King (Executioners Book 3) Read online

  “Maybe I can crash with Melanie.”

  “You forget she’s a kicker?”

  He chuckled. “There is that. Mal sleeping with us?”

  “Of course, he’s still not used to sleeping in his own bed. I screwed up when I let him sleep with me since he was a baby.”

  He held onto Mal as he tried to get up, he started to fall back onto the couch, but the large, strong hand on his ass pushing him back up caused him to tense. His mind went blank, and he searched for anything to say, what had they been talking about? Yes, Mal, the baby was a safe subject.

  “He’ll develop some independence when he gets older.”

  King let out a heavy sigh. “I know, you two go to bed and I’ll get Melanie up.”

  “You should just carry her, once she’s asleep she’s done for.”

  “That was the plan. I don’t see how she does it.”

  He walked toward King’s bedroom, he entered and found the bed already turned down. He laid Mal down and went to King’s dresser to find something to sleep in. He had just pulled out pajama bottoms and a t-shirt when he heard King walk in.

  He glanced over his shoulder in time to catch King stripping down to red boxer briefs that hugged the curves of his muscular ass. King casually tossed his sweatpants into an overflowing hamper. He mentally made a note to take care of the laundry while King was away working next week.

  “I thought you’d be in bed already,” King said as he passed behind him and dropped a quick kiss to the side of his neck.

  He clenched the fabric in his hands and resisted the urge to moan.

  “I was just—” He cleared his throat. “Getting something to wear.”

  “Go get ready.”

  He turned to watch King get in bed and gather Mal to his chest. He leaned back against the dresser as he studied King and Mal. He shook his head. King could’ve had Mal on his own. He never saw much of Melanie in Mal. Where his sister was a blonde and blue-eyed, Mal had wavy black hair and green eyes, exactly like King.

  They were so cute together, and he loved them both so much. He knew one day King would find someone, as much of a player as King seemed that wasn’t the man he saw. He knew the amazing father and friend that King became, and he was proud of him.

  He didn’t want King to catch him standing there, so he headed to the bathroom to change. One day he’d have to let King and Mal go, but until then, he’d enjoy the time he had with them. He’d deal with the heartbreak later.

  Three

  Don’t Start, Melanie

  The sun barely started to illuminate his bedroom when he awoke. His son was spread out, arms and legs splayed in all directions, but he moved his attention from Mal to Linc who was asleep on the opposite side of the bed. So many years he’d wished to wake up like that, Linc beside him. When he’d suggested Linc sleep with him, he hadn’t expected the man to say yes. It had taken him forever to fall asleep because he had watched Linc.

  His mind wandered back to the day he had met Linc and where his guilt had begun.

  “Lincoln,” Melanie squealed as she pulled out of his arms and ran across the yard.

  He turned to see where she was going. Lincoln was his girlfriend’s brother. He let out a loud laugh as she launched herself at a chunky man.

  “Hey, short stuff, someone would think you missed me.”

  He flinched at what that deep, rough voice did to him. Even the deepness couldn’t hide the soft shyness of the man’s tone. He forced a smile when Melanie spun and wrapped her arm around the man. They approached, and he rubbed his sweaty palms on his denim covered thighs.

  “Andrew, this is my brother, Lincoln, Linc, this is my boyfriend, Andrew.”

  He hesitated as Lincoln extended his arm and offered his hand. He forced his hand not to shake as he took Lincoln’s. The man’s palm was covered with thick callouses, and his handshake was firm. A vision of having those hands on him formed in his mind, and he broke the contact.

  “Nice to meet you, Andrew, Melanie’s told me a lot about you over the years.”

  “You, too. Melanie told me you just moved home.”

  “Always my intention to do so, but I had to wait for a position to open.”

  “Come on, Lincoln. Mom and Dad have been waiting for you.”

