The only remaining question was how the fuck he was going to accomplish a miracle.
Pulling Destiny back from her panic was the first step, but it wasn"t going to be easy. She"d bolted. There was no taking back the words from Patrick"s big mouth. Lord knew, this wasn"t the first time he"d wished he could.
And then there was Patrick. Regardless of his stated intention of being with both of them, could gregarious, heart-on-his-sleeve, big-mouthed Patrick survive living in the cold dark of the closet? Could he thrive? Brandon knew how unpleasant it could be.
He shook his head . Yeah, just a few things to work on.
Lost in thought, he didn"t notice the shamrock-green taxi pull up until Destiny flung open the door and spilled out. He had barely taken one step toward her when she raced up the stairs and into his arms.
He sighed. This was a good start.
He wanted to hold her, rock her and tell her it was going to be okay—all of it—but she immediately pushed out of his arms. “Come on. Let"s get inside,” she urged, looking over her shoulder and tugging him toward the door.
He could see her fear in the pinch of her eyes, feel it in the tight clasp of her fingers.
He put aside his thoughts of fixing his screwed-up love life and focused on the more immediate issue of the latest threat to his family.
He smiled. His family.
His smile faded the moment they arrived at Carter and McGuire"s corner of the bullpen. Shit, he hated Carter. He tried to release Destiny"s hand but she wasn"t having it. Sighing inwardly, he decided the gossips could have another turn with them if Destiny needed to hold on.
Destiny took the chair beside McGuire, focusing on him, while Brandon stood behind her, their joined hands on her shoulder. She quickly described her encounter with the young zealot outside her office building.
He watched Carter"s face while they questioned her throughout. She never missed a beat when she insinuated she had stayed at Patrick"s house because she was his girlfriend and that Brandon had been there so they could keep an eye on him while he recovered from his injuries.
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Eventually, they asked her again why she didn"t think this guy was just a garden-variety religious nut.
Destiny frowned, considering the question for a moment. “It"s what he said at the end. He said that his pastor, or maybe God, had been right. That I was an abomination.” Brandon squeezed Destiny"s shoulder, trying to offer comfort. It wasn"t easy, since in an instant he"d gone from believing the connection to his beating was a long shot to being convinced the psychos had followed Destiny.
Now he could give Patrick a run for his money in the hyper-protectiveness race.
McGuire nodded, flipping back in his notebook. “That"s what Bobby Wilkinson called Detective Barrett during the second attack, right?” he asked calmly.
“That"s right.” The smile Destiny gifted McGuire with clearly expressed her gratitude that he was paying attention and not judging. Brandon wanted to hug the guy.
Everyone was ignoring Carter.
McGuire looked at Brandon. “It"s pretty thin.”
“Paper thin,” he agreed.
For a moment they fell silent.
Eventually, McGuire spoke. “Either way, we can"t ignore it.” When Carter opened his mouth, McGuire cut him off. “The kid didn"t commit a crime, but he hinted at one.” McGuire turned to Destiny. “And we have reason to believe you"ve been followed. To work. To your home.”
Destiny looked sick at the thought.
McGuire smiled at her kindly. “Is there somewhere you can stay?”
“She"s staying with us.” The words were out of Brandon"s mouth before he thought better of it. Christ, Patrick was the one with the big mouth and no filter. What the fuck was wrong with him?
He now held everyone"s undivided attention. He kept his face impassive, as if he hadn"t just stepped in a big pile of shit. He refused to backpedal. Or stammer. Or do anything that might make him look guilty.
“Destiny will have either me or Patrick with her at all times when she"s not in her office building. I"ll speak to her building security as well.” Destiny shot him a dark look. He should have asked her first, but he wasn"t feeling flexible about these points and sticking his foot in it had left him little option. He"d thank her later for not telling him to take a hike.
In the meantime, he decided a tactical retreat might be the best course of action at this point. “I have to go clear off my desk so I can take you home, Des. Give my cell a call when you"re done here and I"ll come get you.” She looked like she wanted to protest, but nodded instead.
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Brandon hightailed it out of the bullpen and straight to where Patrick waited, pacing like a caged lion in the small kitchen. He was doing as they"d agreed and staying out of sight until Destiny had a chance to talk to McGuire and Carter.
The last thing they needed was the inevitable explosion between Patrick and Destiny to detonate in front of this audience.
One clusterfuck at a time—that was Brandon"s new motto.
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Chapter Fourteen
Destiny was wrecked.
Wishing like hell she"d slept even ten minutes the night before, she dragged her ass along the corridor. Captain Sullivan looked at her with concern and she smiled at him, gratefully accepted the arm he held out for her as they weaved through the bullpen to get to his office. He had always struck her as an old-fashioned gentleman. Fatherly.
After the last week, she appreciated his kindness more than ever.
He gently urged her into one of his guest chairs, patting her hand then turning to talk on the phone. He paused on his way back out the door.
“I"ll send Patrick and Brandon to see you,” he offered, obviously trying to comfort her.
Talk about missing the mark.
Wide awake now, she stood, unsure what to do. How to escape.
