the beach. I'm talking in the shower, the hot tub and there have been rumors about a pond near his home in Vermont." He waited for the laughter to quiet.

John shot a glare at Dino.

"The lucky lady who wins a date with John, leaves with him immediately by limo for the famous Cityscape on the 46th floor of the landmark Hilton San Francisco and Towers in the heart of Union Square for dinner and dancing. Sounds like a wonderful evening. Ladies shall we start the bidding at two hundred?"

And it began. John looked a little uncomfortable as the bidding climbed past five hundred. Then a battle started. Two women were edging each other, pushing the figure up in hundred dollar increments. When it reached twelve hundred, Dino raised his gavel.

"Do I hear thirteen hundred?" Silence. "That's twelve hundred going once. Going twice - "

"Fifteen thousand dollars."

My head popped around the bend. It was the red head. She was smiling. The room went silent. All I could see was John's back, but I could just imagine his mouth drop.

Dino slammed the gavel. "Sold. One ex-hockey player for fifteen thousand dollars. Miss, you just bought yourself an evening with a great slice of Canadian bacon, and did one hell of a good thing for the Good Shepherd Shelter. Thank you, thank you very much."

John looked stunned when he came back up the stairs. I could hardly get near him; everyone was slapping him on the back and congratulating him. Then he just headed for the restroom.

"Well, guess you're gonna be following him tonight," Darcy said into my ear.

"No, why would I follow him?"

"Did you see her? Jesus, Riles."

"No, no, no. I trust John. God, Darcy. We're talking about John Biebe here." I grinned, but she kept shaking her head.

"I'm following Bud. No way I'm not keeping an eye on him and that Lynn clone."

"Well, good. Enjoy yourself. But I plan to go back to the Temple and get some sleep before I drop over."

"I'm following Hand," Mere chimed in. "Ah, come on, Riles. It'll be fun."

I laughed. "No thanks."

When John came out of the men's room, the limo was already waiting outside. He seemed pale and really distracted. I smoothed back his slicked hair. "I knew you'd do great," I smiled.

"Yeah," he said, as he looked in the mirror, straightened his tie, stood erect and checked himself for flaws. Of course, there were none. "Limo here?"

"Yup, you're all set. I'll be waiting in bed for you, Canadian Bacon."

His eyes shot to mine, slowly softened. Then he took me in his arms, kissed me hard and fast. "Love you, Riles."

And he left.

Huh.

***

I took my time getting all our things together. Waited for the final announcement. The auction was a tremendous success! As I turned the bend, looking for Darce to say my good nights, I heard voices. Stopped. Listened.

It was Lachlan and East. They were talking quietly and I never would have eves dropped if they hadn't said John's name. This is what I heard, exactly what I heard, even over the sound of my heart pounding and blood blasting in my ears.

"Did ya fuckin' see that?" Lach said. "Biebe's in for a ripper of a night."

"Jesus, that fuckin' sheila will never let up, will she?" East groaned. "Why can't I find one like that, mate?"

"Like you'd want that."

"What's not to want? Beautiful, rich. And from what Biebe used to tell, a fuckin' dynamo between the sheets."

"Yeah, and she drove him bonkers, mate. Don't ya remember? Wouldn't let up. Never a peaceful moment. Fuck. Riley's gonna have a rough time with this."

"Of whom are we speaking, Brothers?" That was Jack's booming voice, and they tried to quiet him with a loud shhhh. My knees were weakening, but I needed to hear all of it.

"The red," East said.

"Aw, that glorious beauty who bid the large purse for Brother John. What a magnificent morsel."

"Yeah, mate, more like a morsel of rat poison," Lach snorted.

"Do you know that lovely lady?"

"Yeah, Biebe and LizBeth Compton had a thing. Two years ago. Hot, mate. Really hot."

"Really?" Jack mused. "And Miss Elizabeth - "

"LizBeth," they both corrected sarcastically.

"Yes. Brother John and Miss LizBeth were lovers at one time?"

They must have nodded, 'cause I swear I could hear marbles clacking.

"What, pray tell, ended the relationship?"

"John got a Number One."

"Ahh," Jack was saying as I ran past them, searching desperately for Darcy.

I was almost out of breath when I caught up with Mere. "Where's Darce?" I gasped. Mere pointed and waved Darcy near.

"What's up?" Darcy looked into my eyes. "Still not gonna follow John?"

"Oh," I gasped. "I'm going. Believe me, I'm going. But I can't go like this."

They eyed each other, then me. Darcy has probably seven inches on me, but Meredith is very near my height and size. She was wearing a pretty, blue wrap-around dress and high spike heels. I could see the wheels turning in their heads.

"Mere, can you handle this? I gotta run. Have a date of my own, ya know."

Meredith giggled. "Yeah I got this, have a good time."

"Hey," Darcy looked into my terrified eyes, took my shoulders in her hands. "Riley," she said softly. "This is John Biebe we're talking about. Hon, you got nothing to worry about."

