When the Dead Speak Bailey Bradford (books on motivation txt) 📖

words that made Brendon want to break the cardinal don’t-hit-a-woman rule. Instead, he flicked a glance at Zeke and Laine as they made their way closer then turned in his seat, as much as he was able, and looked at the man who’d spoken.

Definitely attractive, definitely not his type, either. Zeke was exactly his type. This man had large, startling pale green eyes that were offset by the soft brown color of his skin and Brendon had no problem admitting the contrast between skin and eyes was stunning. He winked one of those gorgeous eyes at Brendon and grinned.

“So, is he?”

Brendon felt one of his eyebrows winging up his forehead. “Is which he what?”

The man’s laugh almost sounded musical. “Let’s go with is he running around on you?” The man laughed again, but his eyes seemed to be asking the other question. Brendon shook his head. He wouldn’t discuss Laine’s sexuality with anyone other than the man himself—and Zeke, of course.

“Why would he give this up? The man’s not stupid.” Brendon stood and stepped over to the man’s table, offering his hand. “I’m Brendon Shanahan, and the man with the cane is my partner, Zeke. I’ll introduce you when he gets here.”

The man slid from his seat and Brendon hoped he didn’t look as surprised as he felt. The guy was smaller than he’d seemed with his deep voice and big personality. Maybe only five-six or seven.

“Severo Adulio Robledo,” he said, shaking Brendon’s hand firmly. “Everyone here so friendly?” His gaze flickered over the sneering waitress standing at the register before finding Brendon’s as their handshake ended.

“I’m still trying to sort out who is and who isn’t, but there’s been some history of hate crimes.” Brendon turned when the bell fastened to the door tinkled and watched as his lover and Laine made their way into the café.

“Is that what happened to your partner?” Severo’s voice was a low rumble. Brendon looked back at him and watched the man finger a silver necklace that had been hidden by his collar. Severo wasn’t looking at Brendon as he spoke, and if Brendon wasn’t mistaken, he wasn’t looking at Zeke, either.

“Something like that,” Brendon murmured, trying to gauge Severo’s line of sight. It was, he mused, latched onto one very big sheriff. Interesting. This should be fun.

Except it wasn’t, because Severo was tossing some bills down on his table and striding past Brendon.

“Another time, perhaps,” Severo offered with a faint smile and a subtle glance at Laine, then the smaller man made his way to the register.

Very interesting, indeed. Zeke and Laine made their way over to Brendon and Severo slipped out of the door with a tinkle of the bell.

* * * *

Severo had to press a hand to his chest, his heart was beating so rapidly. He risked a quick peek over his shoulder and saw the sheriff taking a seat with Brendon and his partner. What the hell was wrong with him, getting all fluttery and flustered like some chittering virgin? Severo’s shoulder smacked into a lamppost and he turned back to watch where he was going before he did some serious damage to himself. Geez. At least the big, sexy sheriff hadn’t seen that. Severo would prefer not to come across as a klutz in front of the man.

Not that it should matter. He wouldn’t let it matter—he hadn’t come here looking for a fuck. Severo didn’t know why he had come here, except that he’d been told to, nagged until he’d packed his things and taken the bus to this dinky Texas town. Now, here he was with no idea why he was here, not a single clue, and the only thing that stirred him, spoke to him, was the tall, lean man who’d been helping Brendon’s partner—Zeke, that’s his name, and he has a guardian. Maybe he’s why I’m here? It didn’t feel right. Severo was sure the reason he’d been led here didn’t have anything to do with Zeke or Brendon. Who, or what, then?

Zeke disappeared from Severo’s mind as the image of the sheriff rushed to the forefront. He’d tried his best not to stare, and had ended up devouring the man with his eyes. First as he had spotted the man helping Zeke to the café, then as he’d stood talking to Brendon, and yet again, as Severo had paid his bill.

He couldn’t not look at the man. The sheriff was long and built just right, not too muscular but definitely ripped, at least a foot taller than Severo—not his usual type at all. He’d never cared to feel smaller than he already was, or like his lovers could easily overpower him. The sheriff could, of that Severo had no doubt, but as he’d taken in the man’s sexy body, the sharp angles of his cheeks and the quicksilver flash of his eyes, it wasn’t the sheriff’s physical strength had had scared the crap out of Severo. No, it had been the fact that Sev sensed something wounded about the man, the strength and intelligence mingled with pain that called to Severo, that whispered into his ear this man can shatter you.

Severo didn’t want to be shattered, didn’t want to risk any kind of emotional pain. For this reason, he had always kept his affairs brief and light-hearted, a mutual understanding of hey, this is fun and it feels good, that’s all it’s gonna be. He didn’t doubt that sex with the man would be phenomenal, though he didn’t think it would be something as trite and shallow as fun. Nothing that simple.

There was a reason he didn’t play around with men like the sheriff. They were too intense and wanted too much from a lover. They didn’t play. Men like that, they demanded everything from a lover, and sometimes, they even gave as much as they took. It was too deep, too dangerous, and too permanent for someone who went from place to place whenever the whim hit him.