Fighting for your heart’s desires is always worth the
hardship.

After injury forces Brendan Gateman to stop playing pro
football, he falls back on his physical education and teaching
degrees and begins coaching high school ball. Settling into a
new town and hanging with his defensive coordinator, Dan
Roper, Brendan finally feels like his life is back on track. His
only regret is that the fear of losing not only his new life but
his family forces him to remain deep in the closet. Still, he
has two of the three things people always want out of life,
and that’s enough for him. At least, that’s what he thinks
until he meets paramedic Randy Coughlan. The out and
proud man makes Brendan start rethinking his choices.
When problems in Randy’s life forces the man to make some
tough choices, will Brendan’s insecurities make him walk
away? Or will he step up and become the man he never
thought possible but always wanted to be?

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infringement, including infringement without monetary
gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to
5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and
do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of
copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights
is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

Three Point Tuck

ISBN: 978-1-77111-788-3

Cover art by Angela Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the
reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part
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Three Point Tuck

Carry Me: Book Three

Charlie Richards

Dedication

To those who enjoy curling up in front of the fire with a good book.

Chapter One

rendan Gateman watched the first few players on his
football team finish up the mile run. Four teenagers

jogged over to him and stopped, two resting their hands on
their knees while the other two placed their hands on their
hips, all of them panting heavily.

Looking down the track, Brendan watched as dozens of

boys rounded the last bend of the track and trickled in. He
walked between them, critiquing their level of physical
fitness. The team’s defensive coordinator, Dan Roper,
strolled beside him.

These first couple weeks of practice would help them get

a read not only on how in shape the boys had remained over
the summer, but also on their attitude and how they worked
together. Brendan and Dan would compare notes at the end
of each day and work up possible line-ups. He’d asked the
other man not to tell him about any of the players returning
from last year as he didn’t want to become biased over
preconceived notions. Plus, Brendan wanted to be fair. He
didn’t want to hand a teen a position just because they’d
played it the prior year.

Glancing at Dan, Brendan caught the guy’s scowl and the

slight shake of his head. He hid a grimace, probably coming
up with the same conclusion Dan had. Most of the teens
hadn’t maintained any sort of physical fitness program over
the summer, and it showed. Their stamina sucked.

“Everyone down,” Brendan hollered. “I want twenty

pushups, now!”

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Many of the boys groaned, but all of them obeyed, albeit

some much slower than others. Brendan and Dan walked
among them, fixing their form as they pressed out the
twenty required pushups.

Brendan knew it wouldn’t make him popular, but after

the pushups, he led the players through an intense circuit of
squat-thrusts, jumping jacks, lunges, and wind sprints. He
ignored the grumbles, but made note of who was loudest.

“What the hell is this?” a blond haired, blue eyed boy

grumbled. “Boot camp? I thought we were here to play
ball.”

Brendan checked his list to verify the guy’s name—Cory

Reed, incoming senior, last year’s running back. Hmm, he’d
be one to watch.

“Shut up,” another teen snapped back. This one was

tall—maybe six foot three—a leanly muscular African
American with a shaved head and dark eyes. “Sooner we get
this shit done, sooner we get to play.”

Damn, when did teenagers start looking and speaking so much

like adults? Another check of Brendan’s clipboard revealed
the player was Tony Arnett, one of last year’s first string
wide receivers and also an incoming senior.

“Trying to suck up to the new coach?” Cory sneered.
Tony somehow managed to roll his eyes while executing

a perfectly formed squat-thrust. “Just wanna be able to
breathe. Now shut up,” Tony replied.

Cory actually listened to his friend, although a scowl

stayed on his face as he continued with his exercises.

Other grumbles caught Brendan’s attention, and he

moved on. One guy complained about the lunges, saying
they could damage his knees. Watching the broad-
shouldered, dark-haired teen, Brendan figured he was
probably right. He headed that way and tapped the teen’s
shoulder, getting his attention.

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“Drew, right?” Brendan confirmed.
The teen looked nervously at his buddies, then nodded.

“Yeah, coach.”

Brendan wondered if he’d ever get used to hearing that.

Maybe after a couple years, but certainly not in his first
semester. “Don’t allow your knee past your toes. You could
hurt yourself. Do it like this.” He did the lunge properly a
couple times, then straightened. “Try again.”

When Drew did it this time, although it was executed

more slowly, he got the form right. At the teen’s questioning
expression, obviously looking for reassurance, Brendan
nodded. “That’s the way,” he encouraged. “We want your
legs in shape, not injured.” He patted him on the shoulder,
then moved away.

Brendan heaved a sigh and slumped in his office chair.

Fatigue flooded his body. All he wanted to do was crawl
home, shower, drink a beer, and sprawl on the couch in
front of some mindless television.

Dan laughed as he flopped onto the couch near the wall.

“You didn’t think this was going to be easy, did you?”

“Ugh,” Brendan grunted. “Of course not.” He grinned.

“Anyone who thinks working with thirty-five kids is easy, is
insane.”

“You got that right.” Dan grinned and cocked his head as

he eyeballed him. “You’re good with them, though.”

Snorting, Brendan replied, “I ought to be, what with

helping raise four younger brothers.”

“Geez, four? You’re one of five?” Dan leaned forward, his

eyes wide in his deeply tanned face. He rubbed a hand over
the back of his neck, then ruffled his short, black hair. His
expression turned curious. “Helping raise? Can I, uh…can I
ask what you mean?”

Charlie Richards

Surprise flooded Brendan at the guy’s seemingly reserved

attitude. He hadn’t known him long, having moved to town
only a month before to take the position of physical
education teacher and head football coach. They also hadn’t
really shared much personal information. Guess it’s time to
change that. Although there were some things Brendan had
every intention of keeping secret, his family wasn’t one of
them.

Brendan leaned forward, rested his elbows on the desk,

and grinned. “Yeah. Five boys. My Pops sure had his hands
full.” He winked.

“Your Pops?”
From his co-worker’s chagrined expression, Brendan

figured Dan probably hadn’t meant to say that. He nodded.
“Yeah, my father, Arnold Gateman. Hey, you seem
uncomfortable. We don’t have to talk about this, ya know?”
He shrugged. “If you wanna keep it completely professional,
I understand.”

Dan leaned back, dropping his hands to his thighs.

“Sorry. I…well, Coach Kimble, the fella you replaced, he
wasn’t much on sharing personal information,” he admitted.
“He, uh, loved his job working with kids, but for some
reason, he didn’t do so well with adults.”

“Wow, that had to be tough, working with someone like

that,” Brendan replied. He couldn’t imagine alienating
everyone that way.

Dan shrugged. “Ya got used to it. He’d been here almost

thirty years and was good at his job. He just didn’t want to
see anyone outside work. That was all. Kept his personal life
just that, personal.”

“Well, I don’t know anyone around here, and would

much rather not be quite so formal. Think you’ll be okay
with that?” Brendan asked.

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Grinning, Dan nodded. “You, Mr. Gateman, are a

welcome change.”

Brendan curved the left corner of his mouth up into a half

smile. He wondered if Dan would feel that way if— Brendan
lurched to his feet. “In the spirit of getting to know my
coworker, I suggest we move this to someplace a little more
comfortable.” He grabbed his jacket and headed around the
desk. “There’s a pub on fourth, three blocks over. I’ve been
meaning to see if their beer on tap is as good as they claim.
What do you say?”

“Heck, yeah,” Dan said, rising, “Now that sounds like an

awesome plan.”

Thirty minutes later, they were sequestered in a booth—

potato skins and hot wings ordered—a dark pint in front of
Brendan and a light one in front of Dan. Brendan wrapped a
hand around his beer and looked around the dim interior of
the pub. “Not bad,” he murmured, taking in the Irish décor.
“I like it.”

Dan snickered. “Got a thing for Irish pubs, Brendan?”
“Not really,” Brendan replied, then lifted his mug. “But I

like their beer.”

Laughing, Dan lifted his own mug, his brown eyes

twinkling. They clinked their glasses, then Brendan
swallowed a large swig. The bitter brew slid down his
throat, quenching his thirst. “So,” he said. “My Pops raised
five boys.” He lifted a hand before Dan could cut in. “It goes
me, Devon, Carmen, Peter, and Nick. We were a rowdy
bunch.” He smiled, thinking of all the pranks they’d played
on each other.

“You’re close with your brothers.”
It wasn’t a question, but Brendan nodded anyway. “Yep.”
“And your father?”

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“Yes,” Brendan replied. “We couldn’t have asked for a

more supportive father.” He snickered. “I think he might
have been more upset about my injury than I was.”

“The one that ended your football career?” Dan looked

over and winked at the waitress. “Are those for us?”

The slender blonde giggled, actually giggled, as she

replied, “Yes, sir. Your potato skins and wings. Is there
anything else I can get you?”

Brendan just barely resisted the urge to snort. Who would

have guessed that his defensive coordinator would be such a
ladies man? Maybe if he was lucky, it’d be easy to play off
any women who approached him on his new friend.

Dan glanced at Brendan, who shook his head. Between

the skins, the wings, and the beer, he was just dandy. Dan
grinned at the waitress and replied, “No, we’re good,
darlin’.”

Holly, according to the nametag, smiled in obvious

flirtation. “Well, if you need anything else, you just give me
a holler.”

“I’ll do that,” Dan replied with another wink. As she

walked away, he blatantly ogled her ass. When he finally
returned his focus to Brendan, his brows shot up. “What?”

Unable to hide it any longer, Brendan narrowed his eyes a

bit as he shook his head. “I’m assuming you’re single,
because otherwise I’ll have to give you a disapproving
look.”

Dan’s brows shot up, clearly surprised.
Brendan grimaced. “Damn, I guess I need to explain

that,” he muttered.

Slowly, his dinner companion’s brows lowered. “Okay, so

explain,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“Infidelity is a touchy point for me,” Brendan admitted.

“My mother cheated on my pops. When Nick was three, she

Three Point Tuck

left us to be with her much younger lover.” Frowning, he
snarled, “It wasn’t her first time.”

“Wow, man, sorry,” Dan murmured.
Brendan grimaced and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I

shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Naw, man,” Dan replied. He reached over and smacked

his arm. “I hit a nerve. I get that. It happens to the best of
us.” Dan smiled encouragingly. “Plus, I can put your mind
at ease,” he added. “I am a single, heterosexual male with a
healthy appetite.” Grinning, he added, “But don’t worry. I
never miss a minute of my allowed time with Luke. I
wouldn’t trade time with my son for the world.”

Brendan lifted a brow and glanced toward Dan’s left

hand. “And the ring?” he asked casually, pointing for just a
second before grabbing for a chicken wing.

Dan chuckled. “Observant,” he commented.
Lifting a shoulder, Brendan didn’t bother to reply.
“It’s a habit,” Dan admitted after swallowing a bite of

potato skin. “It’s like putting on my watch, my belt, or
pocketing my cell phone. I just always grab it.” He lifted his
gaze and met Brendan’s eyes. “I was married for six years,
been divorced for just over a year. I have one son, Luke, and
I get him every other weekend, plus every Thursday
evening. I love the weekends when I get him for three days,”
he admitted. “At six years old, he’s growing so fast.”

“I can imagine,” Brendan replied. He found his pulse

slowing. He hadn’t realized how disappointed he’d felt
upon thinking Dan would cheat on his wife. Nothing shot
down his estimate of a person faster than that. “You still on
good terms with your ex?”

Dan nodded. “Pretty good. We just…fell out of love, ya

know?”

Brendan didn’t really know, he’d never been in love, but

he nodded anyway.

Charlie Richards

“It was pretty surreal, really. She sat me down one day

and said she’d wondered when we’d turned into friends
instead of lovers. I almost denied it, but then I stopped and
realized it’d been over a year since we’d actually had sex.”
Dan snorted and shook his head. “Longest dry spell I’d had
since learning what to do with my dick at sixteen,” he
admitted.

Brendan chuckled, finding Dan’s words crass, but they

explained effectively.

“Anyway,” Dan continued, “We talked about the pros

and cons of staying together for the sake of our son and in
the end decided a slow separation would be best. We
divided our bank account, our assets, our stuff, and spent
more and more time with Luke on separate outings. It took a
little over a year for me to be staying at my own apartment
permanently. At that point, the divorce had been finalized
for over six months.” He snorted. “We did, however, hold
off dating other people until a few months ago. We wanted
Luke to get used to the idea slowly.” He shrugged. “He
seems to be doing just fine with it.”

“Wow,” Brendan mumbled. “That’s…that’s really

civilized.”

Dan shrugged. “Not every divorce is a bloodbath.”
Brendan sighed. “I get that.”
“You’re too young to be this jaded, Brendan,” Dan teased,

though his brows seemed to crease in concern.

Giving Dan a cocky grin, Brendan quipped, “Not jaded,

just a realist.”

Dan glanced toward the waitress then cast a sly look at

him. “We’ll just have to find you a nice girl to mellow you
out.”

Just what I don’t need, another person trying to set me up.

Brendan forced a chuckle. “Why don’t you let me relax into

Three Point Tuck

my job first, huh? I’ve been in town all of a month. My
condo still looks like a war zone.”

Laughing, Dan looked like he was going to argue. To

Brendan’s relief, the man nodded and said, “All right, all
right. Let’s talk about what you thought of the boys this
week.”

Brendan mentally heaved a sigh of relief—even though he

hadn’t planned to work anymore that night. He pulled his
notebook out of his satchel. “Sounds like a plan.”

Charlie Richards

Chapter Two

andy Coughlan strode swiftly from the hospital, more
than ready for the day to end. Ten minutes. If they

could avoid a call for ten minutes, he’d be able to go home
and sleep for a full eight hours. Then, he’d have to get up
and do it all over again.

At least, he’d been able to avoid bumping into Cameron.

Doctor Myron Cameron Booker. Damn, I know better than to fuck
around where I work. Why the hell did I allow my dick to override
my better judgment? Right, it’d been too long since he’d been
laid, he’d had one too many beers, and he’d listened to
Cameron’s assurances that it was just two guys scratching an
itch and it wouldn’t get weird.

Wrong!
“You ready to head back to the station?” asked Wade

Sloan, his fellow paramedic who fell into step beside him.

Nodding, Randy continued to their rig. As they finished

up some paperwork and inventoried their equipment, he
watched the minutes tick down. Sighing with relief, he gave
his partner a wry smile.

Wade returned the look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Shit, yeah.” Randy climbed into the passenger seat and,

after clicking his safety belt in place, rubbed a palm over his
face. Normally, he loved his job, but when his first call was
to a multi-car accident where they lost one patient and the
other was still in critical condition, follow that up with a

Three Point Tuck

pick-up for a diabetes patient, and it should have gotten
better. Instead, Randy had run into Cameron, and he’d had
to endure an awkward conversation about how he didn’t
have time to meet up with the doctor this weekend. The next
time he’d made it in that afternoon, Cameron had glared
daggers at him. At least he’d missed him this time.

Now, Randy just wanted to be left alone to sleep for those

promised eight hours. “A shower, dinner, and sleep…in that
order.”

“I hear ya. Been a while since we had a day like that.”

Wade chuckled.

One thing could be said for his partner and friend, not

much got Wade down. His perspective was continually
dialed into the sunny side of life.

“Hey, don’t forget we’re the volunteers for this Friday’s

game.”

Randy frowned, trying to get his tired brain to function

enough to allow him to understand to what Wade referred.
Game?

“You didn’t forget, did you?” Wade smacked him on the

thigh. “High school football, remember? It’s the first game of
the season.”

Groaning, Randy rested his head against the back seat.

“Right, yeah.”

He’d let Wade talk him into joining the volunteer

paramedics that monitored the local high school’s football
games. For some reason, being teenagers made them more
prone to accident instead of less. He didn’t have to work that
Friday, so at least he’d be well rested for tolerating a game
he didn’t enjoy.

Why did I agree again? Right, because Wade’s a manipulative

son-of-a-bitch.

“What time is it at?”

Charlie Richards

“The game starts at seven, but we need to be there thirty

minutes early to set up and make sure we have everything to
cover all our bases,” Wade advised.

Randy nodded. His friend had volunteered last year and

touted how much fun it’d been. Most of the time there
hadn’t been injuries, so he’d had a blast shooting the shit
with some of the other guys and watching the game.

“Our boys have a new head coach this year. I hope he’s

up to the task,” Wade commented idly.

“New coach?” Randy asked, curious. Who had been the

last one? Hell if he knew.

“Coach Brendan Gateman is the new coach. From what I

heard, he rode a football scholarship in college and was even
drafted by the NFL. His senior year, he blew out his knee.
Really fucked it up,” Wade stated, shaking his head.

Randy cringed at the words. It didn’t matter what the

injury even was. If Wade said it was bad, it must have been
bad.

Wade eased the vehicle left through a busy intersection,

then continued. “They red-shirted Brendan for a year and
put him through a shit-load of physical therapy.
Unfortunately, in his second year, a nasty tackle made a
mess of it again, so he decided to retire.”

Randy wondered if Wade was speaking English. His

buddy knew better than to talk football with him. Sure, he
said he’d volunteer, but that didn’t mean he was actually
going to pay attention to more than the health of the athletes
playing the game.

Fortunately, Wade didn’t seem to need participation for

this particular conversation. “Too bad for him, and now he’s
got some big shoes to fill. Everyone was surprised when
Dan, our school’s defensive coordinator, didn’t get the head
coach position.”

Three Point Tuck

Lifting a hand, confused beyond reason, Randy tried to

remember the original comment. “Uh, someone retired?”

Wade scowled at him for a second before returning his

focus to the road. “Yeah. Coach Kimble retired. They had a
winning season last year, too.” Wade shook his head, and
Randy fought a snort of amusement. His buddy seemed to
have no idea why a coach would retire. “He’d said at the
beginning of the year that it’d be his last, but since the guys
won state, everyone thought he’d change his mind. No go.”
Wade pounded the wheel as if it were a personal offense.

Smiling a bit, Randy listened with half an ear to his friend

talk football as he allowed his mind to drift.

“What the hell did you do to Doctor Booker?” Wade

asked from where he bent his head over a clipboard,
checking inventory. He looked up and smirked, “He’s had it
in for you for a couple of days now.”

Randy grimaced. He hadn’t been quite so lucky in

avoiding the doctor that day. Somehow, Cameron had
seemed to know every time he’d stepped into the hospital.
Sighing, Randy grabbed the clipboard holding their logs and
started filling out paperwork.

“One night stand,” he mumbled, his cheeks heating. “He

wants more and isn’t taking no very well.”

From the corner of his eye, Randy saw Wade’s head snap

up. His partner’s eyes widened for just a second, then a shit-
eating grin spread over his face. Using his own clipboard, he
smacked Randy with it.

“Damn, you dog, man. Bangin’ the doc!” Wade chortled.
“Shut up,” Randy growled, drawing out the words. “I

shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why, man?” Wade sobered a bit, still grinning. “Never

hurts to let off a little steam and get your wick wet.”

Charlie Richards

Randy groaned and rolled his eyes. Wade was such a

horn ball. “Well, when it’s with someone you work with, it
is,” he insisted. “Hurry up. I wanna get done.” Not wanting
to hear any more razzing, Randy quickly changed the
subject. “You headed out anywhere tonight?”

Wade nodded, just as Randy figured he would. His

partner enjoyed an active social life, heading out to a bar
most evenings when he didn’t have to work the next day. He
didn’t drink much, but he loved to dance with all the women
in the place, eventually picking one to take home. Wade
made no bones about his womanizing ways.

“Gonna head to Uncle Sam’s.” He marked off another

item on the checklist, then turned to look at Randy. “You
wanna meet me there?”

Hanging with his friend was better than sitting at home

alone, but Randy really didn’t like that place. Too many
macho guys there always looking for a fight, and since he
didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was gay, he was an easy
target.

Randy shook his head and shoved the completed

paperwork into a folder, ready to be turned into their
company’s office staff for processing. “Not there, Wade,” he
stated bluntly. “You wanna go somewhere else and I’d be
happy to join you.” Frowning, he asked, “Why are you
heading there anyway? That’s not normally your scene.”

Wade shrugged. “They’re supposed to have a good band

tonight.”

“On a Thursday?” he couldn’t help but ask.
Nodding, Wade checked off the last inventory item, then

shoved the clipboard into the holder and started crawling
toward the front. “Yep. Some new marketing gimmick
probably.” He swung up into the passenger seat and sighed.
He pointed at the wheel. “Take me home, Jeeves.”

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Randy chuckled, but obeyed…well, he took him back to

the garage so they could sign out.

When Randy pulled into the driveway of his three

bedroom two bath home, he cocked his head upon spying
the figure on his porch steps. Shoving open the door, Randy
opened his arms in greeting to the eight year old speeding
down the walk toward him.

Randy caught his nephew, praying his hearing wasn’t

damaged by Toby’s cries of Uncle Randy, Uncle Randy!
Swinging the youngster into his arms, he squeezed the boy
into a tight hug and spun him around.

“Hey, sport. What are you doing here?” Using the

spinning as an excuse to look around, he added, “Where’s
your mom?” He didn’t see Candice anywhere. He knew his
sister was flaky, but surely she wouldn’t have left her eight-
year-old son on Randy’s doorstep. He lowered Toby to the
ground, then held out his hand. Toby took it, and they
started toward the door.

“I was waiting for you. Momma said you’d be home soon

and I was to not move from the doorstep until you got here,”
Toby replied, confirming Randy’s suspicions.

Damn her!
Toby kept talking. “I did it, too. But I’m glad you’re here

because my butt was getting cold from sitting on the steps.”

Randy nodded, his tired mind trying to keep up with his

nephew’s chatter. Leading the way into the house, he
grabbed Toby’s backpack from the steps. “You thirsty,
sport?” he asked. “I’m gonna order a pizza.”

“Yay! Pizza!”
He couldn’t help but smile at Toby’s enthusiasm. He

didn’t normally eat junk food, but he had a funny feeling
he’d need the greasy comfort food after he got off the phone
with his sister. And a beer, he decided. He pulled out the

Charlie Richards

orange juice and the milk, holding them up. Toby pointed at
the juice, so he put the milk away and grabbed a beer for
himself.

After filling a plastic Toy Story cup halfway, Randy slid it

across the breakfast bar to Toby, where his nephew had
climbed up onto a stool. “There ya go, Toby. What do you
want on your pizza?” he asked, popping the top off the glass
bottle. He took a swig.

“Pepperoni!” Toby called excitedly.
Nodding, Randy picked up the phone. “You got it, sport,”

he replied, forcing cheerfulness into his voice. “Go ahead
and take your bag into your room and I’ll order the pizza.”

“Yay!” Toby cried again, then slid off the chair and

scampered out of the room.

Randy listened to his nephew pound up the stairs as he

dialed his favorite pizza restaurant. Although it only took a
couple minutes to order the pizza, Toby had still managed to
return by then.

Knowing he really needed to know where the hell

Candice was, Randy set Toby up in front of the TV with a
bucket of Legos, saying, “The pizza will be here in a little bit,
Toby. I’m gonna give your mom a call to make sure she
doesn’t have any special instruction.” He softened his order
with a wink and ruffled the boy’s light brown hair. “I’ll be
right back.”

“Okay, Uncle Randy.”
The immediate, happy response made Randy smile…a

real one this time. For several seconds, he watched Toby
play. His nephew concentrated hard on his toys, searching
for the perfect pieces to create…whatever it was.

Turning away from the sweet sight, Randy headed out of

the living room, up the stairs, and into the third bedroom,
which he’d turned into a workout room. Randy settled on
the weight bench. Tipping his head back, he closed his eyes

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and sighed. He mentally cringed, really not wanting to call
Candice, but knowing he needed to.

Damn her, anyway.
Randy loved his sister…most of the time, but he’d never

met a more self-centered, selfish, irresponsible individual.
Three years his junior at twenty-four, Candice had managed
to get pregnant at sixteen. Their parents had been extremely
supportive, taking care of Toby while she finished high
school.

When Randy had come out, announcing that he was gay,

they’d been supportive of him, too, so it wasn’t like he could
say they’d played favorites. His mom and dad had been the
poster parents for how to be supportive, accepting, and
loving…maybe even a little too much.

His parents had offered to continue to assist caring for

Toby so Candice could go to college, but she’d declined.
Probably for the best, since a month later, they had both died
in a car accident. His heart panged a bit at the memory.

Candice had eventually decided to go to beauty school.

Randy could admit, his jaw had sagged open in shock when
she’d told him. It was so cliché. However, he’d stepped up
and helped Candice by watching Toby every night he wasn’t
bartending, which he had done for several years to earn
enough money to put himself through his own final year of
schooling. When he wasn’t available, he’d paid for a
babysitter…namely, his friend, Devon’s sister, Melinda.

Randy had actually been shocked Candice had finished,

but then, she never actually managed to hold a job for any
length of time. Unfortunately, the precedent had been set
and Candice often came to him for money…oh, and
babysitting. Now that he didn’t work two jobs, she felt she
could leave Toby with him anytime she wanted to go out
and party, which turned out to be more and more often.

Charlie Richards

Randy worried about the crowd she hung with, but she was
an adult and didn’t like him telling her what to do.

After counting to ten, hoping to calm his temper, Randy

dialed his sister’s number. He heard the fourth ring start and
scowled. The voicemail clicked on. Instead of leaving a
message, Randy disconnected and rang again.

This time, Candice picked up on the second ring. “Hey,

bro! What’s up?”

Glaring at the floor, Randy just managed to keep from

grinding his teeth. It wasn’t quite seven o’clock and his sister
sounded drunk. “Candy, why the hell did you leave Toby by
himself on my doorstep? Where the hell are you?”

Candice giggled, actually giggled, before chiding,

“Naughty, Randy. I sure hope my baby boy ain’t in the
room.”

“Of course, he’s not,” Randy snapped right back, just

barely remembering to keep his voice low. Even though
Candice never bothered to curb her own cussing when Toby
was around, she still gave him crap if she heard him swear
in front of Toby. “Now, where are you? What could possibly
have been more important than the safety of your son?”

“Awe! Don’t be that way,” Candice whined. “Doug

invited me to a banquet at his work and I didn’t want to be
late. Besides, I’m sure Toby was only alone for ten or fifteen
minutes.”

Rubbing his forehead with his palm, Randy tried to

control his desire to growl. He didn’t like Doug Womak. The
man was a homophobic asshole. Unfortunately, he was a
rich, homophobic asshole, who worked as a divorce lawyer.
He’d earned a reputation as a man you didn’t want to go up
against. He was a shark who made his opposition pay
through the nose. To top it off, Doug encouraged Candice’s
propensity to dump Toby on Randy at the drop of a hat.

Three Point Tuck

From the sound of things in the background, quite the

party was in full swing. Randy wondered briefly where this
office party was taking place. Shaking his head, he knew it
was too late to talk sense into Candice—why the hell he kept
trying, he didn’t know—so he asked, “What time did you
plan to pick him up this evening? Or were you going to get
him after school tomorrow?” Since tomorrow was Friday,
Randy could imagine that Candice would just assume he’d
take Toby to school.

“Oh, well, actually…”
Randy really didn’t like the way Candice hedged.
“…I’m not gonna pick him up until Sunday night.”
“What?” Randy almost roared the word, just catching it in

time. Still, he knew there was plenty of growl in his tone.

“Well, Doug wanted to treat me to a musical for my

birthday, so we’re flying out to New York City tomorrow
afternoon.” Candice practically gushed. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Sighing, Randy tried to get his brain to wrap around his

sister’s theatrics. His brows drew together. “Candy, your
birthday is still two months away,” he couldn’t help but
point out.