  He gave the man a small smile and relaxed as Melanie and her brother disappeared inside. He attempted to take deep even breaths as he tried to calm himself. The man’s cologne lingered, and he closed his eyes, savored the scent. Guilt washed over him for his attraction, but what caused him the most pain was he couldn’t deny his urges.

  “Y’all three looks so cute together.”

  Melanie’s voice and the feel of her rounded chin resting on his bicep brought him back to the present.

  “Don’t start, Melanie.”

  “Come on, King, it’s not like I didn’t know.”

  When he started to roll from the bed, Melanie stepped back, and he got up to push her out of the room.

  “We talked about this.”

  “And I think I’ve told you a hundred times, if not more, that I don’t care if you’re in love with my brother.”

  He strode quickly to the kitchen to start the coffee. Melanie drank it but she made the worst coffee, always had. Ignoring Melanie was a no-go, the woman didn’t know how to mind her own business. So, they’d talked about it, and she didn’t seem to have a problem with his feelings for Lincoln; that didn’t mean he was altogether comfortable with them, especially since they developed before they’d divorced.

  “Quit being a fucking martyr. You were my best friend before you were my husband, but always gay. I’m sure there were other men you found attractive before and after Linc.”

  “Those were different. They weren’t Linc. He’s—”

  “Special? Then what the fuck is the problem? We’ve been co-parenting for three years. He’s pretty much your partner in every aspect but the sex one. It’s the sex isn’t it?”

  “Do we have to talk about this?”

  “Yes, because I’m tired of you beating yourself up for how you feel. When we divorced, we promised no more secrets between us. Our happiness is important to raising an emotionally healthy child. And do you want to end up like Bear?”

  “Don’t even start in on Bear. My uncle is fine.”

  “He’s after a woman who tried to knife him during a bar fight.”

  “It wasn’t a bar fight. Mary just wasn’t prepared when Bear came up behind her.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know that, but come on, he’s like some teenager with his first crush. You mention her name, and he turns bright red.”

  He was happy to turn the conversation to his uncle. The man had been a late in life surprise for his grandparents. There was only a ten-year difference in their ages. Bear had a thing for one of King’s friend’s mothers. It was kind of cute, to be honest. Mary had been severely abused and tortured by her first and only husband. It wasn’t going to be easy for Bear to get her to agree to a date; it was turning out to be damn near impossible.

  “We know what happened to her and Joker.”

  “I understand that, but is she ever going to be able to deal with your hyper-affectionate uncle. The man will hug anybody.”

  That was true. Bear was too nice to be single. The man would make someone the perfect partner, and he couldn’t remember the last time his uncle had a date. In some ways, he thought Bear was starved for attention, he was a huge bear, hence his nickname, of a man. Bear sometimes didn’t realize his own strength. The man wouldn’t hurt a fly, he was a florist for fuck’s sake, but sometimes in his enthusiasm, he’d sometimes forgot people had personal space.

  “I heard she actually might have said yes to a date or being his friend. I think he’d be happy with just about anything she offered. He thinks she’s adorable.”

  Melanie snorted, “He would. But don’t think I forgot about our conversation. What happens when he finds someone?”

  He reached into the cupboard to grab coffee mugs an
d gripped one a little too tightly at the thought of Linc with someone else—touching someone else or loving them.

  He ignored her as she turned to lean back against the counter beside him.

  “You should see your face. He’s a great guy. How long do you think he’s going to remain single? Helping us raise Malcolm? One day he’ll want a family of his own.”

  “He has a family, me and—”

  “Maybe he wants to be a dad instead of just an uncle.”

  He hated to admit she was right, but he couldn’t forget all the times Linc talked about having a husband and children. It was all a matter of time, and he didn’t know how he’d survive with the man he loved with someone else.

  “Maybe after being away this week, I’ll get someone to watch Mal, and take Linc out on a date.”

  “You going to tell him it’s a date or just hope he notices? You know Linc is oblivious when it comes to you. For a big, badass man, you’re sort of a wimp, never thought I’d see the day that the great and confident Andrew King would be terrified.”