I nodded. Jesus, if only she knew. "Bye," I said as she rushed off into the crowd.

Mere dragged me to the lady's room and did my make-up. Stripped me of my jeans, which unfortunately looked like denim capris on her. Wrapped the blue dress around me then grinned. "Be right back!"

"Hurry," I cried as she disappeared out the door.

Seconds later she returned, shaking what looked like a long haired puppy. "Here ya go." And she slid a silky blonde wig over my hair.

"Where did you find this?" I gasped, gawking at myself in the mirror, unsure if I liked the look or not.

"You know me, I always have something in my purse for every situation."

"Even more hair?"

Mere brushed the long golden wig until it was smooth and sleek. "But the lipstick is all wrong." She reached with a tissue to wipe my mouth.

"Enough!" I stood. "What does it matter what color the lipstick is?" I grabbed the blue sequin evening bag and turned to leave.

"Hey, Riles! Have fun tonight."

I left before she could see me cry and tie me down to redo my makeup again.

JOHN

Fuck. I think I was in shock. But why was I so fucking surprised? Jesus. LizBeth. Took me twenty minutes to get a fucking grip on it all. Well, she may have had a plan but I'd decided on something too.

See, what I really wanted to do was renig on the deal. Give the shelter fifteen grand and just go home with Riles. Mother fucker Dino didn't help. Announcing I live in Vermont. The last thing I need was that woman booking a room indefinitely at the Inn. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! "Shit!"

But I had to look on the bright side. At least Riley didn't know about LizBeth. And thank fucking God she trusts me, 'cause I'd made a plan of my own. Time to put her majesty, Ms. LizBeth Annalinda Compton in her place, once and for all.

Yeah, yeah. I probably should have spent more time with my Number One. Probably should have told her what I was up to, what LizBeth was up to. But at that point, I had only one thing on my mind. To get this fucking thing over with. For good.

"Be cool, Biebe. Be fucking cool," I grumbled as I went out to the limo. There she was. Man, my heart jumped. She's so damn beautiful. Who would ever guess at the monster behind that pretty face? I smiled. Let her kiss my cheek. "Hey, LizBeth."

Her eyes twinkled, and I watched her terrific ass as she climbed into the car. Sat not too far from her. Really needed to get my plan in play. Decided the right moves, where to check and when to hook. LizBeth is a hell of an opponent. Sharp player. I had to be just as sharp.

Her fucking hand went right for the goods. I simply slid it away. "So," I said, not looking at her. "Whacha been up to, sweetheart?"

"Looking for you, baby."

I glared at her. "Really? What the hell for?"

Even that didn't take her off her game. "For everything, sweet John. Need that mouth, you know where. Nobody does it like you, baby. Nobody."

"Now, now, Lizzybelle." Hell, I knew that would start her fire, she hates when I call her that. "You must not be looking too hard for it. As I recall, I never quite did it right, did I, ay?"

"Ah, John. Let's not do this. Give me a chance, Sweetness." God sakes, I cringed, hearing her voice call me that. "I just want one more chance. I've changed."

"Have you now." And that was it. Not another word passed between us until we were seated at the table.

Now, we were in public, and I really needed to be careful. Where LizBeth Compton dines, there are always photographers and gossips. I'm not the best at holding my temper. But I'd made a vow to myself that I'd do it if it killed me that night. State my case, and walk away from her forever.

What the fuck did this woman have on me anyway? Gotta confess, with two years distance, I really couldn't see it anymore. She had me under a goddamn spell. Could never, and I mean never please this woman. Nothing I did was right or correct or quite appropriate. She'd even give her climaxes a score. Fuck, no matter how hard I tried, what I did, I couldn't make the fucking grade. And believe me, she never once let me forget it. We ordered dinner, passed the menus to the waiter and sipped wine.

"What the fuck do you want, LizBeth?"

"I told you. I want you back." She was smiling; making sure whoever was watching would think we were having a pleasant conversation. "Apparently, the woman you left me for didn't work out. Otherwise you wouldn't be selling yourself on the auction block like a slave, baby."

"Lizzybelle, I'm not alone." I grinned and turned the wine glass on the tablecloth, wishing I could just walk the fuck out.

"Really? And how does your . . . lover . . . feel about you pimping yourself out tonight?"

The appetizers arrived, I picked at my plate, fighting a funny pulling in my chest. I glanced around, figured a Sister was somewhere nearby. A few of them bid at the auction. "Most women don't do the things you do, Lizzybelle - "

"Stop calling me that, John," she said smoothly. "You know how that makes me feel."

"Yeah, I know."

"And don't say yeah . . . um . . . Jesus, I'm sorry darling. I didn't mean to say that."

"So you've changed, have you? Why don't you tell me how? 'Cause see, I haven't and I don't intend to."

"Well John," she sighed, shifted gears. "Whoever you're with now, certainly knows how to dress you. I must say, you look marvelous tonight."

She was fishing for a return compliment. She wasn't getting it. "It's a rented tux." I forked salmon, raised it to my mouth. "This isn't gonna work, sweetheart," I said bitterly.