She was bracing herself for Patrick, her presumed boyfriend as far as the Police Department was concerned, and was caught off guard when Brandon slipped through the door and gently pulled her into his arms.
She considered pushing away for a nanosecond, then closed her eyes and held on tight, feeling his warmth steal into her. She was surprised when she started to shake.
God, she was wrung out. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for Brandon to murmur words of reassurance, run his hands down her back and rock her gently.
He always knew what she needed.
She didn"t let go when Patrick entered the room, though the relaxing effects of Brandon"s embrace were lost. She watched Patrick warily, unsure what to think when he closed all the blinds, sealing them in and shutting out prying eyes.
It was an incredibly stupid thing for him to do, she was sure, but she didn"t protest.
He was a big boy. He could make his own bed and lie in it.
When he turned to look at her, he was the picture of concern and remorse. She had to close her eyes against it and how it tugged at her traitorous heart.
She should leave and spend some time away from these men. It was too fresh. Too painful.
Somehow, though, she couldn"t let go of Bran.
“He"s an idiot.” Brandon said softly, his mouth pressed to her hair.
“He told you?” Not that she was surprised. Her absence would have had to be explained this morning.
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“Yup,” Brandon answered.
She hung there, her feet barely skimming the ground, her arms clinging to Brandon"s neck. She wanted to rail at Patrick for saying what he"d said. Doing what he"d done. She wanted to rail at herself for being so relieved to have them both there with her.
At least she felt safe. Stupid. But safe.
She jumped when Patrick wrapped himself around her back, his arms banding around them both.
So damn safe.
Leaning back, she ignore
d the press of Patrick"s chest to her shoulder blades and looked up into Brandon"s bright green eyes. They were filled with compassion.
Wisdom. She remembered how Ethel used to say he was an old soul. Destiny could see it sometimes too.
“Will you come home with us?” he asked, watching her carefully.
“I can"t, Bran.” As much as she wanted to.
“Would you have come to stay with us at Ethel"s if this had happened and we weren"t all sleeping together?”
She had to think about that for a moment. Then she had to be honest. “Yes.”
“Why?” Brandon asked.
“Because you"re my best friends.”
“Do you trust us?” he asked gently.
“Of course I do.” More or less.
Brandon only continued to look at her, lifting one brow. She should have known he would be difficult and make her talk about this shit. He"d missed his calling as a shrink.
She sighed, resigned to explaining what Brandon already knew. Though, maybe Patrick would do well with a reminder. “Okay, I don"t trust the idiot behind me not to fuck up everything with all his romantic bullshit about love and forever and—” Brandon cut her off. “Let"s not talk about forever. Or happily ever after, or whatever crazy shit he was going on about.”
Patrick shifted behind her and she knew he was battling to keep his mouth shut.
She shared a little smile with Brandon. Irritating Patrick was always a favorite past time and today she couldn"t think of anything she wanted to do more.
“We"re still your friends, Des. Still just Brandon and Patrick.” Just Brandon and Patrick? It was laughable that he seemed to think they were harmless.
“And when one of us is in trouble, we turn to each other, right?” Brandon continued.
She shrugged. When she didn"t say anything, Brandon frowned.
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Damn it. She couldn"t deny Brandon. She hated the hurt look as it stole across his face.
“Fine. Yes. Always,” she conceded.
Brandon"s expression immediately cleared and he nodded, as if something had been decided. “Right. Always, including now.”
She grimaced, knowing where he was going and determined to stop him. “Things are different now.”
Brandon slipped his hands from between her back and Patrick"s belly. “Yes, they are. Now I can hardly draw a breath without wanting to touch you. Wanting to be touched by one of you.”
She gasped, heat and need roaring through her body when Brandon clutched Patrick"s hips, chasing him up against her ass more firmly. All three of their bodies rocked together, reminding her of what she could be sharing with them instead of another long night alone.
She shook her head, trying to keep it clear. It wasn"t easy. Her exhausted body cried out for them.
Freaking Brandon. He could talk a nun out of her habit and that was if she didn"t know how well he kissed, how incredible he tasted, how his hips could…
Damn.
It cost her dearly, but she pushed against Brandon, moving away from them both, leaving their soothing warmth.
They stayed where they were, looking at her with alarm.
“I"ll come home with you,” she offered, watching how they both sagged with relief.
“For now,” she added.
They glanced at each other quickly and she could guess what they were thinking.
“And,” she continued, stepping back when they reached for her at the same time,
“we aren"t sleeping together.”
Patrick looked disappointed, as she"d expected, but Brandon just laughed. She held her ground when he trailed a finger down her cheek.
“You can sleep anywhere you want, Destiny, but I"ll be curled up in that nice big warm bed with Patrick.”
The look Patrick sent Brandon was so hot it should have lit his hair on fire. Then Patrick turned those damn laser-beam blues on her.
She told herself to be resolute, even as her body begged her to relent. God, she wanted to relent.
Another stroke of Brandon"s finger brought her attention back to him. “Come on, Des. What could be better? What has ever been better? Three friends, one bed. It wasn"t a crazy idea, it was a great one.”
She remembered how mind-boggling great it had been, damn it.
