Chapter Three

 

He should be getting hazard pay or compensation for mental pain and suffering. Ken was going to owe him one for this. A big one.

When his date left their small table to find the harried waiter and order another round, Brady took advantage of the breather, rubbing his temples in an effort to both ease his tension headache and erase the images Calvin Grimes had been trying to tempt him with for the last hour.

To his credit, Cal had managed ten solid minutes of harmless small talk before he started making propositions. He told him about a timeshare he had in the Bahamas. Beautiful beaches, great weather…and wouldn’t Brady like to join him for a private weekend? No pressure. Brady had turned him down gently, reminding him of his red hair and his family’s tendency to boil like lobsters in the sun.

Cal was gracious, moving on to a molecular gastronomy event he’d been invited to in Washington. He wanted to take Brady so they could drink coffee air while eating deconstructed meatloaf with well-connected socialites. They’d have to share a suite at the hotel, of course, but Brady would have his own bed if he chose to use it. With as much calm as he could muster, Brady declined, lying about a sensitive stomach and busy schedule.

Cal’s determination to get in his pants was unsettling. It made him feel like a piece of meat, or the last task in a high stakes scavenger hunt.

Grimes was everything he’d seemed. A climber. A big talker and a status junkie. He’d been Stephen’s assistant, but in between his not-remotely-subtle advances, Brady learned he’d recently branched out into consulting. Opposition research for select political clients who were desperate for ammunition against their competitors.

It was a sleazy job but, according to Cal, it paid well. He’d made sure Brady knew how well at least twice in the conversation. But despite his attempts to impress, so far all his invitations were having the opposite effect. He should have done more research before the date.

Brady reminded himself why he was doing this. Ken hadn’t told him everything, but it had been enough. Some poor sucker had gotten caught up in a bad relationship with an influential man and fallen off the grid. It was Ken’s job to find him, and he admitted that he’d expected it to be easy. He’d been wrong. He was still looking six months later.

Freelancing for the feds on the Burke case had been his chance to scan the blackmailer’s private files. Ken knew Burke kept dossiers on powerful men and their weaknesses and he was hoping to find more information on a particular investor he considered his prime suspect. He’d found more than he’d bargained for.

It had taken a few months for Ken to sift through the data that connected his suspect to a group of powerful, practically untouchable men. Burke’s notes on them contained their questionable habits, some cryptic words and phrases he couldn’t understand, and a record of the few sloppy hotel room incidents with escorts Burke had managed to sweep under the rug in return for favors and insider information. Most of the men in this group were nicknamed according to their perversion, but one or two real names had been written down. Sadly, the names didn’t lead to anything helpful. Each one was so good at covering their tracks that Ken, with all his talent, hadn’t been able to hack them yet. From their firewalls and snares, he believed there had to be guys like him on the payroll to make sure of it.

But Ken didn’t give up. He’d been using a new program to find another way in when luck led him to one loose link in the chain. It was a fairly recent outside connection that wasn’t in Burke’s notes and no one had taken the time to conceal—Calvin Grimes.

Apparently Cal didn’t just offer his services to senators. Brady wasn’t sure what he did for these men, but Ken said it didn’t matter. Their job consisted of finding and retrieving a single man, not taking down a Cabal. Dating Cal was a fishing expedition. And Brady was the only bait for the job.

“Finn, I can hear you frowning. You’re on a date. It’s a bad date, I admit it, but I never promised you a love match. You have to give him something to work with. Pretend to find him interesting.”

Brady grimaced. Think of the devil and he talks in your ear.

Ken wasn’t helping the situation at all. He’d been listening in on every moment of this travesty, distracting Brady with his sultry voice and provocative comments. It made him wish he could see him, wish that Ken was the one across the table.

“We can switch places,” Brady offered. “You two have more in common anyway. You like nice things, money, fancy food—”

“Giant sexy gingers with repressed but explosive sexual energy just begging to be tapped,” Ken interrupted smoothly.

“No one’s doing any tapping.”

“Not for lack of trying. He’s practically bending over with a Ride Me sign on his ass and he hasn’t even seen you naked. I suppose we have to be thankful for small favors. If he knew what those jeans of yours were working overtime to conceal, he’d be useless.”

Brady was glad Ken couldn’t see his face. He hated blushing. “You know and you seem to be doing fine.”

“I have better self-control. It comes from the years of training you don’t like me to talk about. Believe me, if I didn’t have it, I’d be the one bending over that table and begging.”

Brady huffed out a nervous laugh, sliding forward to hide his erection from the crowded bar. “I can’t see you begging, Master Tanaka.”

Not outside of my fantasies

“The night is young. Wait until we get home.”

Cal appeared beside the table, water and one martini in his hands. “You look flushed, Brady. Is it too crowded in here?”

“No.” Brady took the water and drank it gratefully. Ken’s words had turned up the heat and made it difficult to concentrate. “I needed this. I must still be a little hung over. I don’t think I’ll be drinking again anytime soon.”