“Well, so.”
Hearing her negligent tone, Randy tried a different

approach. “Candy, I have a prior engagement tomorrow
evening and I work Saturday.”

“Just have Melinda watch him. She’s always happy for

babysitting time,” Candice said.

Randy could hear in her tone that her attention was

beginning to stray from their conversation.

“Candy,” he snapped forcefully, hoping to regain her

attention. “Melinda moved out of state six months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can find someone else,” Candy stated.
Randy could just imagine her waving her hand as if she

shooed away his objection like it was a pesky fly.

Charlie Richards

“Wait.” Suddenly, she sounded far more focused. “You

have something going on Friday? You mean, like a date?”

“No, I volunteered for—”
“Oh, then just bail,” Candice cut in. “It’s not like

volunteer work is a real obligation.” She snorted, as if the
very idea of following through on a promise to do
something for someone else for free was just ridiculous.

Randy knew, to her, it was.

God, I’m so screwed. What the hell am I gonna do with Toby?
“Oops, gotta go. Doug’s looking for me,” Candy tittered.

“Thanks bunches.”

“Right,” Randy muttered, but it didn’t matter. She’d

disconnected the call.

Groaning, Randy lay back on the weight bench and

powered out a dozen reps, using the exercise to burn off his
frustration. He dropped the bar back onto the rack, his chest
heaving just a bit from the impromptu session.

The ringing of his doorbell drew him out of his thoughts

and back to his present predicament. Shaking his head,
Randy shoved to his feet. He made a quick stop in the
kitchen to grab his wallet, then headed to the front door to
collect their pizza.

Randy paid and called for Toby. He couldn’t help but

smile at his nephew’s excitement and enthusiasm as he
raced into the room. Toby chatted as he ate, telling Randy all
about what was going on in his third grade class. Even with
Candice’s lackadaisical approach to parenting—well, if one
could call what Candice did parenting—the boy was smart,
sweet, and exuberant.

Randy truly hoped he always stayed that way.

Three Point Tuck

Chapter Three

he volunteer paramedics are here.”
Brendan snapped his head up and spied Dan standing

in the doorway. He put the pen down—pulling his attention
away from the play he’d been tweaking—and folded his
hands on his desk. “Paramedics?”

Dan grinned. “Yep. Come meet them. And for God’s sake,

stop obsessing. It’s the first game of the season, and we’re as
ready as we’ll ever be.”

Grimacing, Brendan stood and headed toward the other

coach. He wouldn’t call him a friend, yet, but the man was
well on his way to knowing him pretty well. As well as he
could allow anyone to know him, anyway.

“Paramedics? The school hires paramedics?” he asked,

curious. He couldn’t remember that happening in his day.
Where the hell did the funds come from for that?

Snorting, Dan shook his head. “Hell, no. They’re

volunteers.”

Brendan nodded once, heading toward the other man.

“Right. You said that,” he mumbled. Shit, I need to get my act

together.

“Like I said. Stop obsessing,” Dan ordered, patting his

shoulder as he passed.

Giving Dan a wry smile, Brendan shrugged. “My first

game as head coach. What do you expect?”

“T

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Nodding, Dan lowered his voice a bit as he replied, “Hey,

relax. The first couple games are for figuring out problem
areas and fixing holes. You know that.”

Brendan nodded. From his time as a player, he did know

that.

“Besides,” Dan continued, teasing. “The boys are ready.

You did a hell of a job getting them in shape, you ol’ slave
driver.”

Shaking his head, Brendan shoved his hands into his

windbreaker’s pockets. “Where are the paramedics?”

Dan just shook his head and started heading down the

hallway.

On their way, they passed the locker room. Brendan stuck

his head in and yelled, “Hey, be ready in fifteen minutes!”
He swept his gaze over the guys he could see and watched
the closer young men nod. A few in the back—he noted—
seemed to be fixated on someone down the far aisle. Cocking
his head, he heard a locker bang and a grunt.

Brendan glanced toward Dan and held up his pointer

finger, indicating a request for a minute. He strode deeper
into the locker room. The nearer boys stepped aside,
confusion on their faces, telling him that if something odd
went on in the back, they weren’t privy to it.

However, when the teens that stood near the end spotted

him, their eyes widened and they looked fairly alarmed.

Damn. What the hell is going on?
Another thud followed by some lowly growled words

that Brendan couldn’t understand made him pick up his
pace. He shoved past the gawking bystanders and rounded
the aisle. Seeing three boys huddled together, Drew, Cory,
and Vaughn, Brendan frowned. While two already wore
their padded pants, Vaughn—a big right tackle—only wore
a towel.

“What’s going on?” Brendan snapped.

Three Point Tuck

The three guy’s heads swiveled to look at him. Drew—

another offensive lineman who played the left guard
position—stepped back. He looked really guilty, his gaze
darting around the room. Cory and Vaughn swung around
to face him. As soon as Vaughn saw him, the big man’s
cheeks turned pink and he, too, stepped away. Cory, on the
other hand, scowled.

“Nothing, Coach,” Vaughn rumbled, his deep voice

sounding a bit uncertain.

Yeah, right.
Brendan spotted another figure, this one sitting on the

bench almost beneath the other two men. He hunched
around himself, his dark bald head lowered. He saw
reasonably muscled bare arms and Brendan struggled to
place the African American the other three players had been
standing over.

Wait…he had a tattoo on his upper arm, a pathetic outline

of a spade—probably the work of one of his buddies who
aspired to be a tattoo artist. Right. Keep practicing. At least, it
gave away who sat hunched on the bench.

“Ross?” Brendan called. “You feeling all right there?”
The second string tight end lifted his head and met his

gaze. “Yeah, Coach,” he all but whispered. “I’m okay.”

Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead.
Brendan just stopped his eyes from narrowing. Instead,

he swept his gaze over the group and spotted the class ring
on Cory’s right hand. His suspicions formed, but he couldn’t
do much if none of the boys would tell the truth.

At least, he could get Ross away from the bullies. He

pointed at the bleeding gash on the boy’s temple, then
motioned him forward. “You run into a locker?” he asked,
not expecting an answer. “Lucky for you, the paramedics
just got here. Come on. Let’s have you checked out.”

Charlie Richards

Ross’s jaw sagged open for just a second, then he snapped

it shut before saying, “I’m all right, Coach. Yeah, I just ran
into a locker. It’s just a scratch.”

“We’ll let the paramedics be the judge of that,” Brendan

stated, his tone firm, brooking no argument. “Come on.”
Once Ross started moving, grabbing a shirt and yanking it
over his bare chest on his way, Brendan looked over his
shoulder and pointed at a pair of other second stringers, Jake
and Riley—a running back and a wide receiver. “When
you’re done dressing, bring Ross’s gear with your own and
meet us upstairs.” He swept his gaze over the rest of the
crowding young men and hollered, “Ten minutes. Get your
butts in gear!”

Everyone scattered and Brendan guided Ross to the end

of the aisle where Dan waited. “Where are those paramedics,
Dan?” He indicated that the young man should follow the
defensive coordinator, then did the same.

“Right,” Dan replied.
Before the man turned, Brendan spotted Dan’s

questioning look. He gave the man a tight-lipped smile and
a quick nod, attempting to convey that he’d explain later.
Dan seemed to get it, for he nodded curtly, then turned and
headed down the hallway.

“This way,” Dan beckoned.
“After you, son,” Brendan stated, motioning for Ross to

follow Dan.

Brendan followed them out of the building and toward

the field. Someone had erected a tent a dozen paces from the
south side end zone, right over the track and field lanes that
circled the field. When he rounded to the front, he
discovered the flaps were held open with ties and he saw
two men moving within the shaded confines.

“So, what’s the point of a two point conversion if no one

ever actually goes after one?” the dirty-blond haired fellow

Three Point Tuck

asked, crossing his arms over his lean chest while he
scowled at the darker haired man.

Unable to help it, Brendan smiled, amused at the cute

Caucasian’s obvious confusion. Wait, cute Caucasian? Oh, hell
no! Not happening. There was no way in hell he was going to
allow himself to become distracted now…especially not by
some skinny white dude who obviously didn’t understand
football. What is the guy even doing volunteering for this? The
second paramedic made sense, judging by his impassioned
response as he tried to explain.

Both men paused in their conversation and turned toward

them.

The blond’s gaze landed first on Dan, then moved to

Brendan and seemed to freeze, looking him up and down.
For just a second, Brendan thought the cutie was checking
him out, but then he quickly moved on and focused on Ross.
His brows drew together as he stepped forward and cupped
the teenager’s face, tilting it up a bit. “Damn. What
happened to you?” He scowled over his shoulder at his
partner. “What happened to there’s hardly ever any injuries?”

Dan took that moment to step forward. “A couple of our

boys had a disagreement in the locker room,” he stated
flatly. He gave Ross a reproving look. “Don’t think we’re not
still waiting for an explanation on that fight,” the defensive
coordinator stated. “And, no, I don’t believe you ran into a
locker.”

“Well, I think that can wait,” the blond paramedic stated.

“This gash is deep. I need to clean it, but I’m thinking a
couple stitches are in order.”

“That’s not gonna keep me from playing, if I’m needed, is

it?” Ross queried, clearly alarmed.

Brendan gripped Ross’s shoulder and steered him toward

the closest rather flimsy looking cot. “Have a seat, Ross.” At
the tight end’s concerned expression, he squeezed the

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shoulder he held and stated, “And you’ll be fine for the
game.” Lifting a brow, he glanced toward the blond, hoping
he’d confirm.

The stranger seemed to catch on, for he nodded and

indicated the cot. “Have a seat there, Ross. I’m Randy
Coughlan. I’m one of the volunteer paramedics.” He kept
talking as he glanced over his shoulder at the dark-haired
paramedic, who stood maybe an inch taller than Randy’s
perhaps five foot eleven or six foot height. “This is my
partner, Wade Sloan. Don’t worry, Ross. We’ll take good
care of you.”

Evidently, Dan knew the men, for the defensive

coordinator stated, “You’re in good hands, Ross. These guys
know what they’re doing.” Wade winked at Dan and
grinned, then turned and started helping Randy clean up the
wound.

“Well, I can definitely make out a V shape, here, Ross,”

Randy muttered, his concentration on the wound. He spared
a second to glance toward Brendan before returning his
focus to Ross. “And, you, sir, managed to hit the edge of the
locker damn hard. Harder than any stumble, that’s for
certain,” he stated, his eyes narrowed in obvious
speculation.

Since Randy was busy inspecting the wound, his partner,

Wade, frowned at the teenager. “You gonna come clean
about how you got this?”

Ross’s skin flushed. He mumbled something.
“I’m gonna give you a shot to numb just that area,” Wade

stated. “You have any allergies I should be aware of?”

“No, sir,” Ross whispered.
Wade nodded. He poised the needle near the boy’s skin—

who happened to have his eyes squeezed tightly shut, giving
away his fear of the pointy objects—and looked over his
shoulder. “Guess we shoulda checked. Is all the paperwork

Three Point Tuck

giving us authority to administer medical treatment in
order?”

Dan jerked a nod. “Yep.”
Randy’s focus finally left the wound he inspected. “Uh,

you know this isn’t life threatening, right? What are the
stipulations in your paperwork? Can we really treat him?”

Brendan remembered the wording of the paperwork he’d

had each and every player take home to their parents to
sign. He could assume medical responsibility for wounds
that were diagnosed as life threatening as well as something
that threatened a player’s football career. This might be
stretching it a bit, considering Ross was only a sophomore
and it was only stitches, but if Brendan could figure out a
way to get him into the game, he’d be justified.

“The repercussions would be mine, should anything be

questioned,” Brendan stated softly, his deep voice drawing
attention, just as he knew it would. “Just take care of Ross.”

“Right, let’s get ya fixed up then, Ross,” Wade stated.

“This is a local anesthetic. It’ll numb the area up a bit. Deep
breath, now, Ross. This will sting just a bit.”

Ross didn’t nod, but responded by focusing on the tent

wall and taking a slow, deep breath. Wade stuck him, and
Brendan had to look away. He’d always hated needles.

“I’m headed back to round up the boys,” Brendan told

Dan.

Dan nodded and grinned. “Good idea. Don’t want the

team to be late to our first game.”

Brendan smirked and lifted a brow. “Yep, that would be

embarrassing, huh?” He sure appreciated that was the
conclusion Dan had jumped to. Unable to resist one more
glance toward the cute blond—the most likely straight and
completely off limits cute blond, damn it—Brendan caught
Randy’s eye. “He’ll be okay, then?” he couldn’t resist asking.

Charlie Richards

Randy smiled at him and, damn, if the way it lit his

vibrant green eyes didn’t hit Brendan like a kick in the gut.
His cock plumped in his slacks, and never had he been so
grateful for his thigh-length jacket. Well, shit, he’d really
need to watch himself around this guy. Randy somehow
pushed all his buttons without even trying, and Brendan
had no clue why.

Spinning around, Brendan took a step and nearly plowed

into a small boy who must have just come sprinting into the
tent, judging from the youngster’s flushed face and heaving
chest. “Whoa, there, turbo.” Brendan grabbed the kid’s
shoulders, so he didn’t land on his butt after bouncing off
Brendan’s legs. “You all right there?”

“Uh, huh. You’re tall!” The child peered up at him with

wide green eyes.

Brendan chuckled. He figured to a maybe seven or eight

year old boy, his six foot four inch height was pretty tall.
“You eat your vegetables, maybe you’ll get this tall,” he
teased. He’d always loved kids, so helping raise his brothers
hadn’t been a hardship. Sadly, he’d resigned himself to not
having any of his own when he was a teenager and realized
he was gay. Just because he wasn’t out didn’t mean he’d
marry some poor woman to keep his secret. He’d never do
that to another. Besides, the only way he could manage to
get it up for a woman was when he was drunk, and he never
wanted to be that kind of a man.

“Hey, Toby, what are you doing here? I thought you were

with Lorna,” Randy said, drawing attention.

Brendan released the boy, Toby, and watched him scurry

to Randy’s side. “Lorna is outside. She said her dad is doing
a barba-barba…” His brows scrunched as he struggled with
the word.

“Barbeque?” Randy prodded gently.

Three Point Tuck

Toby nodded emphatically. “Yeah. That. Mister Lewis

says we could go. Can we? They’re cooking hot dogs!”

The boy’s obvious excitement at that announcement made

Brendan smile. God, they could be so cute at that age.

Randy nodded. “Sure, sport. That sounds like a good

idea. Why don’t you head back out with Lorna, and let
Mister Lewis know we’d love to come.”

“Okay!” Then, Toby was off, tearing past Brendan and

out of the tent. “We can go! We can go!” he hollered to
someone outside.

“He’s sure turning out well, even with Candy for a

mom.”

Brendan’s brows shot up at Wade’s murmured comment.

His gaze flicked to Randy, who smiled faintly and nodded
once. Next, Brendan glanced at Randy’s hand, but it was
covered in a plastic glove and he couldn’t tell if the man
wore a ring.

Giving himself a mental shake, Brendan scrambled from

the room. He shouldn’t be wondering anyway. Randy had a
boy, and even if he was divorced from that Candy woman,
obviously the boy’s mother, Brendan was still in the
closet…deep, deep in the closet.

And that’s where I gotta stay.
With that thought firmly in mind, he strode from the tent.

For the first time in a long, long while, Brendan realized he
felt regret.

Charlie Richards

Chapter Four

andy couldn’t help checking out Brendan as he left.
Mmm-mmm, that man has a fine backside. Even as he had

the thought, he mentally cursed the coach’s jacket. He’d
have loved to see the man’s ass.

Wade chuckled. “Better put those eyes back in your head,

Randy.”

After tying off the thread after the last stitch, Randy

shrugged as he stepped back. Grinning, he teased right back,
“Can ya blame me? The new coach is hot.” He waggled his
brows as he added, “Maybe I’ll start coming to these games
just for the eye candy.”

Snorting, Dan shook his head. “You’re barking up the

wrong tree, Randy.”

Hell, Randy knew that, but he couldn’t help but ask, “You

sure about that, Dan?” as he winked at his friend.

To Randy’s surprise, Dan’s brows shot up, then he

scowled as he actually seemed to ponder that idea a few
seconds. Finally, he shrugged, before looking meaningfully
at Ross, who sat on the cot, glancing between the men.

Randy grimaced. Shit, he knew better than to discuss the

sexuality of someone else around people he didn’t know.
Although, he’d been partnered with Wade only the last eight
months, he’d known the man for several years through their
job. Dan had been at Wade’s place for barbeques on more
than one occasion with his brother, Coal. While Dan was as

Three Point Tuck

straight as an arrow, Coal was as gay as a guy could be,
taking the term queen to the extreme and running with it.
Randy had grown to trust both men, and enjoyed their get-
togethers.

However, he knew nothing about the teenager sitting on

the cot. God, he needed to get his head out of his ass and
stop thinking with his dick. That was what had gotten him
in trouble with Cameron.

“Are you…are you a fag?”
Lifting a brow at Ross’s almost whispered question,

Randy stared him in the eye and responded coolly, “I’m gay.
Yes.”

“That was rude, Ross,” Dan growled. “Watch your

mouth.”

Ross flushed nearly scarlet. “Sorry, sir,” he quickly

mumbled, even as his gaze darted from Randy’s face, then
around the tent, and back to Randy. He opened his mouth,
questions in his expression, then snapped his jaw shut again.

Randy wondered what he would have asked, but the

young man still hadn’t worked up the courage a few
seconds later when a teen he knew as Jake, Carl Lewis’s son,
appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, Ross. Here’s your stuff,” Jake stated, dropping the

shoulder pads and jersey on the ground. Turning, Jake
greeted him, too. “Hey, Mister Coughlan. I didn’t know you
were volunteering this year.”

“First time,” Randy admitted. “And I didn’t know you

played football. I thought you were a soccer dude.”

Jake snorted and rolled his eyes, showing off his

age…sixteen, if Randy remembered correctly. “Yeah, first
time. It’s fun.” He shrugged.

Something told him Jake wanted to say something else,

but the teenager glanced at Ross and bit his tongue.

Charlie Richards

Another boy had followed Jake into the tent, carrying an

extra helmet. “Come on, guys. We gotta get moving.”

“Riley is right,” Dan confirmed. “Suit up, Ross. I hear the

others coming.”

Randy had no clue how Dan could hear anything over the

stomping of feet climbing bleachers or the loud hum of
scores of people talking. Maybe he was used to the noise,
seeing as—according to Wade—he’d been doing it for years.

“Good luck with the game,” Wade called as Dan herded

the three boys out of the tent, receiving several thank yous in
return.

Cleaning up, Randy stated, “Why don’t you stand outside

the tent and watch the game? This will only take me a few
minutes.”

Wade stepped back eagerly. “You sure?”
Randy chuckled. “Yeah. Go on.”
“Thanks.” Wade paused at the entrance, turning back to

say, “You know this isn’t why I convinced you to do this,
right?”

Pasting a confused expression on his face, Randy met his

friend’s gaze. “It isn’t?”

Barking a laugh, Wade shook his head. “Smart ass,” he

muttered before stepping outside.

Randy just grinned and went back to cleaning up.

Their services were needed only once, when a player on

the opposing team sprained an ankle. He’d been stepped on
while being tackled, causing his foot to roll and twist under
the other player’s weight. While Randy had diagnosed and
wrapped the young man’s foot, the assistant coach had
peppered Wade about how their volunteer efforts were set
up.

Finally, the team’s first win under their belt, the crowds

roaring their approval, the game came to an end. Randy

Three Point Tuck

hated to admit it, but he was damn glad. He’d never been a
big football fan, and since he found his gaze pulled toward
the sexy coach again and again, he was ready to get out of
there.

Randy and Wade took their time packing their supplies.

His friend explained that carrying expensive medical
equipment through crowds of boisterous—and even some
angry out-of-towners—wasn’t always a safe thing to do. The
wrong bump or jostle could damage something, or if a
druggie happened to be in the crowd, things could turn
dangerous.

“Besides,” Wade added. “A couple of players and one of

the coaches will be here shortly to take down the tent and
carry it back inside, then help us haul this shit out.”

Randy couldn’t help it. He glanced toward the tent

opening and immediately wondered if Brendan would be
the coach helping them.

Wade snickered, reading his response way too accurately.

“Got the hots for the new coach, buddy?”

Shrugging, Randy returned his focus to his work. He

knew his partner wouldn’t drop it unless he gave him
something, so he stated, “You remember what happened
when I thought with my dick last time, right?”

For a second, Wade looked confused. Then, his brows

shot up. “You mean Doc Booker?”

Randy grimaced. “Yeah, except maybe this would be

better. Instead of a hostile work environment for however
long the guy has it in his head that we’re perfect for each
other, maybe this time I’ll get off easy and only suffer a fist
to the jaw.”

“You really think he’s the violent sort?”
Before Randy could answer, Dan rounded the corner,

followed by several students he didn’t recognize. Randy had

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to hide a stab of disappointment even as Dan asked, “Who’s
the violent sort?”

“Uh, a potential date,” Randy replied, exchanging a

glance with Wade.

His fellow paramedic grinned and slapped him on the

shoulder. “Yep, don’t want to get involved with those sorts,
eh?”

They both knew Dan probably didn’t understand, but the

assistant coach nodded sagely. “Yep. Abuse can go either
way, and it’s never okay. You remember that, boys.”

Several yes sirs followed.
Wade pointed at the hard canvas bags lining the side of

the tent. “Take those outside while we break down the
stretcher and bed, then you all can take the tent down and
return it to the school.”

Randy kept a watchful eye on the teens as they moved the

bags, but they seemed careful. Dan stepped forward and
helped Wade take down the cot, which was a lot like a
massage bed, while Randy took apart the stretcher and
placed it in its carry bag. He’d just zipped up the canvas bag
when a deep, masculine voice from outside the tent sent a
shiver of awareness down his spine.

“You boys are being careful, right?”
Shit! It’d been all of three hours and he already knew that

voice. He could even picture in his mind Brendan’s dark
brown skin, the crinkle around his eyes when he smiled, and
how his deep brown eyes lit up when he cheered with his
team. His tall, leanly muscled body moved with fluid grace
as he paced the sidelines and his deep voice sent chills down
Randy’s spine when he hollered instructions to his players.

Randy found the new coach sexy as hell.
Pushing aside the useless ideas, Randy hefted the bag

over his shoulder and headed outside. Once he stepped past

Three Point Tuck

the tent flap, he immediately spotted Brendan standing near
the guys, his gaze drawn as if by some invisible magnet.

Brendan listened to the teens assure the coach that they

were being very, very careful. “Good,” Brendan stated, even
as he turned to face Randy.

For

just

instant,

Randy

thought

saw…something…in the other man’s eyes. Except, just as
quickly, the light was gone and Brendan swept his gaze over
the area as he stated, “Sorry I’m late. Got caught up with a
few of the parents. What can I help with?”

“Oh, uh, I think we have it covered,” Randy responded,

hoping Brendan would head off.

Randy just knew if he stayed too close to the sexy coach

for any length of time, he’d end up doing something really,
really stupid. Besides, he needed to head to Carl Lewis’s
place and pick up Toby. He certainly didn’t need any more
complications in life and lusting after a straight man was just
plain stupid. Randy turned when he heard Wade and Dan
coming near, their arms laden with what was probably the
last of the items in the make-shift hospital room.

“Hey, Brendan,” Dan greeted, grinning broadly. “You

missed out on all the fun.”

“So it would seem,” Brendan replied. “Sorry about that.”
Dan laughed. “You can spearhead next week’s

breakdown.”

When Brendan nodded, adding in, “Okay,” Randy

couldn’t help but feel disappointment…because he wouldn’t
be there next week. Another pair of paramedics was
scheduled to monitor next week’s game.

No, that’ll be for the best.
“You know what,” Wade cut in. “If you still want to help,

why don’t you and one of your guys take down the tent and
put it away inside.” The man nodded at the tall, slender
African American kid who, if Randy wasn’t mistaken, had

Charlie Richards

caught a couple touchdown passes. “Tony knows where the
tent goes. He could show you.” He pointed at the other two
players and continued, “That way, the rest of us only have to
make one trip to my car.”

Brendan nodded, his full lips curving up at the corners.

“Sure. I can do that.” He turned to the player Wade had
indicated. “Come on, Tony. Let’s get this knocked out.”

“Sure thing, Coach,” Tony immediately responded.
As Randy loaded up his arms with supplies, he tried to

ignore Brendan’s quiet rumbles as the coach and the player
worked together to dismantle the tent. Once everything was
divvied up between the remaining five of them and they
started walking, Randy had only taken a few steps when he
felt the shoulder strap of the stretcher’s satchel start to slip.
He paused and shrugged his shoulder, trying to get it in just
the right position.

Except, every time he started walking, it’d just slip again,

making it difficult to keep his grip on the box of supplies he
carried.

“Fucking hell,” Randy snarled low under his breath.
“Easy there. You kiss Toby with that mouth?” A deep

teasing voice sounded behind him.

Randy would have spun in surprise, but then one brown,

slender-fingered hand landed on his empty shoulder while
the other gripped the strap and held it steady.

Heat flooded Randy’s system at the altogether innocent

touch combined with the mention of kissing. His cock
thickened in his jeans. Damn it! “Uh.” Wait what was the
question? Right. Toby. “Guess I’m tired. I’m not usually so,
uh…”

“Not such a potty mouth?” Brendan teased from behind

him. He tugged the strap lightly. “Can this go over your
head? Otherwise somethin’s gonna give.”

Three Point Tuck

“Yeah. I should have done that to begin with,” Randy

conceded. Before he could control his tongue, he added, “If
you think I’ve got a potty mouth now, you should hear me
in bed.”

Brendan had just slipped the strap over his head. At

Randy’s words, Brendan dropped the nylon strap, making it
land hard on his shoulder, even as the coach’s other hand
tightened where it rested on Randy’s hip. Randy’s abs
clenched at the contact, tingles flooding his system.

Shit, when did Brendan place his hand there?
Randy immediately flushed. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he

quickly responded, trying to ignore the intimate touch. “I
shouldn’t have said that.” There went not thinking with his
dick.

“It’s fine,” Brendan quickly replied, his voice sounded

strained even as he removed both hands. “Hopefully you
won’t have trouble now.”

“Thanks,” Randy mumbled self-consciously.
He couldn’t help but turn, hoping Brendan’s expression

would give away some of his thoughts. Unfortunately, all he
got was a view of his strong back and lean, jean-clad legs—
yum—as he watched the other man return to helping Tony
take down the tent. When the player glanced up and peered
at Randy, he quickly spun and strode swiftly after the
others.

After his first few steps, where he berated himself for his

stupidity, Randy forced the situation out of his mind. No
sense even assuming he’d see the man more than in passing
every few weeks at these games.

“Have a good night, man,” Wade called before getting

into his car.

Randy waved over his shoulder, heading along the gravel

path through the woods to the main stadium parking lot.

Charlie Richards

His friend had arrived earlier than him, scoring a prime

parking spot in the faculty lot. Randy, having to swing by
Carl’s house to drop off Toby, had arrived maybe twenty
minutes after him. He sure as hell couldn’t have his nephew
around so many shiny, pointy objects. That was why he’d
needed his nephew with someone else, and he’d never be
more grateful for his friend, Carl, and his friend’s kid, Lorna.
Now, of course, it made sense why Carl and Lorna had
already planned to be at the game, what with his son, Jake
playing.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten

since lunch. He smiled, thinking of Toby’s excitement over
hot dogs, because a couple of those sounded damn good
right about then.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Randy focused on

getting to his car, then to Carl’s and to his nephew. He
smiled faintly at the ground, then lifted his head and
glanced around the darkened parking area. It paid to be
careful and all that.

