Ghost watched him carefully. “You think too much.”
“Somebody has to,” Buck grumbled.
“No.” Ghost stepped closer. “You talk too much when you’re scared.”
Buck barked out a humorless laugh. “No shit.”
Ghost’s shoulder bumped him lightly. “You know what I think?” Ghost asked quietly. Buck didn’t answer. “I think you’ve spent your whole life carrying everybody else.” Ghost looked toward the clubhouse windows where warm light glowed through frosted glass. “And now for the first time, you found two people you actually want for yourself.”
Buck swallowed hard because that was exactly it. Ghost wasn’t just his brother, and Wren wasn’t just someone he needed to protect. Somewhere along the way, he wanted them both to be his, and the realization terrified him.
“What if she doesn’t want this?” Buck asked finally.
Ghost smirked faintly. “Then we respect that.”
“And if she does want it?” Buck asked.
Ghost’s pale eyes darkened slightly. “Then I guess we stop pretending.” Buck’s pulse kicked harder. Jesus Christ. The image of Wren between them hit him instantly. Ghost’s mouth was on hers while Buck’s hands held her hips. The three of themtangled together beneath his sheets while snowstorms raged outside. The thought nearly brought him to his knees. Ghost must’ve seen it on his face because his grin turned downright wicked.
“There he is,” Ghost murmured. “That’s the look I’ve been waiting for.”
Buck shoved him lightly. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah.” Ghost’s smile softened just slightly. “But I’m betting that you like me that way.” Buck snorted despite himself as the back door creaked open behind them. Both men turned instantly to find Wren standing there, wrapped in Buck’s flannel again, hair messy from sleep, eyes wary as she looked between them.
“You two okay?” she asked softly. Buck and Ghost exchanged one long look, and for the first time in years, Buck stopped running from what he wanted.
Wren looked too damn soft standing in the doorway. Buck’s oversized flannel swallowed her whole, the sleeves hanging past her hands while her curls fell messily around her shoulders like she’d been tossing and turning. Sleep still lingered in her eyes, but there was concern there, too, as she looked between him and Ghost.
“You two, okay?” she asked softly. Buck’s chest tightened painfully because he wanted this woman too much already. Ghost leaned casually against the porch railing beside him, but Buck could feel the tension in him now, too. Everything between the three of them felt different after what had just been said.
Buck cleared his throat roughly. “We’re fine.”
Wren narrowed her eyes immediately, like she knew he was lying. “You look like you were fighting.”
Ghost grinned. “No, we’re fine,” he insisted. Buck shot him a look. Ghost ignored it completely and pushed away from the railing. “Relax, sweetheart. Nobody’s bleeding.” His eyes slid toward Buck knowingly. “Yet.” Wren blinked slowly between them. Buck could practically see her trying to figure out what had changed out here. The problem was that everything had.
Ghost moved first, brushing past Wren toward the door before pausing beside her. “Get some sleep if you can, pretty thing.” His voice softened unexpectedly. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.”
Wren frowned slightly. “That’s not comforting.”
“Wasn’t meant to be,” Ghost said. He disappeared inside, leaving Buck alone with her beneath the porch light and falling snow. Silence stretched between them.
Wren stepped closer slowly. “What’s going on?”
Buck stared at her for a long moment before answering. Too many truths sat heavy in his chest right now. Ghost’s confession and his own. The way both of them looked at her like she’d become something precious overnight.
“We’re figuring things out,” he said finally.
“That sounds ominous,” she teased.
“It probably is,” Buck admitted.
A tiny smile tugged at her mouth despite everything. “You know, for a guy built like a mountain, you’re surprisingly bad at reassuring people.” Buck huffed out a quiet laugh. God, he liked her.
Wren’s expression softened slightly at the sound. “You have a nice smile, Buck,” she breathed.
His eyes darkened. “You’re making it really hard not to do something stupid.” Her breath caught almost immediately. Every conversation between them turned into this now—heat and tension and words layered with too much meaning.
