Destiny Calls

by Samantha Wayland

  “And anyway, none of that explains why Bobby would consider Brandon an

  „abomination".” His tone told her how much the insult pissed him off.

  It sure made her want to hit something.

  “It"s interesting,” he continued, working it out by talking it through. And she was interested in hearing it. She had shot the man, after all. “All he"s asked for since arriving in the prison infirmary is a Bible and the newspaper. Not even a phone call. He comes off as a loner. That and his religious fanaticism aren"t really the hallmarks of the typical mobster.”

  Patrick paused, lost to thought as he picked at the label on his beer bottle. Just when he looked like he was about to say something, Brandon arrived home. Instead of continuing, Patrick locked his jaw and watched Brandon silently.

  And she"d thought Patrick was in a bad mood?

  It has been an absolutely craptastic day.

  Storming into the kitchen, Brandon kissed Destiny on the cheek, ignoring the look she gave him, then turned to the refrigerator and yanked out a much-needed beer. With a quick twist, he tossed the cap across the room, missed the trash by a mile and guzzled half of the contents of the bottle before slamming the fridge door closed.

  Throwing himself in his chair, he put the bottle down on the table hard and stared at it, not even trying to hide his shitty fucking attitude.

  Destiny quietly turned off the stove and set whatever she was cooking aside.

  “How are you doing, Bran?” she asked gently.

  “Fine, ” he offered sarcastically.

  “What"s wrong?”

  He sighed, reminding himself not to take it out on her. “I need to get a thicker skin, I guess.”

  “What happened?” She glanced at Patrick, no doubt discouraged to find him slumped in his chair, scowling at his beer bottle. She wasn"t going to get any help from that corner.

  Brandon scrubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing. I"m sorry. I"m being stupid. A bunch of the guys were cool, offering to do what they could to help put away the fucker that did this to me. Let"s just say others weren"t as supportive. And really, everyone is treating me differently. For some fucking reason, the fact that I"ve been having sex with men for years suddenly makes them think they need to treat me differently now. Go figure. I mean, it"s not like I wander around thinking about what these assholes do with 131

  Samantha Wayland

  their wives at night. But hey, if you sleep with people of the same sex, that"s worth thinking about.”

  Destiny touched his shoulder and he put his hand over hers. It was small comfort, but it helped. In his calmer moments he could acknowledge that some of his friends and colleagues were probably just acting strange because they were worried about him and felt bad about what had happened. But then he"d think about the ones that were quite obviously disgusted by him and the calm moments proved fleeting.

  Jesus, he needed to figure out what he was doing here.

  Patrick took a sip of his beer without looking at either of them. “And him?” she asked, frowning at Patrick.

  He sighed heavily again, miserable. “Yeah, he"s getting it, too. The few minutes I spent in his presence practically ground the entire Boston Police Department to a halt.

  Look at Patrick! He’s friends with a man who fucks men! ” Patrick winced. He might as well have punched Brandon in the gut.

  “Fuck that,” Destiny snapped. “What is wrong with these people? It"s not like it"s a big deal to discover there are gay people in fucking Massachusetts!” She stopped yelling and blew out a breath, obviously trying to rein in her temper. He doubted she was aware of how hard she clenched his shoulder or that she was dropping f-bombs like…well, like Patrick. Eventually she continued, only marginally more calm. “Are you sure they"re not just curious? And if they are a bunch of bigots, can"t you talk to your bosses? Get them to do something about all the gossip, at least? Patrick"s getting looks because he"s your friend? Christ, what"s going to happen when they find out he"s your lover?”

  Patrick"s head shot up, but Brandon saved him the trouble. “No! They can never know, Des,” he said firmly.

  She stared at Patrick as he remained mute. Brandon appreciated her protectiveness but it just wasn"t that simple. “It"s not about shame, Des. It"s okay. Really.” Christ, he sounded like he was trying to convince himself it was true. “I have other options,” he continued, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I can leave.” The silence following that pronouncement was deafening.