Randy’s steps slowed as he made out a man leaning

against one of those huge, king cab truck monstrosities. The
dark parking lot didn’t allow him to make out too many
features from this distance, and the man was only a few
spaces away from Randy’s own vehicle…far too close for
comfort, in his mind. So, he slowed his steps and gripped his
car keys in his pocket, threading them through his fingers. It
wouldn’t be much protection if this dude had some
hoodlum friends lurking about, but Randy could hold his
own against one guy.

He nearly missed a step when he got close enough to

recognize the lounging figure as that of the coach. Ah, damn.
Had he really offended the man that much?

“Uh, Brendan?” Shit, maybe he needed to be more formal.

“Coach Gateman?”

Three Point Tuck

Brendan turned his head, pulling his gaze away from his

apparent perusal of the stars. “Randy?”

“Yeah,” Randy confirmed, moving slowly closer. “Uh,”

he glanced around the nearly empty parking lot. His and the
coach’s vehicles were the only ones in the lot. “You waitin’
for something?” Then, he remembered the way Brendan had
his head tilted back. “Stargazing?”

Brendan straightened, his arms dropping from where

he’d had them crossed over his chest, most likely to keep in
body warmth. Nights were no longer warm. “That’s your
car, Randy?”

Deciding the tone was inquiring, not pissed, Randy

picked up his pace and headed toward the other man. He
found himself nodding, even as he stopped about ten feet
away from Brendan. “Yep. She might not look like much
right now, but she’s never left me stranded.” He knew he
sounded proud, but he couldn’t help himself. Schooling as a
paramedic, he’d learned how a body worked. A few years
before, Randy had discovered an affinity for cars, learning
that the mechanics worked just like the inner workings of a
human body.

A year and a half before, he’d scraped enough cash

together to buy the rust-bucket currently parked a few slots
down from what was obviously Brendan’s truck. Every
spare penny he had, he’d sunk into the engine and
transmission. He still hadn’t gotten to the exterior or interior
yet, but at least the vehicle ran great.

Brendan’s brows shot up and he pushed off his own truck

and pointed at Randy’s car. “This is a classic nineteen-sixty-
nine Dodge Challenger! And it’s never left you stranded?
Damn!”

Unable to help himself, Randy laughed and moved

toward his car, too. “Guess I got a way of talkin’ to the old
girl.”

Charlie Richards

“Guess so,” Brendan responded, walking around the

vehicle.

Randy grinned at the appreciative look on the other man’s

face, clearly discernible even through the shadows. “So, you
were just waiting around to see who owns this ol’ rust
bucket?”

Even as Brendan rounded the front, he shook his head.

“No. You don’t have a student parking sticker in the
window. I didn’t really want to call a tow truck, but the
school has a strict policy that no unknown vehicles can be
parked overnight in any of their lots.” He shrugged. “So, I
stuck around to see if the owner came back.”

Nodding, Randy leaned a hip against his fender. “It took

a while to get everything safely stowed in Wade’s car.” He
smirked. “We’ll get the hang of it by the end of the year.”

“Uh huh,” Brendan muttered.
Suddenly, Randy realized the other man’s gaze was no

longer on his car, but on him. Brendan had stopped a few
feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets. When Randy
risked a glance down, he discovered that with the way the
jacket was pulled, it didn’t quite hide the man’s aroused
state.

Holy shit! Brendan is turned on! Is it by me or the car?
The rumbling of the coach’s stomach gave Randy the

perfect opportunity to find out.

“Sounds like you’re hungry. I’m headed over to my

buddy Carl Lewis’s place to pick up Toby. He’s a good guy.
A police detective. His son is Jake Lewis. He’s on your
team.” He realized he was babbling and got to the point.
“He’s barbequing, as I’m sure you heard. He always over-
prepares. Why don’t you follow me over?”

Three Point Tuck

Chapter Five

rendan couldn’t believe he’d agreed. He shouldn’t be
spending time with a man he not only wanted, but

who made him break all his rules of no touching, no flirting,
and above all, no spending time with the one who tempted
him. There were just too many ways for him to slip up.

Although, he reminded himself, it wouldn’t even occur to

most straight men that a guy staring might mean something
more than him thinking vacantly about something. His
stomach grumbled. The idea of a juicy cheeseburger made
his mouth water. Damn it! He wanted to make friends and
Jake was a good kid, so it stood to reason his father would
be, too.

I’ll just control myself, like I’ve always done for the last eight

years.

Good thing I got that decided.
Shaking his head at himself, Brendan steered his truck

down a side street, following Randy’s Challenger. The
vehicle really was sweet. As he’d been waiting to see if the
owner showed up, his fingers had practically itched to pop
the hood and look underneath.

Even though the exterior looked rough, Randy had the

engine purring like a kitten…or maybe roaring like a lion
would be a better analogy. As he watched Randy ease the
vehicle to the curb in front of a house, he couldn’t help but
wonder what it’d feel like to drive the muscle car.

Charlie Richards

A couple cars were already in the driveway, so Brendan

parked his own truck at the curb on the opposite side of the
driveway. Before he could second guess himself, he pushed
the door open and stepped out. Striding toward Randy,
where the paramedic waited at the foot of the driveway,
Brendan felt grateful for the dark shadows. It gave him one
last opportunity to school his features.

“I called Carl on the way over, so he knows to expect

another mouth,” Randy told him by way of greeting.

Nodding, Brendan followed Randy up the driveway.

“And he didn’t mind?”

“Naw,” Randy replied. “Carl and his partner hold

barbeques all the time. The more the merrier, they always
say.” Grinning, he hitched his shoulder and cocked his head.
“Move your ass. I’m hungry.”

Brendan snorted, oh-so-tempted to make another quip

about the guy’s cussing. As a teacher, he’d learned real fast
to curb that habit…and it hadn’t been easy, considering he’d
been a jock, then a professional sports player. Then, Brendan
remembered the comment Randy had made earlier when
he’d given him crap about it. The idea of listening to what
this man sounded like in bed had caused his cock to thicken
to near painful levels and he’d had to get away from the
paramedic fast before he’d allowed his dick to do the
thinking and he’d said something stupid, like, You gonna

prove that? Or are you all talk?

Yep, better not.
Instead, Brendan just kept his mouth shut and followed

the man.

Randy led him around the side of the home and through a

gate, revealing a sprawling back deck with a half dozen
reclining lawn chairs. Two men he didn’t recognize sat at a
picnic table—both had dark hair, although one sported a
thick beard. They appeared deep in conversation as they ate

Three Point Tuck

thick burgers. The man he knew as Detective Carl Lewis
stood at the grill, holding a plate and talking to Toby. He
pointed to first one hot dog, then another, probably trying to
help the boy decide which hot dog to place in the ketchup
doused bun.

Toby pointed to one and Carl placed the cooked dog in

the bun. Just as he handed the plate over, the boy spotted
him and Randy. The boy grinned widely and held up his
plate, obviously proud. “Look, Uncle Randy. I got a hot
dog!”

Wait. Uncle?
Randy grinned back. “It looks good, sport. You better eat

it while it’s hot.” He pointed at a plastic table near a swing
set where a blond girl sat. If Brendan had to guess, the girl
was probably twelve, thirteen, or there-a-bouts, and she
grinned largely at Randy and Toby, waving. The fact that
she was Lorna, the babysitter, was confirmed when Randy
told a smiling Toby, “Have a seat with Lorna and eat your
hotdog. If you eat it fast enough, maybe Mister Lewis will
have another one for you.”

Toby’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
Randy winked. “If you’re still hungry and can eat it all.

Don’t want to waste it, now.”

“Okay. I won’t!” With that, Toby turned and headed as

swiftly as his short legs would carry him toward Lorna and
the small table.

“You’re his uncle?” Brendan wanted to kick himself for

his mumbled comment, but couldn’t help his curiosity. Had
he pegged Randy wrong?

Randy answered as he led the way toward Carl and the

grill. “Yep. My sister, Candice, is away this weekend, so I
took him.”

Charlie Richards

Brendan thought he heard a hardness enter Randy’s

voice, an undertone he couldn’t understand, having just met
the man.

Whatever it was disappeared when Randy shook hands

with Carl and greeted, “Thanks for the offer of grub, man.
And I totally owe Lorna for watching Toby. She’s a good
kid.”

Carl laughed. “Sure, she’s good. You’re paying her.”
Randy laughed, too, and shrugged. “Whatever works.”
Nodding, Carl pointed at a side table laden with plates,

silverware, buns, condiments, and enough side dishes to
feed an army. Randy hadn’t been kidding. This guy must
have done this often to be so well set up.

“You remember Coach Brendan Gateman, right?” Randy

asked, indicating him.

Holding out his hand, Carl grinned. “A little hard to

forget, considering you allowed the second string to play
today. Not too many coaches would do that the first game of
the season.”

Brendan took Carl’s hand and shook it while answering,

“Well, our first string established a hefty lead the first three
quarters. No sense demoralizing our opposition. Besides, the
second stringers can’t get better if they don’t get game time.”

He’d played under several coaches that used that

technique to help players gain experience. Not only did it
save the starters from getting too fatigued, which could
culminate in bad decisions and injuries, it also gave the
second stringer the experience to step in and fill the gap if
someone did end up injured later on.

“Well, Jake sure appreciated it.” Carl waved toward the

table again. “Grab what you want. Burgers and hotdogs are
ready.”

Three Point Tuck

“I sure appreciate you letting me crash your party,”

Brendan said over his shoulder as he trailed Randy to the
table.

“The more the merrier,” Carl responded.
While Brendan prepped his burger bun, the sliding glass

door opened and Jake exited with another young man,
someone Brendan didn’t recognize as a football player.
Jake’s eyes widened slightly, but then he smiled. “Hey,
Coach.”

Brendan straightened and held out his hand. “Jake, good

playing today,” he praised, shaking the teenager’s hand.
“With your obvious enthusiasm and a little more practice,
you’ll make a great running back.”

“Thanks, Coach!” Jake grinned at his friend, bumping

shoulders with him.

The other teen bumped him back and smirked. “Told you.

What? You didn’t believe me?”

“I believed you,” Jake murmured back. He placed his

hand on the guy’s arm, for all the world looking like he
worried he’d upset the other teen. When Jake’s companion
smirked and winked, the tension in Jake’s shoulder’s eased.

Brendan found himself frozen as he took in the byplay,

thinking it appeared far too much like a dating couple
learning each other’s boundaries. Except, how could that be?
Especially right in front of Carl?

Jake speaking pulled Brendan from his thoughts. “Dad,

can we eat in my room? Pete is gonna help me with
chemistry.” Jake glanced over and gave Pete a fond look.
“I’d never get through this year without your help.”

The praise lit up the slender, dark-haired teen’s brown

eyes. “Awe, you would have,” he muttered, obviously
uncomfortable even while pleased.

Charlie Richards

Carl chuckled, actually chuckled, at the display. “Sure,

boys. Remember the rules though,” he reminded, his voice
firm.

“I know,” Jake replied, looking for all the world like he

just kept from rolling his eyes. “Keep the door open.”

“At least halfway,” Carl pressed. “None of this open a

crack bullshit.”

Jake’s cheeks flushed. “I know.”
Once the pair had grabbed burgers and hotdogs, they

disappeared back into the house. Randy crossed to the grill
and patted Carl on the shoulder. “Teenagers, huh? I dread
Toby reaching that age. Especially with Candy as a role
model.” He furrowed his brows and pinched his lips in
obvious consternation.

Carl grimaced. “I’m trying to give Jake his space, while

still being involved. It’s a damn fine line when I know
they’re horny teenagers.”

Brendan stepped up to the grill, unable to help his

confused frown. “I’m sorry. Horny teenagers? Are you
worried about porn or something?”

“No,” Carl replied, his eyes narrowing. “I know you’re

his coach, so you might as well know now. Jake is gay, and
he’s not in the closet, by any means. Pete is his boyfriend.”
The man’s lips tightened into a scowl as he crossed his arms
over his chest. “Is this gonna cause a problem?”

“Oh, uh—” Shit! Jake is gay? And his father is obviously

aware and supportive? Brendan’s mind seemed to freeze with
shock for several seconds.

Randy’s sigh—which sounded suspiciously laced with

disappointment—snapped Brendan out of his surprised
stupor. “Look,” Randy started. “You should know—”

“Wait, no!” Brendan finally untied his tongue. He turned

and met Carl’s wary gaze. “It won’t be a problem. I have
zero tolerance for bullying on the team…for any reason.

Three Point Tuck

Anyone caught bullying is benched the next game. I was just
surprised you, uh—” He shook his head once, trying to find
the right words. Finally, he forced a tentative smile. “Most
parents aren’t nearly so, uh, accepting,” he finished lamely.

At that, Randy grinned and looked away.
Carl smirked. Lifting a brow, he stated, “Well, it’d be a bit

hypocritical of me to give my son a hard time about being
gay considering I’m bisexual.”

Brendan’s brows shot up. His jaw sagged open.
Chuckling, Carl smiled at the broad-shouldered, dark-

haired man who’d been eating at the table a bit ago as the
man approached. Without missing a beat, the detective slid
his arm around the other man and tilted his head up. There
was no way to misinterpret that move, and the newly
arrived male evidently knew it.

The guy lowered his head the inch or two needed to press

a quick butterfly kiss to Carl’s mouth. Then, the man lifted
his head and quirked up his lips, murmuring, “I think we’re
shocking your son’s coach, babe.”

Carl smiled at the man who held him. “This coming out

thing seems to be an ongoing effort.”

“Afraid so,” the dark-haired man rumbled his reply.
Finally, gaining control of himself—sort of—Brendan

snapped his sagging jaw closed. Except, then he blurted out,
“I don’t understand.” Obviously, when Randy had said
partner, he’d assumed the wrong thing.

Randy hadn’t meant Carl’s partner on the force. He’d

meant life partner.

The urge to make his excuses and run rode Brendan hard.

Knowing that would just piss off his host, not to mention
disappoint Randy—which for some reason seemed far more
important—Brendan forced the instinct back.

Thrusting out his hand, Brendan offered it to

Carl’s…partner. “Brendan Gateman. I’m Jake’s football

Charlie Richards

coach. I apologize for being gobsmacked, but I’ve not been,
well, around people so open about their…” His words failed
him.

“I’m Vincent Androse,” the man stated, accepting

Brendan’s hand. “Carl’s partner.”

“Enough shocking the shit out of you,” Carl stated. He

opened the grill and waved the spatula. “You want a burger
with cheese or no cheese?”

Brendan grabbed onto the change of subject with both

hands and turned to the burgers. “Well, shoot. Is that pepper
jack on some of those?” he asked, eying the white cheese on
some of the burgers as opposed to yellow on several others.

Carl nodded. “Yep. Some don’t like the extra spice, but I

love it.”

“You can have it, then,” Randy cut in. “Give me one with

cheddar.”

“You got it.” Carl plopped one cheddar covered patty

onto Randy’s prepared bun, then he picked up a pepper jack
covered patty with his spatula and held it out. “You want?”

His growling stomach made the decision easy. “Hell,

yeah.”

To Brendan’s surprise, Randy punched him playfully on

the arm. “Now who has a potty mouth?”

Brendan grumbled, “Ha, ha,” then moved toward the

table. He sat a bit down from the bearded guy, who’d
watched the whole proceedings with an oddly amused
gleam in his dark eyes. Randy sat next to him and Brendan
tried to ignore the heat given off by the other man’s body.
He focused on his burger, grunting in appreciation at the
flavors that burst across his tongue.

“Yeah, Carl makes a mean burger,” stated the bearded

fellow. “Just don’t let him grill the steaks.”

Three Point Tuck

Knowing his curiosity was the bane of his existence still

didn’t stop Brendan from swallowing his mouthful of
burger, then asking, “Why is that?”

“Because he always burns them,” Vincent stated, joining

them at the picnic table with a newly filled plate. He smiled
fondly at Carl, who stood just to his left with his own over-
flowing plate.

“Ha, ha,” Carl muttered, glaring at the man.
Except, even Brendan could see that there wasn’t any heat

behind Carl’s look. Vincent chuckled, then patted the bench
next to him. “Come and eat, Carl. Where’s Jake?” he asked,
glancing around, as if the teen would appear if he searched
enough.

Carl took his seat and glanced toward the doorway before

sighing. “In his room with Pete.”

Vincent nodded once. “Door open?”
“Reminded him,” Carl stated, picking up his burger.
Vincent hummed and popped a chip into his mouth.
Randy chuckled. “You want me to take a trip to the john?

I could always check.” He winked.

Grimacing, Carl exchanged looks with Vincent. “Does it

make me a shitty father that I want to say yes?”

“Of course not,” Vincent replied softly, his expression

fond. “You’re a caring father. Loving. Kind. Sweet.” He
reached up and touched Carl’s cheek. “Perfect.”

“Hey! I’m gettin’ a cavity here from all that sweetness.

Get a room, already!” the bearded man grumbled loudly,
even as he smirked.

The pair separated, returning to their plates, but not

before exchanging a sappy-sweet look that really did
threaten Brendan with a cavity. His chest ached with some
unfamiliar sensation. Hell, he wasn’t even certain he wanted
to know what he felt at this very instant, too afraid of what
he might discover.

Charlie Richards

Instead, Brendan focused on his food. The burger tasted

delicious and the side dishes, potato salad, BBQ potato
chips, and dill pickles, rounded out the fantastic meal. God,
when was the last time someone else had cooked his meal?
Well, other than a restaurant, of course. He’d become a pro
at figuring out decently nutritional takeout food.

“Well, since I really do need to take a piss, I’m headed

inside,” Randy stated. He rose and winked at the others.
“Don’t worry. I’ll only listen outside the door and peek
inside if something sounds suspicious.”

Vincent and the bearded fellow laughed outright. Carl

shook his head, even as he smiled. Brendan didn’t know
what to make of these guys. As soon as Randy was out of
earshot, the bearded man held out his hand, saying, “Since
no one has any manners and thought to introduce us. I’m
Ryan Stratton. Carl’s partner.”

“Uh…” Well with an introduction like that, what was

Brendan really supposed to say?

Carl threw his napkin at Ryan. “Stop making the coach

even more uncomfortable,” he chided. Carl caught
Brendan’s eye. “Ryan is my partner on the force, a fellow
detective.” Brendan found himself nodding, even as Carl
added, “And he’s an asshole.”

“Hey, a supportive asshole,” Ryan hollered. “Don’t you

forget that!”

Chuckling, Vincent patted Ryan on the shoulder. “You

have been that. Our thanks.”

Brendan didn’t know if he’d ended up in the twilight

zone, or if he’d been sucked onto the gay version of
Pleasantville. He almost felt grateful when his bladder ached,
reminding him that he hadn’t used the men’s room since
before the game started and he’d downed four cups of
coffee.

Three Point Tuck

After swallowing his last bite of pickle, Brendan rose.

“Well, I actually would like to take a page from Randy’s
book at the moment.” He focused on Carl, since he felt like it
might be more his home than anyone else’s. “Might I use
your men’s room?”

“Sure, man,” Carl responded, giving him an

understanding smile. “Just head inside, to the right of the
dining room, head down the hall. It’s the first door on the
right.”

Brendan forced a smile and nod. “Thanks.” Rising from

the table and heading into the house, it took every ounce of
self-control he possessed not to keep going through the
house to the front door, so he could escape into the street.

Following Carl’s directions, Brendan made it to the

bathroom. His back against the door, he struggled to banish
images of Randy’s wry, amused smile, that sexy curl of his
lips, hoping to get his erection to soften.

Charlie Richards

Chapter Six

andy washed his hands and headed back down the
stairs. When he’d slipped up the steps only a few

minutes before and listened in on the conversation behind
Jake’s partially open door, the teens really had been talking
chemistry. Randy hoped his nephew would be so well
behaved at that age.

“God, I hope he doesn’t take after my sister,” Randy

muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?”
Randy nearly squeaked at the sound of Brendan’s deep

voice behind him. He spun around wildly, tangling his foot
around a chair’s leg. Losing his balance, Randy felt himself
falling. He flung out his arms, trying to stop himself from
slamming his face into the wooden table top.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, ceasing

Randy’s downward movement. From the dark hands
palming his chest and the masculine voice crooning, Easy, it
didn’t take a genius to figure out who held him. Just the idea
caused his breath to hitch in his chest, while Brendan’s
earthy masculine scent caused his cock to stir.

“You okay?” Brendan asked, almost whispering the

words in Randy’s ear.

Randy fought off a shudder, then forced his head to nod.

Swallowing, he mumbled, “You just startled me. That’s all.”

Three Point Tuck

Brendan chuckled softly and eased away from him.

“Okay.”

Peering over his shoulder, Randy muttered, “Well, I could

say you took my breath away and caused me to swoon.”

Oh! Oh, no! Did I really say that out loud? Shit and a half!

Now I know there’s no blood in my big head.

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Randy murmured, struggling to find

his feet and pull away.

Instead of letting him go, Brendan’s grip tightened.

“Stop.”

Randy shivered at the order. Yeah, he’d always been a

glutton for following orders, not that he let just anybody
know that. Still, he couldn’t help but do as commanded.
Randy stilled in Brendan’s grip. He swallowed hard. As
much as he hated to admit it, he could think of only one
reason the man wanted to keep him in his clutches. “You
gonna take a kidney shot or two for making a pass at you?”

Brendan’s fingers tightened on his hip, digging into the

meat there. After a few seconds, a growl rumbled through
his chest. Before Randy could fathom what to say to diffuse
the man’s anger—he really needed to learn to keep his
mouth shut—he found himself spun, pushed, shoved, and
maneuvered. Seconds later, Randy’s back thudded against
the wall and his arms were pinned over his head.

Brendan’s body continued to vibrate with the growls that

rumbled through him, yanking Randy out of his
disorientation. Shit, now he’d really put his foot in it.
“Brendan?”

“Is that what you think of me?” Brendan practically

snarled.

Randy knew he should be afraid, but the way the sexy

African American’s brows furrowed and his dark eyes
glittered instead caused his blood to roar through his veins.
His cock thickened to full mast, making him ache in his

Charlie Richards

jeans. He just managed to keep from thrusting against the
hard body pressing him into the wall.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been turned on

this much from just a man’s voice and the press of his body.
Maybe it had something to do with Brendan’s masculine
scent, or maybe how he was so much bigger and could
manhandle him, if he so chose.

Ah, hell, it’s gotta be how he has my arms pinned over my head,

holding me in place as he stares at me.

“You think I’d kick your ass, because you hit on me?”

Brendan rumbled. “Is that the kind of man you think I am?”

Right, Randy needed to fix whatever insult he’d

inadvertently given. Swallowing hard, forcing moisture into
his throat, he rasped, “No. I mean, I hope not, but I don’t
really know you.”

Brendan hummed and lowered his head, tucking his nose

into the crook of Randy’s neck. Randy instinctively tilted his
head, giving the man more access. His mind reeled,
wondering what the other guy played at even as he felt his
body going pliant with need.

“No one knows me,” Brendan mumbled, right before he

settled his lips against the column of Randy’s throat and
sucked lightly on the pulse point.

“Oh!”
Randy almost breathed the word, his mind quickly

shutting down as Brendan’s lips nipped his delicate flesh
again and again, working his way up. When the man finally
reached Randy’s jaw, he rubbed his lips along the flesh, then
over his cheek. Tingles broke out over Randy’s arms at the
sensual feel of Brendan rubbing his lips and face against his
own.

“Missed this so much,” Brendan murmured.

Three Point Tuck

“M-Missed what?” Randy forced out. Had the man not

taken a lover in a while? How could that be? He was sex on
a stick and twice as hot!

Brendan sighed, the warm breath tickling the fine hairs of

Randy’s ear. The sexy man pressing him against the wall
released his wrists. For a second, Randy keenly felt the loss,
thinking he should have kept his mouth shut. Then, Brendan
slid his palms against Randy’s and threaded their fingers
together.

Still, Brendan didn’t lift his head to look at him. Instead,

he kept his face hidden as he softly replied, “The feel of a
man’s stubble against my own. His hard body pressed
against mine. Strength and power and passion.”

His voice faded away on another sigh, even as he spread

his legs a bit, lowering his body to more firmly align their
groins. The first press of Brendan’s erection against Randy’s
own, even through several layers of fabric, nearly had him
coming in his jeans like a teenager.

Randy groaned, reveling in the heady knowledge that

Brendan was hard…for him. Still, he’d always been a chatty
lover and couldn’t seem to control his mouth. After an
appreciative hum and a slow grind of his hips, Randy
muttered, “That’s hard to believe. You’re so fucking sexy.
You could have anyone you want.”

Brendan froze. His body tensed. His hands tightened

where they clasped Randy’s, squeezing almost painfully. To
Randy’s regret, Brendan ceased the slow nuzzling and lifted
his head. He moved his hips backward, putting space
between their bodies.

Peering down at him, Brendan’s expression was filled

with so much regret it took Randy’s breath away. “I c-can’t,”
Brendan muttered, his eyes slightly glazed with lust, even as
he released Randy’s hands and levered further away.

Charlie Richards

Hating the almost lost look, the pain filling Brendan’s

features, Randy grabbed the man’s shoulders. “Can’t what?”

Brendan swallowed hard, his gaze moving to Randy’s

hands where they held onto him, then back to his face.
Closing his eyes, a shudder worked through Brendan’s big
body. When Brendan opened his eyes back up, Randy’s
heart sank. All the lust, desire, even the pain and regret, was
gone.

Brendan reached up and gently gripped Randy’s hands,

disengaging them from his shoulders. For a second, that
same regret flashed through the handsome man’s eyes. “I’m
sorry, Randy. I can’t be gay. Not in my line of work.”

Randy’s brows creased in confusion. “I don’t understand.

There are plenty of gay teachers.”

Grimacing, Brendan shook his head. “That’s only part of

it.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against
Randy’s. Randy would have opened to the man, but
Brendan was already pulling away. Brendan’s smile
appeared sad. “You’re too good a man to be anyone’s dirty
little secret.” He traced Randy’s jaw for a few seconds, an
odd expression on his face.

“Give my thanks to the hosts,” Brendan whispered. “I

need to leave.”

Before Randy could come up with a response, Brendan

leaned forward again. This time he claimed Randy’s mouth
in a thorough tongue-fucking, thrusting deep, almost
ravishing him. By the time Brendan eased back, sucking
lightly on Randy’s bottom lip for a few seconds before
releasing it, Randy’s cock throbbed in his jeans and his brain
had turned to mush.

Brendan stepped back, leaving Randy panting and

leaning heavily against the wall. “I’m sorry, Randy.”
Without another word, he turned and headed to the front
door which could be seen down the hall.

Three Point Tuck

Randy tracked the man’s progress as he opened the door

and slipped out. Never once did Brendan look back. The soft
click of the door shutting pulled Randy out of his lust-
induced haze. Sighing with disappointment, he tried to
decide if he felt grateful for Brendan’s apparently noble
actions—because, damn, he’d have allowed the man to do
just about anything to him and never told a soul.

Maybe Randy just felt pissed by Brendan’s cowardice.

He’d never understood why some men chose to live buried
in the closet, essentially living only half a life, always hiding,
fearing what would happen if someone learned the truth.

Sighing, Randy rested his head against the wall and

closed his eyes. He mentally reviewed the wounds sustained
by the most recent car accident he’d processed. That did the
trick. His raging erection eased.

Randy opened his eyes and his heart felt as though it

skipped a beat in his chest.

Jake stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Awe, shit!
Deciding blunt often worked best, Randy asked softly,

“How long have you been standing there, Jake?”

“Long enough.” Jake’s brows drew together as he glanced

toward the door where Brendan had disappeared only
moments before. “You and Coach Gateman?”