"Why?" she batted her beautiful blue eyes. "Tell me why, John. I am really destroyed by this. I've been searching for you for two years. All I want is a chance."

I set my fork down. "It's too late. It was never going to work, LizBeth. Never." I set my napkin on the table. "The evening is over, sweetheart. I'm sorry." I stood.

She smiled sweetly, glanced around the room and stood with an elegant rise. Permitted me to drape her silk wrap over her bare shoulders and led me out of the restaurant.

I stood at the limo with her. She reached for me, put her arms around my neck and kissed. Jesus, it felt like a cold fish. What the hell did I ever see in that woman?

Suddenly I felt it again. The pull. Strong, really strong. I turned, looked around. There she was, walking toward me. In a fucking blonde wig. Fuck, I prayed. Just don't say a word, Riles. Please, Jesus, don't say a word. But she did.

"John, what are you doing?"

My eyes squeezed shut. LizBeth turned, eyed Riley then buried her lips near my ear. "Looks to me like all women are alike, John. At least my hair is real," she chuckled and slid into the limo.

I turned on Riley. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I dragged the wig from her head. "Jesus fucking Christ! What happened to 'I trust you, trust you with my life'?" I was so fucking pissed I was yelling. Caught my words in my throat for a second, worried about how she'd react. Man, did she surprise me.

"Well, I thought I could! LizBeth Compton? What the hell were you hiding from me, John?"

"So you fucking followed me?" I shook my head, flame shooting out of my eyes at her. "I thought you were better than that, baby. Really thought you were better than that. Fuck!"

And I did the stupidest thing you can imagine. I climbed into the limo and slammed the door on Riley.

LizBeth tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the window behind the chauffeur and the limo pulled away. I didn't even look back. Jesus, I could have killed Riles. If she'd have just waited one more minute, it would have all worked out perfectly. But she didn't. Couldn't. Really didn't trust me after all. No different than the bitch sitting beside me. Exactly the same. Following, checking, demanding answers. Fuck it all to hell. I pounded on the window till the driver stopped the limo. Climbed out and walked away.

RILEY

The bottom fell out, dropped like a broken elevator with a resounding crash. I stood on the street, wondering what just happened. What I did that was so wrong. What to do next. My insides were shaking. I closed my eyes. Where did I want to go? Who did I need?

I hailed a cab and went the only place I knew I could go. I went to my best friend. I climbed the stairs to the third floor of the Victorian house at the top of a steep hill. Tapped on Lachlan's door. No answer. Then I started to cry, leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. I sobbed there till I fell asleep. Until Lachlan touched my shoulder in the cold morning light streaming into the hall window.

"Bloody hell! What are ya doin' here, love?"

"I need to talk to you, Lach." I tried to stand. Tried again. I couldn't. My knees kept giving out under me.

"Come, love." He unlocked the door and carried me. "Let's get ya inside and warm. How long ya been out there?"

"Never mind about that. I really need to talk to you."

Lach sat me on the bed and went into the bathroom and started the tub. He pulled sweat pants and a long sleeve tee shirt from a drawer. "Not till we take care of ya. When did ya eat last?"

He wasn't looking at me. He was avoiding this, I could feel it. I stood from the edge of the bed, wobbled a bit and reached out to his arm. "Stop this, Lachlan."

His eyes darted to the window, the ceiling, everywhere but to mine. A groan escaped his chest. "Listen, love. Ya look like hell. I can tell you're upset, tired, probably mad as hell about somethin' but - "

"I heard you, Lach. I heard you and East talk about them. Tell me about her. Tell me about LizBeth Compton." I stood strong, but hell, I wasn't. Had to hold onto his arm to support myself.

He huffed and pulled off my dress, stripped me and stood me in the tub. I was fighting, trying to get out. "Sit!" He shouted, pointing at the water. "You fuckin' relax, then ya eat, then we'll talk!" And he turned, stomping out of the bathroom, head shaking, mumbling, "Bloody hell."

Mad? Is that what I was? I would have described it as more than that, much more. John walked away from me. Got into the limo with that woman. Left. What's more than mad? I was searching for a word that wouldn't crack my heart in two. I focused on other things. The colors of Lachlan's bathroom. Taupe and tan, earthy green. The hot water began to work its magic. My muscles relaxed. And for a moment, I actually thought I had no more tears to shed over it all.

John had left me. I always knew it was too good to be true.

I climbed out of the water and unconsciously dried myself on the thick towel. I pulled on the grey sweat pants, rolled the waistband over and over, rolled the legs up at the ankles. Tugged on the tee shirt, carefully folding the long sleeves up to my wrists as if it was absolutely vital to do it right. Perfect. I went into the bedroom and sat on the cushioned window seat, gazed out at the foggy Bay Bridge, its points proud and glowing above the morning mist. Disembodied from the earth. That's how I felt.

Lachlan walked in and set a plate of food on the dresser, his eyes on me. Oh yeah, now he looks at me. I turned to the window, watched the mist dissipate.