  Patrick finally looked at him, although it was as if he"d grown a second head.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I can"t believe you"d consider leaving the force,” Patrick said, sounding hurt.

  Shit. Again, if only it were that simple.

  He tried to explain. “Look, at this point that would hardly matter. If I quit the PD

  tomorrow, everyone is still going to be talking about you. Guilt by association.” He swallowed hard again then looked down at his hand on the table. “The right thing to do is for me to leave this house. To end this. I can"t keep coming here. It"s not fair to you.” Patrick was on his feet so fast, Destiny stumbled back a step.

  132

  Destiny Calls

  Brandon, though, didn"t flinch.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Patrick roared.

  “Patrick,” he said calmly, trying hard not to rise to Patrick"s anger. “You can"t deny it"s awful at work. Or that you"d ever be okay working any other place on earth. You"re a Boston cop to the core, man. I won"t be responsible for fucking that up.” He felt sick just thinking about what that would mean for Patrick if he couldn"t do his job. What it would mean for them. Forget being lovers. Patrick might never forgive Brandon. He"d lose everything.

  “My god, this martyr shit is starting to piss me off,” Patrick ground out, leaning over to get in his face. “I cannot believe you would leave because you think I can"t put up with some shit at work.”

  Brandon grimaced. “It"s not like that and you know it. This could impact your career.”

  “That"s right, it could. And guess what? That"s my fucking problem.” Patrick continued to loom over him across the table. “Do you want to be here, Brandon? With us?”

  “I do.” No point lying.

  “Then, what I want to know now,” Patrick demanded, his voice rough as his temper continued to soar, “is what the fuck people said to you today, what the fuck people did to you today to make you even consider walking away?” Patrick the Defender in full lather was a sight to behold. Too bad Patrick couldn"t protect him from the bad guys this time.

  He sat back and regarded Patrick calmly. “Don"t worry about it.”

  “I will worry about it, Bran.”

  “I"m fine. It"s going to be okay.”

  “It"s not okay, Brandon!” Patrick boomed. “It"s not fucking okay. It will never be fucking okay for fucking small-minded bigots to hurt someone I love.” Destiny"s mouth dropped open and she fell into her chair as Brandon shot out of his.

  Patrick turned his back on them both and clenched his fists in his hair. “Shit!” What have I done?

  Standing in his kitchen, Patrick tugged on his hair, hoping the pain would help him get his shit back together. Goddamn it. Brandon was making him mental.

  Leaving the force? Leaving them? The past two days hadn"t been easy, but he was sure time would ease Brandon"s paranoia and the rest of the department"s prurient interest. But how long would that take—and could he hold on if Bran was willing to walk after only one day?

  133

  Samantha Wayland

  He kept his back to his lovers, certain that if he turned around and saw again the hurt and exhaustion radiating from Brandon, he"d really lose his shit.

  “I, ah…” he started, not sure what he wanted to say, “I…shouldn"t have said that.” Destiny"s gasp forced him around to face them. The look she shot him made him wince.

  “No, I mean I was worked up and…” H
e trailed off when her look got meaner. He was fucking this up.

  Brandon shook his head and took his seat once more. “Don"t worry about it, Patrick.”

  Christ, Brandon was trying to let him off the hook. Fuck that.

  Brandon had been his best friend for more years than he could count and even without their newfound intimacy, he"d loved Brandon for all of those years. Before he"d have said as a brother, but now it was much more than that.

  He"d been fucking up a lot recently, been a coward, and this time he was determined to do better. To do right.

  “Brandon, listen. That"s not what I meant when I said I shouldn"t have said that.

  Hell, maybe I should have said it a lot sooner. I just meant I shouldn"t have yelled.”

  “Don"t worry about it. Really.” Brandon shrugged, waving it away.

  “I will worry about it,” Patrick insisted, trying to get Brandon to understand.

  Brandon took a long pull of his beer, shrugging again. “It"s not a big deal.” Not a big deal? The man could be so freaking stubborn. “Damn it, Brandon. Knock.

  It. Off!”

