Destiny Calls

by Samantha Wayland

  If Patrick had his way, searching the house would remain his job exclusively. He"d be damned if he"d let these assholes get the jump on Brandon ever again. But when he"d suggested as much to Bran, his friend had accused him of being a worrying old woman.

  Patrick wouldn"t give a shit what Brandon thought of his protectiveness, as long as it got the job done, but Patrick had seen the doubt in his friend"s eyes and knew Brandon was worried that Patrick no longer trusted in his ability to take care of himself.

  Which was bullshit.

  Brandon"s weakened confidence was just another reason Patrick wanted to catch these assholes and kick their asses.

  As soon as Patrick eased open his back door, Farley greeted him, his tail wagging, tongue lolling with happiness at having company. Patrick knew no one was in the house if the dog was so unconcerned, but they had to be certain. Letting Farley out, Patrick sent his dog to safety, watching him bound to Destiny"s car. Brandon opened his door and the big doofus dog jumped right into the front seat with them. Brandon closed the door again, but not before Patrick heard Destiny"s shriek of protest at having a sixty-pound dog shedding all over her dark suit.

  Patrick locked eyes with Brandon, who nodded his understanding before sending Farley into the back seat. Patrick closed the door to the kitchen, pulled his gun and worked his way through the house, searching each room. Finding nothing disturbed, he returned to the kitchen and out to the driveway to begin lugging all of Destiny"s stuff into the house.

  By the time they"d each made three trips up the stairs, Destiny was flagging badly.

  She"d confessed that she"d not slept at all the night before, thanks to his big mouth and her panic attack. She literally staggered on her feet in the kitchen while trying to find something to eat.

  He couldn"t stand to watch her dragging herself around another minute, so he swung her up into his arms.

  She squeaked, hooking an arm around his neck. “Put me down, Patrick.”

  “No.”

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  She opened her mouth to protest again but he turned toward the front hall and the stairs up to their room. “You need to get into bed and relax,” he informed her.

  She frowned. “I need to eat. All I"ve had today is one stinking Starbucks mocha.”

  “I"ll bring something to you,” Brandon called from behind them, the sound of a pan hitting the stove issuing from the kitchen. “One Hangover Special coming right up!” Destiny and Patrick smiled at each other. Brandon had never been hungover in his life, the bastard, so he always had the thankless job of nursing them back to health after their more ill-advised adventures. The Hangover Special was just a grilled cheese sandwich, but it sounded like heaven right now.

  “Put me down, Patrick,” Destiny said more quietly as he strode toward the stairs.

  He stopped and searched her face, looking for signs that she wasn"t comfortable with the intimacy. He didn"t know how far this reconciliation had brought them.

  “Why?”

  “Because I"m too heavy for you to carry up the damn stairs, that"s why,” she said with exasperation.

  Destiny had always worried about her size, though he and Brandon had never understood why. She was curvy and fit and lush and if she lost a pound, Patrick would miss it. “No.”

  When she started to push away from him, squirming in his arms, he tightened his grip.

  “If you keep that up, we"re both going to fall down the stairs and break our necks,” he warned her.

  She wasn"t deterred. Sighing, Patrick let her slide down his body, her feet landing on the bottom step. Before she could turn, though, he bent and tossed her over his shoulder. Her screech echoed throughout the house. Patrick smiled, spanking her ass once, hard, her outrage getting louder.

  “Put me down, you freaking idiot!”

  “No,” he said again, banding an arm around her thighs to hold her still.

  Unfortunately, it wasn"t the first time he or Brandon had forced a fireman"s carry on Destiny, so she knew just what to do to get revenge.

  He winced when she pinched his ass cheek hard, but he wasn"t going to give in and started up the stairs. He heard footsteps behind them and turned to Brandon. Brandon"s smile was wide, the little lines at the corners of his eyes fanning out. Patrick"s heart stuttered.