Randy let out a slow breath. God, how he wished. He’d

love exploring that body, learning what made the handsome
man tick. Instead, he shook his head. “No. He’s in the closet,
Jake. Or he’s bisexual and doesn’t want anyone to know.” As
much as it pained him to say it, he added, “Please, respect
his decision.”

Jake nodded. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you.”
Randy watched Jake head out to the deck. After a few

seconds, where he struggled to come up with some plausible

Charlie Richards

reason to give Carl for Brendan bailing, he followed him. As
soon he stepped outside, Ryan threw a carrot stick at him
and hollered, “So, we freaked Brendan out, after all, huh?”

Scowling, Randy avoided the vegetable projectile and

headed toward them. “Why do you say that?”

“We heard a truck start up not too long ago,” Carl

pointed out. “Now, you’re out here without him. Add in the
fact that his eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider when Vince
kissed me, his palms were sweating, and he couldn’t meet
anyone’s gaze.” He winked. “Hell, it doesn’t take a detective
to figure it out.”

Randy snorted. “Yeah, guess I misread something in

there.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Vincent stated. “If someone can’t

handle us being who we are in our own home, that’s their
problem.” He shrugged. “Not like we’re gonna change for
anyone.”

Even while wishing he could tell his friends the truth,

Randy plopped down onto an open stretch of bench. “Some
people have a harder time than others accepting it. I’m sure
he’ll still be a fair and understanding coach, though.”

Carl looked at Jake anyway. “You let us know if you run

into any problems.”

Jake nodded, saying, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. He already

broke up one fight that might have been bully related. Ross
ain’t talkin’ though, so Coach couldn’t do much.”

Remembering his first introduction to the sexy coach,

Randy nodded. Geez, had that only been that evening?
Suddenly, he felt tired. Very, very tired. Turning, he looked
around for Toby. Not seeing him, he asked about his
nephew’s whereabouts.

“Lorna took him inside not long ago. They’re playing

video games,” Carl told him.

Three Point Tuck

Randy covered his mouth with a hand, hiding his yawn.

“Damn, been a long day. And work tomorrow is gonna kick
my ass.” He rubbed his fingers over his temples, trying to
ease the headache he could feel coming on.

“You work tomorrow?” Vincent asked. After Randy

nodded, the fireman asked, “What about Toby?”

Sighing, Randy grimaced. “My neighbor said she’d come

over and watch him while I’m at work and I managed to get
Clint to come in three hours early to finish out my shift, so it
won’t be all day.”

“Damn,” Ryan frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Candice sure put you in a tight spot.”

Randy shrugged. It wasn’t like it was anything new.
Jake lifted a hand, drawing his father’s attention. “Hey, I

thought I’d let you know that Pete is headed home. His
mom’s coming to get him in thirty minutes,” he called over
his shoulder as he walked back into the house.

“This isn’t the first time Candice has done this?” Ryan

stated, returning to Randy’s predicament.

Shaking his head, Randy replied, “It’s just the way she is.

Although,” he grumbled, unable to help his scowl, “this is
the first time she left him alone on my doorstep. I just about
wanted to wring her neck.”

“Damn!” Carl’s one word explicative pretty much

summed it up.

Vincent grimaced. “God, that’s so fucking dangerous.

What the hell was she thinking?”

Randy snorted. “My guess is she didn’t want to be late for

her damn dinner date.”

“What?” Ryan snapped. The bearded man’s brown eyes

narrowed. “That’s wrong, man. So damn wrong! Like, child
neglect wrong.”

Sighing again, Randy massaged the bridge of his nose

with two fingers, mumbling, “Not sure what I can do about

Charlie Richards

it. I’d take him in permanently, if I could, but no judge is
gonna take a kid away from his mother and put him with a
gay man, uncle or not.”

Standing, Carl motioned for him to follow him into the

house even as he said, “Why don’t you leave Toby here,
tonight? We have plenty of space, and both me and Vincent
are off tomorrow. We’ve been talking about taking Lorna to
the zoo for ages. We’d be happy to take Toby, too.”

Randy’s brows shot up at the offer. “Really?” God, that

would just be too good to be true. “You don’t mind?”

Carl shook his head, even as he yanked open a kitchen

drawer. Looking over the other man’s shoulder, Randy
watched the detective pull out a stack of business cards and
start flipping through them. “No, we’d be happy to take
him,” Carl muttered almost absently, most of his focus on
whatever he searched for. Finally, he found what he wanted
and tossed the rest back into the drawer. Slamming it shut
with his hip, Carl turned and grinned. “Besides, I love the
enthusiasm kids have for animals at that age. It’s awesome
to watch.”

A thought occurred to Randy, and he shook his head.

“Wait, I don’t have clothes for Toby here. How about I drop
him off in the morning? I go to work at eight, so it’d be
early.”

“That’s fine,” Carl agreed. He held out the business card.

“This is a friend of mine, Patrick Dolcet. He’s a child custody
lawyer. If you really get serious about trying to get custody
of Toby, call him. He’ll be upfront about whether or not you
actually have a shot.”

Randy’s heart pounded in his chest and his mouth

suddenly went dry. Sure, he’d toyed with the idea a time or
two in the dark of the night when Candice had done
something stupid, hurtful, or neglectful, but could he really
do that to his sister? He didn’t have the answer to that.

Three Point Tuck

Reaching out, Randy took the card anyway.

When Candice didn’t show to pick up Toby until Monday

night, Randy called and made an appointment.

Charlie Richards

Chapter Seven

rendan tossed his keys in the candy dish sitting on the
small table by the door and hung his jacket in the hall

closet. The days were getting colder, and he already dreaded
winter. Nights got long and lonely on cold winter evenings.

Crossing to the kitchen, he pulled out a plastic container

full of leftover pot roast, spooned a heaping serving into a
bowl, and shoved it into the microwave to heat. Next, he
grabbed a beer, popped the cap, and leaned against the
counter. Taking a swig, he savored the slide of the bitter
brew going down his throat.

As he did every Thursday evening, he wondered who the

paramedics volunteering for the next evening’s game would
be. Would it be Randy and Wade’s turn again? Even as he
dreaded seeing Randy again, he longed for it as well.

Brendan found his thoughts turning to the man often. It

wasn’t even wondering what the sex would be like, because
he knew it’d be fantastic. Probably the best he’d ever
had…far better than the fumbling hand and blow jobs he’d
gotten in the back rooms of dingy clubs.

He’d kissed the man, intending to show him how much

he regretted the way things were, even as he said good-bye.
That was the first kiss he’d ever had with another man.
Randy’s masculine taste had nearly blown his resolve to do
the right thing and walk away. Now, he hated that he knew
what he was missing.

Three Point Tuck

Oddly enough, he found he wanted to know Randy’s

interests, too, his likes and dislikes. What kind of music did
he listen to? What did he do for fun? Did he prefer beer or
wine? Looking at the time on the microwave tick down, he
wondered if the man would like his pot roast.

Scoffing at his musings, Brendan shook his head at

himself.

Just as the microwave dinged, his cell phone went off.

Seeing the read-out, he accepted the call and held it to his
ear. “Hey, Pops. How are ya?”

“Hey, Son,” Arnold Gateman greeted. “How’s the new

job treating you?”

Smiling faintly, Brendan knew what his father really

wanted to know. “Pretty good. The kids are working hard.
We’ve won two and lost one. I’m optimistic for tomorrow’s
game.”

“That’s great, Brendan. You, uh—”
Brendan heard his father clear his throat and he just knew

what was coming.

“You dating anyone?”
Yep. That was what he’d thought his Pops was leading up

to.

Shaking his head, Brendan opened the microwave and

pulled out his bowl while answering, “No, Pops. I’m not
dating anyone.” Even as he said it, his thoughts turned to
Randy. What would happen if he told his father who he
really wanted to date?

“You’re not getting any younger,” Arnold pointed out.
Brendan stirred his food absently, glaring at it. “I’m

twenty-eight, Dad.”

Arnold sighed, the sound coming clearly through the line.

“I just hate seeing you alone, Brendan. You know that.”

“What if you didn’t approve of who I dated?”
Oh, God. Did I just blurt that out?

Charlie Richards

“You know I wouldn’t care if some cute little white girl

caught your eye, Son,” Arnold chided. “I’m not racist. You
like who you like.”

Brendan’s eyelids slid closed as he struggled to keep

breathing evenly. He bet his pops wouldn’t be saying that if
he knew it was a cute little white boy.

Damn it. What am I doing even thinking about this?
“Well, there’s nothing to tell,” Brendan stated gruffly.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Arnold returned, his voice

low.

Knowing he had to get his shit together, Brendan carried

his bowl to the table. Forcing a smile, knowing his father
would be able to hear it in his voice, he said, “I know, Pops. I
didn’t mean to snap.” Needing a subject change, he asked,
“How is everyone?”

The rest of his family still lived an hour and a half north.

While he did miss seeing them, he enjoyed having a bit more
freedom. Except, as he peered around the room, he realized
he wasn’t really using that freedom. Geez, he needed to get
out more.

“Everyone here is good,” his father told him. “Well, I can

tell there’s something bothering Carmen, but damned if I
can figure it out. He’s doesn’t come around nearly as often
anymore.”

Tapping his spoon on the table, Brendan thought about

that. “Is he seeing someone?”

“I asked him that, but couldn’t get a straight answer from

the boy.”

Brendan knew Carmen was twenty-four, so hardly a boy

anymore. Still, their father probably referred to all of them
that way.

“He’s always confided in you,” Arnold continued.

“Maybe you could give him a call?”

“I’ll do that, Pops.”

Three Point Tuck

They chatted for a while longer, Brendan sharing

entertaining snippets of things that had happened in the
health class he taught. When he finally rang off, he had to
reheat his pot roast.

As he ate, his thoughts went right back to where they

always did when unoccupied…to Randy.

God, I’ve met the man once and I can’t get him off my mind.
Then a new thought occurred to him.

If I fuck the man, maybe this obsession will pass.
Only to be followed by—Probably not. Then I’ll know what

I’m missing…like the damned kiss.

Beyond frustrated, Brendan moved to the living room and

turned on the TV, hoping a little mindless television would
ease his frustration.

“Hey, sorry I’m running late,” Dan called, almost running

into the office. “I was giving Coal a shopping list.” He
grabbed the clipboard and grinned. “Barbeque at my place
after the game.”

Well, Brendan had just been thinking he needed to get out

more. He nodded as he stood and grabbed his jacket.
“Sounds like fun.” Heading out the door and toward the
locker room, he asked, “Need me to bring anything?”

Dan shook his head. “Naw. Coal will get more than

enough of everything imaginable,” he stated, chuckling.

Brendan nodded, then asked, “Who’s Coal?”
“My brother.”
Reaching the locker room, Brendan almost asked why

Dan hadn’t mentioned that he had a brother before. Then, he
heard the unmistakable chanting of fight, fight, fight. “Son of
a bitch,” he snarled under his breath and he broke into a run,
Dan right behind him.

Brendan sprinted inside and—after a quick glance

around—saw the teenagers crowding around the far end of

Charlie Richards

the room. Running that way, he began to make out
individual voices.

“You wanna look at my dick so bad, maybe I’ll give you a

real close look. Wanna suck me, fag boy?”

Another teen laughed coldly. “I think he likes that idea.”
“Come on, Cory,” another guy rumbled quietly. “Leave

him alone.”

“You a fag lover, now, Drew?” Cory snapped.
“Maybe he’s really a fag, too,” came that deep voice

again. Brendan guessed it was Vaughn. He and Cory often
hung out together.

“I’m a fag. You gonna beat me up next?” came another

voice that Brendan guessed to be Jake.

“He’s gonna get himself beaten, or worse,” Dan growled

from right behind Brendan.

Grunting in acknowledgment, Brendan began pushing

through the crowd. The teens’ eyes widened and they
quickly fell back. When the last of them parted, revealing the
scene, Brendan saw Cory just pulling his leg back, obviously
ready to kick Ross—who was on his hands and knees.
Vaughn was advancing on Jake, and Drew’s mouth hung
open as he looked between the two, obviously trying to
decide what to do, if anything.

Brendan roared, “Back away from Ross, Cory. Vaughn,

that’s enough.” The boys jerked around to peer at him, jaws
gaping. They didn’t move. Growling low in his throat,
Brendan curled his lip. “You’re already on the bench this
game. You wanna make it two?”

While Vaughn paled, Cory’s face went red. “You can’t do

that,” Cory snapped.

“This school has a zero bully policy and it’s the same on

my team,” Brendan stated coldly. “Both of you, get dressed,
gather you’re things, and go wait outside my office.”

“I ain’t gettin’ undressed in front of a bunch of fags.”

Three Point Tuck

“You’d better watch your mouth, Cory,” Dan snarled.
Brendan just resisted casting a surprised look at his

defensive coordinator. The vehemence in the man’s tone
certainly surprised him. Instead, he stated, “I don’t give a
shit how you feel about sharing a locker room with gays,
Cory, but since there’s at least one of them in here—”

“Two, Sir,” Ross mumbled from where he now sat on a

bench.

Nodding, Brendan tried to ignore the stab of shame he

felt.

God. These boys have the balls to come out and I’m still hiding.
Brendan swept his gaze around at the assembled

teenagers. Most wouldn’t meet his eye. Raising his voice, he
hollered, “I ought to go out and tell the other team we
forfeit.” That elicited several gasps, a few cringes, and most
of the guys finally lifted their heads to stare right back at
him. Good. Now he had their attention. “But I won’t.”
Narrowing his eyes, he gruffly continued, “This is a football
team. You play a sport together. That has absolutely no
bearing on who you all decide you find attractive. I don’t
give a shit who you all wanna date. I care about how you
work together to play ball. If you can’t put your differences
aside to get the job done, I don’t want you on my team. Is
that clear to everyone?”

After receiving a number of yes sirs, Brendan returned his

focus back to Cory and Vaughn and snarled, “Why haven’t
you two moved, yet?”

While Vaughn yanked off his padded leggings and

reached for his jeans, Cory just grabbed his duffle and
stalked out, shoving aside other players as he went. Brendan
turned and headed after him, saying to Dan, “Take Ross to
the paramedics. I’ll be up shortly.”

“Will do,” Dan replied grimly.

Charlie Richards

Brendan strode out of the locker room and turned toward

his office. A red-faced Cory stood outside with his arms
crossed, his bag at his feet. Shoving open his door, Brendan
motioned Cory inside and pointed toward a chair. “Have a
seat.”

“This is bullshit,” Cory mumbled even as he sat.
Ignoring the teen took more effort than Brendan cared to

admit. He pulled out a pad of paper with the school’s logo
on it and wrote a note explaining why the running back was
not eligible to play that game. Once complete, he tore it off
and held it out to Cory. “I’m sure you’ll read it, so I won’t
bother with an envelope. Give this to your parents.” When
Cory took it and stood, Brendan added, “You’re welcome to
sit on the bench with the rest of the team if you can keep a
civil tongue in your head.”

Cory looked like he wanted to cuss Brendan out, but

instead ground out, “No, thank you, Coach.”

As Cory stormed out, he shoved past Vaughn, who stood

uncertainly in the doorway. Brendan waved him in and
went through the process again. At least, this teenager
seemed more open to change…or so he hoped.

When Brendan strode by the locker room again, the boys

were subdued, sitting on benches and talking quietly. Not
the energy level needed to win a football game, Brendan
realized. He also knew just what to do about it.

“Coach?”
Brendan turned toward the speaker, taking in Drew’s

obvious discomfort as he shifted restlessly from foot to foot.

“Yes, Drew?”
“I should really be banned from this game, too, Coach,”

Drew murmured, glancing up to meet his gaze before
lowering his focus back to the floor. “I shoulda stopped ’em
sooner.”

Three Point Tuck

Brendan eyed the young man, finding himself impressed

by the teen’s honesty. “I appreciate you saying something,
Drew.”

Drew ducked his head and nodded.
Resting his hand on Drew’s shoulder, Brendan squeezed

lightly. “However, I heard you telling them to back off, so I
know you knew what they were doing was wrong. Pick
better friends next time,” he advised.

His brows lifted, Drew’s surprise was evident. “Yeah.

Okay.”

Stepping deeper into the locker room, referring to the

other team, Brendan hollered, “Let’s go, boys. Time to kick
some Cougar ass!”

The guys exchanged looks. Grins lit their faces as they all

cheered and shouted.

Now, that’s more like it.
Smiling with satisfaction, Brendan pointed toward the

door. “Let’s get out there and show ’em what we’re made
of!”

The boys started moving, jogging toward the exit, and he

followed behind.

When Brendan reached the field, he peeled away from the

boys and headed toward the medical tent, needing to see
how Ross was doing. Rounding the side of the tent, he
almost missed a step when he heard the voice that had
haunted his every waking moment—as well as his dreams—
for the past several weeks.

Randy Coughlan!
Brendan’s pulse sped up as blood flooded to his dick.

Groaning softly, he glanced around, then quickly adjusted
himself before pulling his jacket closed and zipping it up. He
took a slow breath, struggling to compose himself, then
headed around the corner and inside the tent.

Charlie Richards

Even knowing beforehand that the man he’d somehow

become obsessed with was inside, Brendan still felt his body
flush hot at the sight of the lean Caucasian male. Randy
grinned at Ross while holding out a sucker and saying,
“You’re in luck. I had tucked this one in my bag for Toby,
then forgot to give it to him. Enjoy.”

Ross snorted and took the sucker. “I was kidding,” he

muttered.

Randy patted his knee. “I know.”
“How’s Ross doing?” Brendan asked, stopping to stand

next to Dan.

Dan gave him a small smile. “Bruised ribs, but nothing’s

broken.”

At the sound of Brendan’s voice, Randy turned. His eyes

narrowed and he strode toward him, stopping and scowling
at him.

Brendan really wanted to kiss that look off the cute man’s

face.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Randy cocked a brow

and stated flatly, “You know you have a couple of assholes
on that team of yours. You doin’ something to put a stop to
this shit?” Randy waved his hand toward Ross, indicating
his injuries.

Shock hit Brendan hard at Randy’s combative stance and

blatantly argumentative words. Just as quickly, it turned into
irritation. How dare Randy question his ability to coach?
Controlling thirty plus rowdy, testosterone-filled teenagers
was no easy feat.

Brendan narrowed his eyes and bent down a bit, getting

right in the other man’s face. “And there again with that
mouth of yours,” he growled. “Once the problem with the
boys is taken care of, maybe I’ll devote my time to
controlling your mouth.” He leaned a little closer, his body
nearly vibrating with an almost irresistible urge to again

Three Point Tuck

taste the lips of the man he stared down. Would they be as
fantastic as he remembered? “What do you think of that?”

Randy’s lips quirked up into a smirk as he replied, “You

couldn’t handle it, hot stuff.”

“The hell I couldn’t,” he instantly snapped.
“Uh, if you’re gonna suck face, could you get it over

with?”

Wade’s grumbled comment cut through Brendan’s haze.

Jerking back, his eyes widened. Fucking hell! What was he
thinking? Lowering his gaze to the ground, he muttered,
Sorry, turned on his heel, and left. From the corner of his eye,
he noted the looks exchanged between the men as well as
Ross’s wide-eyed expression.

Damn it! I’ve never lost control of myself like that!
Stalking from the tent, Brendan headed toward his team,

trying to put the incident out of his mind…at least for the
time being.

Hours later, Brendan still mentally fumed over his lack of

control as he parked his truck outside Dan’s home. He sure
as hell hoped his friend had beer. Even though their team
had won, he’d had an uncomfortable conversation with
Melissa DeWitts, the school’s principal about Ross, the
fighting in the locker room, and his decision to bench Cory
and Vaughn.

At least she backs my decision.
Brendan headed from his truck and strode up the walk.

When he reached the door, he could hear music thumping
from inside. He rang the bell, all the while wondering if Dan
would even be able to hear it. To his surprise, it was only a
moment before the door was yanked open.

He couldn’t help it. His jaw sagged open in surprise at the

stranger who peered up at him. The man stood probably a
half a foot shorter than him, had red highlights streaking

Charlie Richards

through his brown hair, and his hazel eyes twinkled as he
said, “Hey, there, handsome. You must be Brendan
Gateman. My brother’s told me so much about you. Come
on in. Most everyone’s in the back. Can I get you a drink?”

Brendan snapped his mouth closed and mutely followed

the guy inside. When he reached a kitchen, he finally pulled
his head out of his ass enough to ask for a beer. The man
handed a bottle to him just as the sliding door behind the
dining room table opened and Dan popped his head in,
yelling, “Coal! Where’d you leave the spatula?” His buddy’s
brows shot up upon seeing him. “Oh, hey, Brendan. I didn’t
realize you’d arrived. Did Coal introduce himself or did he
just talk your ear off?”

The slender man snorted and flipped Dan off. “Whatever.

You left the spatula in the sink.” Grabbing a plate loaded
with veggies, the man sashayed—actually sashayed—past
Dan and outside onto the deck.

Dan chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry about that,” he

said, closing the door, leaving them alone in the kitchen. “At
least he got you a beer,” he stated while rounding the
counter and grabbing the spatula from the sink.

“T-That’s your brother?”
“Yep, that’s Coal. Out, loud, and proud,” Dan stated,

chuckling. He leaned his hip on the counter and tilted his
head as he swept his gaze over Brendan in such a way that
he actually felt uncomfortable. “So, you’re in the closet?
Bisexual? Don’t want to admit you have the hots for
Randy?”

Brendan choked on the sip of beer he’d just taken. It took

a second, but finally he gasped, “What?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Look. There’s enough sexual tension

between you both to fill an Olympic size swimming pool. Is
there something going on between you two?”

“N-No, I’m not—” The words choked in his throat.

Three Point Tuck

A wry smile curved Dan’s lips. He tapped the counter

with his knuckles and stated, “You might want to rethink
your position, then, because there is no mistaking the sparks
between you and Randy.” Pushing away from the counter,
Dan led the way toward the back. “And for the record, he
wants you, too.” Dan grinned and pulled open the door. Just
before stepping out, he added under his breath, “Oh, and
fair warning. Randy’s already here.”

Brendan froze in the doorway. He knew he must look like

a deer caught in the headlights, but he couldn’t help it. Dan
had pegged him so easily. Could others tell, too? Would it be
so bad if his close friends knew the truth? Obviously, Dan
wouldn’t care. It didn’t mean he’d have to tell the whole
world.

Even as those thoughts swirled through his mind, with

unerring accuracy, Brendan’s gaze found its way to Randy.
The man was seated on a chaise lounge, chatting with Coal.
As if he knew he was being watched, Randy paused in mid-
sentence and turned to look at him.

The flash of heat in Randy’s eyes was unmistakable.

Brendan’s body heated in response to it. He knew he’d have
to make a decision, and damn fast. Then, upon seeing Coal
settle his hand on Randy’s arm to regain his attention,
Brendan knew the decision had already been made.

The flash of jealousy told Brendan that, one way or

another, he needed to lay claim to that man.

Charlie Richards

Chapter Eight

mm, don’t look now,” Coal crooned. An appreciative
smile curved his freshly applied gloss-covered lips as

he peered at something near the house.

Randy tilted his head and drained his beer. Once he

swallowed, he tapped the empty bottle against the inside of
his

thigh,

seriously

considering

going

get

another…several. Surely Coal would be good enough to give
him a ride home if he got a bit tipsy.

Wait, what had Coal said? “What am I not supposed to be

looking at?” Randy asked. Just as he finished asking the
question, the hairs on his arms prickled and he felt as though
he were being watched.

Coal hummed. “The sexy new football coach is making

eyes at you, Randy-baby. Have you been holding out on
me?”

Randy sure as hell wished his friend was right. For every

free second of the last three and a half hours, he’d agonized
over the altercation he’d had with Brendan in the tent. Hell,
he’d agonized for the past three weeks about the altercation
at Carl’s house. Still, he shouldn’t have taunted Brendan in
the tent like that. Except, Randy had examined Ross, easily
seeing the beginnings of what he knew from experience
would be extensive bruising on his torso. When the coach
had walked into the tent, Randy had been so angry. He’d

“M

Three Point Tuck

wanted to know the man was doing something to stop the
possibility of future attacks.

Too bad I didn’t find a better way to go about it.
Now, Randy could only guess at how Brendan would

avoid him…maybe like the plague. Except, wait a minute. If
Brendan was avoiding him, what was he doing here…at
Dan’s barbeque.

His skin tingling, Randy lifted his head and looked

toward the door. His breath caught in his throat. Not
because he thought Brendan was sex on a stick—his long,
lean body encased in form-fitting jeans, his arms filling out
that thigh-length jacket that had been the bane of Randy’s
existence more than once. Instead, it was because of the
heated look on the man’s face as their gazes locked, jolting
lust through his system.

Randy’s dick thickened swiftly in his jeans. For a few

seconds, he found his focus locked with the other man’s.

Coal’s light touch to the arm and smugly whispered,

“Told ya so,” finally allowed Randy to gain some semblance
of self-control. He managed to yank his gaze away from the
sexy man staring at him and refocused on his friend.

A smirk curved up the corners of Coal’s shining lips. His

gaze flicked over Randy’s shoulder, then back to Randy. He
pursed his lips and blew him a kiss. “I’ll get you a beer,
sweetie.” With a wink, he rose and sauntered away.

Unable to help himself, his mind a bit frozen with shock,

Randy stared after his friend. His brows shot up at the way
Coal exaggeratedly swayed his hips. He went right past
Brendan where the man stood by the grill getting a burger.
Randy had no clue what Coal said to the guy, but Brendan’s
brows drew together as he cast a quick glance in Randy’s
direction—although, this time, he didn’t meet Randy’s
gaze—then returned his focus to Coal.

What the hell was his friend playing at?

Charlie Richards

Sighing with frustration, Randy decided he just needed to

ignore them both. He settled comfortably on his chaise
lounge, his head facing forward. His gaze slid to half-mast
as he peered at the pines on the edge of Dan’s lawn.
Although the man always claimed he lived in an
apartment—maybe because he rented this place—in
actuality, he lived in a two bedroom cottage on the outskirts
of town in a gated community. The ten or so homes in the
area shared a central, six-acre, wooded lot that had a
plethora of running trails.

Dan had once told him that jogging every morning was

what kept him in shape so he attracted the hotties he liked to
fuck on the weekends he didn’t have Luke. Yeah, they’d
been drunk that night.

The plastic straps making up the chair across from him

squeaked, announcing Coal’s return. Randy didn’t bother
looking toward his friend. He smiled. “You got that beer?
I’m thinking a night to forget that stupidity in the tent I told
you about might be in order.”

For a second, Randy didn’t get a response. He wondered

what quip his friend was coming up with. Instead, the next
words were in a deep, husky tone that caused his skin to
tingle and his heart to thud.

“I don’t think what happened in the tent was stupid. In

fact, I still plan to do something about that mouth of yours.”

Randy’s eyes snapped wide in shock. His head jerked

around. With wide eyes, he took in Brendan’s cool
expression, belying the heat that still sparked in the other
man’s deep brown eyes. The expression ignited a fire low in
Randy’s belly. His cock—already half hard—firmed the rest
of the way in his jeans.

Finally gaining some control over his tongue, Randy

gasped, “W-What?”

Three Point Tuck

Okay, that was lame. If he had enough blood in his

system left to blush, he probably would. Except, then
Brendan smirked, took a nice long, slow look up and down
Randy’s body, then leaned in close to whisper, “So, all I
gotta do is tie up your tongue with lust. I’ll have to
remember that.”

