Free Laid Open by Lauren Dane

ear. The pale network of scars on Todd’s chest where he’d been shot in the line of duty years before. Each man had the scruff of a vacation beard.
    The rumble of their voices soothed her without nettling. And she let herself give in, let herself need them.
    She moved to the blanket, sitting with her guitar in her lap.
    Ben made a plate for her, setting it within her reach. She took his hand, kissing his wrist before she took a bite of the fruit and cheese he’d stacked for her.
    They ate in relative silence. It was a silence she’d needed. Instead of having to put up a false front that everything was okay, they let her be.
    Even after years with them both, it surprised her just how well they knew and loved her.
    The ocean murmured off to their left. The give and take, the ebb and flow of all that force and energy filled the air with ambient white noise.
    She strummed, picking her way through a song she’d had in her head for a while. She’d held off, knowing it would be difficult to work through, not having the energy to face it.
    But it was the right time.
    She took a sip of the dirty mai tai Todd had created for her before diving in.
    They cleared most of the food, tucking away the leftovers and leaving out some snacks before lying back to watch her work.
    * * *
    Her sunglasses didn’t hide the tears in her voice as she began to create the song. Ben had been a fan of her music for many years. Long enough to know the smoke and whiskey just then was the taste of grief.
    The sun on his skin, the sound of the ocean and the salt on his tongue did little to temper the knot in his throat as she sang about a wasteland of emptiness.
    His woman was vibrant and filled with the joy of life. Creative, sexy. The most charismatic person he’d ever met.
    But this Erin was his too. Guilt and despair, grief and loss. It was so much to deal with, just watching her at times like these. But she needed that from them. Needed them to be her anchor in the storm she attempted to live through.
    She had no idea, really, the depth of her own strength and resolve. He’d tell her, as he tried to do from time to time.
    He’d give her the words when she’d hear them best. Because that’s what she so often did with him and Todd. Because he loved her—he hoped with the depth and commitment she deserved.
    Todd lay out next to him on the blanket, his gaze on Erin. He’d reached out and taken Ben’s hand, their fingers loosely entwined.
    Something had shifted between them. Todd was most often the fixer. He guarded them all with an intensity Ben found comforting and sexy all at once. But that day it had been Ben who was the fixer. Even though he’d shared his discomfort at his place at times in their family, it was Todd who’d needed
him
to lean on.
    A new step. Three decades of friendship, years of an intimate, romantic relationship, and he still learned things about himself as well as Todd and Erin.
    Erin would get through that day. She’d wake up the next and go on. Because it was who she was. And they’d help her through it.
    * * *
    Erin played and sang until the sun had begun to set. After the last, haunting lines—
The price was too high. Living without you leaves me . . . broken—
she looked up, pulling her sunglasses off, and there was nothing Todd could do to stop himself from moving to her to take her into his arms and hold her while she cried.
    Ben followed, holding them both, the strength of his arms around them soothing.
    Finally, Erin sniffled and pulled back. “I’m sorry.”
    “For aching at the loss of your baby? Do you really, truly believe either of us would expect you to apologize for that?” Ben shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “We love you. There are no apologies for this.”
    “I wish . . . I don’t know what I wish, I guess.” She put her guitar down, her muscles still trembling from the emotion of the day. “I only know I’m glad you’re both here.”
    Ben moved to her other side. Both men