Destiny Calls Samantha Wayland (the first e reader .txt) 📖

And as if that wasn"t enough, Patrick wasn"t just going He-man on Destiny. He was also getting all hopped up on the need to protect Brandon, for Christ"s sweet sake, and somehow Brandon didn"t think that was going to play well at the office.

Jesus. How had they gotten it all so screwed up?

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Samantha Wayland

Brandon wasn"t even sure he should fix the mess they were in, let alone how he"d go about it. The issues weren"t small ones. Nothing simple like someone leaving the cap off the toothpaste or the toilet seat up in this relationship. No, instead he had taken on two lovers he was already inlove with and both brought a heap of baggage to the party.

Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and tried to look at it rationally.

Destiny"s baggage was the most complex and, he feared, the most formidable. She had long ago declared she would never want a long-term partner, let alone love. Patrick was just a comfortable retreat between dalliances. Or so she chose to believe.

He couldn"t blame her for shying away from what was right in front of her. He and Patrick had sat next to her in the courtroom gallery and watched her parents" divorce proceedings with horror, unable to protect her, helpless to do more than bring her home to Aunt Ethel and hope she saw the problem was her parents, not her. Never her.

Without another option, the courts had split her fifty-fifty and she"d spent the next four years shuttled between two people who were constantly trying to foist her off on the other. She"d ended up thinking of her parents" houses as a bed to sleep in and a roof over her head. Her real home had been with him and Patrick and Ethel.

It couldn"t be anything less than terrifying to Destiny to believe that any commitment would turn to ashes and a commitment to him and Patrick would ultimately take them away from her too.

Honestly, it made Brandon want to barf thinking about it too. The risks they were taking were enormous, the possible consequences devastating.

The idea that it was all a fun experiment had gone out the window the moment he"d touched them. Maybe before. In hindsight, his belief that he could find some measure of self-protection by withholding a part of himself was a joke.

And it was cowardly, since holding back was more likely to further muddy the waters than bring about Patrick"s mythic happily ever after.

Happily ever after. Ever since Patrick had said it, Brandon had been trying to figure out what the hell it meant. And how fucking scary was it that for the first time in his life, he thought he knew?

In spite of the issues, the gigantic clusterfuck in which they were trapped, the more he thought about Patrick and Destiny, about Aunt Ethel and the hours they had spent at her table forming their little family, the more he wanted it to work.

He"d always thought his spouse, man or woman, would be his best friend. Only now, for the life of him, he couldn"t figure out how he"d believed someone could ever take that role away from Destiny or Patrick.

When it came to dating, he"d been doomed from the start. At fifteen, he"d already found the people with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. His heart"s desire.

Christ on a crutch, he was as crazy as Patrick.

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But even fear for his own sanity couldn"t reverse the conviction. For the first time in his life, rather than spending energy on keeping some part of his heart safe from the people he loved, he wanted to put that energy into giving his whole heart to them. No matter how scary it was. Or how much it could hurt.

God help him, he was going to shoot for the moon. He was in love with Patrick and Destiny and he was going to do everything in his power to make it work.

It was a remarkably freeing thing, standing on the steps of the police station making plans that would shock everyone around him to the core of their beings. Because in the end, if it all went to shit, at least he"d know he"d done whatever he could. No regrets.

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