"Here, love." He sat near me in the bench, handed me a lit cigarette. "Will ya try to eat?"

I shook my head, leaned it back against the glass of the bay window. I felt empty. Like I had no more words, nothing to say.

"What are ya doin' here, Riley?"

I shrugged. "I came to my friend."

"Why?"

I turned a glare at him. "Tell me about her."

His head shook slowly. "No, mate. That's for John to tell ya. Not me. Listen, love." He slid closer, ran a hand down my arm, squeezed and sighed. "Why don't ya go home to him. Talk with him about this, darlin', it's the only - "

"He's not there."

"What do ya mean, he's not there? He's not at the Temple? Where the hell is he?"

Tears. More fucking tears. I shook my head. "I don't know."

"What happened?" He took me into his arms. "Tell me everything, love."

LACHLAN

Fuck. I love Riley. But I had to admit, if there was anything she could have done to make things worse, she'd bloody done it. Followed him. Confronted him in front of the dragon lady. And came, of all places, to me. Me. Now how the hell was that gonna make things better, then? Was she thinking at all?

I couldn't get her to eat. Couldn't get her off the fuckin' window seat. Watched her for more than twenty four hours like that. Thought I'd go bonkers.

Called John's cell a hundred times. He had it off or was just not answerin' cause he knew it was me. Bloody caller I.D. Got Doc at the Temple, though. Put him on Biebe watch. Figured the quieter we kept this thing the better for us all.

When John didn't show up at the Temple by the next morning, I had no choice. Rang up Dino.

"What! Fuck, it's five in the morning!" Then I heard the low moan of a woman.

"Sorry, mate. Got a dilemma here. Need your help."

"Yeah? What?" He was alert, always ready to jump to action. But would he keep his mouth shut? I had to take the chance.

"Dino, Biebe's missing." I was out in the hall, talking as quiet as I could.

I heard him shuffle in the bed. "What? You have got to be fucking kidding. When?"

"Since Friday night."

"Fuuuuck. Rich Bitch Compton?"

I was silent.

"Where's Riley?"

"Here, with me."

"Nice move, flyboy. Ya know when we find him he's gonna kill you, don't you."

"That's if she doesn't kill him first. Can ya locate him? Quick?"

"Catch ya in a few." And the phone went dead.

Less than twenty minutes later, I had everything I needed. Dino guaranteed to keep it under raps. A Brother with a Number One fuckin' around? Way past breaking' the rules, mate. Hell, we all know the trouble this could make. Doc was on his way to my place to keep an eye on Riley, and I was heading into the storm. Flying low, right into the bullets, tryin' to figure out how the hell I got into the middle of it all. When I'd signed up for this bloody mission.

Hell, who was I kiddin'? I'd have crawled into it somehow. Been in the middle of it since the day she crossed. Did everything I could to get those two together. Wasn't 'bout to see it all crumble for them. But my fuckin' mouth. Someday I'm gonna learn to keep my bloody mouth shut. Pretty much my fault then, wasn't it? But fuckin' Biebe should have told her, right? Right. Righto, he shoulda.

***

What the hell? Did he look for the seediest hotel in town? I walked up three flights and stood at the door. Took my fist and fuckin' pounded. Pounded hard too.

The door swung opened. I leaned on the doorjamb. He looked worse than Riley. Still in the tux, shirt tails out, a half empty whiskey bottle in his hand. Stinkin' to the rafters. And pissed.

"Tell me you're fuckin' alone," I growled.

"Course I'm fucking alone, and I ain't fucking ready to talk to her. Not yet." He slurred, turned and walked away.

I followed. "That's good, mate. 'Cause I'm not sure she'll ever talk to you again."

He swung a glare at me that almost made me piss myself.

"Then, what the fuck do you want, Lach?"

I shrugged, looked around the room. "Not sure, mate. Thought I'd check on ya. See what the bloody hell you're doing. Why you'd fuck up the best thing ya ever had."

"Fuck you, Lachlan. Get the fuck outa here."

I slouched on the sofa, looked up at him. "Ain't happenin' mate. This is a curiosity. Ya act like this is just fine. Like you haven't done a damn thing wrong. Like you got no flaws, mate. Like it's alright to do whatever ya want and fuck it up for all of us."

Another glare.

"Trust me, mate. Ya got flaws. Lots of 'em. We all do. Face it. This isn't the solution."

"Fuck you!"

Alright. I could do it. Right? For a good cause, and all. "Let's do a bit of exploration, shall we? Get jealous sometime, mate?"

Biebe shocked the hell outa me, lit a fag and dragged deep. "Jealous?" He grunted, paced. "Tell me why the hell I should get jealous? 'Cause she's with every fucking Brother? Going off every time I turn around? No. I don't get jealous." And with the fastest swing I ever saw, his fist buried into the plaster wall, almost to his wrist with a crunch they had to hear down the hall.