Brendan leaned closer.
Randy stiffened. His brows shot up as he watched the

sexy man he desperately wanted to taste again—yet, he’d
vowed never to go back in the closet for anyone…and fuck
his life had become so very complicated these past few
weeks.

“What are you doing?” he whispered hoarsely, his gaze

riveted to Brendan’s full lips as he leaned closer and closer.

Brendan’s mouth curled into a larger smile, even as he

drew nearer. Randy found himself frozen to his chair. He
wanted to reach for the man. Yet, if he did, would Brendan
realize what he was doing? Was this already some beer-
induced dream?

Rough fingertips traced down Randy’s jawline. “Easy

there, Randy,” Brendan crooned. “Don’t panic on me. You’re
okay.”

Randy shook his head slightly, just enough to get his

brain to focus. Not enough to dislodge those wonderfully
calloused fingers from his cheek. “What are you doing?
What are you talking about?” He shook his head again, this
time moving back a bit and away from Brendan’s distracting
touch so he could think. “You don’t want this.”

Brendan smiled a bit and leaned back, his body settling

more firmly in his chair. “I think it’s time for that hot dog.
Coal said you love them with mayonnaise and ketchup,
which I gotta tell you, I think is kinda weird.” He offered a
bun-wrapped dog. “Hope I got it right.”

Charlie Richards

Confused by first Brendan’s aggression, then his retreat,

Randy absently took the food. He glanced at it, noting the
man had indeed gotten it like he wanted. “Uh, yeah.”

“Good,” Brendan murmured. “Eat.”
Randy obeyed and took a bite, which seemed to greatly

please Brendan. Upon swallowing, he finally managed to
unravel his thoughts enough to ask, “What the hell,
Brendan? What are you doing?” Lowering his voice, he
muttered, “I respected your decision and right now you’re
putting that in jeopardy by acting like this.”

Brendan smiled, the move showing just the beginnings of

laugh lines around his dark eyes. “And I thank you for that.”

Glancing around, Randy swept his gaze over Dan and

Coal, who currently spoke quietly together by the grill. The
faint chime of a doorbell heralded the arrival of someone,
and Coal headed inside to answer.

A rough hand cupped Randy’s jaw and turned his

attention back to Brendan. Once again, Brendan leaned close,
so very close, tempting Randy. The other man rubbed his
thumb over Randy’s bottom lip, making Randy gasp in
surprise.

Brendan’s gaze seemed riveted to Randy’s mouth as he

whispered, “I know we need to talk, but your mouth has
been distracting me for weeks now. I haven’t been able to
get you, kissing you, out of my mind,” Brendan admitted.

The man’s words completely blew Randy’s preconceived

notions about this self-contained man. The man was in the
closet, hiding who he found attractive, so what was Brendan
doing?

Leaning closer, Brendan held his gaze steadily as he

stated, “I’d never kissed a man before you, Randy.”

Randy’s jaw sagged open a bit in Brendan’s grip.

“Never?” How could that be? The man kissed like a pro.

Three Point Tuck

“I’ve never had a man tempt me like you do, Randy. You

make me want to give in to desires I’ve never allowed
myself to experience before,” Brendan crooned. “I want—”
Finally, the man’s words seemed to fail him, and his brows
furrowed.

Taking a page from Brendan’s book, Randy took a chance

and finally reached for the man. Brendan obviously needed
something. The real question was, would it be something
Randy could give him? As Brendan had said before, Randy
never wanted to be anyone’s secret. Just how serious was
Brendan?

Randy rested his hand on Brendan’s shoulder, his thumb

on the edge of the shirt’s fabric. He flexed his hand just a bit,
sliding the pad of his thumb under the edge, gliding along
warm flesh. “Maybe we should go somewhere and talk
about what you really want, Brendan.” He realized this
wasn’t a conversation they needed an audience for.

Brendan’s shoulders tensed for a second, then eased.

“Okay. How about we eat, then head to your place. Can we
do that?”

“Yeah,” Randy replied. “I’d like that.”
The pair lapsed into silence, and Randy ate the hot dog

Brendan had brought him while the other man downed a
cheeseburger. Every time he glanced at his dinner
companion, he found Brendan watching him. The man
would smile and return his focus to his food.

Randy couldn’t help but feel like a teenager again,

anticipating what base his date would let him get to once
they got to his bedroom. He had to remind himself, several
times, that he didn’t even know if they’d do anything. Well,
he was fairly certain he’d at least get to kiss the man again.
Would Brendan think it was as good as the first time
around?

Shit. No pressure.

Charlie Richards

To Randy’s relief, the guys left them alone and soon he

and Brendan said their good-byes.

Randy pulled into his driveway and clicked the button for

his garage door opener. Once the door lifted enough, he
eased his Challenger inside, all the while watching Brendan
park his truck in the driveway behind him. Shoving out of
his car, he stood beside the vehicle as he watched Brendan
seem to gather himself.

He’d just about decided that Brendan had changed his

mind when the truck’s door opened and the man slid from
his vehicle. He gave Randy a sheepish smile as he strode
toward him, his rolling gait showing off his long, muscular
legs.

“Sorry, I’m a bit nervous,” Brendan rumbled.
Nodding, Randy yanked his gaze away from the man’s

attractive body and met his gaze. He gave him a reassuring
smile and led the way to the interior door. “We don’t have to
do anything you don’t want,” Randy assured. “If you just
wanna talk, that’s what we’ll do.”

Brendan followed.
Randy heard the door close. “Do you want—”
Strong hands gripped his shoulders and spun him. Randy

grunted in surprise as he suddenly found his back slammed
into the wall with Brendan covering his front. A sense of
déjà vu filled him when he met Brendan’s dark, glittering
eyes. Once again, the man threaded their fingers together
and his arms were lifted over his head.

“Brendan?” Randy asked softly.
“Do you have any idea how much I regretted walking

away that day?”

Randy’s brows shot up. “R-Really?” Damn, how did this

man tie up his tongue like that? Just a few words and Randy
struggled to breathe, let alone think or speak.

Three Point Tuck

“Oh, yes,” Brendan replied. “All I could think about for

days was what would have happened if I hadn’t walked
away.”

Licking his lips, Randy swallowed and forced himself to

come up with some response. Something important was
going on here, and he needed the man to be sure. “You had
good reason for walking away, Brendan,” he reminded the
man.

Brendan nodded. “I thought I did, but I’ve had a lot of

time to think.”

“About what?”
“About what it’d be like to kiss you. To hold you.”

Brendan’s gaze swept down Randy’s body, obviously taking
in his chest. “I wanna see if your chest is sculpted with
muscle, just like I believe it is. I wanna trace the ridges of
your abs. Are your nipples sensitive? Do you like to have
them played with?” Brendan returned his focus to Randy’s
eyes. “I want everything with you. Is that so wrong?”

“No,” Randy immediately replied.
Brendan stiffened. His expression closing down.
Realizing Brendan misunderstood, Randy tightened his

grip on the man’s hands before he could pull them away.
“No, there’s nothing wrong with any of that,” he quickly
clarified. “Anyone who says otherwise is the one in the
wrong.”

Brendan’s tension eased. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he

swallowed hard. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” Brendan
whispered. “I want to feel.”

Randy swallowed hard, needing to ask just one thing. “Is

this a one night stand, so you can get me out of your system?
Or are you looking for something more?” As he held his
breath, waiting for an answer, Randy wasn’t entirely certain
which response he wanted.

Charlie Richards

Randy knew Brendan wasn’t ready to step out of the

closet, no matter what his actions here and now might say.
With that in mind, a secret liaison with the man could cause
problems with his plan to gain custody of Toby, even if it
would be a hell of a good time. Maybe a one night stand
would be better. Unfortunately, with the way his body
vibrated every time he got near the sexy coach, causing his
prick to stand at attention, Randy wasn’t certain if one time
would be enough. How could he manage to ignore the guy
the next time they were together when he knew what
Brendan’s body felt like against his own?

“I-I’m not sure, Randy,” Brendan murmured. “I want to

be honest. I don’t think this is just a need for sex to me.”

Randy’s brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of not

only Brendan’s words, but of the expression on his face. He
saw confusion, frustration, and lust. Plenty of lust. Nodding,
Randy decided to throw the man a bone. “Okay, how about
we talk once we take care of the physical need and we can
both think a little more clearly?”

He punctuated his idea by rocking his hips. He pressed

his erection against Brendan’s, pleased to find it equally
hard behind the man’s fly. Sparks shot up Randy’s spine and
he hissed out a breath between his teeth.

Brendan’s body shuddered against Randy’s own, his hips

bucking, increasing the pressure and friction. “Y-Yeah,
yeah,” Brendan grunted. “C-Can hardly think when you’re
this close. You do something to me, make me so hot,” he
continued to mutter, almost absently. “I like knowing you’re
just as hot for me.”

Closing the distance between their bodies, Brendan

blanketed Randy from thigh to clasped hands. He tucked his
face against Randy’s, nuzzling his cheek. Their five o’clock
shadows rasped against each other, sending tingles down
Randy’s neck and causing his nipples to bead.

Three Point Tuck

Randy’s balls pulled tight. His skin goose bumped. He

shivered as Brendan continued moving against him. The
man rutting against him shuddered hard, groaning in his ear
and whispering his name.

Holy shit! Brendan just came!
The knowledge hit Randy hard as he listened to the

throaty grunts and sighs escaping the man still moving
against him, lost in the throes of his orgasm. Randy’s cock
ached, his balls throbbed, and he realized he was on the
verge of coming as well. When Brendan’s slowing ruts
applied sustained pressure to his throbbing cock, combined
with the sexy sounds his new lover made, plus his heat and
masculine scent blanketing him, Randy knew he was about
to drop over that same edge.

Randy grunted, seeing no reason to fight it. Heat and

pleasure suffused his system as his dick unloaded in his
boxers. For several seconds, Randy allowed himself to just
float on the currents of bliss pinging through his system.
Finally, he grinned, turned his head, and pressed a soft kiss
to the corner Brendan’s jaw.

“I haven’t done that in years,” Randy admitted.

Charlie Richards

Chapter Nine

rendan struggled to gain control of his breathing,
except every breath he took was infused with Randy’s

scent, Randy’s heat, and—holy fucking hell—he’d just come
in his briefs, rutting against the man like a teen making out
for the first time. Embarrassment slipped into his veins,
except then he felt Randy’s lips brush against his jaw and
heard him whisper in his ear.

Unable to help the satisfied smile from curving his lips,

Brendan lifted his head. “That was so fucking hot.”

Randy smirked. “Now who’s got the potty mouth?”
Brendan chuckled. “Just calling it like I see it.”
Nodding, Randy replied, “You’d be right, then.” His

expression turned rueful. “Of course, we probably should
think about cleaning up or it’s gonna get real uncomfortable,
real fast.”

Brendan nodded, even as his focus remained on the other

man’s lips. “Wanna kiss you first. That okay with you?”
He’d heard somewhere that some men didn’t kiss. He’d
actually felt that way himself for a long time, since the only
thing he ever did was fumble in dark corners with strangers.
He sure as hell hadn’t wanted to do something so intimate
as kissing with one of them.

Randy, though…Randy was different. That one taste,

stolen without permission, had Brendan craving the man.

Three Point Tuck

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that,” Randy replied, his voice

becoming huskier, telling Brendan that the sexy smaller man
really liked that idea.

Swallowing hard, Brendan stared at the lips he’d been

obsessing over for the last several weeks. He knew if he did
this, there’d be no going back. Getting off with another man
could no longer just be classified as scratching an itch…but
he wanted Randy so badly. This man, this slender Caucasian
paramedic, had gotten under his skin, and Brendan could no
longer deny it.

Brendan loosened his grip on Randy’s fingers and gently

released him. He really, really liked how the smaller man
allowed him to maneuver him. He wondered if Randy was
always like that. Did he enjoy being manhandled?

Sliding his fingers lightly down his new lover’s arms, he

traced the lean muscle as he caressed the man’s flesh. Geez,

Randy just leaves his arms up. Could I move them behind his
back? Would he allow that? Brendan’s cock, which had never
even softened, jerked in his now sticky briefs at the idea.

Putting the idea out of his mind for now, Brendan

finished sliding his fingers down Randy’s arms, over his
shoulders, and up his neck, finally cupping the man’s jaws
lightly. The man’s dusting of facial hair prickled his palms,
making his fingers tingle. Tracing his thumbs over Randy’s
lower lips, Brendan felt his breathing hitch as he watched
the man’s mouth open just a bit.

Randy’s thick pink tongue slipped out and swept over his

full lower lip.

Brendan sighed and lowered his head. He hesitated just a

second, then sealed his lips over Randy’s mouth. He flicked
out his tongue, lapping at his lover’s mouth, teasing the
flesh, encouraging Randy to open wider. The other man
obeyed, and Brendan swept his tongue into his mouth.

Charlie Richards

Randy’s flavor burst across Brendan’s tongue, dark and

masculine with a hint of beer…everything he remembered
and more. He used his grip on Randy’s face to tilt the man’s
head a bit, allowing him to thrust deeper.

Lowering his second arm, Brendan wrapped it around

Randy’s waist, pulling him away from the wall and flush to
his body. Twining his tongue with Randy’s, Brendan coaxed
the other man’s tongue into his mouth, allowing him to suck
on it gently. Randy fed him a moan, going pliant against him
and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

Holy hell, that was hot. The way Randy gave in to him.

Even still, Brendan plundered Randy’s mouth, not having to
sensor his strength, his desire. His cock ached in his jeans,
telling him he drew dangerously close to a second orgasm in
so short a time. That knowledge finally broke through the
haze of his lustful domination.

Quickly, Brendan broke the kiss, yanking his head up to

stare down in shock at the man in his arms. Randy’s eyes
appeared heavily dilated. His pink lips were swollen and
slick. His cheeks were flushed and he panted heavily. As he
watched, Randy’s tongue flicked out, swiping his bottom lip.
Brendan mimicked the movement, and caught a trace of the
handsome man’s flavor on his lips.

His breath caught with the intensity of his desire to take

that amazing mouth again.

“Can we move this to the bedroom?” Randy asked softly.
Bedroom? Hell, yeah!
“O-Okay.”
Randy’s smile turned understanding. Finally, the man

lowered one arm and gently touched Brendan’s lips. As
Randy traced Brendan’s mouth with his fingertip, he
whispered, “We’ll only do what you want.”

Brendan nodded, just keeping himself from nipping the

fingers that slid over his lips. Then, they were gone, and for

Three Point Tuck

some reason, he felt disappointed, as if he’d missed some
opportunity.

Fortunately, right then, Randy brought down his second

arm and grabbed Brendon’s hand. As he tugged him down
the hall he told him, “I think I have some sweats that might
fit you.”

Brendan frowned at that comment, not because the man

offered him clothes, but because he thought they’d fit him.
His hand tightened and he tugged, causing the other man to
turn to face him. Randy lifted a brow in question.

Possessiveness like Brendan had never felt before in his

life boiled through his veins, and he snarled, “Exactly which
ex-lover’s clothes will I be wearing?” Holy shit! Did I really
just ask that? Damn it, he had, and he really wanted the
answer, too.

For a second, Randy’s eyes widened. “Whoa, easy, Bren,”

he murmured. He brought up his free hand and rubbed
Brendan’s chest.

Still, Brendan wouldn’t be deterred on this one. “Whose?”
Randy sighed. “You’re getting worked up over nothing,”

he stated firmly. “They belong to a firefighter named Trace.
He never was and never will be my lover. He’s just a friend
who comes over here for barbeques sometimes and,
occasionally, has slept in the spare room. He’s a friend who
always plans ahead,” Randy continued, explaining patiently.
“He’s left a couple t-shirts over the years, too. I leave them in
the spare dresser for whoever might need them.”

Okay, explained like that, Brendan knew he was being

irrational. Even if this firefighter had been a previous lover,
it would have been before he’d met Randy. He had no right
to feel angry, and Brendan knew it.

Sighing, Brendan brought Randy’s hand to his lips and

kissed the tips softly. “Damn, I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.
“I—” He shook his head. “I can’t even begin to explain.”

Charlie Richards

Randy smiled and nodded. “We all have those moments.

I’m sure you’ll figure it out and laugh about it later.”

Or I’ll turn into a jealous bastard because you’re a pretty man

who could have any guy he wants.

Refraining from saying anything out loud, Brendan

forced a smile and nodded.

“Come on,” Randy urged. “Let’s relax.”
Brendan nodded again, following docilely. Randy showed

him to the bathroom, then told him, “Give me a sec. I’ll get
those sweats.”

“No,” Brendan stated, hanging onto Randy when he went

to pull away. His lover peered at him, giving him a
questioning look. “I helped make the mess. Can I help clean
it up?”

Randy’s brows shooting up gave away his surprise. “You

want to shower together?”

Jerking a nod, Brendan admitted his desire.
The other man’s gaze swept over his face repeatedly, as if

searching for his sincerity. Brendan held the man’s gaze and
watched as a radiant smile slowly spread over Randy’s face,
lighting his green eyes, telling him he’d said something
right.

“Okay,” Randy agreed. “Come to the master. It’s larger.”
Once again, Brendan found himself following behind the

other man. He liked how Randy never released his hand.
Feeling the nerves prickling under his skin, nerves he
desperately wanted to keep hidden, he found the
contact…reassuring.

Randy pushed open a door at the end of the hallway and

led through a spacious master bedroom. He couldn’t help
noting the king bed covered in a deep green comforter as he
passed. What would it be like to lie Randy down on that
bed, to lay over him and press him into the mattress? From

Three Point Tuck

the pliant way the man behaved in his arms, Brendan just
suppressed a shiver at the possibilities.

At that moment, Randy glanced back at him. A knowing

gleam lit the man’s eyes and a smile curved his lips. He
squeezed Brendan’s hand once and winked. “We’ll get
there.”

The throaty purr caused goose bumps to break out on

Brendan’s skin and he fought back a shiver. Fortunately,
Randy had turned around to focus on pushing open a door
that ended up leading to the master bathroom. Brendan
followed inside and found his gaze riveted by the massive
jetted tub.

“Wow,” he murmured appreciatively.
Randy followed his gaze, then told him, “You wouldn’t

believe how sore I get after a busy day moving around
injured people.”

“That never even occurred to me,” Brendan admitted. He

lifted his free hand and slid it over Randy’s leanly muscled
arm. “That explains these sexy muscles,” he crooned.

When Randy shivered under his touch, a faint flush

working up the man’s cheeks, Brendan couldn’t help the
smugness that flowed through him. He sure liked, no loved,
the way this man responded to his touch.

Such an ego trip.
“I want to see what’s under these clothes,” Brendan

growled. He felt like he’d waited forever to explore a man,
and in essence he had. Plus, it all seemed so much better
because it was this man, this sexy man that melted under his
touch and took everything Brendan gave him as if it were
the greatest gift. Grabbing the hem of Randy’s shirt, he
peered deep into the eyes he’d so often dreamed of falling
into. “Please?”

Randy nodded swiftly. “As long as I can do the same to

you.”

Charlie Richards

“Hell, yeah.”
Brendan didn’t wait for more, no longer interested in

chatting. He slid his hands under the shirt he held, gliding
his palms over smooth flesh. Randy gasped, but made no
move to stop him, as he continued sliding his hands up the
man’s torso. He paused for a second to flick Randy’s nipples,
one with each thumb, gratified to hear his lover’s breath
catch in his throat.

After that, he grabbed the bunched fabric and pulled it up

and off the man, revealing Randy’s pale, toned chest. His
pecs were clearly defined, his stomach flat with just a hint of
a six pack, and a thin treasure trail of blond hair that led
from his belly button and disappeared into his jeans.
Growling in appreciation, Brendan traced that soft line of
thin curls.

Randy gasped softly. His stomach muscles rippled, and

he sucked in a bit as Brendan reached the button of his jeans.
He took a few seconds to just massage those muscles, before
giving in to temptation and flicking open the button.
Lowering the zipper revealed a pair of dark boxers with a
thick rod pressing insistently against it.

Brendan had felt other men’s cocks before, but revealing

his lover’s shaft himself seemed so much more intimate. He
rubbed a thumb over the damp fabric that betrayed Randy’s
earlier release. Like himself, his lover was already hard
again, giving him a massive boost to his ego…and touching
like this, where Randy shivered from his touch, caused his
dick to throb in his own damp jeans.

Suddenly, Randy’s soft growl caught Brendan’s attention,

and he jerked his head up to look at his lover’s face. Randy’s
tight jaw, coupled with the man’s clenched fists, told
Brendan of the man’s strain.

Randy peered at him from beneath his lashes before

stating gruffly, “I’m trying to be patient, Bren, but you’re not

Three Point Tuck

the only one who’s been driven nuts by thinking about what
ifs.”

Brendan froze. Holy shit! His cute white boy did have a

dominant bone or two. His blood heated with even more
excitement. “Tell me what you need,” he urged.

“Take off my jeans and boxers,” Randy demanded. After

a second, he quietly added, “Just…carefully.”

Nodding, Brendan took his turn at obeying. He

swallowed his uncertainty, gripped the edges of the man’s
jeans, and pushed them down and off his legs. As he felt
Randy’s hands on his shoulders, the man using Brendan for
balance, it occurred to him that he’d never actually
undressed a lover before.

He’d never seen a man completely naked…well, outside

of porn—which didn’t really count—and the locker room—
where he tried very hard not to look. He’d never even
undressed the few women he’d been with. They’d been
happy to undress themselves, doing it in a way he knew
they thought was provocative. Hell, he could hardly
remember, since every time he’d managed to talk himself
into picking up a woman, he’d been drunk.

“Hey, you okay?” Randy asked softly, touching his neck,

then his cheek. “Am I pushing you?”

Brendan lifted his gaze to find Randy peering down at

him with concern and…affection on his face. He realized
he’d frozen with his hands gripping the man’s underwear as
he’d had his little spaz-walk down memory lane.

After licking his lips, Brendan smiled up at him. “Sorry,”

he murmured. “Just…realized I’ve never undressed a lover
before.” He frowned at that realization. “I’m twenty eight
fucking years old,” he grumbled, tension filling him. “What
the fuck does that say about me?”

Suddenly, Randy crouched next to him. The other man

cupped his shaved skull, forcing Brendan to meet his gaze.

Charlie Richards

“It doesn’t mean anything except that you had other things
on your mind.”

“No,” Brendan snarled, suddenly hating the decisions

he’d made…the decisions he’d felt himself forced to make.
“No, it means I was a coward!” He realized what he said,
and latched onto that. “Was,” he whispered. “I was a
coward.” Brendan lifted his gaze and stared hard at Randy.
“No more,” he vowed. “No more hiding.”

Randy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at him. “I-I’m

not sure you should make a snap decision like that, Bren,”
he whispered. “I understand you’re upset about something,
but—” He paused and frowned, absently massaging the
tendons of Brendan’s neck as he struggled for words, but he
didn’t seem to be able to come up with anything.

Brendan stared at him for a few seconds. Slowly, his

tension eased. He saw no condemnation in the other man’s
eyes, only concern. Sighing, Brendan saw the ridiculousness
of the situation. Even while he knew Randy was right—he
shouldn’t be making snap decisions right now—Brendan
also knew he’d been working up to this for days, weeks
even. Ever since meeting Randy and going to that damned
barbeque that had opened his eyes to the possibilities.

Glancing over Randy’s shoulder at the shower, then at the

man, Brendan gave him a relaxed smile. “Let’s get out of
these clothes and take that shower. Then, I want to press you
back into that big bed of yours and kiss you all over.”

Even as he said the words, Brendan realized how true

they were. He wanted to touch every inch of the man’s flesh,
explore, taste, and caress all that toned flesh.

Brendan got moving and urged Randy back into a

standing position. At Randy’s questioning look, he grinned.
“I’ve wasted enough time. I want you naked and wet and I
want it now.”

Three Point Tuck

With careful hands, Brendan gently peeled the sticky

fabric away from Randy’s groin. He cringed and muttered
sorry when Randy hissed and shivered, but he didn’t stop.
Soon, Brendan revealed his lover’s heavy prick. The thick
rod sprang from its covering, the hard, pale flesh ready for
action. The reddish-purple, engorged head gleamed with
pre-cum.

“So pretty,” Brendan whispered. He reached out in

wonder, using just the tip of one index finger to swirl
around the broad head. At Randy’s grunt, Brendan glanced
up. Once again, his lover’s jaws were clenched. He grinned
at the expression, liking that he could create such intense
sensations in Randy.

Rising to his feet, he did his best to ignore Randy’s

bobbing, maybe seven-and-a-half inch prick. He pointed
toward the shower stall and ordered, “Get the shower
started,” then began yanking his own clothes from his body.

Brendan knew Randy watched him, but even that

knowledge couldn’t stop him from peeling his underwear
from his dick, grimacing at the sharp tugs from the dried
cum—and soon he stood in the buff.

Randy already stood in the shower, the spray cascading

over his body. His lover held out his hand, water droplets
gleaming from his fingertips. “Come here,” Randy urged,
his voice sultry and insistent. “Allow me to wash you. It’ll
help you relax.”

Sucking in a harsh breath at the sexy sight before him,

Brendan jerked a nod. “Hell, yeah,” he mumbled.

Taking his lover’s hand, Brendan followed Randy’s

guidance, stepping toward the other man and into the
shower.

Charlie Richards

Chapter Ten

s Brendan approached, Randy could see the excitement
in the man’s dark eyes. He also noted the bigger man

practically vibrated with nerves. When Brendan climbed
into the large shower stall, he seemed to freeze, standing
awkwardly, his hands twitching as if fighting his urge to
cover his bobbing shaft.

Knowing he needed to ease his lover’s tension quieted

some of Randy’s own urgency. He guided Brendan under
the spray, turning him so the warm water cascaded over his
skin, but not into his eyes. “Just relax and feel,” he urged.

Brendan obeyed and Randy lathered up the man’s back,

tracing over the dark skin spread out before him. A heady
sense of satisfaction crept through him as the tense muscles
of Brendan’s shoulders and lats began to relax under his
ministrations.

Randy slowly worked his way down his lover’s back, up

and down each arm, urging him to lift them so he could
massage each sensitive, lightly furred pit. He’d always felt
showering, washing with another man, to be one of the most
intimate acts a couple could do together.

Fucking with a one night stand was all about getting their

rocks off before they each went their separate ways.

This, this was so much more. This was touching,

exploring, learning every nuance of another person’s body.
Was he ticklish? Did he have moles? Scars? Randy loved

Three Point Tuck

every second of it, and his heart swelled as Brendan
followed his guidance, lifting each foot when prompted.
Randy loved the way he grunted and snorted when Randy
washed between his toes.

Working up Brendan’s left leg, upon reaching the man’s

scarred knee, Randy felt the man tense beneath his fingers.
“Easy, there,” Randy crooned.

“Never let anyone see my knee except the doctors,”

Brendan whispered.

Randy jerked his head up in shock, peering up at the man.

Somewhere along the way, Brendan had leaned forward and
rested his forearms and forehead against the shower wall.
From his position, Brendan watched him with half-lidded
eyes. How long the man had been watching him, Randy had
no idea, but he found he liked that his lover watched but
didn’t interrupt. For some reason, to Randy, it showed an
even greater level of trust on Brendan’s part…to just wait
and watch, not pushing or prodding.

Randy felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. For a second,

it was hard to breathe. He wanted more…more of this, more
in the bedroom, even more time that didn’t involve sex.
Even knowing he was getting in too deep didn’t stop the
feelings coursing through him. Randy felt himself falling
head-over-heels for this reserved, self-contained man with
such a big heart.

Getting his thoughts back on his task—hell, the hot water

wouldn’t last forever—Randy smiled anyway and returned
his focus to Brendan’s scarred knee. He traced the bumps,
the ridges, the scars, washing them with soapy fingers and
his washcloth.

