by Stormy Glenn
He was still a little shaken by the idea that both of his mates were now vampires, especially after everything he had been taught about the Great War. Vampires and wolf-shifters were not supposed to be friends, let alone mates. Chase had dropped that crazy idea after Devlin mated Zacarius.
And now he was glad he had.
Chase could barely remember his life without Justin and Taylor in it, and frankly, he didn’t want to. They made him happier than he could ever remember being.
Chase started for the kitchen, intent on making a pot of coffee, but a knock at the front door stopped him. He frowned and glanced down at the watch on his wrist. It wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning. Who in the hell would be knocking on his door at a time like this?
Chase walked to the front door and carefully peeked through the eyehole. All he saw was the pad of a thumb. Chase rolled his eyes and unlocked the door, pulling it open. “Morning, Marc,” he said as he turned and headed for the kitchen once again.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Marc drawled as he shut the door and trailed after Chase.
“I moved in last week. We’re looking for something a bit bigger, but this will do until then.” Chase glanced up from where he was measuring out coffee to look at his friend and former coworker. “Why? What’s up?”
“I did a little investigating,” Marc said as he leaned his shoulder against the kitchen doorframe. “Lowell Erickson is not who he says he is.”
Chase grimaced. He really didn’t want to talk about that rat bastard before he had his first cup of coffee of the day and maybe not even before the first pot. “I figured as much.”
“No, you don’t get it, Chase. I mean, he doesn’t exist. Twenty-five years ago, there was no Lowell Erickson, and then he just popped up out of the blue, already established with a birth certificate and everything. He even had a police record with a traffic violation for parking in front of a fire hydrant.”
“Okay.” Chase put the scoop back in the coffee container and replaced the lid, and then put the can back into the cupboard. He turned on the coffee pot and pulled down two cups as he gave himself time to think. He just wasn’t sure what to think.
“There’s something seriously hinky about that man, Chase.” Marc rubbed his chin with his hand, looking confused and intrigued at the same time. “No one just pops up like that, and I mean no one, and you know I know what I’m talking about.”
Marc did. He was the point man on more missions that Chase had gone on than anyone else. He was a whiz at creating false identities and paper trails. If he said something was wrong, then something was wrong.
“Don't forget that he might have sired more children than half the women on the planet,” Chase reminded Marc. “If Justin has a brother out there, we need to know, considering it looks like this man might be selling his children. I just don’t want the agency involved in this, Marc.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do.”
“I mean it. They don’t need to know about this, any of it. If they agency doesn’t already know about us, then I would prefer that they never found out. There are a lot of people depending on your secrecy, not just me.”
“I hear you, Chase, and I promise I won’t say a word. But one of these days, you and I need to have a long talk about keeping secrets. I knew about you. I’ve always known about you. I did not know about everyone else.”
Chase sighed. “It wasn’t my secret to tell, Marc.”
“I get that,” Marc said. “But I’m in the loop now. There’s no longer any need to keep it a secret from me.”
“Marc—”
“Especially since I am keeping so many secrets for you”—Marc pulled a legal-sized manila envelope out of his jacket and slapped it down on the countertop—”especially your new identity.”
Chase’s eyebrows shot up as he reached for the large envelope. “My what?”
Marc smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb again. “It’s sad really. From what the sheriff and I have been able to piece together, Chase Morgan found out that his location had been discovered, and he decided to make a run for it. Unfortunately, the poor man lost control of his truck and crashed it into a ravine just outside of town. The whole vehicle went up in flames. Sheriff Nash had to use dental records to identify the body because it was burned beyond recognition.”
Marc slowly sauntered over to the breakfast nook and sat down in one of the chairs. He brought one of his hands up to his face and blew on his fingernails before rubbing them on his shirt.
“Everyone at the agency was really upset when they heard the news. They were hoping to bring Chase back into the company.” Marc smirked. “Especially since another one of our agents is missing now, too. It seems Remington has gone missing, and the director was hoping Chase would take his place. Now, of course, I have my work cut out for me tracking Remington down, and who knows where he’s gotten off to.”