  Damn. How had he never noticed how freaking hot Brandon was? In hindsight, it was a complete mystery.

  With a wink for Bran, he smacked Destiny"s bottom again and went up the stairs quickly. He was going to have bruises all over his ass from her pinches, but it only made him laugh. God, he loved having them both home with him.

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  Tossing Destiny down on his bed, he watched her surreptitiously as he plucked off her shoes and reached for the tops of her stockings. He kept his demeanor nonchalant, as casual as a man could be while stripping off a beautiful woman"s stockings. As if it was no big deal. If she showed even the slightest moment of fear or hesitation, he would back off.

  Destiny just sighed and flopped back on the bed. It wasn"t sexual, though he had to tell his cock that every three seconds as he peeled the silky hose down her legs. She was obviously exhausted and appeared content to let him pamper her.

  It was another good sign. He"d been afraid she"d be more skittish.

  When her legs were bare, she sat up to shuck her jacket and pull the zipper down on the side of her skirt. She moved to climb off the bed, but Patrick pushed her back and helped her wriggle the skirt down and off.

  He loved to take care of her like this. He"d never realized before now how much.

  Down to only her thong and a silk blouse, her hair spread out around her on the bedspread, she looked lovely. Soft and feminine. Tired. He watched as her eyes drooped as she started to nod off.

  “Oh no, you don"t,” he laughed, pulling her upright. Turning down the bedding, he stacked pillows in the middle of the headboard and helped her settle against them.

  “Patrick, I need sleep,” she said with a yawn.

  “You do, love, but if you don"t eat, you"ll be up in a few hours.” The words has no sooner left his mouth when Brandon came into the room bearing a stack of plates, the topmost loaded with toasted sandwiches, his pockets stuffed with a can of Diet Coke and two bottles of beer.

  Patrick helped him unload, distracted by the look Brandon sent him as he tugged the beverages out of Brandon"s pants. Blood rushed to his cock. He shook himself as he turned away, reminding himself that Destiny needed to eat and Brandon wasn"t on the menu.

  Yet.

  Brandon climbed on the bed facing Destiny and sat with his back to the footboard.

  Patrick followed suit. They ate and chatted companionably about nothing important.

  As soon as she took her last bite, Brandon cleared away the remains of their supper.

  It was barely seven o"clock, but it was bedtime for Destiny.

  Patrick followed Brandon to the kitchen, calling Farley to follow. By silent agreement they left the dishes in the sink. Patrick walked Farley in the backyard, depriving the poor beast of his usual jaunt around the neighborhood. Until they resolved whatever the hell was going on, no one was going to wander too far from the house alone. As it was, Brandon stood on the back stoop, his head cocked to listen to the night, his hand resting on his gun at his hip.

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  Patrick couldn"t remember the last time he"d not locked his sidearm in his safe the moment he arrived home from work. Sighing, he supposed it would be a while before he did so again.

  Farley"s business accomplished, they returned to the house. He and Brandon walked all the rooms again, this time double-checking windows, closing blinds and curtains, bolting doors. Brandon didn"t say a word when Patrick jammed a chair under each doorknob. The bad guys had kicked in a door once, he wasn"t going to make it easy for them to do it again.

  The house was as secure as they could get it and there was an unmarked police
car on the street. He told himself to relax. He briefly considered asking Brandon if he wanted to watch some television, but he couldn"t see past his need to be with Destiny.

  He hoped to permanently squash the panic that had been nipping at him since Brandon had woken him up that morning and told him Destiny was gone. He wanted to hold her. He needed to hold them both.

  Patrick didn"t look to see Brandon"s reaction when he took Brandon"s hand and led him up the stairs, calling Farley as they went. Brandon followed without resistance and that was enough. Trudging through the door to his bedroom, they found Destiny sitting up, sound asleep, exactly as they"d left her.