“That’s not why you’re blushing.” Ken sounded smug.

Cal sat down and smiled, reaching out to cover Brady’s hand where it lay on the table. Brady fought against his instincts and kept it there. “I understand. I should have waited to take you out, but once I get an idea in my head I’m like a dog with a bone.”

Ken snorted. “Or a terrier with a boner.”

“Stop,” Brady demanded. Realizing Cal thought he was talking to him, he hurried to add, “I mean, there’s no need to apologize. Though I was surprised when you called.”

“Why?”

“Well, I wasn’t that fun to be around at the office, and you have to admit we don’t have much in common.”

“Good recovery.”

Cal’s smile widened and Brady could practically see the wheels turning and the calculation in his eyes. “I get it. I think I understand what’s been off between us.”

That I don’t like you?

“You’re right. In many ways we’re different people. Opposites.” Cal sent him an endearing smile, his brown hair swooping down to cover one brown eye in a way that reminded Brady his date wasn’t unattractive. “You’re a veteran of the police force and our country’s military. You don’t have to make deals or soothe ruffled feathers. You don’t have to impress anyone and you probably don’t understand why other people do. People who have to make their living at it, like I do.”

Ken chuckled. “He’s aiming for humble and insightful now. A true sign of desperation.”

“I’m not planning on staying in that position long, mind you, but my career goals aren’t the issue here. The issue is we’re both just people who want something more than we have. Someone who could belong to us.” Cal sent him a look of admiration. “What you said in that video really spoke to me, Brady. Your cousin Owen should appreciate what he has.”

“Oh he does,” Brady assured him. “He’s been going through a rough patch with the transition, that’s all. It’s understandable.”

Cal shrugged. “I suppose. I’ve been out of the closet since before I got my first paper route so I have to admit, when Stephen told me about his straight brother finding love and playing house with a talented man like Jeremy Porter, I was dubious. I mean just imagining that alpha male construction worker, who never met a woman he couldn’t bang, deciding to experiment on a whim…” Cal shook his head, bemused. “It doesn’t seem fair that he made zero effort and still got to take home the grand prize.”

“Oh hell,” Ken groaned through the earpiece. “You’re going to hit him, aren’t you?”

Brady frowned dangerously, his need to defend his cousin making him forget himself, but Cal quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry, I spoke without thinking. And I’m not saying I’m not happy for two people in love. I am. But I’m human too and humans are inherently selfish creatures. I was thinking about me. Thinking about wanting what Owen and Jeremy have, just like you do.”

Once he’d forced down his cutting response and taken a calming breath, Brady didn’t have to lie. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what that felt like. Last night I—I shouldn’t have said anything to Owen. I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t drunk, because I’ve lived with those two and seen how good they are together day in and day out. What they have is pretty damn rare.”

And it had been decades in the making. Owen and Jeremy had been best friends since their school days and knew each other better than anyone else ever could. When they’d added sex and romance to the mix, it just made it that much sweeter.

Brady didn’t know anyone that well. He and his brothers had been raised more like a sports team or a military unit, with a firm hand and a short leash. Brady never had the opportunity to form relationships, outside of family, that he could trust. Not until he enlisted, and by then he was set in his ways. He would die for any of the men he fought beside, but he hesitated when it came to giving his heart.

And now? After all the things he’d seen and done, he just wasn’t sure that kind of love was ever going to be in the cards for him. But he couldn’t pretend he didn’t want it to be.

“My parents love each other like that,” Cal offered, looking nervous and desperate to get out of what he’d stepped in. “They’ve been in love since middle school. Never had a moment’s doubt that they were meant for each other, or that their child would be the first gay president. They wanted me to make my mark on the world. Unfortunately I shattered that last dream when I told them I’d never campaign for an eight-year temp job as a human piñata. There are other ways to power, and those ways include large amounts of cash and less bad press.”

Brady relaxed at the change to a safer, less sexually objectifying and insulting subject. “It’s always nice to hear about two people sticking it out that long. Stephen’s parents are the same. Ellen said she knew the minute he took her hand that he was the one. They’ve been together close to forty years and they still act like lovesick teenagers.”

“Yes, I know, Stephen Finn has the perfect family bio for political campaigns.” Cal narrowed his brown eyes on Brady. “His parents…but not yours?”

Brady tensed and sent him a look of disbelief. “I think you already know the answer to that, Mr. Oppo Research.”

Cal looked uncomfortable. “You’re a Finn and the senator’s cousin, of course I know. I just didn’t want you to think I investigate my dates as a rule. Besides, I’d rather hear your take on it.”

“So would I,” Ken murmured close to his mic. “But you don’t share your secrets unless you’re rum-drunk.”

Brady slid his hand away from Cal’s and took another drink of water. “My take isn’t that much different from what’s on paper.”

“I doubt that. Your father raising six boys on his own while working as the Chief of police? It sounds like you’d have a lot of stories.”