I reached him in two steps, pressed my shoulder against his till he backed from the wall. There were three fuckin' gaping holes there already. "Hey, mate! Hey!"

He stepped back, took a drag on the fag, crushed it out and drank from the bottle.

"Looks to me like you two don't communicate," I said real calm.

"What the fuck are you talking about, you letter-writing Aussie fucker?"

My mind was spinnin', thinking he was gonna kill me that day for sure. Ya hear about the General, about that new Brother comin' soon, the boxer, but I can tell ya, mate. Biebe ain't someone to fuck around with. But I kept at it. "Don't reckon you ever told her it makes ya bonkers that she sees so many Brothers."

"I told you to get the fuck out!" He knocked me to the floor and swung his foot. I just rolled quick enough to get outa the way.

"So, ya didn't tell her? How's she gonna know?"

"Right. Just tell her no. That's gonna work." He thumped into a chair, almost fell off. "It's the Game, man." He rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

I stood and looked down at him, actually felt bad for the bloke. "Yeah, the Game you love, mate. So what's with the bloody jealousy?"

"It ain't just that . . . she . . . she fucking lied to me. Trusts me, my ass."

"Ah, so now we're on to another subject, are we then? You are one confusing bloke, I'll give ya that. What the fuck are ya doin'? Have ya left her? 'Cause that's what she thinks."

He didn't look at me. Didn't say a word. Jesus, he was thinking about it. I could tell he was. Time to bring out the big guns. "So," I said smooth as a snake's skin. "Reckon it's my shot, then. Now I can just move in and take her from you, easy as pie, mate. Ta."

John Biebe is so fuckin' fast; I swear I never had a chance. Even drunk, in less than a blink of an eye he had me pinned against the battered wall, pounding me with his fist. "Yeah, go on, mate. I see how it is." I grunted between trying to block his punches and getting in a few in myself. Got a good clip at his eye. Dumped him to the carpet and dropped down at him, held him there. "It's bonzer for you to get jealous, but none of that for your woman, then. I see."

He was relentless! Had me up against the bloody wall again. Really pummeling me till I thought I'd lose the round. "What the fuck, is she supposed to never get jealous? She a saint?" I gasped. It took a few more slams into my ribs, but it finally sunk in. He backed off and I slid to the floor, blood all over my shirt, didn't wanna even think about where it was comin' from. Couldn't see outa my left eye though. "I get it." I gasped. "Into fair play, are ya?"

He staggered, tumbled to the floor, sittin' across from me, mouth opened like this idea never once occurred to him. Like he was the only one feelin' jealous in the whole world.

"Bloody hell, John. Do ya really think Riley's anything like that bitch? Couldn't you tell she was just afraid of losing ya? Maybe even a bit jealous?"

His head shook. "Fuck."

"Give it a think, John. Riley may be an angel, but she ain't a saint. She's human, and she's hurtin'."

"Fuck," he groaned, his head in his hands.

Took another few hours to sneak him into the Temple and get him cleaned up. Three bloody pots of coffee before he stopped slurrin' his words. And even after I closed and locked the door behind him and Riley, I gotta confess, only God knew what would come of it all. Doc and I looked at each other and settled in for a long wait.

RILEY

I couldn't believe it. John walked into the room and set down our luggage. He was dressed in his traveling clothes; jeans, a white tee shirt and his favorite dark blue blazer. He shook back his hair. Those blue eyes were black and blue and blood shot.

"I, ah, brought our stuff." He turned a glance at the locked door. "When they let us outa here, we're going home, baby."

I stood. I swear I was seeing fire. I was shaking, my fists were tight. Just like that? He thinks I'm going to go home with him just like that? I took a few steps closer.

"Where were you?" I demanded.

He didn't answer, didn't say a single word.

I took another step; I could feel my blood heating, my cheeks blazing with anger. He just watched me. Waited.

"Did you sleep with her?"

His head tilted slightly, eyes blinked once. What the fuck? Am I supposed to be a mind reader now? My fury completely took over. I swung my hand as hard as I could, cracking it across his face with a force that burned my palm. He rocked back slightly but stood his ground.

I was breathing hard. Let out a yell and swung again. Caught him hard near his mouth, blood slowly trickled down his chin. And still, he stood there. Watching. Waiting.

"Say something!" I screamed.

"Are you finished?" He asked, calmly wiping his fingers across the blood.

"You bastard." I glared up at him. "Fuck. My ex-husband would do everything he could to break me. Everything, until the only thing left was to beat me. But you know what, John?" I was hissing at him. "He never did it. Never broke me. Not completely."

I paced in front of him, my eyes never leaving his, locked in battle. "But you. You! John, you can break me with less. With a word. You can destroy me with words like 'I really thought you were better than that.' What's that mean, John?" Man, I was yelling at the top of my lungs, out of control, but God bless me, I wasn't crying. "Just what the fuck does that mean? That I'll never be good enough?"

I swung to slap him again, but this time he gripped my wrist, wouldn't release it, holding tight.