  He and Brandon shared a smile and approached opposite sides of the bed. He retrieved the half-full can of Diet Coke from her fingers while Brandon gently stroked his hand down her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open.

  She was bleary-eyed. Hardly able to stay awake long enough to sit up. When she opened her mouth to speak, Bran shushed her. She immediately subsided.

  Patrick carefully pulled her blouse up and over her head, her arms going up without protest. He suppressed a chuckle when she unselfconsciously disposed of her bra and threw it at Brandon"s head. Her eyes were closed once more, so it was hard to tell if she"d done it on purpose. Brandon grinned, the bra draped over his shoulder as they bent over Destiny from either side of the bed. They each kissed a cheek, helping her slide deeper under the covers and tucking them around her.

  She was asleep again before they straightened up.

  Patrick stripped to his boxer briefs in a matter of seconds, sneaking glances at Brandon as he did the same. Climbing into the bed on either side of Destiny, they crawled under the covers. Before Brandon could settle down, Patrick grasped his shoulder. With Destiny dead-to-the-world beneath them, he pulled Brandon over her and kissed him lightly. Once. Twice. Their lips meeting and rubbing gently for a few minutes, then parting with a last soft peck.

  “Good night,” he whispered.

  Brandon smiled. “Good night.”

  The moment Brandon slid down under the covers, Destiny rolled toward him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder, her leg hooked over his belly. Patrick curled around her back, spooning her from neck to hips. He brought his leg up to cup her bare 164

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  bottom and slid his knee across Brandon"s thighs, his arm wrapping around her ribs and coming to rest on Brandon"s chest. It jumped beneath his fingers and Patrick nudged his leg higher, gently pressing Brandon"s erection between his thigh and Destiny"s.

  Brandon whimpered.

  Patrick fell asleep with a smile on his face.

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  Chapter Fifteen

  Destiny turned into the driveway at Aunt Ethel"s house and rolled to a stop, leaving the car in neutral and the engine running. Patrick parked his truck in the space next to her. She didn"t bother to protest when Brandon, who had retrieved her from her cage at work, jumped from the car and told her to stay put. She was starting to know the drill without having to be instructed.

  Always ready for a quick escape. Always looking over her shoulder. Never going anywhere without one of the guys.

  Though the last part wasn"t so bad, really.

  She watched as Brandon pulled his side arm and tried to keep her blood pressure somewhere below the stratosphere. It was just routine. He was going to search the house, just as Patrick had the night before.

  It was sad state of affairs when having to search your own home with a loaded weapon was routine.

  She only jumped a little when Patrick opened the door and fell into the passenger seat. He left one foot on the ground, ready to bolt after Brandon or take off for the police station with her, depending on the circumstances. They"d coached her on what to do, what number to call, who to talk to, what route to take. Just in case.

  Perfectly routine.

  Who was she kidding? Her life was being turned upside-down.

  Brandon had gone to work with her this morning and spoken to her building security. It was normally a perfectly secure building and her company was on a floor that was only accessible with a key card. She was as safe as she could get, she figured, and she had promised not to leave her company"s offices.

  Had it been enough for the boys? Nope. She"d been furious when they"d insisted on telling her boss and the receptionist what was going on. It had taken Brandon, in that calm freaking way of his, explaining it a hell of a lot more clearly than Patrick had done, for her to understand it was for everyone"s protection. They didn"t think whoever was harassing them would have the balls to try to approach her at work again, but they had to be sure.

  They always had to be sure.

  So here she sat, watching as Brandon passed into the kitchen. He let Farley out to find them. The poor dog paused long enough to water a rhododendron before bounding over to the car. Patrick pushed his door wider to let Farley jump in.

  She was going to have to get the damn thing detailed to get rid of all the hair.

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  With a gentle nudge and willing acceptance of a slobbery kiss, Destiny urged Farley into the back seat.

  The minutes crawled by, each one slower than the first. There was no movement from within the house that she could see. No sounds.

