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Chapter 10
Merry
Jeans wereno longer an option after the spanking I had just received, and even cotton panties chafed and burned. I scrubbed my face and reapplied fresh makeup, but nothing could erase the deep blush that covered my face as I entered the kitchen, thirty minutes later, commando underneath a pair of thin yoga pants, to find Nan rolling out sugar cookie dough. Her sallow skin morphed into a knowing smirk.
"I'm sorry I got you in trouble."
"Hmpph," I muttered, still a little sore over the fact that I had taken all the blame. Not that I had a choice. The idea of Blake or Slade punishing Nan in any way was ludicrous.
"It's funny," Nan mused, expertly rolling out dough without looking at me. "Neither of those boys ever met Joe or Mike, but damned if they aren't just like them."
"Who's Mike?" My eyebrows furrowed as I searched my memory banks for the name in the list of foster kids from way before my time, coming up blank. No Mike had ever been mentioned.
"I've never told you about Mike? No, of course, I haven't. Had no reason to. But I do now, don't I?"
It was Nan's turn to blush as she finally looked up at me, a mischievous grin spreading slowly across her face. "Here, honey, you sit down," she commanded, gesturing to the bank of wooden stools on the opposite side of the island. "I even fetched you one of the old stool pads. Ugly little things, really, but much nicer than parking a well-spanked bottom on a hard wooden stool. That's one I know from experience and, well, thank you."
Grimacing, I sat softly, fighting the urge to cry in pain as my ass made contact. Even with the pad, it was excruciating. Of course, standing wasn't much better. Completely my own fault, of course. Why did I have to be so damn stubborn?
"I'd offer you ice, but that would have gotten me in trouble, back in the day, and since my boys seem so similar to my men, you probably shouldn't chance it."
"Scuse? Your men?" I questioned, the truth settling in my gut, even before she responded.
"Yes, my men. Joe and Mike. Haven't you been paying attention?"
"Apparently not," I mused, grabbing a cookie cutter from the tin on the edge of the island.
"Mike was Joe's brother," Nan informed me with a smile.
I widened my eyes and gaped at her with amusement, leaning over the counter as I waited to hear what was sure to be a juicy tale.
"I met them both the same week and accepted dates with both of them. I didn't know they were brothers," she admitted sheepishly. "They were both smart, funny, and sexy as hell. I liked them both a lot. And I happily dated them both. One day, Joe invited me to his house for a family barbeque on the fourth of July. Imagine my surprise when Mike was also there, and when they both called the same woman 'mom'. I wanted to turn tail and run, the moment I realized, but it was too late. They caught on. There were words exchanged, and I honestly thought they were going to come to blows, but it was the sixties, the start of the free love movement, and none of us were thinking long term. They propositioned me. Asked why I would want one Russo man, when I could have two. I couldn't think of a good reason. Not a single one. That night, when the party had ended, the three of us went back to my place."
Nan's eyes twinkled, and her face took on a far off look, as she sighed softly, caught up in her memories. I was caught up, too—in her story. "Earth to Nan." I waved my hand in front of her face.
"Oh, that was a fun summer," she sighed. "Two men are indeed better than one. But you know that, don't you?" she asked with a conspiratorial wink in my direction.
"Enough about me," I said with a blush, waving away her pointed remark. "What happened to Mike? Why have I never heard of him before this?"
"Nobody has. It was a secret I'd planned on taking to my grave, I suppose. But watching the three of you has made an old woman's mind wander, and I've found myself thinking of that summer a lot, lately."
"So, what happened?" I was practically jumping up and down at that point.
Nan shook her head, and I watched as her wide smile turned to one of sadness. "Mike never wanted to be a farmer. When the US joined the Vietnam War, he enlisted. Oh, I was heartbroken, but Joe had always been the one for me. I knew that. Mike knew that. I suppose, in a way, it was part of the reason he left, but Mike was a dreamer. He had the wanderlust. On our last night together, he made slow love to me. When it was over, he kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear. I'll never forget what he said, because it was the last time I ever heard him speak. He died in the war, two years later, after Joe and I were married."
"What did he say? What did he say?" I was shrieking, and the cookies had been all but abandoned. They would never get done, at this rate.
"He said 'I love you enough to give you up, because, as much as I love you, Joe loves you more.' He was right. Joe loved me with a deep, unending love. Mike loved with a lot of passion, but he didn't have staying power like Joe did. He could have never given me all this the way my Joseph did. And where would I be without all my babies in my old age?"
I laughed, as I always did when Nan called her foster kids her babies. At twenty-four, I was the youngest, and not a single 'baby' had come to the ranch younger than age twelve. But we were all Nan's babies. And in some ways, it was true. For a lot of us, life hadn't really started until we got to the ranch.
"Thank you for sharing your story with me, Nan." Hopping off the stool, I crossed around the island and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her soft, weathered cheek.
She leaned in and kissed my cheek in return, patting my face. "I should be thanking you, my dear. It's been a long time since I have seen my boys so happy. Speaking of my boys, where are they?"
My stomach dropped, and my pussy wept as I remembered Blake's earlier promise of a reward. With those two, I could only imagine what that could mean. They had a gift for pain, a gift for pleasure, and a gift for making pain into pleasure.
"Um, they, uh, I don't know where they are," I admitted, trailing off.