  “You know how scared I was when I came out. I lost all my family except Bear.”

  “They were assholes.”

  He snorted as she hoisted herself onto the counter and leaned to the side to peer up at him.

  “At least your family doesn’t pretend that you never came out at all. They keep asking Linc when he’s going to meet a nice woman and have some kids.”

  In some ways he had it better, yes, his parents and siblings didn’t talk to him anymore, but at least he didn’t have to deal with the disrespect of being asked about a nice girlfriend or wife. Linc always came home from the visits almost in tears. The first few times he’d left Linc alone because he’d assumed that’s what the man wanted. When he caught Linc crying the first time, he’d hugged him, then held Linc while he sobbed.

  “Go wake your man up while I get breakfast started.”

  She turned him around, then kicked him in the ass to get him moving.

  “Snuggle with your man.”

  “You know, my ex-wife trying to push me at her brother is just weird.”

  “I was your best friend before your wife, now do as I say.”

  He rolled his eyes and strode from the kitchen, and he returned to his bedroom. He walked to Linc’s side of the bed and sat down on the edge, his hip pressed against Linc’s lower back. The man was everything he’d always wanted. He tensed as Linc turned over and Linc’s arm wrapped around his thighs.

  Linc’s sandy blond hair tempted him, so he raised his hand and ran it through the soft strands that were short but shaggy enough to tangle around his fingers. The man’s beard brushed his forearm, and Linc’s beard was just rough enough he started wondering what it would feel like against his skin. It wasn’t the first time. He’d spent a lot of time fantasizing about fucking Linc and being fucked by him. He’d never bottomed before, never had any urge to except with Linc.

  “What time is it?” Linc’s voice gruff.

  He nearly lost it as Linc’s bearded cheek rubbed against his bare thigh. Maybe he should’ve grabbed pants before waking Linc up.

  “Too early for a weekend, but your sister is making breakfast.”

  “Melanie didn’t make the coffee, did she?”

  “No, I did that.”

  “Thank you.”

  Linc’s full lips caressed his leg, and he rolled from bed like nothing happened.

  He pulled the covers back over Mal and focused on his son as Linc left the room. Mal was the best thing he’d ever done in life. He constantly worried about fucking up, but that wasn’t anything new. He lived in a loop of panic that he wouldn’t do right by his family.

  Sometimes that’s why he kept himself from letting Linc know how he felt about him. He loved the dynamic they’d created over the years. Would his confession ruin it all? He couldn’t live with that, but he also couldn’t go on like he was. Next weekend, he’d take Linc out like he’d told Melanie and take the leap. Knowing had to be better than this. He eased off the bed and went to the kitchen to join Melanie and Linc.

  Four

  King Was Acting Weird

  The last load of laundry was shoved into the washer, Linc measured in detergent and then closed the lid. Malcolm was tucked into bed. Dishes were done and put away. Melanie and King left that morning. King dropped Melanie back off at school and then headed off for a long run to Los Angeles.

  He hated when King drove that far. He knew King had been at his job for almost nine years. As far as he knew except for the time it took away from Malcolm, King loved his job. He glanced at the clock and found it was almost ten. King always called by then to say goodnight to Mal and talk to Linc for a while.

  He didn’t have anything else to do but wait for the clothes to finish. Walking through the house, he made sure everything was locked up and lights were turned off before he headed to King’s room.

  The bed was already turned down. He should sleep in his sister's room, but curling up in King's bed was his guilty pleasure. The closest he'd ever come to King. He went to King’s dresser and pulled out pajama bottoms. He changed and bent to pick up the discarded clothes as his phone started to ring. He strode to where his phone was plugged in on the nightstand on the right side of the bed.

  “Hello,” he answered without checking the caller ID.

  “Hey, sorry, pileup put me behind schedule.”

  King sounded tired.

  “It’s fine. I told Mal you were probably driving, and it wasn’t safe for you to call.”

