Destiny Calls by Samantha Wayland (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📗

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.

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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.

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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