  “What?” Brandon asked, the picture of innocence.

  “Stop dismissing what I"m saying!” he hollered, aware that he was yelling again but unable to resist.

  “What the hell are you saying?” Brandon shouted back, standing to lean over the table and get in his face, their noses almost touching.

  “I"m saying I love you, you freaking idiot!”

  “Well, great, because I love you too, you asshole.” Their words hung in the air of the kitchen. No one moved. All he could do was stare at Brandon.

  “Men,” Destiny muttered, clutching her head in her hands.

  Patrick looked down at her, ready to switch gears and start battling her inevitable panic. He hadn"t meant to lay all his cards on the table, but by god, Brandon could be a stubborn son of a bitch.

  Instead, Destiny just looked at him and rolled her eyes.

  “If you two are done yelling at each other?” she asked, waving her hand between them.

  134

  Destiny Calls

  He didn"t know what to make of her reaction. “Uh…well, what I meant was—” She smiled up at them. “I know what you meant. I love you both too. I"ve been telling you that since high school, haven"t I? I get that you guys get more hung up on that crap.”

  Good lord. Did she honestly think that kind of love was what he was yelling about?

  Brandon"s face fell.

  Shit.

  “So,” Destiny continued, “can one of you walk Farley while I finish supper?” Brandon practically dove for the door and away from him. “I got it,” he offered before calling Farley"s name.

  Patrick listened to his pampered dog jump off the living room couch and bound through the house while Destiny busily organized her ingredients on the counter. She was completely focused on her task. He imagined she"d have to be. He could remember all too well how hard one had to work to keep the denial train on the tracks.

  Brandon opened the door.

  “Hey, wait up. I"ll come with you,” Patrick called.

  Brandon shrugged in his infuriatingly calm way, never once looking at him. He barely stopped long enough to clip the leash on Farley before stepping outside.

  Patrick sighed, kissed Destiny"s cheek then strode out the door. Brandon could run, but Patrick wasn"t going to let him get far. Never mind that Bran shouldn"t be anywhere alone these days, Patrick was determined to set things straight.

  He was on the back porch with the door closed firmly behind him when Brandon turned the corner out of the driveway. Patrick wanted to bound after him, much as his doofus dog had done, but gave himself credit for dignity as he walked quickly to catch up.

  “Bran, wait!”

  The only reason Brandon slowed at all was because Farley had found his favorite tree and was doing his level best to water it thoroughly. He owed his damn dog a big cookie.

  Drawing up to Brandon"s side, Patrick sighed when his friend still didn"t spare him a glance. Like watching the dog pee was that interesting.

  Though, now that he was here, Patrick wasn"t sure what to say. He wanted to be honest, but not scare the man away.

  He went with the simple truth, watching Brandon carefully to gauge his reaction.

  “Just so we"re both clear, the feelings I have for you now do not, in the slightest way, resemble the way I felt about you in high school.” With a start, Brandon turned to him, his electric-green eyes wide. Mr. Calm-as-a-fucking-morning-lake-on-a-clear-day dropped all his shields and let Patrick see it all.

  135

  Samantha Wayland

  Patrick"s pounding heart lurched in his chest as Brandon"s shock was replaced with a gentle smile curving his lips.

  By the time the boys returned with Farley, Destiny had finished cooking dinner and both Patrick and Brandon seemed to have settled down. Maybe the night air had helped them cool their heads.

  That whole scene had been weird. She felt kind of anxious, restless. Maybe she should take a walk.

  Her family had never been one for passionate discourse. Then again, they hadn"t been much of family. Not even before the divorce.

  Cripes. She wasn"t going to think about all that old crap.

  She had a different family now and they were both at the table, waiting for Chicken Stir-Fry ala Destiny.

  They ate quickly. It only took her a few minutes to revise her earlier belief that her boys had settled. Not hardly. Within two bites, they were sending her and each other looks that made all the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her awareness of them, their bodies, the shift of muscle beneath their clothes, sky-rocketed. Her pulse skittered. She caught Brandon staring at her nipples, obvious and erect beneath her blouse, and she ached.