  What the hell was taking Brandon so long? The image of his bruised body laid out on the hospital gurney popped into her head and she forced it back. He was fine.

  He had to be fine.

  Patrick glanced at his watch for the fifth time, his leg bouncing, and Destiny put her foot on the clutch and the car in reverse. If he stayed with her or jumped out, she was ready to do what was needed. She fingered her cell phone in the cup holder by the gearshift and listened to her pounding heart.

  She almost screamed when the back door flew open and Brandon jogged out, his gun holstered and a smile on his face.

  Patrick was out of the car so fast, she was grateful her door remained attached. He slammed it behind him and she turned off the engine, following quickly.

  “You took forever in there! Christ!” Patrick yelled, charging toward Brandon.

  Destiny came around the nose of her car in time to see Brandon"s smile falter.

  “I"m sorry,” he said quickly. “I—” he tried to explain, but Patrick jerked him close, nearly taking him off his feet. Brandon"s eyes widened, then Patrick claimed his lips in a hard kiss.

  It was kind of funny to watch Brandon hang limp in Patrick"s arms for a moment.

  Then he pulled himself together and started kissing Patrick back. And there they were, right in full view of the neighbors, Destiny thought as she let Farley out of the back seat, and it really didn"t matter.

  For good form she searched the immediate area and didn"t see anyone. She knew the unmarked police car was farther down the street and couldn"t see them by the back porch. She was sure Brandon and Patrick knew it too, which was why they were playing tonsil hockey and not walking into the house at whatever appropriate distance fellow officers kept while pretending they didn"t want to have their hands all over each other.

  Brandon"s deep groan vibrated through her body. The boys put on one hell of a show. Though, maybe the rest of the world wouldn"t find it as fascinating as she did.

  Arousal slipped from her swelling body, easing down to coat her thighs.

  It was, all in all, a good ending to a long day.

  She"d spent the better part of one of the most unproductive work days of her career sitting at her desk trying to avoid her coworkers. After Brandon had spoken with her boss and Amy, the receptionist, word had gotten out and spread fast, creating a hive of curiosity at the office. Hell, people had just happened to walk past her office all day, sometimes ten or twenty times apiece, and each time they peered through her window like she was some kind of car wreck.

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  Which wasn"t far from the truth.

  She"d spent the morning doubting herself, quest
ioning if she should have relented and come back to Ethel"s house. Or more to the point, returned to these men. Standing in the driveway watching them linger over their kiss, enjoying each other thoroughly, she understood what she"d been too stubborn to admit to herself earlier that day—and really, most of her life.

  This was where she belonged.

  The surge of fear reminded her that her hard-won acceptance of this fact was still a work in progress. It was big. And scary.

  Taking a deep breath, she shook off the nerves, repeating the mantra she"d developed that morning.

  It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.

  But how?

  Her overactive imagination had passed the hours creating countless scenarios to predict how the end would come about, each making her sick with worry. After an entire morning of torturing herself, she"d been forced to admit she craved something she"d never in her life believed she"d want.

  Forever.

  As Patrick liked to say, it was a hell of a thing.

  She wished it was possible. God, she really did. But unlike Patrick, she knew that wanting it wasn"t enough to make it true. Wanting her parents to love her, an expectation she later in life came to accept as having been a reasonable one, hadn"t been enough to make it happen. Loving them hadn"t made them love her. Or want to stay with her.

  That grim truth was hard to forget.

  The boys broke apart with a gasp, drawing her from her maudlin thoughts. They stood staring at each other, panting and practically holding each other up.

  Good lord, they were hot.

  Regardless of her misgivings, her ridiculous, impossible longings, she was desperate to return to where they"d left off. It was probably the single most insane thing she"d ever considered doing, but today it felt good to be a little kamikaze. To be a little alive and free. Maybe spending an entire day locked in her office, unable to leave the building, had made her stir-crazy. Or just plain crazy.