Monroe, Marla - Belonging to Them [Men of the Border Lands 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Monroe, Marla - Belonging to Them [Men of the Border Lands 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Marla Monroe Read Free Book Online

Book: Monroe, Marla - Belonging to Them [Men of the Border Lands 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Marla Monroe Read Free Book Online
Authors: Marla Monroe
brat. It hadn’t gone over well.
    “I need to go out and pull some greens for supper tonight. Do you want to go with me?” Heather asked.
    “Naw, I’m staying in where it’s warm. I’ll watch you from inside. Don’t be out too long. It’s cold.”
    “I won’t.”
    She pulled on her coat, hat, and gloves, and grabbed a dishpan. Then walked out the back to the garden and pulled what she needed for a meal. As she turned to go back in, someone grabbed at her. She thought at first it was one of the brothers, but his smell hit her. She screamed and tried to kick out at the man. He covered her mouth with his hand and she bit him. He backhanded her and tried to throw her over his shoulder, but she hit him over the head with the dishpan and screamed for Bolton.
    The next thing she knew, Bolton and Brandon both were on the man, pulling him off her.
    “In the house, now,” Brandon yelled.
    Heather ran for the house and slammed the door, locking it as well. She peered out the window to let the boys in as soon as they came up on the porch.
    “What the hell happened?” Brandon demanded.
    “I went out to gather some greens for supper, and he came up behind me.” Tears streamed down her face.
    “I’ve told you not to go anywhere by yourself.”
    “Don’t fuss at her. I told her she could go out by herself. I was watching her, but I turned away long enough to get a cup of coffee. When I came back she was screaming. It’s my fault.” Bolton slammed his hand against the door.
    “Where did the man go?”
    “He escaped out into the woods. I didn’t want to chase after him in case there was anyone else snooping around.” Brandon ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, look at your face. The bastard hit you.”
    Heather touched her face and winced. She was sure it was red, and would be blue by the morning.
    “I’m sorry, Brandon.”
    “Hell, it’s not your fault. Fuck!” Brandon grabbed a cloth and wet in with the cool water from the sink. He handed it to her. “Put it on your face, maybe it will keep the swelling down some.”
    Bolton wrapped his arms around her and led her to the other room, where he tugged her down into his lap. Brandon stomped back outside. Heather couldn’t stop the tears. Whether they were from the fright and the pain of her face, or because Brandon had left her, she didn’t know. All she knew was that they were growing farther and farther apart. It was breaking her heart. She knew she loved them both, and Brandon’s withdrawal hurt.
    They still had sex, but he wasn’t in on it quite as much. She got the feeling he wasn’t as pleased with her as before, and she didn’t understand why. She tried hard to please him, but it didn’t seem to be enough.
    “Hey, honey. You need to calm down. It’s over with now. We aren’t going to let anyone hurt you again.” Bolton held her close and kissed her temple, avoiding her bruised face.
    “Why doesn’t he like me anymore, Bolton?”
    “He does like you. He just has a lot of stress right now. The weather is going to get worse before it gets better. It gets tough out here in the winter once the snow sets in.”
    “That’s not all it is. He doesn’t want me sexually like he used to. It hurts, Bolton.”
    “I know, honey. Give it some time. He’ll come around.”

    * * * *

    Brandon stomped out into the backyard where the guy had disappeared. He’d almost gotten her. If they’d been much later, he might have made it. He felt like a failure. He hadn’t been able to protect her like he’d promised. It wasn’t right that they had to worry, and she had to be watched like a hawk. No wonder she felt like a piece of meat being pulled along in every direction. She deserved better than that. She’d called herself a possession. She was much more than that. She was his life. He could finally admit to himself that he loved her. She would never believe it if he told her. She felt like he was the one keeping her captive. Well, she could think that way,

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