"That's power, John. To tell someone they'll never be good enough. That, from you, can break me forever. But, John Biebe. I will never give you that power!" I struggled to free my wrist.

"Then don't. Don't ever give anyone that power, Riles."

I ripped my wrist free and stared at him, jumped at him, pounded my fists against his chest till I was sobbing, falling into his embrace. "Go ahead, baby. Get it all out."

I pushed against him, "No, John. You're not doing this! This isn't about me, goddammit!"

"You're right, Riley. It's about both of us. We got a lot to talk about." He struggled to hold me close, calm me. "We gotta talk about lies. About secrets. We gotta talk about the past and we gotta start to communicate, baby." He was cuddling me close, his mouth in my neck. "Riles, we gotta start to communicate, and I'm as guilty of avoiding that as you are."

He carried me to the bed and I scurried away from him, sat crossed legged at the head. I was panting, wiping tears away, trying to be tough. He sat at the other end of the mattress, watched me, his eyes soft. "Baby, talk to me."

I took a deep breath, reached for my cigarettes and lit. Tossed the pack down and huffed, looking everywhere but at him. "Where were you John?" This time, I didn't yell. This time I really wanted to know.

He picked up the pack and lit his own cigarette. My brow shot up. Jesus. I'd never seen John smoke. Never once.

He cleared his throat, squared himself to me and sighed. "Riley, I was pissed. Really pissed -"

"At me?"

"Let me finish, baby," he shook back his hair. "Just pissed. I went to a hotel. Drank till I dropped, smoked a carton of Marlboro's. Put a few holes in the wall." His eyes shot to mine. I'm sure he could see the ripple of fear that soared across my face. "Riley, baby. This is a long story."

"Wait. Wait. First tell me. John, are we over?" My heart was breaking, and no matter how long or interesting his story was, I didn't want to hear it if we were through. I held my breath.

"No, baby. Never. Never." His face was soft; I could see a little fear in his eyes.

"Did you sleep with her?"

"No. I got out of the limo a few blocks away." He flicked his smoke in the ashtray he'd set between us.

"But, you kissed her. I saw it." I was getting upset again, wanting to hit him again. Wondering if he'd put a few holes in me if I tried. "You kissed her."

"Did I, Riley?"

"I saw . . ." and I thought. Blinked. Closed my eyes, remembered the kiss clearly, how my own terror of losing him infected what I was seeing. She reached up. She pressed her lips to his. John's arms never went around her. His head never leaned down to her lips. "Uh, I thought."

"Sweetheart, there's history there." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "I met LizBeth right after I came to this world. It was a tough time for me. I mean, everything I knew to be real, just wasn't. My family, my life. Gone. All gone. Then I come across this gorgeous woman. And she wants me. I thought I was in love with her. I mean, Jesus, it wasn't like I ever expected to have a Number One. And baby, I like marriage. Relationship. Having someone to love, to care about. It's who I am." He stubbed out his cigarette. "The relationship was hell, Riles. Pure fucking hell. She cheated all the time. I left her so many times, I lost count. And . . . baby . . . I'm sorry . . . I never, ever wanted you to know this . . . but I have one hell of a fucking temper." He swallowed hard, watched my face carefully.

"See, every time it would blow up, I'd leave. But LizBeth was relentless. Kept coming back, telling me she'd changed, and me, I'm a gullible fuck. I kept trying. Till one day, I kinda confessed about my temper. Explained that I wasn't going to ever hurt her, but if she kept doing the shit she was doing, fucking around like that, I'd be so far gone, she'd never find me again."

I was enthralled. Who was this man? What was he telling me? Was he right? Had we never once really communicated? I lit another cigarette, trying to be cool through it, but I was starting to shake from the inside out. Was he dangerous? Would he ever hit me? I had to stop my mind from screaming. I had to pay attention. To listen, to hear every word he was saying.

He groaned, rolled his neck. "After I told her, it kinda changed. Altered. I don't know." He was looking off into the distance, trying to define his thoughts; I could see it in his eyes. John wasn't even sure how to explain all this to me. "It became . . . a game . . . for her. Riley, she'd push me, just so far, then back off. Ease up. Stop following me, demanding answers. But," he shrugged. "It would always go from bad to worse and back again."

"Why did you stay?"

His eyes were sincere. Deep. "I don't know," he lit another cigarette. "Maybe it was better than being alone."

I didn't know what to say, how to react. So I asked the only question I could. The one on the tip of my tongue, tearing at my heart. "Did you ever hit her?" I whispered.

"No. No, never. Never, baby. And she'd push me. Fuck with my head. She never cheated again, but did everything else. Tell me shit. Like . . . like," he sighed a painful groan. "Like I'd never be good enough." When his eyes rose to me, they glowed with tears. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

I swallowed hard, pulled my knees tight to my chest, watched him. Just watched him. John. The man I love more than anything on earth. Needed more than air.

He cleared his throat. "Then, the whole world changed, baby. I got a Number One. Got into the Game. The real Game."

"And you never saw her again?"