  “Thanks, I hate not being able to call, but—”

  “The money is better for the over the road trips.”

  “Yeah. How was y’all’s day?”

  “Went to the school to pick up my schedule. Picked up the roster for tryouts and to see who’s returning this season. Mal came along with me, then we went to the park and had lunch. Then we came home to catch up on laundry.”

  “Honey, you don’t have to do the laundry.”

  Something happened to him when King used endearments. He’d never liked partners in the past who tried it, but with King, it felt right. It made him feel special because he’d been around King enough when the man was flirting to know he didn’t use them with anyone else.

  He smiled and shook his head, “When is it going to get done then?”

  “I would’ve done it when I got home.”

  “Then you’d have twice as much laundry…that you wouldn’t do.”

  King laughed. “Okay, you’ve got me there.”

  He turned and sat down on the edge of the bed, he lay back and stared up at the exposed beams of the ceiling. He loved King’s cabin. He still lived in the same apartment he’d rented when he moved back.

  “What are you doing? You got awful quiet.”

  “Nothing, lying on your bed and staring up at the ceiling. I need to find a house.”

  There was silence, and he pulled the phone away from his ear to check to make sure the call was still connected.

  “Why? I thought you liked your apartment.”

  “I like your house more.”

  “Move in.”

  “What?”

  “Move in. You spend more time there than at your place.”

  “I couldn’t do that.”

  “Just think about it. There’s the empty guest room.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Which is Linc-speak for no.”

  He had to admit he did spend more time there than he did at his place. He even had drawers and more than half of King’s closet, not that he wore any of it. Most times he grabbed King’s clothes to sleep in. A yes tripped on the tip of his tongue. Yes, he’d love to live there, but could he live with King and remain sane. It wasn’t a guarantee. He had wanted King for too long. When it seemed like he couldn’t resist telling King what he felt, he escaped back to his apartment with some excuse.

  “I had an idea.”

  “Oh, and what might that be?”

  “
You and me, dinner this weekend. Ben and Psycho said they’d keep Mal. He can play with Gunner and Rage.”

  “They have to stop calling Thomas Rage. He has two perfectly good names, Hendrix or Thomas. He won’t answer to his real name when it’s time to start school this fall.”

  Psycho worked as a bouncer at Brawlers and was married to Ben who owned a Bakery in town. Ben and Psycho co-parented Rage, Gunner, and Sawyer with Psycho’s ex-wife and her current wife. It was a weird little family, but it worked for them. He shouldn’t call it weird, he acted as a parent with Mal, along with Melanie and King. They’d done it for what seemed like forever.

  “You try telling Psycho that and Rage is a perfect name for the little terror.”

  “He’s not so bad, him and Gunner are like super sweet with Mal.”

  “They are. So what do you say, is it a date?”

  Date, he wished that word meant more than a figure of speech. He wanted a real date.

  “Sure.”

  “Great, so it’s a date.”

  His brows drew together at King’s emphasis on the last word. It had just hit him. King was acting weird. It wasn’t anything overt, the offer for him to move in, now, a night out for the two of them. Unless it was a gig at Brawlers, all their outings were with Mal.

  “Is there something you want to talk to me about?”

  “No, no, you take care of Mal most of the time, I thought it would be nice to take you out for dinner and whatever else you want to do.”

  “Okay.”

  “I better get going, I’ll call in the morning to talk to Mal.”

  “Goodnight, King.”

  “You too, baby.”

  The call ended, but he remained on the bed with his phone still pressed to his ear. King’s abrupt goodbye like a solid punch to the gut. They spoke for an hour and sometimes more, yet he didn’t get to grow sleepy with King’s gruff voice in his ear—King’s scent surrounding him.

  Excuses formed in his mind, King was sleepy, and it had turned into a long day for the man.

  He lifted his phone and stroked his fingertip across the screen, finding his sister’s number. He tapped the green call button. He bit his bottom lip as he waited for her to answer.