“You’re a sexy man, Brendan,” he murmured. He shot a

smile up at the man’s dark eyes. “All of you.” Returning his
gaze to Brendan’s knee so he could finish rubbing the last of

Charlie Richards

the ridges of flesh, he added, “This just proves you’re a
fighter.”

With those final words, Randy urged Brendan to turn

around.

Brendan hesitated for a second, then obeyed. The man’s

jutting dick gave away his continued excitement, a pearl of
pre-cum beaded at the tip. Randy liked that Brendan
enjoyed his touch so much.

Re-lathering the cloth and his fingers, Randy gently

scrubbed the man’s pubes, just managing to keep from
leaning forward and sucking the man’s dark, swollen head
into his mouth. He rose to his feet and washed the man’s
chest, awed by the ribbed abs, defined pecs and taut, hairless
skin.

Randy dropped the washcloth and slid his soapy hands

up Brendan’s shoulders and to his neck, gently gripping the
strong tendons. He smiled. “Why don’t you head out and
get comfortable in the bedroom. Give me two minutes and
I’ll be right with you.”

Brendan’s brows creased. “I want to wash you, too.”
“Next time,” Randy promised, mentally praying that

there would be plenty of next times. He gave Brendan a
rueful smile. “I’m afraid I took too long admiring your sexy
body, Bren, and I’m gonna run out of hot water soon.”

Nodding slowly, Brendan leaned forward and pressed his

closed lips to Randy’s, gliding the wet flesh back and forth
over Randy’s for a few seconds. When he lifted his head, he
stated, “I’m gonna hold you to that. Next time.”

“You got it,” Randy mumbled back huskily. He stepped

back, before he begged the man to fuck him right there in the
shower, hot water be damned. Trying to ignore the demands
of his own throbbing prick, Randy stated, “The towels are
clean. Just hung them this morning.”

Three Point Tuck

Brendan nodded and pushed away from the wall. “Okay.

Thanks.” Grabbing the handle, he pushed the glass door
open a crack. Just when Randy thought Brendan would step
out, he turned back, grabbed Randy’s arm, and pressed a
hard, brief kiss to his lips. “Don’t be long,” Brendan
demanded gruffly, before releasing him and slipping out of
the stall.

Randy almost gave up on his resolve to let the man go,

just hanging on by a thread. Giving himself a quick shake,
he bent down and grabbed the washcloth from the floor and
began rinsing it. A low groan from behind him reached
Randy, and he turned to see Brendan—a towel riding low on
his lean hips—tear his gaze away from Randy’s ass and
hustle from the room.

Smiling, Randy quickly went through scrubbing down his

own body. He just resisted the urge to jack off, even though
the soft cloth sliding over his overly sensitive shaft caused
his balls to tighten and roll in his sacks. Brendan was
waiting. That reminder spurred him on.

He shut off the water, stepped from the shower, and

grabbed his own towel, rubbing himself down quickly
before stepping out of the bathroom.

Randy’s heart almost stopped in his chest when his gaze

fell on the bed and he saw that it was empty.

Shit! Did I make a mistake? Did I push too hard too fast?
Movement from the shadows drew Randy’s gaze, and he

spotted Brendan standing by the window, staring out. Relief
flooded him, the emotion far stronger than Randy had ever
experienced before.

I’m in so fucking deep. If this man doesn’t want the same things

I do, if he’s not ready…what will I do?

Randy didn’t want to think about that, yet. He knew the

second Brendan left, he’d obsess over it, so he refused to
allow his fears to ruin the time he had with this man.

Charlie Richards

Crossing to Brendan’s side, Randy slid his arms around the
man’s waist and—since he was so much shorter than the
other man—rested his cheek against the man’s upper arm.

“Stargazing again?” Randy asked softly.
Brendan hummed, then shifted in Randy’s arms. At first,

Randy thought his lover planned to pull away, but then he
found himself turned and pushed, maneuvered, so the
bigger man stood behind him. One of Brendan’s arms slid
around his waist, palming his opposite side, while the other
arm banded across his chest.

Randy felt Brendan’s broad, strong chest pressed against

his back, the flesh warm and still just a little damp. Held like
this, with Brendan’s head resting on his shoulder, nuzzling
his temple, his arms tight around him, he couldn’t help but
feel…safe, secure, and oh-so-comfortable.

Sighing, Randy leaned against him.
Brendan’s arms tightened slightly, and he sighed against

Randy’s temple. “Stargazing helps me settle,” he murmured
softly. “You asked me what I wanted from you and I didn’t
have an answer. I do now.”

It was Randy’s turn to tense. Was he ready to hear this?
Brendan feathered soft touches over his sides with his

fingertips, even as he kept his palms still. “I’ve never had a
relationship before,” he admitted. “But I want one with
you.” Turning his head, Brendan pressed a soft kiss to
Randy’s temple, then whispered, “You make me want things
I’ve never had before.”

Randy smiled faintly as he nuzzled against Brendan. He

used his own arms to grip Brendan’s one that banded
around his waist. Sighing, Randy mumbled, “You’ve said
that before, that I make you want things you’ve never
wanted before.” He paused, his brows furrowing as he
thought about not only the words but what they might

Three Point Tuck

mean. “I think I need to know what that means. I can’t go
back in the closet for you,” he pointed out.

Feeling the big man shiver slightly against him, Brendan

sighed. “I know. I won’t ask you to do that. I just…I need a
little time to—” His grip tightened and he tucked his face
against the crook of Randy’s neck. “Damn it,” he grumbled.
“Seeing Jake and Ross, confident to come out, makes me feel
like such a fucking coward.”

Understanding seeped into Randy and he craned his neck

so he could peer up at the man. “Is that what sparked this?”

Brendan growled and pulled away. He strode away a few

steps, then spun around, placing one hand on his bald head.
“No—yes, damn it.” He shook his head, crossed to the bed,
and sat down on it. His expression appeared almost forlorn
as he looked up at Randy and whispered, “I’m not sure.”

Randy crossed and sat beside the man. Taking Brendan’s

hand, Randy tried to figure out what the hell he should say.
When he’d come out, he hadn’t lost his family, but he had
friends who did. He couldn’t promise everyone would be
understanding and supportive, because that wasn’t the way
life worked.

Finally, he decided on the truth. “I think you’re a kind,

hard-working, handsome man and you deserve to be happy.
I can’t promise you that coming out would be any easier, but
I can tell you you’ll have people here to support you. Me,
Dan, even Coal, Carl, and Vincent will have your back.” He
squeezed Brendan’s hand lightly, gaining his attention. “I’d
love to be there for you as you do this, if you’ll allow it.”

“I want it, very much,” Brendan whispered. For a few

seconds, Brendan slowly swept his gaze over Randy’s naked
chest. His dark eyes glittered with lust as a groan rolled
through his chest. “Want you,” he rumbled.

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100

Randy’s breathing sped up at the lust and desire in the

man’s eyes. Licking his lips, Randy’s dick flexed under the
towel. “Yeah. Okay.”

Brendan apparently took that for the acceptance it was,

cupped Randy’s jaw, and slanted his mouth over Randy’s
lips. He nipped Randy’s bottom lip, making him gasp, then
thrust his tongue into the cavern of his mouth. Brendan
leaned into him, pressing him into the mattress. Brendan
thrust his tongue deep, fucking Randy’s mouth, eating his
lips, ravishing him.

One of Brendan’s hands landed on Randy’s waist and

shoved down his towel, pushing it over and off his hip.
When the man’s hand wrapped around Randy’s prick, he
moaned into his lover’s mouth. Brendan broke the kiss,
sitting up a bit, and stared down at Randy’s pulsing shaft
where he held it in his hand.

He didn’t stroke, just massaged the sensitive wrinkles

right underneath the head. Randy panted, his lungs
struggling to fill his body with enough oxygen as Brendan
just, well, seemed to admire him.

“So beautiful,” Brendan rumbled. “Gonna get this in my

ass one day, but I really wanna fuck you now.”

Randy moaned at his lover’s words. His asshole clenched

and pre-cum oozed from him. Brendan squeezed his shaft
lightly, then started jacking him.

“Can we do that? Can I fuck you?”
Brendan’s roughly spoken questions pulled a groan from

Randy. “Oh, fuck, yes,” he muttered, unable to tear his gaze
away from where his lover’s brown hand stroked over his
pale, hard flesh. The contrast, along with the rubbing, sent
shivers through him, making his stomach ripple.

Finally, Randy tore his gaze up and he met Brendan’s

heated gaze. “You’ll need to let me go, though, because that

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101

feels too good to move, and if you don’t stop, I’m gonna
come soon.”

Grinning, Brendan gazed down at Randy’s cock, then

returned his focus to his face. “You look so sexy like this,”
Brendan stated. “All hard and wet and throbbing. I love the
way you pulse in my hand.” As he spoke, Brendan’s gaze
bore into Randy’s. His eyes shone, telling Randy he spoke
what he believed to be the truth.

Randy’s cock throbbed harder. His balls pulled tight.

Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he struggled to
hold himself in check. “Stop, damn it,” he pleaded.

“Come for me,” Brendan urged. “I want to see you paint

your chest, babe.” His grin appeared feral as he tightened his
grip and sped up his strokes. “I can see your furry sacks
pulling tight. Your face is flushed. Your nipples are hard.
You wanna come, don’t you, Randy?”

When Brendan reached out and flicked one of Randy’s

beaded nipples, it was the final straw. The zing went straight
down Randy’s spine. His balls pulled flush to his body and
streams of cum pulsed up his dick as he did exactly what
Brendan wanted, his seed painting his chest.

Grunting, Randy’s body jerked. His muscles clenched and

his body bowed as his orgasm sent waves of bliss pinging
through his system. “Bren,” he gasped as his body started to
settle.

Brendan hummed. “I like it when you call my name.”
Randy peered up at the man through half closed lids.

“Well, I’ll scream your name for you whenever you want if
you’ll just do that,” he stated, panting softly, struggling to
recover his ability to breathe.

When his prick became too sensitive, Randy gripped

Brendan’s wrist and tugged gently. His lover released him,
grinning down at him. “I’ll remember that,” Brendan
crooned. “So, where’s your lube and condoms?”

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102

Randy managed to flop his hand in the general direction

of his nightstand.

Brendan chuckled and levered off the bed, looking

extremely pleased with himself as he eyed Randy. While he
took the couple steps necessary to reach the nightstand and
yank it open, Randy rolled over on the mattress and got his
knees under him. He peered to his left and waited while his
lover retrieved the necessary supplies.

When he straightened, Brendan cocked his head. Randy

began to grow nervous until Brendan reached out a hand
and traced it over his side, then down his flank to palm his
ass. “So fucking sexy,” Brendan whispered.

Randy smiled and wriggled a bit. “You gonna take that

towel off and join me?”

Nodding almost absently, Brendan tossed the supplies

onto the bed before flicking a finger under the edge of his
towel and tugging. The fabric loosened and fell away,
revealing his dark brown, engorged shaft. It bobbed in front
of him, translucent beads of pre-cum gleaming at the tip.

“You’re such a sexy man, Bren.”
Brendan smiled as he climbed onto the bed. “I’m glad you

approve,” he whispered. He settled his second hand on
Randy’s ass, then rubbed up his back, then down over his
sides to his hips. “But you’re the sexy one. Look at you, so
beautiful.”

Randy didn’t know if Brendan even realized he’d spoken

out loud. His expression seemed somewhat glazed as he
petted Randy’s body, stroking and touching. Randy’s skin
goose bumped under the gentle caresses and blood once
again flowed to his dick, plumping him to half-mast.

Then, Brendan used one hand to pull his ass cheek aside,

allowing access to his hole. With his other hand, he gently
massaged the muscled opening with his thumb. Randy
moaned at the soft touches. He rocked his hips, trying to get

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103

more, trying to get his lover to breach him. When it didn’t
happen, Randy grunted in frustration.

“Please,” he begged.

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104

Chapter Eleven

rendan heard Randy’s one word plea, and his cock
jerked where it hung between his legs. Even the sudden

case of nerves tingling beneath his skin, brought on by the
realization that he was here, in Randy’s bed, with every
intention of having sex with another man, couldn’t dwindle
his erection.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he stated softly. “For you.”

He palmed the firm globes with both of his hands and
pulled them apart, revealing the tight hole where he
desperately wanted to sink his aching shaft.

Randy twisted a bit and touched his knee lightly. “You

don’t have to wait anymore. I’m here,” he murmured. “If
you want me.”

Brendan lifted his gaze from Randy’s sexy ass and sucked

in a harsh breath at the stark desire glowing in the man’s
green eyes. “Oh, I want very much.”

Smiling, Randy rolled the lube toward him. “Then do

what you want, Bren,” he urged. “Stretch me open and sink
your big, beautiful cock into me. I want it, too,” he assured.

Reaching for the lube, Brendan picked up the slick,

opened it, and poured a large dollop onto his fingers. After
the briefest of hesitations, he dribbled some down Randy’s
crack, too.

Randy shivered, but didn’t complain.

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105

Brendan rubbed his index finger around the muscle for a

few seconds, then pressed. With a bit of effort, the tight ring
gave way, allowing him to slide his digit halfway into the
hottest, tightest hole he’d ever felt before. He pulled out a
bit, then pressed in as deep as his finger could go.

His moan matched Randy’s. God, he wanted in there so

badly. His balls pulled tight at the idea of sinking his dick
into the viselike heat surrounding his finger. He knew it’d be
glorious.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer,

Brendan started working Randy open in earnest. He’d seen
porn and knew—in theory—what he was supposed to do.
He slid a second finger in beside the first, gratified to hear
Randy moan. The way he rocked his hips, thrusting his ass
up into each press of his fingers, told Brendan of Randy’s
enjoyment.

Brendan started feeling around the hole he fingered,

searching…searching… When Randy shouted hoarsely and
his body jerked, Brendan knew he’d found it.

“Awe, shit,” Randy cried, bucking. “Do that again.”
“You got it, babe,” Brendan crooned. It wasn’t the first

time he’d used the endearment. He’d never called anyone by
a pet name before, but with Randy, he just couldn’t seem to
help himself. It felt too natural, like Randy was meant to be
his, in every sense of the word. “You look so good riding my
fingers,” he mumbled, enthralled by the way Randy’s
striated muscles stretched to accommodate him as he
pushed a third finger inside Randy. His breathing hitched as
he finger-fucked his lover. “Want my cock in here.”

Randy moaned. “Oh, hell, yeah,” he moaned. “I’m ready,

Bren. Fuck me.”

Gently, Brendan eased his fingers from his lover’s hole

and grabbed a condom. After rolling the rubber onto his
dick, he used his slicked up fingers to coat it with lube.

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106

Brendan gripped his dick and guided it to Randy’s stretched
and lubed hole.

Brendan tapped his condom-covered dick against

Randy’s opening and paused. Swallowing hard, he rubbed
his free hand up and down his lover’s spine for a few
seconds.

It must have been long enough for Randy to notice, for he

peered over his shoulder and murmured, “Bren? You okay?”

Nodding, Brendan muttered, “Don’t want to do this…”
“Hey,” Randy crooned. “I told you. We don’t have to do

anything you don’t want to,” he assured.

Brendan scowled, seeing the strained lines on Randy’s

face. “Huh?”

Randy grimaced, even as he started to rock away. “I could

just suck you off instead, if you’d like.”

Then, what he’d said finally hit Brendan. He gripped

Randy’s hips, holding him in place. “Wait. No! That’s not
what I meant.”

“I’m confused.”
Shit, that wasn’t what Brendan had intended. “Damn it,

no,” he rumbled. “I want you on your back.” Brendan
shivered at that idea. “I want to see your face, kiss you. Is
that okay?”

Randy’s brows shot up. His broad smile split his lips.

“Yeah, Bren,” he assured. “I’d like that, too.”

A fresh wash of excitement flooded Brendan, and he

watched with anticipation as Randy rolled to his back and
spread his legs. His lover’s cock—once again hard—
stretched up from his groin, jutting from its nest of soft
blond curls.

Unable to help himself, Brendan reached up and traced

the thick vein running the length of his lover’s pale cock. He
couldn’t seem to get enough of the differences between

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107

them. For some reason, Brendan found the contrast between
them so fucking sexy.

Brendan slid his first two fingers down his lover’s shaft

and over his balls, tracing the soft hair on the orbs. Randy
spread his legs wider, writhing on the bed.

“Now, please, Bren,” Randy whined.
His own cock aching, Brendan grabbed a pillow and

thrust it under Randy’s hips. The other man appeared
surprised for a second, but then grinned. “Mmm, good
idea.” With his hips high and his legs spread wide, Randy’s
groin was completely exposed, but his lover didn’t seem in
the least bit shy or concerned. Instead, he held out his hands
and beckoned Brendan forward. “Come on, lover. I think
we’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

Moaning, he hissed, “Yes.”
Brendan levered over Randy. For a few seconds, he rested

his weight on his hands and looked down their bodies. He
rutted slowly, rubbing his covered cock against Randy’s
hard rod, admiring the dark beside light.

Randy’s fingers tightening on his upper arms drew

Brendan from his admiration. He lifted his head and peered
into his lover’s needy green eyes. Nodding, Brendan shifted
his position. Using one hand, he once again guided his dick
to Randy’s hole. He pushed forward insistently.

Brendan’s cock head eased through the tight ring of

muscle. Heat and pressure clamped onto his dick. Groaning,
he thrust forward just a bit, then pulled back. He slowly
rutted, easing himself into his lover. Ever so slowly, hot
pressure beyond anything he’d ever felt before surrounded
his aching shaft.

Finally, Brendan’s balls slapped against Randy’s crack. He

shivered and stilled, working hard to gain control of himself.
Every instinct screamed at him to pull out and ram back in,

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over and over until his balls exploded and he lost himself in
sensation.

Instead, Brendan lifted his head and peered down at his

lover. He took in the pink flush covering Randy’s chest,
neck, and even his cheeks. Randy’s fingers clutched
Brendan’s upper arms, his nails digging into Brendan’s flesh.
He imagined he’d end up with marks later, and the idea of
wearing them filled him with feral pride.

Brendan stared deep into Randy’s passion-darkened

green eyes as he gritted his teeth and pulled his cock out far
more slowly than what his body screamed for him to do. He
saw every twitch, heard every gasp the other man made,
and Brendan loved it.

When the flared edge of Brendan’s cock head tugged at

the ring of muscle, he paused. Randy’s eyes were wide and
his lips moved slowly, although no sound actually came out.
Smiling, Brendan leaned down and sipped at Randy’s lips
lightly as he slid slowly back into the man.

“Never knew anything could feel like this,” Brendan

mumbled. With his mouth pressed against his lover’s, his
words came out somewhat garbled.

Randy moaned softly before murmuring, “Then fuck me

like you mean it, damn it!”

Brendan grunted. Lowering himself so they lay flush

together, Brendan sped up his strokes. He growled, reveling
in the sparks rippling through his system and the tight
constriction massaging his dick.

His control slipped.
His hips snapping, Brendan moaned loudly. He wrapped

one arm under the man, around the small of his back and
buried the fingers of his other hand into Randy’s soft hair.
The fact that he rested almost all his weight on the other
man flitted through his lust-fogged brain, but as he rammed
into his lover, he couldn’t find it in him to move.

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Then, Randy’s arms wrapped around him in return,

clutching tightly. Randy grunted as he brought his legs up
and around, hitching them over Brendan’s hips. He rocked
up into Brendan, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck, Bren,” Randy growled into his ear. “Yeah, that’s it.

That’s the spot.” Randy grunted and huffed before adding,
“Right there. Right the fuck there. God, yes.”

Brendan grinned, feral satisfaction coursing through him.

“Yeah,” he muttered in response. Hissing, he added, “Love
the sounds you make. More. Want to hear more.” Unable to
help himself, so caught up in the blissful clutching heat
surrounding his dick, Brendan drove repeatedly into his
lover, lost in sensation.

Randy dug his heels into Brendan’s ass, holding him

tight. “Ah, yeah,” Randy snarled. “Wanna feel you for days.
So fucking good.” Then, Randy roared, screaming his name.

Pride flooded Brendan as warm jizz coated his abs, telling

him the other man had come. Then, his lover’s chute
clamped down on him, holding him in a grip so tight, so hot,
Brendan’s balls pulled up so fast he didn’t stand a chance in
hell of controlling himself. Bellowing, he managed to drive
into his lover once, twice more, before his cock erupted,
filling the condom with spurt after spurt of cum.

Brendan hummed, drifting pleasantly as endorphins

pinged through his system. When he slowly came back to
himself, he realized he rested all his weight on Randy.
Instead of pushing him off, the man actually held him close,
lightly brushing his hands up and down the muscles of
Brendan’s back and along his spine.

Humming,

Brendan

mumbled,

“Wow.

That

was…amazing.”

Randy kissed the side of his neck. “Yeah. Love feeling

your weight on me.”

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“I like being here,” Brendan admitted. Unfortunately, he

knew he needed to shift soon. His softening prick meant he
ran the risk of losing the condom, which would completely
beat the purpose of using the protection. “Gotta get up.”

Kissing his neck again, Randy pressed him sideways.

“Roll over, lover,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of
everything.”

Unable to muster much gumption after his mind-blowing

orgasm, Brendan forced his limbs to work just enough to
grip the base of his condom. Then he eased out of his lover
and flopped over.

Randy grunted as they disconnected, but then he rolled

close and kissed Brendan on the lips, pecking quickly before
saying, “Be right back.” He winked, smirked, and added,
“Don’t go anywhere.”

Brendan grinned. “No chance of that,” he assured,

snickering. He turned his head and watched Randy’s sexy
ass leave the room. He could still see streaks of slick dotting
his lover’s ass and thighs and to his shock, his cock twitched
against his thigh. Grunting, Brendan reached over and
grabbed several tissues from the box on the nightstand. He
cleaned up his dick and wrapped up the condom, then he
realized he didn’t know what to do with it.

Frowning, Brendan hollered, “Hey, where’s your trash

bin, babe?”

“Left side of the bed,” came Randy’s reply.
Rolling over, Brendan saw the can and tossed the wadded

bunch of tissues into the bucket. A moment later, Randy
strode back into the room. He stopped at the side of the bed,
holding a wash cloth. He held it up and smiled, though he
did look a bit uncertain as he said, “Can I clean you? It’ll feel
better than just the tissues.”

Brendan’s instinct was to say no thanks, but not only did

he enjoy Randy’s touch, he wanted to be comfortable with

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his lover…which meant his lover would need to be
comfortable with him.

Nodding, Brendan winked and cocked a knee up. “See

something you like,” he teased.

His joking had the desired effect, and Randy chuckled.

“You know I do,” he murmured, humming appreciatively as
he swiped the warm cloth over Brendan’s mostly soft dick.

The rub of warm fabric over his overly sensitized skin

made Brendan grunt, then a moan ripped from his lungs
when Randy slid the cloth over his balls. “Oh, fuck,”
Brendan growled, just fighting back a shudder.

Randy chuckled and leaned close. “Told you it’d feel

good.”

Enjoying Randy’s playful tone, Brendan rumbled, “Get

over here.” He reached up and wrapped his arms around his
lover’s torso. Tugging and rolling, Brendan yanked Randy
onto the bed. The other man yelped, but didn’t fight him.
Seconds later, Brendan half laid on top of Randy, grinning
down at him.

“Uh, guess you’re not gonna freak out on me, huh?”
The question surprised Brendan. His brows shot up.

Then, he realized what his lover had been trying to offer him
by walking away and cleaning himself up. If Brendan had
needed space, had needed to run, Randy had given him that
out.

A warmth flooded Brendan that had nothing to do with

lust. Lowering his head, he nuzzled Randy’s neck, then
nibbled his way up and over to his jaw. Randy tilted his
head, giving him more access, and Brendan hummed his
appreciation. Finally, once again reaching his lover’s mouth,
he pecked a soft butterfly kiss to Randy’s lips before
crooning, “I love you.” The words were out of his mouth
without conscious thought. He’d been gazing right into

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Randy’s eyes, and as his lover’s body tensed, Brendan
sucked in a harsh breath.

Yeah, I just said that.
As they lay there, peering at each other, Brendan watched

Randy’s gaze shutter, hiding his emotions. That hurt more
than Brendan could say, but he understood the man’s
reaction. What he’d just said, probably not only blind-sided
the guy, but maybe scared him away from Brendan, too.

God, I sure hope not.
Even still, Brendan realized he’d spoken the truth, and

somehow, he needed Randy to see that. Unfortunately, he
didn’t think he could stand to see rejection in the other
man’s eyes, so he shifted a bit and maneuvered the other
man, too, and Randy let him.

They ended up lying with Randy’s back pressed against

Brendan’s chest. He held his lover close, although he kept
his arms loose. Finally, he whispered, “I wasn’t lying and I
didn’t say it in the heat of passion.” Brendan tucked his face
into the crook of Randy’s neck and continued, “I don’t
expect you to say it back and I sure as hell didn’t mean to tell
you. I just…I’ve never felt this way about anyone and it just,
kinda, came out.”

He sighed and lifted his head to press a lingering kiss to

the soft skin behind his lover’s ear, then finished, “I didn’t
intend to make you uncomfortable, but I sure as hell hope
this doesn’t scare you away.” He couldn’t bring himself to
say I’m sorry because he really didn’t feel that way. In fact,
he actually felt relieved. He had no idea what that said about
him.

Randy peered over his shoulder at Brendan, searching his

face in the dim lamplight for a few seconds. Finally, he
whispered, “I’m surprised. I admit that.” After a few more
seconds of silence, Randy added, “And I’m not certain how
you want me to respond.”

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Feeling surprisingly good about his admission, Brendan

chuckled. He pressed a kiss to Randy’s upturned lips and
smiled down at him. “Don’t say anything. Yeah, I blurted it
out, but I’m not sorry you know. Now, you know that I’m in
this deep.” Then, his smile faltered. “I guess, I only ask that
you don’t fuck around on me while we figure this out. I,
uh—” He grimaced, then met his lover’s gaze, and stated
gravely, “My mom was a cheater. I wouldn’t be able to
handle someone doing that to me.”

At that, Randy twisted a bit, leaned up, and pressed a

soft, sweet, and entirely too short kiss to Brendan’s lips,
sliding his tongue in to share their tastes before pulling back
again. “That, I can promise you. You’re it while we figure
this out.”

“Thank you,” Brendan replied, more relieved than he

wanted to admit.

Randy sighed and grabbed on to Brendan’s arms, tugging

them closer. “Will you stay the night?”

The question surprised Brendan, but he didn’t share that.

Instead, he tightened his grip and nuzzled in close. “Just try
to get rid of me.”

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Chapter Twelve

andy rubbed his palms over his thighs, trying to ease
the tension vibrating through his body as he waited for

Brendan to arrive. For the last two weeks, he and Brendan
had been spending a hell of a lot of time together, getting to
know each other and exploring each other’s bodies when
they were alone. Although they’d attended barbeques at
their buddy’s places, this was the first time they’d meet
somewhere truly public.

Would Brendan act as if they were just buddies? Randy

didn’t expect holding hands and footsie under the table or
anything, but to at least be acknowledged as someone
important to Brendan if asked would be nice. His lover had
assured Randy that he was working up to coming out.
Brendan had already admitted to Dan and the other guys
that he was involved with Randy, so that had to count for
something, right?

Damn, he had no idea. After all, the men they hung with

were all gay or openly accepting of their friend’s
relationships.