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She just didn"t know if she had the guts to try it again. No amount of incredible sex was worth risking what little family she had.
Patrick drove his truck, fighting off the tension that had been riding him for hours, his eyes focused on Destiny"s BMW in front of him, carrying the two people he loved most in the world.
Jesus, he"d dodged a bullet.
Actually, it was more like Brandon had shoved his stupid ass out of the line of fire.
He"d never have been able to talk Destiny down from the ledge and back into their arms.
Every day he was getting a keener appreciation for Brandon"s talented mouth. In so many ways. In fact, he intended to appreciate the heck out of it as soon as they got home.
He started drifting into the next lane and shook his head, struggling to focus on something that would allow him to drive at the same time.
Brandon had said the right things to Destiny, soothing her while still being honest.
Listening to him, Patrick had felt more hope, more conviction than ever before that the three of them could work.
Best friends. Trust. One bed.
How did Destiny not know that was the perfect recipe for a happy marriage?
He sighed. How would she know? Her idiot parents had done an outstanding head job on her. She was scared and he couldn"t blame her. Then his big mouth had sent her running.
Happily ever after. He didn"t know when he"d started wanting it. Or why. But as soon as he had, he"d thought of Destiny even while acknowledging he had not one clue how he was going to get past her defenses.
Turned out his best weapon for that was Brandon.
It was hard to believe that a month ago he"d never kissed his best friend. Never spent more than a passing drunken moment wondering about it. Patrick"s heart beat a little faster when he remembered the night at the Blue Door and how far he"d run and fast he"d fallen since.
He was in love with both of his best friends. And he was bisexual.
The label felt strange, his first foray into not being what he"d always assumed was the default. But it didn"t matter, really. What mattered what how he felt and who he wanted, regardless of gender.
That it had taken him to long to figure these things out made him an idiot. But he was a hopeful idiot.
There was still a long road ahead with Destiny, but they had a tentative truce. She couldn"t deny it was safer if they stuck together. She also knew that if she insisted on 159
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going home, one of them would have gone with her, even if he had to sit outside her door. She was practical, if nothing else.
Though, the way she"d moaned when she"d been pressed between them in Sully"s office hadn"t sounded practical at all. She still wanted them. She might not understand what exactly she wanted from them, but she did want to be with them. She wouldn"t be driving to his house right now if she didn"t.
Destiny didn"t do anything she didn"t choose to do. Over the years, he"d watched the deep scars her parents" divorce had left harden into a thick shell. Hell, his willingness to come and go from her bed probably hadn"t helped. Guilt nipped at him, realizing the role he might have unwittingly played in making it easier for Destiny to keep everyone, including himself, at what she considered a safe distance.
There was no going back to change the past. It was the future he could shape. He and Brandon could teach her to love. To commit. They just had to make those things safe for her.
She was convinced her armor was impenetrable and permanent and he knew she needed to believe that. But he"d peeked beneath the surface many times over the years.
Destiny Matthews was
as tough as they come on the outside. But on the inside, she was a cream puff.
It was exactly why he loved her so damn much.
He just had to keep his mouth shut and start working on ways to climb inside that armor with her. For a time, he"d believed he"d have to peel it away, but now he knew better. To strip that away from her would leave her vulnerable and exposed. Instead, he and Brandon needed to find the cracks and wriggle their way right on underneath the shell.
Brandon had made headway on that today.
He watched Brandon"s silhouette lean over and kiss Destiny"s cheek while she drove. He hoped like hell that Brandon having worked so hard to bring Destiny home meant Brandon was planning to stick around. For the long haul.
Not that it was going to be easy if he did. Patrick knew he"d been stone-cold insane to close those blinds in Sully"s office today, no doubt setting off another round of gossip at the station, but he"d been beyond caring. He"d needed to hold them both. He"d needed to be sure he and Brandon could say or do whatever necessary to convince Destiny to return to them. Because she needed to be safe.
He knew he should be more careful, which meant keeping his distance from Brandon at work. The idea made him feel sick inside. He wished he had more options.
He wished he wasn"t afraid of the few that were available to him and what they would mean. And he really wished that he could pretend it wasn"t going to hurt Brandon at some point.
Still, Bran had fought to keep the three of them together. Would he stay forever?
Patrick honestly didn"t know, but he was encouraged when Brandon followed Des into her apartment and helped her pack up half her wardrobe. Jesus, with all the crap 160
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they lugged back down to his truck, she"d have to take over a closet in a guest room. No.
He"d move his shit to a guest room to make sure there was plenty of room for her in his room. Where she belonged.
Driving the distance between her apartment and his house, Patrick wondered if Destiny could see his huge fucking smile in her rearview mirror.
When they pulled in his driveway, Brandon and Destiny waited in her car while Patrick leapt from his truck and quietly ran up the back stairs. He and Brandon had agreed that for the time being, they took no chances. Three men had attacked Brandon the first time. Just because the Bobby Wilkinson had kicked the door in when he"d come calling, didn"t mean another one might not have more finesse and try to sneak up on them. That one of them had gotten so close to Destiny meant they had to be a hell of a lot more careful. Ready.
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