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

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, questioning 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.

But she knew one thing for certain. She trusted them. It wasn"t enough to make her believe in forever, but it was enough to make her want to take it a little further and see what happened.

They might have given her a reprieve last night, but she planned on keeping them up half the night tonight. Her body, every quivering nerve ending within it, demanded she find satisfaction.

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That her soul cried out equally as loud with the need to be near them wasn"t something she