"Never. But she never gave up. She had met Lach and East in a bar one night with me. She'd had a P.I. on my ass. Knew where I went to get away from her. She just strolled in. What was I supposed to do?

"Soon after that, I moved to New York. It was good. Real good. But every now and then I'd get a call from East or Lach. LizBeth was having them followed. Still looking for me. Jesus, Riles. For the life of me, I can't figure out why. God sakes, it was awful. Fucking awful. Why the hell couldn't she just let it go?" He watched his cigarette, shaking his head.

"Maybe," I said softly. His eyes rose to mine. "Maybe, she loves you. Can't bear to lose you. Knows what she had. What she lost. 'Cause," tears streamed down my face. "I know exactly how she must feel."

"Jesus," he moved across the bed to me, took me into his arms and I let him. "Shh, baby. You lost nothing. God sakes, it's me who almost lost everything. If it wasn't for your fucking flyboy letter-writing buddy, I might have really screwed everything up." His lips found mine, hot and soft, demanding. "Jesus, what I could have lost."

I slowly pushed him back, looked into his eyes. "John, tell me about your temper." My voice crackled like radio static.

He rubbed his bloodshot eyes, pulled me close. "Riley, sweetheart. I have never hit a woman, and God sakes, I will never hit you. Never. There was a time in my life that my temper served me well. Almost got me to the NHL. But after I got hurt, lost my shot, I had to learn how to redirect it. Control it. Having kids helped. Dealing with all the normal shit of life helps too. But I gotta tell you, what LizBeth did to me was the best. I'm thinking I had to go through that with her. I just had to."

"To deal with me? My past?"

"Maybe."

My heart thumped. Jesus. It was all so hard to swallow. "And I push you too, don't I?"

"Sometimes." His lips brushed my forehead. "Sometimes."

"How?"

He pulled me onto his lap, cuddled me close, and I thought it was a strange way to have that discussion. Oddly comforting and uncomfortable at once.

His fingers ran over my hair, down my back. "Baby, I have a hard time sometimes. I miss you when you're gone."

"And I'm gone too much." I swallowed hard. "But John, I always ask you. Always."

"I know, I know. But I can't, I won't tell you not to have a visit. Jesus, this Game, the way we live our lives. It's gotta go on. Or I'm history. Poof. We'll all be gone."

"But you always act like it's fine." I was confused, but not really confused at all. I could sense it escalating, his discomfort every time I left. I slithered off his lap, looked at him. "Who bothers you the most? Bud?"

"No."

"Terry? Colin?"

His head shook.

"Lachlan?"

He rolled his eyes, actually smiled. Shrugged.

"What do you want me to do, John? Tell me what to do."

"Nothing. Baby, play the Game. Love me. Come home to me, that's all. And . . ."

He stopped so fast, I gulped. "And what?"

"Tolerate me."

I huffed. "Tolerate you? John, what does that mean?"

"Let me be pissed. Trust me that it won't go too far. Understand that I," his big hand set on his heart. "I love you more than life. I get jealous. I get nuts, even irrational. But trust me."

"Can I get pissed?"

He chuckled a sad sound. "Sure."

"'Cause I'm getting tired of looking for ways to make it up to you. I always feel like I'm letting you down. Why didn't you ever tell me this?"

He reached for another cigarette that I took from his fingers.

"Tell you what? That sometimes ya make me so mad I wanna push through a wall? Why do you think I'm out there chopping wood all the time? Jesus," he chuckled. "We're almost out of forest, Riles."

Looking to his face, battered, his lip swollen, I couldn't help but smile back. "Are we gonna make it, John?"

"Oh yeah, baby. We're gonna make it."

I lit the cigarette, looked at it and stubbed it out. "We're starting all over, aren't we?"

His hand shot out. "Nice to meet you. I'm John, and I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on." I took his hand and he pulled me to his chest, held me close. "The most amazing woman I've ever known. And maybe it's a little too soon for this, but I am completely in love with you."

"Um," I teased through tears. "Maybe we should date first."

"Nah," he was tugging at Lachlan's long sleeve shirt, pulling it over my head. "You in there?"

We struggled to free me of the oversized garment and actually laughed. His eyes slid to my breasts then his mouth slowly lowered, pressing a kiss on my heart. "Do you love me, Riley?"

"Yes," I gasped as his mouth consumed my nipple. He pulled me flat onto the mattress, slid the huge sweat pants from me and just looked, his gaze moving from my head to feet. I reached for his face and kissed his lips. John's lips. I swear it felt like the first time I saw him. The moment I knew we belonged together. All new. All real. Solid.

John stood and took off his clothes, his eyes never leaving mine. "We're gonna make it, baby," he whispered, climbing over me, taking my hands in his and raising them far above my head. "We're gonna make it."

His mouth moved slowly from my forehead to my lips where he sucked soft kisses, mumbled and moaned. My heart was racing, wanting, sure and steady. "John, you must know that no Brother matches my love for you," I gasped between kisses.