  Patrick"s hand brushed her knee beneath the table and she jumped, making their dishes rattle. She blushed hotly and she didn"t even know if it was from embarrassment or the inferno of need they were fanning in her.

  Brandon stood to clear the table and she leapt to her feet as well. Patrick rose at a marginally more dignified pace. She could feel his eyes on her, watching how her chest rose and fell, her breathing rate no longer within her control.

  The moment Brandon ditched the dishes in the sink, he turned and snugged up behind her. She moaned, wriggling her hips back so that his erection nestled into the valley of her ass.

  She pulled Patrick closer, humming in appreciation when his hard-on rolled along her belly, her writhing gaining intensity as the men wrapped their arms around her and each other. They pressed closer.

  And still not close enough. She didn"t know how she"d ever get them close enough.

  Running her hands into Patrick"s hair, she fisted them around the short strands and pulled his mouth to hers.

  Her kiss was frantic. Her need unlike any she"d had before. Heart rate surging, she circled her hips to rub against both men, to feel them, wallow in them and their strength. Their love.

  When she thought her head might blow off, she ripped her lips away from Patrick"s and turned, fisting two hands in Brandon"s blond curls and laying an equally fervent kiss on him.

  136

  Destiny Calls

  Their lips and tongues met and danced. Gone was Brandon"s usual finesse, lost to his attempts to devour her. It was what she needed. What she wanted him to do.

  Her ass chased back against Patrick, whose mouth was coasting down her neck, whose nimble fingers were already unbuttoning her suit jacket and peeling it from her shoulders.

  They moved toward the door as one. She couldn"t bear the thought of their warm, hard bodies not being pressed to hers, even for the length of time it took to get to a bed.

  If they made it that far.

  Relentless in their quest for the bedroom, never relinquishing their hold on one another for more than a second, they stumbled, tripped, crawled and staggered their way up the stairs, leaving what remained of their clothing in their wake.

 
At some point, their gasping breaths between kisses became laughs. Her anxiety forgotten, joy washed over her like a warm tide, pulling her along in their arms. The world outside was complicated, but this—this was simple. Perfect.

  With a last reeling lurch, they barreled through the bedroom door, their legs tangling as they threw themselves onto the bed.

  “Ooof,” Brandon moaned, having landed on the bottom.

  She and Patrick immediately rolled off him, worried that they"d hurt his ribs. His shoulder.

  “Hey! Come back here.” Brandon"s hand wrapped around her arm and with a tug and twist, had her neatly pinned beneath him, his hard cock jammed against her mound. It felt great and she wanted more. But not at the risk of hurting him.

  “Are you sure you"re up for these antics?” she asked, trying to keep it light. There were plenty of things they could do that wouldn"t require him to do anything but lay back. They"d proven that time and again over the past few days and not come close to running out of ideas.

  “I"m fine,” he said with a smile, rocking his hips against hers. “And if you two don"t stop babying me, my manly ego is going to get bruised. I promise,” he said with a wicked smile, “if I get tired, I can always rest my shoulder.” He let his hands slide across the bed, his chest pressing her down into the mattress, his mouth locking over hers.

  For a long moment, Destiny drowned in the pleasure of his kiss, of his warmth and weight. She might have gone on like that for hours, but Brandon"s entire body jerked, his mouth leaving hers with a gasp when Patrick crawled over them both. His arms held his weight off Brandon"s back, even as he pressed along the length of it. Brandon"s hips shifted against her as Patrick ground down against him from behind.

  “You sure you"re done being babied?” Patrick asked in a voice that gave her goose bumps.

  Brandon got them too. She stared in wonder at Brandon"s flushed face and wide eyes, a portrait of raw need.

  137

  Samantha Wayland

  He sure as hell looked ready.

  138

  Destiny Calls

  Chapter Twelve

  Brandon"s heart stuttered in his chest when Patrick"s huge shaft nestled into the crease of his ass, the thick base pressing against his sensitive hole.