Chase’s mouth dropped open. He stared at Marc for several tension-filled moments and then glanced down at the papers he pulled out of the manila envelope. “Chase Foyt-Ried?” Chase head snapped up. “My name is Chase Foyt-Ried? Did you have to hyphenate it?”
“Works for us.”
Chase glanced over to see Taylor and Justin standing in the entry to the kitchen, both looking adorable in their pajama bottoms and ruffled hair. The sleepy looks in their eyes was outshined by the wide grins on their lips. Their faces glowed.
It was a good look on them.
“You don’t mind me changing my name?”
“Chase, we didn’t mate you for your name,” Justin said. “We mated you because we loved you, and for no other reason.”
Chase swallowed past the lump that seemed to suddenly have appeared in his throat. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Taylor grinned as he walked over to Chase and then leaned up to plant a small kiss on his lips. “You could call yourself Santa Claus, and I’d still do you.”
Chase chuckled as he returned Taylor’s kiss and then planted another one on Justin’s upturned face. He glanced back down at the papers in his hands, feeling strange to be reading his new name on a birth certificate where his old name should be.
But it was for the best.
With a new identity, and a dead body that had been proven to be Chase Morgan, he had a better chance of keeping his mates safe. It was also a great solution for the dead body they had had on their hands once Marc killed Remington. No one would really miss the man. After a month or two of trying to find the man, Marc would be put on a different mission by the agency and eventually, Remington’s whereabouts would be forgotten.
“Okay then, I guess I’m Chase Foyt-Ried now.”
“I think I want to be a Foyt-Ried, too,” Justin said. “Taylor? What about you?”
“Well.” Taylor’s nose tilted into the air as if he was horribly offended. “If someone was to ask me to be a Foyt-Ried, I might consider it.”
Chase twisted his lips, having a hard time keeping from laughing at Taylor’s little display.
“Of course, if that question came with a ring…”
“What?” Justin snapped, clearly not understanding that Taylor was joking. He slapped one hand on his hip and glared at Taylor, smacking Taylor in the arm with the other. “A forbidden ancient ritual wasn’t enough for you?”
Chase could see where this was going, and he knew he needed to stop it now. He could think of only one way to do that. He slapped his hands over both his mates’ mouths and turned to look at Marc.
“If you’ll excuse us, we have a few small details to work out. Thanks for your help.”
“Hey, it’s no problem, man. Glad I could help.” Marc chuckled as he got to his feet and started for the door. “I need to head out anyway. I have a couple of leads on Lowell Erickson I need to check out anyway. I still think there’s something hinky about that man other than him being a complete rat bastard. I'll do a little investigating into that twin thing as well. I’ll let you know what I f
ind out.”
Marc paused at the door and turned, shaking his finger at Chase. “Just remember to invite me to the wedding, Mr. Foyt-Ried.”
“I’ll call you, Marc, and thanks.”
Chase waited until the front door shut behind Marc and then turned to his mates. “Now, you both listen to me very carefully. There are three of us in this relationship. That means three opinions, and they are not always going to be the same opinions. But I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt. We love each other, and we have the rest of eternity to work out the details. Nothing else matters, not names, where we live, or who fucks who. Just the fact that we love each other. Am I right?”
Taylor and Justin nodded eagerly.
“Good. Now…” Chase dropped his hands from Justin’s and Taylor’s mouths and smacked them both on the ass before pushing past his two mates and racing for the stairs. “First man naked on the bed gets to be the man in the middle.”
THE END
WWW.STORMYGLENN.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stormy believes the only thing sexier than a man in cowboy boots is two or three men in cowboy boots. She also believes in love at first sight, soul Mates, true love, and happy endings.
Stormy lives in the great Northwest region of the USA, with her gorgeous husband and soul Mate, six very active teenagers, two boxer/collie puppies, one old biddy cat, and one fish.
You can usually find her cuddled in bed with a book in her hand and a puppy in her lap, or on her laptop, creating the next sexy man for one of her stories. Stormy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website at www.stormyglenn.com
For all titles by Stormy Glenn, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/stormy-glenn
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