Was Brendan all talk?
Randy knew he wouldn’t be able to live like that, not with

the shit-storm that would come down on him soon. He
realized that was another thing he needed to discuss with
Brendan. Would he even be interested in dating a man with
a kid? Brendan and Toby got along well, fantastic, in fact.

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Randy smiled at the memory of Brendan playing Legos with
Toby over the weekend. Damn, the man was good with kids.
No wonder he’d become a teacher and a coach after quitting
football.

The bell over the door jingled, drawing Randy’s attention.

He spotted Brendan striding through the door, his dark skin
accentuated by his white teeth when their gazes met and he
smiled at him. Randy’s heart almost skipped a beat at the
unmistakably heated look the other man pointed in his
direction before he dialed it back.

Brendan waved away the hostess’s attentions—much to

her disappointment, not that Brendan seemed to notice—
and the man headed Randy’s way. Randy smiled back, even
as uncertainty flooded him. How should he greet the man?
Stand and shake his hand? A hug? Just a greeting?

In the end, Randy decided he’d just follow Brendan’s

lead. The man in question slid into the booth opposite him.
Then, he reached out one hand and rested just his fingertips
on Randy’s. “Hey,” Brendan greeted. “Thanks for meeting
me for lunch. With the kids having a snow day, and
knowing you always have Fridays off, I couldn’t help but
take advantage.”

Randy thought the man looked oddly uncertain, maybe

even a bit shy. Wanting to reassure him, Randy took a
chance. He flipped his hand and gently gripped Brendan’s
fingers and lightly squeezed. “I’m glad you did. I enjoy
spending time with you.” Then, before his lover could grow
uncomfortable with the contact, he pulled back and folded
his hands on the table.

Brendan grinned again, then seemed to catch himself and

glanced around the café.

Deciding they needed to discuss something more

mundane, Randy picked up his menu. “So, what’s that
stomach of yours growling for? I can tell you from

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experience that they make a mean steak omelet and their pot
roast is delicious. You also can’t go wrong with the chicken
pot pie or shepherd’s pie.” Randy hummed at that and
added, “Yeah, that sounds perfect right about now.”

“You like pot roast?” Brendan asked.
Randy dipped his head. “Yep. For some reason, I always

manage to get the meat too chewy, so I don’t make it myself.
When I want it, I come here,” he admitted.

“I make amazing pot roast, if I do say so myself. Just

finished up some leftovers last week.”

“Missed out. Story of my life,” Randy muttered, then

smirked at the man so he knew he only teased.

Brendan grinned back and leaned forward. “I’ll make you

pot roast anytime, babe.”

Randy couldn’t help but start at the endearment coming

from Brendan—in the middle of a restaurant—and his brows
shot up. Brendan’s Adam’s apple bobbed and the gaze he
leveled on his menu could have bored holes in steel, what
with its sudden laser-like intensity.

“Afternoon, Randy. Afternoon, Coach.” The perky

waitress—Leah—took that moment to appear and plunk two
water glasses down in front of them. Without having to ask,
she flipped Randy’s coffee mug over and filled it with
steaming black liquid. Next, she pointed at the upside-down
mug in front of Brendan. “You want coffee, Coach?”

“Uh, yes, please,” he replied, quickly flipping over his

own mug. After she filled it, he wrapped his hands around it
and pulled it close. For all intents and purposes, he looked to
be using it as a shield.

Randy tried not to let that hurt.
“You gents know what you’d like?” Leah asked, her pen

poised over an ordering pad.

Nodding, Randy replied, “I’ll take the shepherd’s pie and

the carrot cake. Bring ’em about the same time, would ya?”

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“You got it.” Leah turned toward Brendan, a shy smile

curving her lips. “How about you, Coach?”

“Uh, the chicken pot pie,” he replied.
“Good choice,” she said, jotting the information down.

“I’ll be back with those in a bit.” With that, the perky woman
hustled off to another table, refilling coffee as she made her
way to the kitchen.

Brendan sighed and finally returned his focus to Randy,

his expression somewhat guarded. “I apologize if I made
you uncomfortable. It’s habit.”

Randy’s brows creased with his confusion. “Huh?”
“Calling you babe.” Brendan offered him a slight smile.

“I’ll try not to do it outside the house if you don’t want me
to.”

If Brendan’s dark skin could show a flush, Randy just

knew the other man would be sporting one right now. Still,
his words didn’t quite make sense. Randy tapped his thumb
on the table lightly as he slowly forced his mouth to form
words. “Are you—You were—” He paused, shook his head
once, and tried again, leaning closer so he could murmur,
“I’m out, Brendan. Everyone in town knows it. As much as I
like you calling me babe, if anyone else hears you call me
that, they’ll draw some conclusions you may not be ready
for.”

For just a split second, a stricken look crossed Brendan’s

face, much like one would look if they’d been slapped. He
recovered quickly, gulping his coffee. Setting his cup down,
Brendan rested both hands on the table, folding them before
him.

Brendan gazed steadily at him as he stated, “Randy, I’m

gay.” He stalled, his jaw working, obviously gearing up to
say something else.

Randy waited, his heart in his throat. Was Brendan really

serious after all? Shit, Randy couldn’t allow the man to turn

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his life upside down for him without sharing some pretty
important shit with him…like filing for custody of Toby. He
felt a bit guilty for keeping the information to himself for so
long, but it’d taken a long time to get the paperwork in
order, including statements from others who noticed how
often he took care of Toby.

“I know you are,” Randy whispered. He reached out and

touched Brendan’s hands, giving him what he hoped was an
encouraging smile. “And I know you’re trying to find your
way out of the closet, which is never easy. Please, tell me
you’re doing this for yourself and not for me.”

Blinking, Brendan remained silent. He glanced up and

Randy followed his gaze. He spotted Leah returning with
their food. There was definitely a questioning tilt to her lips
and brows as she took in how Randy reached across the
table and touched Brendan.

Instead of shying away, Brendan patted Randy’s hand

and finally responded, “A little of both, if I’m being honest.”
He smiled, the move reaching his eyes. “And I’m happy
about that.”

“Okay, guys,” Lisa murmured from where she now stood

by their table. “Here is a shepherd’s pie for you,” she stated,
moving a plate toward the table. Randy pulled his arms back
so she could put the steaming plate down in front of him.
“And a chicken pot pie for you, Coach. Also, here’s that
carrot cake, Randy,” she said, adding that to the table as
well. To the young woman’s credit, she managed to keep her
expression neutrally pleasant as she met both men’s gazes.
“More coffee or anything else I can get you?”

Brendan shook his head, saying, “No, thank you. This

looks fantastic.”

“I’m good, thanks,” Randy responded.

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119

“Okay, holler if you need anything,” Leah told them. As

she turned away, she swept a musing look over Brendan,
then headed toward another table.

Randy knew the gossip mill had just begun.
“So,” Brendan began, peeling back the top crust of his pie,

releasing steam. “Dan picked up tickets to a Seahawk’s
game, but now he can’t go. He’s offered the pair to me. We
could drive up to Seattle on Friday evening, spend Saturday
exploring, then drive home Sunday evening after the game.”

Randy’s brows shot up. “What weekend is that?”
“Next weekend,” Brendan replied, poking his fork into

his pie and scooping up a healthy mouthful of crust, peas,
carrots, potatoes, and chicken. “I know it’s short notice,” he
added before blowing on his food. He smiled, “But it should
be a good game.”

A good game or a bad game would be all the same to

Randy. He didn’t follow the sport enough to know the
difference. It was the fact that Brendan had asked him,
wanted to spend the entire weekend with him that caused
his heart to race in his chest.

He opened his mouth to say yes, except, next weekend?

“Damn, I wish I could, Bren, but I’m supposed to have Toby
next weekend.” He grimaced. “Well, if plans don’t change,
anyway.” He rubbed his hands over his face, suddenly no
longer hungry.

Brendan put down his fork, his expression concerned. “Is

something wrong? Is everything okay with your sister?”

Randy knew he couldn’t put off this discussion any

longer. Especially since his lover knew he and Candice had
gotten into it a few days earlier when she’d, once again, left
Toby on his doorstep. Randy had been on the phone with
her when Brendan had arrived to pick him up to go to a
barbeque out at Randy’s friend’s farm. It’d been the final

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push he needed to stop dragging his feet and finish getting
the last of the custody paperwork together.

Leaning forward, Randy asked quietly, “Can we go

somewhere private to talk?” This was not a conversation to
be had in a public setting.

Brendan’s brows drew down in concern, but he nodded

and answered without hesitation. “Yeah, of course. Is
everything all right?”

Randy shook his head. Memories of all the times Candice

had failed miserably to follow through sliced through him,
making him feel brittle and angry. Pushing the feelings
aside, he admitted, “No, and it could affect our—” He
glanced around, not bothering to finish.

It seemed, Brendan wasn’t nearly so reticent. He frowned

and stated firmly, “There isn’t anything that’s going to
change how I feel about you, babe,” he hissed. “I wish you’d
believe me.”

God, I hope that’s true.
Nodding, Randy called the waitress over and asked for a

couple boxes. Brendan watched him slide most of his meal
into the container, concern darkening his brown eyes. Then,
he followed Randy’s example. Flipping the lid closed, Randy
tried to ignore the tightness in his chest.

Even knowing he was having a major freak-out didn’t

stop the galloping of his heart. Somewhere along the line,
that fickle muscle in his chest had gone and fallen in love
with the sexy man across from him. The fear that Brendan
would walk away almost crippled him.

Needing air, Randy pushed to his feet. He pulled out his

wallet and tossed enough bills on the table to cover both
their meals, then headed toward the door and the promise of
fresh oxygen.

Once outside, Randy stopped and sucked several lungfuls

of air into his chest. Tilting his head back, he stared at the

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121

gray clouds overhead, the promise of more snow taunting
him.

A hand on his shoulder made Randy start. He spun, only

to find Brendan standing behind him with his hands raised
in the universal easy does it position, the plastic bag holding
the to go boxes dangling from his left arm. Randy grimaced.
He needed to calm the fuck down.

Brendan stepped forward again. This time, he gently

turned Randy with a hand to his shoulder, then placed his
other hand on Randy’s lower back. The pressure felt nice,
reassuring. Dazed, Randy allowed himself to be guided to
Brendan’s truck.

He couldn’t even raise a protest when Brendan helped

him into the cab, quietly murmuring, “We’ll come back for
your car later.”

Randy nodded.
Brendan walked around the front, climbed in behind the

wheel, and placed the bag on the floorboard behind his seat.
His lover settled his hand on Randy’s thigh, and he grabbed
onto that hand like a lifeline.

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Chapter Thirteen

rendan had no idea what the hell had just happened in
the restaurant. One minute, they’d been discussing how

Brendan didn’t give a shit about others knowing he was
involved with Randy, next Randy was freaking out. And
that was the only way Brendan could describe it.

He just wished he knew what had caused it.
Finding Randy outside, staring dazedly at the sky,

Brendan had figured out pretty quickly that his lover was in
no shape to drive, so he’d guided the man to his truck. Now,
with his lover gripping his hand as if it were a life preserver
in a rolling sea, Brendan wanted nothing more than to hold
his man until whatever bothered him passed. Well, he’d like
to know what caused it, too, that way he could make certain
it never happened again.

Several tense minutes later, Brendan pulled into the

parking area of his condominium complex. “Come on,
babe,” he urged, gently pulling free of Randy’s clutching
grip. “Let’s get inside where we’ll be more comfortable.”

Randy nodded, his eyes still somewhat glazed.
Brendan worried about that look. Randy had always been

so unflappable. What the hell could ruffle his feathers this
badly?

Guiding his lover out of the truck, then into the house,

Brendan took his lover’s coat and urged Randy onto the
couch. Next, he dug through his pantry until he found a

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bottle of bourbon given to him as a house warming gift by
Devon. His brother knew Brendan didn’t drink strong liquor
often, but Devon had laughed as he’d handed him the bottle
and said, “You’re gonna need this at least once after dealing
with a room full of high schoolers.” He’d winked. “Some of
them weren’t as well behaved as we always were for you.”

They’d all laughed.
How right his brother had been, although he wondered

what Devon would say if he knew it was his boyfriend who
needed the drink. Huh, he had a boyfriend. Brendan grinned
at that idea. Then, looking at the bottle in his hand, he shook
himself and got moving, grabbing a pair of tumblers on the
way.

Brendan found Randy still on the couch, his head resting

in his palms. The lines of his back were filled with tension.
At least his breathing had evened out.

Setting down the tumblers, Brendan opened the bottle. He

poured several fingers in each glass. He placed a hand on
Randy’s shoulder, encouraging the man to sit up. “Take a
sip, Randy,” he urged, holding out the tumbler.

Randy took it, his brow lifting in surprise. “Didn’t even

know you had this shit in the house,” he mumbled, taking
the glass.

“Potty mouth,” Brendan teased. He grabbed his own

glass, then settled on the couch at an angle, his knee pressing
into Randy’s. “Please, tell me what’s wrong? Did I push too
hard by asking you to go away with me for the weekend?”
He didn’t voice what he really wanted to know.

Are you not as serious about this relationship as I am?
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to work on that, I guess,” Randy

mumbled absently, confusing Brendan further. He watched
as Randy took a sip. As he swallowed, his lover’s brows
lifted in surprise. “Tastes good,” he stated, lifting his glass.

“Devon gave it to me. He’s not cheap on liquors.”

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Randy nodded.
Brendan had told his lover all about his family, even

though he wasn’t out to them…yet. His gut still cramped
any time he thought about what his father would say. He
didn’t want to lose the love and respect of the man, but he
didn’t want to lose his chance at making a life with Randy,
either. Brendan knew, the next time his Pops asked, his
conscience wouldn’t allow him to lie about having someone
special in his life. Maybe he should take a drive up this
weekend.

Would talking in person help?
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Randy stated,

easing back on the couch to stare at him.

Brendan put that decision on the back-burner and waved

for Randy to continue. Now his heart pounded in his chest
for a completely different reason. Hell, he’d do anything for
this man. He prayed that didn’t include the man asking for
his space.

After taking another sip of his drink, Randy stared into

the glass. “Do you remember the night we met? At the
game?”

As if Brendan could forget. Meeting Randy had knocked

his world on its axis. He reached over and gripped his
lover’s knee. “I feel grateful for that day every time I think
about it,” he admitted.

Randy raised his head and smiled wryly at him. “Me, too,

but to get flattered isn’t actually why I brought it up.”

Relieved that Randy seemed to have regained his

composure, Brendan took a sip of his own bourbon while
squeezing Randy’s knee. He made a go on motion with his
other hand.

“The day before, Candy had dropped Toby off on my

doorstep.” Randy’s eyes turned grave. “I wasn’t home. I

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don’t know how long he sat outside and waited for me to get
home from work.”

Brendan’s eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he whispered,

suddenly glad he’d gotten out the bourbon.

Randy sighed. “I called her and it was like, she didn’t

even care.” Scrubbing his free hand over his face, Randy
muttered, “She’s always been a flake, but she’d never just
left her kid before. Then she told me he was staying with me
for the weekend. Didn’t even ask. Just said she was going to
New York City and she’d pick Toby up on Sunday night.”
Dropping his hand, Randy’s eyes filled with anguish. “But
then she didn’t!”

“She didn’t what?”
Randy frowned. “She stood us up Sunday evening and

didn’t show up until Monday night.” He downed the last
gulp of his beverage and pushed to his feet. Brendan
watched as he started pacing. As he paced, Randy talked,
telling each and every time Candice had dropped Toby off
and how often there was no notice and no way of knowing
when she’d actually pick him up again.

Brendan had thought it odd that Toby was at Randy’s so

often, but he’d just thought Candice worked long hours at
some salon, since he’d learned she was a beautician. Except,
now he realized that wasn’t the case. Candice didn’t work.
She partied…a lot. And, now, Randy feared not everything
Candice used was legal, and Toby had told Randy how he
sometimes had to stay in his room when people came over
and they played the music really loud.

Randy finally stopped pacing and turned to face Brendan,

his expression guarded. “I can’t, in good conscience, allow
Toby to live in that kind of environment. I contacted a
lawyer and filed for custody.”

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126

This time, it was Brendan’s turn for his jaw to sag open,

shock coursing through him. “Oh,” he whispered. Damn,
what was he supposed to say to that?

Sighing, Randy rubbed a hand over his jaw. He stared at

the wall over Brendan’s head as he stated, “I wanted to be
up front with you, Brendan. If you don’t want to date a guy
who could end up with a kid, I understand.”

Brendan cocked his head as irritation flooded him. He

knew he scowled, but couldn’t seem to help it. After all he’d
shared about his own upbringing, Randy thought he’d bail
now?

Slowly, he stood. “Wait a minute,” Brendan rumbled.

“You think I would walk away from you, if you have Toby
full time?”

Randy just stared at him, his expression guarded.
“You did,” Brendan growled. “Damn, Rand. After

everything I told you about helping to raise my brothers,
you think having Toby around all the time would be a deal
breaker?” He shook his head, offended and hurt.

Blood flooded Randy’s cheeks and he couldn’t meet

Brendan’s gaze as he muttered, “There’s one more thing,
Bren.” He flicked his gaze to Brendan’s face, then looked
away again. “In order for me to have a shot at getting Toby, I
can’t—“ He grimaced, then finished softly, “If I’m in a
relationship, it’s fine, but I have to be upfront about it in
court.” Randy cleared his throat, and added, “Candice was
being served the papers this morning by my attorney, and a
social worker was going with them to review whether or not
the charges regarding neglect and child safety were
founded. It could all happen pretty quickly.”

Randy finally met Brendan’s gaze head on, and the regret

and fear etched across his lover’s features nearly tore
Brendan’s heart out. “I’m going against my sister, Toby’s
mother, because I’m afraid for my nephew’s well-being and

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127

safety. I have to put him first. I can’t hide a relationship and
make this work.”

His knees suddenly weak, Brendan settled back onto the

sofa. He swallowed the last of his bourbon and found
himself extremely tempted to have some more. Instead, he
placed the tumbler on the coffee table. He eased back and
rested his hands on his thighs. Brendan’s heart thudded in
his chest.

Yeah, he’d planned to come out, but…now? Right now?
Brendan tipped his head back and spotted the worry, the

concern, the fear…hell, even affection and understanding in
Randy’s eyes. Licking his lips, Brendan cleared his throat.
“So, you’d need me out…all the way out,” he whispered.
Yeah, he had every intention of getting there, but he’d
thought he’d have more time.

Randy crossed the room and sat on the edge of the coffee

table, his legs bracketing Brendan’s. After a second’s
hesitation, Randy reached forward and rested his hands on
Brendan’s where they lay on his thighs. He squeezed lightly.

“You told me you’re willing to come out, and I respect

that. If you need more time, we’ll take a step back.” Randy
gave him an understanding smile. “I’m willing to wait for
you, Bren. You’re worth it to me.”

Brendan’s heart nearly stopped in his chest at that

admission, reading the truth in Randy’s eyes. His lover
would wait for him to get his shit together, give him time to
come out, let him do that at his speed and be waiting for
him.

The love that he’d been feeling for Randy for weeks, hell,

the last month, swelled through him. Randy hadn’t said
love, but he was willing to wait for him. That told Brendan
that Randy remembered and respected how important
fidelity was to him. That was a step in the right direction,
right? Flipping his hands, he threaded his fingers with

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128

Randy as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Randy’s,
sipping from his lips lightly.

A cell phone’s chirp caused Randy to pull back. He gave

Brendan an apologetic smile and pulled his phone from his
shirt pocket. Upon seeing the screen, Randy sucked in a slow
breath before saying, “It’s Candy. I need to take this.”

“Of course.”
Randy swiped his thumb across the phone’s face,

accepting the call. “Hello, Candy,” Randy greeted levelly.

“You fucking faggot bastard! How could you do this to

me? Your own sister!”

Candice’s words came through so loud and clear,

Brendan had no trouble making them out. Randy’s grip
tightened on the hand he held and replied firmly, “Candy, I
have been there for you for years, taking care of you and
Toby. We both know you had Toby while you were very
young, and you’re not ready to settle down. You want to
have fun, live your life.”

Randy’s grip tightened nearly to the point of pain as he

rushed on. “This wouldn’t be permanent. All I’m asking is
for you to allow me to care for Toby while you, um—”
Randy faltered, and Brendan didn’t blame him. Anything he
said at this point would sound, well, rude. Of course, he was
petitioning to take her son.

A vibrating in his pocket made Brendan jump. At Randy’s

questioning look, Brendan gave him a reassuring smile as he
reached into his own pocket and pulled out his phone.
Seeing Carmen’s name flash on the screen, he frowned.
Grimacing, he hated leaving his brother hanging, but he had
more pressing issues at that second. After sending it to
voicemail, Brendan returned his focus to his lover.

When Candice started yelling again, Randy rose and

crossed the room. He rested his hand on the fireplace mantel
and leaned against it. “Candice, I’m not saying you can’t see

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129

Toby. I just want to offer him some stability. You want to
travel. You want to party. You want to hang out with friends
and go to fancy dinners. Give me custody of Toby and you
can do all that.”

Seconds later, Randy rested his head on the stone and

closed his eyes tightly. The lines around his mouth
tightened, then he said, “Hello, Doug.”

Brendan’s brows shot up. Who the hell was Doug?
For a moment, Randy just stood there, obviously

listening. His shoulders tensed. His Adam’s apple bobbed as
he swallowed hard, several times. Finally, Randy lowered
his phone from his ear and rested it on the mantel.
Evidently, whatever had been said wasn’t good. Although,
from Candice’s obvious temper, that wasn’t a surprise.

“I’d better go,” Randy whispered. “Maybe I should take a

cab.”

There was no way in hell Brendan would allow Randy to

go through this on his own. Crossing to the man, Brendan
wrapped his arms around Randy and pressed his chest to his
lover’s back. Over the last couple of weeks, he’d discovered
this was one of his favorite positions, allowing him to hold
his man tightly, explore his lean torso, and settle his chin on
Randy’s shoulder.

Brendan found it comforting, and since it never failed that

Randy rested his weight against him, he knew his lover
enjoyed it as well. Except, this time, Randy stood rigid in his
embrace, his chin lowered to his chest, his breathing ragged.

“You’re not taking a cab anywhere, Randy,” Brendan

growled into his ear. “You’re mine and I won’t let you go
through this alone.”

“They found drug paraphernalia at my sister’s,” Randy

whispered. “Between the list of activities I gave them, along
with the statements from a few friends who noted how often
I had Toby, it was reason enough for the social worker to

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130

take Toby. I’ve already had one inspection to prove my
home is suitable for him, so now I need to call the social
worker and find out when I can take him home.” Randy
trembled in Brendan’s arms. “Damn, why didn’t I think
about how this would affect Toby? I’m such an asshole.”

“Hey, hey,” Brendan crooned. “You are thinking about

Toby. In the long run, being with you, a kind, sweet, stable
adult, is so much better than being with someone who
willfully puts him in unsafe environments.” He nuzzled his
lover’s temple, hating the tension thrumming through
Randy. Spreading his fingers, he slid his hands up, palming
Randy’s chest with one and cupping his throat with the
other. He urged Randy to lean against him.

Randy sighed and finally settled against him. His head

lolled against Brendan’s shoulder and Randy peered up at
him. After a second, he whispered, “That was Doug on the
phone, Candy’s boyfriend. After they took Toby, Candy
called him first, then me. He arrived while I was talking to
her.” His smile turned sad. “I really thought I’d gotten her
calmed down, but then Doug got on the phone. He’s a
lawyer. He’s threatening to sue for defamation.”

Brendan frowned. He knew he’d heard that term but…

“What is that again?”

“For slandering her name and bringing false charges

against her.”

“Think that’ll stick?”
Randy shrugged. “I don’t know. I need to talk to Patrick.

He’s my lawyer.”

“Okay,” Brendan nibbled his way up Randy’s neck.

“Then you make your calls. I’ll go out and get the food from
the truck. You need to eat.”

Tilting his head, Randy pursed his lips. Brendan didn’t

need a vocal request. He claimed his man’s lips, nibbling
along the plump lower flesh until his lover opened, then

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131

thrust his tongue in deep. He explored Randy’s mouth,
tasting hints of bourbon and under that, everything
masculine that made him so perfect.

Randy turned his head breaking the kiss.
Brendan growled and tried to use the grip on his lover’s

throat to get his mouth back where he wanted...namely,
within plundering range.

“Wait,” Randy gasped.
“Don’t want to,” Brendan snarled. He lowered his second

hand down Randy’s torso to cup his groin, gratified to find
his lover’s cock hard. “Want to make you feel good.”

A whine escaped Randy, and he bucked into Brendan’s

grip. Seconds later, he rocked his ass backward, rubbing
over Brendan’s stiff shaft, trapped in his jeans, pulling a
groan from his throat.

“D-Don’t want…ugh!”
Brendan blinked at his lover’s partial words. Huh? Gently

cupping Randy’s balls, he used his thumb to slowly massage
the base of Randy’s erection through the fabric. The fingers
of his other hand petted Randy’s neck.

“Don’t what, babe? Why don’t you want me to make you

feel good?”

Randy shivered in his grip, panting softly. He licked his

lips, then mumbled, “Don’t want Doug coming after you,
too.”

Brendan’s blood rushed through his veins for a whole

different reason. He smiled against Randy’s neck. “You
remember what you said to me when I first started talking
about coming out?”

From the corner of his eye, Brendan saw Randy’s brows

draw together in obvious confusion. Brendan figured the
way he continued to gently rub Randy’s prick probably had
something to do with why his lover couldn’t seem to focus.

Just how I like him…out of his mind with lust.

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132

“You remember all those guys we’ve been hanging with

and barbequing with over the last couple of weeks?”
Brendan crooned. “You know…your friends and, well—”
He paused, uncertain if he could really claim more than just
Dan as his friend, but whatever. “You said yourself that
they’re a supportive bunch. You really think they won’t rally
around you?” Pressing soft kisses up the tendons of his
lover’s neck, he whispered, “You’re not in this alone, babe.
We’re all here with you. We all care about you and Toby.”

It was true, too. He’d seen how everyone interacted with

Toby. At that first barbeque Brendan had attended—even
before he’d gotten together with Randy—he’d noted how
Lorna babysat and Carl took extra time to pick out the
perfect hot dog. At another time, they’d traveled out to
Randy’s friend, Trace’s home where he lived on a pig farm
with his partner, Laramie. They’d taken Toby on a pony
ride. Well, it’d been on a horse named Skye, but they’d led it
around the back yard like a pony. Then they’d toured the
pig barns with Carl and Lorna, and Laramie had let the kids
pet a small piglet. It’d been…sweet.

Brendan nipped the sensitive skin behind Randy’s ear,

then pulled the lobe into his mouth and suckled softly. Once
he heard his lover’s moan, Brendan released Randy’s lobe
and whispered, “I’m not going anywhere, Randy. We’ll get
through this together. You and me. Even if I have to shout
how much I love you to the world.” He nipped his lover’s
ear again. “Got it?”

Randy froze in his arms. For just a second, Brendan

thought he’d gone too far. He’d curbed his desire to express
his dedication, his love, over the past couple of weeks
because he knew he’d blown his lover out of the water when
he’d blurted out the declaration a couple of weeks before.

Then, Randy tilted his head and smiled up at him,

emotion making his green eyes glitter. “I love you, too.”

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133

Swallowing hard, his heart tripping in his chest, Brendan

grinned widely. “It’s about fucking time,” he growled.

Brendan slammed his mouth over Randy’s lips. He thrust

his

tongue

deep,

probing

his

lover’s

tonsils,

wanting…needing to consume his lover. He needed to stake
his claim, show the man who he belonged to, assure him
that Brendan belonged to him, too.