"I wanna believe that, baby." His soft lips moved to my neck, to the sweet tattoo at my collar bone. "I need to believe that." His kisses trailed tenderly to my breasts. Lapping and sucking on a nipple, making my body tremble with his touch.

"What do you need, John?" I sighed. "Tell me what you need to believe me." My hands slid through his silky hair, feeling his pulse at his temples. The pulse of real love, solid life.

His face turned up at me, eyes so sincere I wanted to cry. "I need you to trust me, Riley."

"I trust you; trust you with my life, John. It was her I didn't trust."

He nodded sadly. "Baby, I should have told you. Should have told you everything."

I smiled, pushed his hair back tenderly. "You just did. Unless there's more"

"Nope. Well, there might be, but I'll give it to you in doses," he chuckled.

"You're scaring me." I giggled as he pressed his fingertips into my side. Slowly those fingers lightened, pressed a gentle massage that slid to my breasts, tightened over nipples, made me arch to him.

His mouth caressed and sucked at my belly, slithered to my mound and remained there for an eternity. His hands massaged it, his lips kissed and licked. He inhaled, groaned deliciously and I watched him. Wondering at his love. Wondering, why me? And suddenly, I realized that the jealousy I felt, the jealousy he feels is really fear. We'd both done our time in the not good enough hell. And I decided, at that moment, watching his mouth move to my sex, loving me so fully, so completely, that I was good enough. That John was better than good enough. That we together, are perfect. We live in a strange world, in this Game. It doesn't deter from that perfection, instead it emphasizes and expands the boundaries of it. It seemed like a window had opened, a fresh cool breeze had rushed in, cleared everything. And for the first time, I truly understood the Game. The life. The way John did.

We're human. We have tempers. Jealousy. Fear. But we are protected, encircled by the bond we chose. My growing orgasm battled with the jubilation of my new found reality. I drew in a deep breath, let my eyes drift closed and felt. Just felt. Totally safe in John's hands, in this world.

His tongue circled and teased my clit, his mouth sucked sensuously, tenderly until I could feel the heat growing. I relaxed, loosened every reserve, moved with the trigger milestones of my climax as it drew closer and closer. The trembling of my center, the blooming fire, the tingling sparks that shot to the very surface of my flesh. And I knew it was John, touching me, nurturing me, taking me someplace special.

His fingers slithered along his tongue, slid effortlessly into my path, circled and gentled the opening of my anus, pressed tenderly. Trust. What is trust except true love and acceptance? A willingness to permit anything. To wish only to please and be pleased. To find the singular center of our two lives.

The fire raged, and still I relax, released my power to demand its speed. The desperate need for instant gratification. I moaned, rolled my head as his fingers entered me, front and back, his mouth nursed at my swollen, wanting clit. My chest heaved, my hands grasped at the sheets. And still, I relaxed. Waited for the ultimate moment. Waited for the gift John was offering. Gave it time to fertilize, sprout and bloom.

His voiced groaned against my tender secret flesh, trembling it, sending it closer and closer to the prize. A second power began. One stronger, deeper in my belly. One I'd never known. It shuddered, pushed its way past the usual, through the norm and into the extraordinary. Like a fist, slamming up from my middle, the orgasm pressed a shocking explosion, spreading to the tips of my nipples, the power points in my palms and feet. To the very center of my brain. It vibrated with a low hum that accelerated, blinding and deafening me as I screamed, "John! Oh Jesus! John!"

"I got you, baby." He moved up my body, holding my trembling flesh in is gentle hands. "I got you." He kissed, tenderly set a warm hand on my face, watching me float before I finally returned to the bed, safe in his arms. "Jesus, baby. I will always have you."

"Yes," I gasped, blinking through tears of unbelievable joy. "Always."

John slowly moved his straining cock to the door, groaned at the heat and warmth before sliding inside. His arms slithered under me, pressing me tight to his heart, his face deep in my neck. As his hips moved, I pressed my hands down to his lower back, encouraging, begging for more, for all of him. John's mouth found mine. His cock was like fire, hot and demanding, soothing and searing my insides. I trembled again, feeling myself involuntarily clasp at him, suck him deeper. The rushing return of my orgasm pulled his with fury and strength. His come was powerful, pulsing, pressing, filling me. Taking me. I am his.

And he is mine.

***

John set his face on my belly, panting, breathing hard. His head suddenly popped up as my stomach gave a loud, rumbling growl.

"Jesus, Riles."

I giggled. "I'm starving."

"No shit." He pulled on his jeans and walked to the locked door. Listened. Looked at me with a wicked grin. "I smell pizza." His fist pounded. "Hey! You gonna feed us or what?"

I sat up, pulled the sheets to my neck. Smiled as the door swung opened. Lachlan, three bandaids on his face, handed John a pizza box and two beers. He gazed at me, grinned that knowing grin and chuckled. "So, mates. Ya ever gonna get your arses on a plane to Vermont so that I can sleep in my own bed?"

John thudded the door closed with his hip and shouted. "Maybe tomorrow."