While massaging Randy’s package, he rubbed his man’s

nipple through his shirt, reveling in the way it beaded
beneath his ministrations. Randy fed him a moan, and
Brendan growled in response and rocked his hips,
desperately seeking friction for his own, denim-covered
cock.

The clatter of something crashing to the floor didn’t

penetrate so much as the deeply spoken “Holy shit!” Then
that same deep voice cried, “Pops, wait! Don’t—”

“What the hell?”
Fighting through his haze of lust, Brendan lifted his head

and peered over his shoulder, trying to get his brain to make
sense of the scene unfolding behind him.

Brendan met Carmen’s shocked brown eyes, so much like

his own. Then, Brendan spotted the disbelieving
countenance of his father standing just behind his brother.
Arnold’s jaw sagged open, his eyes wide in disbelief. “S-
Son?”

His erection shriveled, dying a quick death.
Randy’s muttered, “Oh, shit,” told him he wasn’t the only

one who saw his brother and father standing on the far side
of the room.

Okay, not a bad dream.
When Brendan had told his family where he kept his

spare key, never in a million years did he think it’d come
back to bite him in the ass like this.

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134

The way his lover tensed in his arms a split second before

he started to move away pulled Brendan from his own
shock. Growling, Brendan refocused on Randy and
tightened his grip, holding him in place. “You’re my love,”
Brendan whispered into Randy’s ear. “I’m not ashamed of
you.”

Randy met his gaze, fear riddling his expression. “I-I

don’t want to cause problems for you.”

Brendan actually chuckled, surprised and pleased that he

could actually find humor here. “There’s no way I could
explain this away, my love,” he stated, discreetly rubbing his
thumb over his man’s softened cock once before sliding his
hand to Randy’s hip. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t want
to. I love you. It’s not the way I would have chosen to break
the news to my family, but sometimes fate’s a fickle bitch.”

Swallowing, Randy nodded once.
“Okay, go head upstairs to my office and make your

calls,” he advised. “Then, come back down and meet my
father and brother.” He had to believe they’d still be there
once this all shook out.

Again, Randy nodded.
Unable to resist his lover’s lips—even in front of family—

Brendan pecked Randy’s lips once, then urged him to go
upstairs.

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135

Chapter Fourteen

rendan watched Randy head upstairs. His lover kept
his head down, not even glancing once to his left,

toward the front of the room and the foyer.

Screwing up his courage, Brendan turned and headed

toward the foyer where Carmen had corralled his father.
Even though he expected it, finding the area empty sent a
spike of disappointment through him, until he saw the front
door remained slightly ajar. Pulling it open, he spotted his
father and brother a few feet away.

Arnold—a tall, broad-shouldered man that all the boys

except Peter took after—stood frowning at Carmen, who had
his hand on his shoulder and spoke softly to him. Brendan
watched Arnold rub his shortly cropped, graying hair and
shake his head.

Clearing his throat, Brendan drew their attention. Both

turned toward him. His father’s expression appeared
impassive, and Brendan wasn’t completely certain if he was
angry, upset, or just confused.

His brother, on the other hand, stepped forward with a

smile and clapped him on the back. Brendan just bit back a
gasp when Carmen whispered, “Sorry to be a cock blocker,
man. You should have picked up your phone.” Brendan
knew he sported a shocked look, because Carmen shrugged
one shoulder and smirked.

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136

Stepping backward, Brendan motioned toward the door.

“Please, come in.”

They followed him inside his condo.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Brendan commented, just for

something to say. “An hour and a half is a bit of a drive.”

“Uh, yeah,” Carmen replied. “I took Pops to dinner, then

realized we were already halfway here, so figured since we
hadn’t seen you in a couple of months, we’d swing by, ya
know?”

“We didn’t know you had company, Son,” Arnold stated

gruffly.

Brendan nodded. “Yeah. That’s Randy Coughlan. He’s

upstairs making a couple phone calls.”

Carmen grinned, his eyes narrowing a bit. “Well, that

explains why you didn’t answer your phone.”

“Carmen,” Arnold scolded. “Don’t make assumptions.”
Figuring there was no point in prolonging the inevitable,

Brendan reached into the fridge, pulled out three beers, and
placed them on the counter. Glancing between the two men,
he stated, “Carmen’s assumption would be right. Randy is
my, well, boyfriend sounds stupid.” He forced a smile.
“How about the man I hope will soon be my partner?”

Without missing a beat, Carmen grabbed the beer and

popped the cap, saying, “Well, I’m happy for ya, man. It’s
about bloody time you found someone.”

Brendan felt his eyes widen as he met Carmen’s open

smile. Never in a million years did he expect this response
from his brother, for him to be this happy for him. Relief and
gratefulness flooded him and he couldn’t help but smile
back at Carmen. “Thanks, man.”

Turning his attention to his father, Brendan softly stated,

“You told me you didn’t want me to be alone and if I was
attracted to a little white girl you’d be happy for me.” He
shrugged. “Well, it’s actually a white man, instead.”

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Arnold turned away and Brendan’s heart thudded hard

in his chest. Even as Carmen rounded the counter and
gripped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, offering
reassurance and support, Brendan couldn’t pull his gaze
away from his father. Arnold picked up the bottle of
bourbon where Brendan had left it on the coffee table. He
grabbed one of the tumblers, seeming not to care who’d
used it before him, and poured a couple of fingers of alcohol
into it. He downed it, then poured some more. He set the
bottle back onto the coffee table and eased onto an E-Z chair,
resting the glass on his thigh.

Finally, Arnold sighed and looked up, his gaze moving

between Brendan, Carmen, and back again. “Did I do
something wrong with you boys?”

Brendan scowled at the odd question.

Boys? Plural? Huh?
Finally, he looked at Carmen, knowing he wouldn’t even

need to vocalize his question. Carmen smiled wryly as he
reached up and scratched at the short, maybe inch and a half
long dreadlocks his wiry black hair had been braided into. “I
took Pops out to lunch today because I wanted to tell him
about Tyler, my boyfriend.”

Feeling completely blind-sided, Brendan wondered how

he’d missed it. “You’re gay, too?”

Carmen shrugged. “I consider myself bisexual, but

definitely prefer the company of men,” he admitted. “I’ve
been dating Tyler for about six months and it wasn’t fair to
him that I hid him.”

“Damn, man,” Brendan whispered. He wrapped his arms

around his brother and jerked him into a crushing hug.
“Wish I’d known.”

Chuckling, Carmen returned the embrace. “You do now,

yeah?”

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138

“Do Devon, Peter, and Nick know?” Brendan couldn’t

help but ask.

“Not, yet. I wanted to tell Pops first, then you,” Carmen

told him.

Brendan understood the reasoning. When their father was

at work and they’d been left home alone, Brendan had been
the head of the household. He had essentially helped raise
his brothers. It made sense that Carmen would want to tell
him next, and Brendan truly felt grateful that the man cared
enough to share with him like this.

After one more pound on Carmen’s back, Brendan

murmured, “Love you, brother.”

“Back atcha,” Carmen responded, smirking.
“Let’s go reassure Pops,” he said, drawing away.
Carmen nodded and followed him into the living room.

They sat on opposite ends of the sofa, facing their father.
“You didn’t do anything, Dad,” Brendan stated. Leaning
forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs and held his
father’s gaze. “This isn’t something where a parent makes a
mistake and their kid turns out gay,” he assured. “This is
just…nature. You’re attracted to who you’re attracted to.”

Arnold’s jaw clenched and released before he slowly

asked, “And this…Randy?”

Brendan nodded, waiting to see what he’d say. Thinking

of Randy, he hoped his phone calls were going okay. He
knew he’d need to take his lover home soon. He hated
skipping out on his family when they’d come all this way,
but they’d left Randy’s car at the diner.

“Does Randy, uh, treat you right?” Arnold finally asked.
Just as he opened his mouth to answer, movement on the

stairs caught his attention. Brendan watched Randy appear
and he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” Brendan said, then
turned his focus to his father. “Yeah, Randy treats me right.”

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139

He scoffed. “He’s been far more patient with me than any
man has any right to ask for.”

Then, he returned his focus to Randy, who stood halfway

down the stairs, peering at them uncertainly. Lifting his
hand, he beckoned to Randy. “Come on down, babe. Do you
need to go get Toby?”

Carmen leaned toward him and whispered, “Who’s

Toby?”

Brendan glanced at his brother. “His nephew. He’s a

sweet kid.”

“Why would he need to go get him?”
With a quick shake of his head, Brendan ended the

conversation. He stood and returned his focus to Randy,
who slowly crossed to his side. Unable to resist touching the
man, even in the presence of his family, Brendan rested his
palm on the small of Randy’s back.

“Randy, this is my father, Arnold Gateman, and my

brother, Carmen,” Brendan introduced. “Pops, Carmen, this
is Randy Coughlan. He’s a paramedic.”

“A paramedic,” Carmen said, rising and shaking Randy’s

hand. “How the hell did you meet this yahoo?” he asked,
pointing a thumb at Brendan.

Randy glanced up at Brendan, then looked at Carmen.

“My buddy Wade, who I work with, convinced me to
volunteer my services at the local football games.”

Brendan smiled down at him. “I’m glad you did.”
“Me, too,” Randy murmured, his smile sincere.
“You a football fan, then?” Arnold finally spoke.
Randy shook his head. “No, Sir. Not really.”
Arnold’s graying brows shot up. He glanced at Brendan,

who shrugged. “Naw, football’s not really Randy’s thing,
but if you ever need a car fixed, he’s your man.”

“Really?” Arnold returned his focus to Randy. “A

paramedic and a mechanic? That’s impressive.”

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140

Shaking his head, Randy replied, “I’m not really a

mechanic. I just enjoy tinkering.”

“You’re too modest, babe,” Brendan stated. He looked at

his brother. “You should see the sixty-nine Challenger he’s
restoring. She’s a real beauty.”

Carmen whistled appreciatively.
Randy turned to Brendan. “I’m really sorry, but I need to

go. I’m supposed to meet Patrick at the social worker’s
office. I need to pick up Toby.”

Brendan nodded. “I’ll take you to the café to get your car.

Then, I’ll follow you to the office.”

“Thank you,” Randy replied. Then he glanced around

and—concern filling his expressive green eyes—said, “I
don’t want to pull you away from your family.”

Brendan shook his head. “I told you I wouldn’t make you

go through this alone.”

Randy pursed his lips as he glanced around the group

again. “If you think you’ll be hungry in an hour or two, we
can grill at my place,” he offered, then turned to look at
Brendan. “I’ll invite Vincent, Carl, and his kids. I’m sure
Toby would appreciate the distraction.” Randy looked
between Carmen and Arnold. “Brendan said you lived an
hour and a half away. I’m not sure when I’ll get to my place,
but I’d be happy to barbeque for you.”

Heart thudding in his chest, Brendan appreciated Randy’s

thoughtfulness, even while going through trying times.

Arnold glanced at Carmen, who shrugged and asked,

“You mind if I invite my boyfriend, Tyler?” Carmen smiled
at his father. “I realize this is a lot for you to take in today,
but I’d really like for you to meet him.”

Randy nodded. “You can invite whoever you want.”
“Uh, Pops,” Brendan cut in. Even as he liked that his lover

was willing to spend time with his family, he wasn’t certain

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141

how his father would react to that kind of gathering. “I
figure I should tell you that Carl and Vincent are partners.”

His father scowled at him. “You don’t want me meeting

your friends, Son? You hiding something else?”

“No, Pops,” Brendan replied. “I just…uh…”
Randy patted his back. “You’re digging yourself into a

hole, Bren. Grab me a pen and paper so I can write down my
address.”

Brendan shook his head. “No need. I’ll text it to Carmen.”

He grabbed their coats out of the closet and, after handing
Randy his coat, told his family, “Feel free to make yourselves
at home. When we know when we’ll get to Randy’s, I’ll
call.”

Even as he nodded, Arnold frowned. “Is everything all

right, boys? You all need help with something?”

Once again, Brendan’s throat clogged with emotion. He

felt the pin-pricks of tears threaten his eyes. He’d been so
worried his father—hell, all of his family—would reject him.
An understanding look flashed in his Pops’ eyes, and
Brendan suddenly found himself wrapped in a hard hug.

“I love you, Son,” Arnold whispered.
Brendan felt one of the tears he’d been fighting slip.

“Love you, too, Pops,” he mumbled. “Thank you.”

Arnold drew back and gripped his neck. He shook him

gently as his dark-eyed gaze bore into him. “You’re my son.
I can’t say I understand, but I just want you to be happy.”
He glanced toward Randy before returning his focus to
Brendan. “I’ll see you later. We’ll talk more then.”

Nodding, Brendan whispered, “Thanks, Pops.”
Brendan pulled on his own coat, then waved to Carmen,

who was on the phone, probably talking with his boyfriend
judging by the smile on his face and the twinkle in his eye.
Once again resting his hand on Randy’s back, he guided him
toward the door.

Charlie Richards

142

Randy called a good-bye and a nice to meet you, then they

were outside. As the door shut, Brendan grinned. Tension he
hadn’t even realized he carried around seemed to have
vanished.

“You okay?” Randy asked quietly.
Grinning at the love of his life, Brendan nodded, “Yeah.

Yeah, I am.” Sliding his grip to Randy’s hand, he twined
their fingers together. “Let’s go get Toby.”

Three Point Tuck

143

Chapter Fifteen

andy climbed into the truck next to Brendan, his mind
reeling from everything that had happened in the last

couple of hours. His plan to get Toby out of a bad
environment was so far working. Brendan still remained by
his side, and his lover was now not only out to some of his
family, but accepted by them.

He knew Brendan had been blind-sided by the arrival of

his family. Randy had feared the worst, especially when
he’d walked downstairs and found Arnold with the bourbon
and Carmen with a beer.

The emotional hug between father and son, not to

mention the mention of a boyfriend by Carmen, had eased
Randy’s fears greatly. He’d never want to be the cause of
Brendan losing his family.

“Up you get, babe,” Brendan encouraged, tugging lightly

at his hand.

Randy focused and realized they’d arrived at the diner

where he’d left his car, and his lover had already rounded
their ride and had opened the truck’s passenger door for
him. Pulling his head out of his ass, Randy climbed down—
accepting a far more PDA kiss from his lover than he’d ever
imagined getting—and headed toward his vehicle.

When Randy finally parked his Challenger in the lot

outside the building housing their town’s child services

Charlie Richards

144

branch, he spotted a couple of police cruisers. He would
have been intimidated, except then he saw Patrick waiting
by the door. The slender redhead looked impeccable in his
suit, and it suddenly occurred to Randy that maybe he
should have gone home and changed.

“Too late now,” he muttered, starting toward the man.
Brendan jogged up and met them when they reached the

door.

Patrick lifted a brow. Randy had already discussed that

he had a lover with the lawyer, so the man held out his hand
and stated, “You are Brendan Gateman?”

“I am,” Brendan replied, taking Patrick’s hand and

shaking it.

“I’m Patrick Dolcet, Randy’s lawyer. Since you’re here, I

assume you don’t have plans to remain in the closet,” he
stated bluntly, pulling the door open and leading the way
inside.

Brendan chuckled. “No. It’s not common knowledge, yet,

but that’s right, I’m not hiding.”

Patrick nodded once, then looked over his shoulder at

Randy. “I’m afraid things have gotten a bit more
complicated since I spoke with you on the phone.”

Randy felt the blood drain from his face. “Are you saying

I can’t take Toby home?”

“Not at all,” Patrick assured. “It has to do with your sister

and her boyfriend. Charges are being levied against them
both.”

Swallowing hard, Randy met Patrick’s gaze. “What

charges?”

Patrick stepped into the elevator and waited until the

door closed before answering. Giving Randy a sympathetic
look, he explained, “She had a bag of something on the
kitchen counter.” He shook his head. “The police didn’t give
me specifics, but, hell, any possession is chargeable.” He

Three Point Tuck

145

punched the button for the third floor. “She was arrested,
which meant Toby had to go with the social worker and be
brought here.”

Randy grabbed the railing as the elevator started moving.

“Oh.” He hadn’t intended to get his sister in trouble with the
law. He’d just wanted Toby safe.

Brendan stepped close and wrapped his arm around his

shoulders, pulling him close. “I can tell what you’re
thinking, babe, and this isn’t your fault. You were only
doing what was right for Toby.”

Trying to keep that in mind, Randy nodded. Even as he

took advantage of Brendan’s arm around him and pressed
close, he asked, “So, what’s her bail? Does she have to agree
to rehab or something?”

“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that,” Patrick

hedged.

Randy glared, pulling away from Brendan. “Well, spit it

out already.”

The elevator stopped and the door opened. Patrick

stepped forward, then turned and blocked the doorway.
Quietly, he stated, “Because of the drugs, the police brought
in a drug sniffing dog. Before he arrived, Doug Womak
showed up, claiming the drugs must have been planted and
he was going to sue you.”

Grimacing, Randy nodded. “Yeah, he grabbed the phone

from Candy and started making threats along those lines.”
He frowned. “Is it even possible?”

“Not anymore.” Patrick actually appeared gleeful. “The

drug dog didn’t even get into the house. He signaled next to
Doug’s car. They found several kilos in the trunk. He won’t
be suing anyone anytime soon.” Stepping out of the way,
Patrick held the door open. “Doug’s being charged for drug
trafficking.” He waved his hand negligently. “Among other
thing.”

Charlie Richards

146

Randy’s heart thudded wildly in his chest as he followed,

“So, what does that mean for Candy?” Damn. He knew his
sister was a grown woman, but maybe if he’d paid more
attention to the people she was hanging out with…

Following Randy out of the elevator, Brendan grabbed his

hand and pulled him to a stop. “Hey, cut that out right
now,” he snapped. He cupped Randy’s jaw and forced him
to meet his gaze. “You can only control your own actions.
No one else’s.”

“I know,” Randy muttered sadly. “I just wish I could have

caught it before it got this bad. How did I not see it?”

Brendan shrugged. “You were probably too busy taking

care of Toby,” he pointed out.

Randy smiled, trying to beat back the guilt. He nodded.
“And now, you’ll care for Toby when she cannot, right?”

Brendan urged. “Just focus on that.”

Knowing Brendan spoke the truth, and knowing Randy

would do everything in his power to get Candice help,
Randy nodded. “Let’s go get Toby.”

Hours later, Randy sat on the bed, listening to Toby read

a story from The Boxcar Children series. He knew Brendan sat
downstairs with his father, brother, and several others. He
could hear the scrape of chairs on wood floors and the low
murmur of masculine voices.

Randy knew those people down there had his back, and

he’d have theirs. He might have lost his sister—although he
hoped at some point Candice would agree to speak with
him—but he still had family. It just happened to be people of
his own making.

“Am I gonna live here all the time now?”
Refocusing on his nephew, Randy smiled and nodded.

“You are. How do you feel about that?”

Three Point Tuck

147

Maybe it wasn’t wise to ask, but he hoped Toby would

say yes.

“It’s okay. It’s more fun here. When will I get to see

momma?”

Randy gently ruffled his nephew’s hair, trying to figure

out the best way to answer that. Deciding honesty would be
best, he softly replied, “I don’t know, sport. She was sick and
needed help.”

Since Candice had agreed to testify against Doug, and

had given the police what names she knew, she’d been
allowed parole. One of the stipulations was rehab and so
Randy had found and paid for it. Still she refused to speak
with him.

Toby nodded. “Will we visit her in the hospital?”
Randy shook his head. “Afraid not, buddy. It might be a

long time before we’re allowed to see her.” He forced a
smile. “I’m sorry, Toby.”

“Okay. I hope she gets well soon.” Toby smiled up at

Randy. “We should send her a card.”

Although uncertain where Toby learned that, Randy still

couldn’t help but smile and nod. “Me, too, champ. Good
idea.” He’d have to remember to pick up a packet of
assorted cards, so Toby could do just that. Leaning down,
Randy pressed a kiss on Toby’s forehead. “Go to sleep now.
I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Randy rose and pulled the blanket up to Toby’s chin. He

leaned down and kissed Toby’s forehead again, murmuring,
“I love you, Toby.”

“Love you, too, Uncle Randy.”
Leaving the room, Randy turned out the lights and left

the door open a few inches. He listened at the door for a few
minutes, but before long, the rustle of fabric quieted, telling
Randy his nephew had fallen asleep. He knew Toby would

Charlie Richards

148

yell if he ended up waking and needed him, so he headed
down the stairs.

Randy found Brendan sitting on a sofa. Glancing around

the living room, he wondered where the rest of the men had
gone.

Evidently, Brendan must have read the question on his

face, for he rose and stalked toward him. A feral smile
curved his dark lips.

Randy instinctively backed a step, not remembering the

stairs behind him, and stumbled. His ass landed on a step
with a thump. Chuckling, Brendan kept coming. He
straddled Randy on the steps and settled on top of him,
pressing their groins together.

Bracketing Randy’s head with his forearms, Brendan

leaned close and captured Randy’s lips in a slow, thorough
claiming. He thrust in his tongue, mapping Randy’s mouth
slowly before drawing back and sucking his lower lip into
his mouth.

“Dear, sweet, Randy,” Brendan crooned. “I’ve been

waiting for you.”

Lying sprawled out under Brendan, Randy’s breathing

sped up and all his blood flowed south. He brought his arms
up and slid them around his lover’s body, scraping his nails
over Brendan’s t-shirt covered back.

It seemed like ages ago that he’d felt his lover’s body,

even though he’d been in this man’s arms just that
afternoon. Seeing the shiver that worked through Brendan,
feeling the ripple of his muscles under his fingertips, caused
Randy’s own dick to thicken nearly to the point of pain.

“And now that I’m here, what do you intend to do to

me?” Randy whispered, mindful of the boy he’d just left.

Brendan’s full lips curved into a smirk as he peered down

at Randy. “Oh, it’s not what I plan to do to you,” he crooned.

Three Point Tuck

149

His lover slid his hands up and twined their fingers
together.

Randy had quickly learned that this was Brendan’s

favorite position, with their hands threaded together.
Smiling up at his lover, he squeezed their joined hands.
“Then what is it?”

Lowering his head, Brendan nuzzled Randy’s neck. He

tilted his head, giving the man more room. Brendan quickly
took advantage of the silent invitation and nibbled his way
up the tendons, finishing by sucking on the sensitive skin
under Randy’s ear. He fought back a moan.

Brendan released the flesh and lifted his head just enough

so he could meet Randy’s gaze. “Here’s what I’m going to
do to you,” he whispered, lust blazing from his dark eyes.
“I’m going to lead you up these stairs to your bedroom.
We’re going to lock the bedroom door.”

Randy sure liked Brendan’s idea so far. So did his cock,

his erection oozing and flexing in his jeans. “Then what?”

“Then,” Brendan continued, “we’re gonna strip each

other down. I’m gonna kiss every inch of that pale flesh that
I love so very much.” Brendan rocked his hips, rubbing their
cocks together.

Even through two layers of denim, the friction felt damn

good on Randy’s erection. Tingles danced through his balls
and he felt them pull tighter. Pre-cum oozed from his slit
and he ached. Grunting, he remembered their first time
together, rutting against each other as Brendan pressed him
on the wall. Coming in their jeans like horny teens. With his
cock aching and his balls pulled tight, that suddenly felt like
a fantastic idea.

He glanced over his head, checking the landing.
When he met Brendan’s gaze again, his lover’s dark

features contained an odd mixture of sexy and amused. “I’m

Charlie Richards

150

watching,” he assured. “Don’t worry. I’d never jeopardize
Toby in any way.”

After tugging his right hand free, Randy trailed his

fingertips over Brendan’s strong jaw. “I know. I trust you.”

Brendan’s expression softened. “Thank you.” His eyes

glittered and he pressed a soft, slow caressing kiss to
Randy’s lips. Once again lifting his head, he whispered,
“That’s why, when we lie down together, I’ll be on my
stomach. You’ll be on top of me.” Breaking eye contact,
Brendan leaned down and crooned, “You’ll pull out your
lube, slick up your fingers, and slide them down my crease.”

For a second, Randy felt as if he couldn’t get enough

oxygen in his lungs. He panted. His cock flexed. His balls
pulled tight.

Lifting his head again, Brendan whispered, “I want you to

make love to me, Randy.”

At Brendan’s words, Randy’s eyes widened. He shivered.

His cock oozed another pearl of pre-cum. The dampness of
the fabric increased the friction, the sensitivity. His balls
rolled in their sacks, forcing Randy to hiss through clenched
teeth for a second before he managed to mumble, “Oh, God,
yes. I’ll make you feel so good.”

Brendan gently stroked two fingers down Randy’s

jawline. The rasp of his callouses over his five o’clock
shadow sent tingles dancing across his skin. “I know you
will, my love.” Brendan leaned close again and purred into
his ear. “I can’t wait to feel you moving inside of me. When
we get tested, we’ll be able to feel each other for real, hot
flesh encased in hot flesh.” Brendan nipped Randy’s earlobe.
“Would you like that?”

Randy didn’t know if it was the feel of his lover against

him, the slow rut of his hips, driving the sensations higher
and higher with each grind, or Brendan’s words, indicating
his lover’s desire to commit in that way. Forcing his mouth

Three Point Tuck

151

to work, Randy turned his head so he could meet his lover’s
eyes as he murmured, “You’re the one I want for life, Bren.
You’re it for me.”

“I know,” Brendan whispered. “And you’ve got me…for

life.”

Randy bit his lip, forcing down his moan as his orgasm

blind-sided him. His body tensed, jerked, his cock flexing in
his boxers as he unloaded, dumping endorphins into his
system. Desperate for his lover to feel just as good, Randy
bucked, grinding his pulsing shaft against his lover’s. He
dug his fingernails into Brendan’s shoulders, clinging tightly
as he rolled his hips, humping mindless as pleasure
swamped him.

Brendan grunted. “Fuck,” he snarled. His body jerked as

he tucked his face against Randy’s and bit into the muscle of
his shoulder. Randy gasped at the pain, even as an extra shot
of ejaculate spurted from his cock.

Lying there, under his lover, Randy listened to Brendan’s

breathing rasp in his ear. He knew Toby lay overhead fast
asleep, and Randy couldn’t think of when he’d been happier.

“You gave me a life.” Brendan’s whispered words drew

Randy’s attention almost as much as the odd ache that
permeated his shoulder when his lover released his flesh.
Damn, he’d have to be sure his shirts covered that.

“And now,” Brendan continued, “I want to build a life

with you.” After a second, he added, “You and Toby.”

“That sounds perfect,” Randy replied, even as he gave his

lover a gentle push.

Brendan rose, grimacing—probably at the wetness that

Randy was certain filled his briefs. Grinning, Randy reached
out and threaded their fingers together. He gently kissed
Brendan’s knuckles, earning him that sexy, half-lidded smile
he loved so much. Randy grinned back and led the way
upstairs.

Charlie Richards

152

He paused at Toby’s door, pleased to discover he still

slept quietly, even after all the excitement of the day.

Then, Randy led Brendan to his room, and proceeded to

do everything his lover had asked him to do.

About the Author

Charlie started writing fantasy when she was eight, and after
stumbling onto her first erotic romance at age nineteen, she
realized her true calling. She now focuses on writing gay
erotic romance, normally of the paranormal variety, with
heroes of all kinds. With the help and support of her
husband, Charlie finally fulfilled one of her life-long
goals…move to acreage with her horses. You can often find
her curled up with her laptop and a cup of tea or glass of
wine, creating her next adventure. Charlie enjoys exploring
the mountains of her new Oregon home on horseback, 4-
wheeler, or motorcycle.

She can be reached at ch.richards2010@yahoo.com
Or visit her at www.charlie-richards.com

Document Outline

Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
About the Author

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