Brady sent Cal a look that made him squirm. “Solomon the Elder had a knack for keeping men in line. He wasn’t that good at keeping women happy. Nobody’s perfect.”

Three wives had proven that, though no one could say he hadn’t done the right thing by them. Six months after Uncle Shawn married Ellen, Sol had found himself the groom in a genuine shotgun wedding, complete with a pregnant, crying bride and angry father-in-law. Donna had given birth to Solomon Jr. and James, and then she had second thoughts about her husband. She’d tried to take the boys when she left but Sol wouldn’t stand for it. The Finn name was his to protect after his father and grandfather had done their best to ruin it. The boys were Finns and they would grow up knowing the value of that name. That was all that mattered.

Not too long after that, a statuesque pageant winner with auburn hair and perfect pedigree had gotten to ride in a parade car with the divorced but still dashing officer. When Rose became pregnant, her parents threatened to disown her if she married Sol, which of course had sent her straight into his arms. She’d been young and sweet and in no way ready to become an instant housewife to a distant man or the mother of three wild toddlers. Sol had had a meeting with her parents and their lawyer and come to an arrangement.

“Your mother… She signed away her visitation rights and moved to Paris, right? That must have been hard.”

Wishing Cal would start talking about his timeshare again, Brady sent him a look of warning. “Not on me. I was too young to remember.”

“Brady.” Ken’s voice was like a tender kiss. “Are you okay?”

It was an old ache, knowing she’d let her parents agree to give Sol full custody in exchange for a quickie divorce. But his mother hadn’t disappeared from his life entirely. When Brady was old enough, she’d started writing to him once a week, posing as a pen pal so Sol wouldn’t forbid the communication. Each letter had been warm and loving and full of all the laughter his regimented house was lacking. He’d lived for those letters. A few years ago, after she died, he’d found out she’d left him not only the healthy inheritance he’d been living off of since he got out of the service, but also her home in Paris. He’d never been to see it, and he hadn’t told Sol about it either. The old man hadn’t even let her send Christmas presents, so Brady could only imagine how he would react if he knew about the house. It wasn’t something he was ready to face.

“The third wife lasted longer, though.” Was Cal trying to lighten the mood? Why wouldn’t he let this go? “The last three boys are all hers, right? And they might have stayed together if she hadn’t…”

Wyatt and Noah’s mom had died from complications while giving birth to Rory. But she wouldn’t have lasted either. Laney had handed Sol divorce papers a few hours before she went into labor. Brady was six at the time, but he still remembered the shouting match they’d had that day.

“I’m not her. Stop comparing me to her!”

He looked at Cal’s wide eyes and shook his head ruefully. “Look, this is a little personal, Calvin. I know I didn’t give you much choice since I suck at small talk. I’m sorry. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Don’t be sorry, please. I was the one prying. I’m eager to know everything there is to know about you.” Cal definitely sounded eager. “My work is full of small talk, socially acceptable topics and twisted truths. I want all the messy details on Brady Finn. Like, why would you decide to stay at your cousin’s house instead of going back to your family home? Why haven’t you gone back to your old job on the force? What happened to you overseas that seems to make you so sad when you think no one’s looking? I have to know the real you.”

He already seemed to know one hell of a lot.

It’s a job, Brady. Focus on the job and tighten up. He left you an opening.

He forced a flattered smile. “Well, the real me sounds like a winner, doesn’t he? Maybe someone you could grab a drink with, I suppose. Or a little something on the side at a timeshare? But you just proved my point, Cal. No matter how much we might like it to be otherwise, there’s no way I’d fit in your life or the circles you travel in. No way your impressive friends would think I was good enough.”

“Perfect, Finn,” Ken crooned. “And you said you wouldn’t be good at this.”

The expression that crossed Cal’s face was surprising in its intensity. “You’ll fit because I want you to. And I think I’ve made it pretty clear that you are what I want. I knew it the first time I saw you.”

“You did?” He wasn’t sure how else to respond.

“I did. I won’t lie to you. I think it’s obvious what’s been on my mind all night. Not taking you out to my car and getting in your pants has been a true show of willpower on my part.”

“And intelligence,” Ken muttered to no one in particular.

“I’m not…ready for that,” Brady offered, looking down as if he were uncomfortable. Which he was. “I need to get to know a man a little better before I go there.”

Cal narrowed his eyes. “That’s why we’re here. Look at that blush. I didn’t know a big Marine like you would blush like that. Do you not know how many men are watching you right now, undressing you with their eyes? I’m the envy of all of them. It would be that way everywhere we went. Especially those social circles you’re worried about. They wouldn’t care what you said or how you dressed; one look and all they’d be able to think about was getting you naked and what they could do to you when you were. But they wouldn’t dare try. Not if you were mine.”

Brady was definitely turning red now, though he was more insulted and embarrassed than flattered. Cal was more aggressive than he’d imagined. He made himself shrug it off, wondering how much longer this had to go on. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what they’d be thinking.”

“No?”

He forced a self-conscious laugh. “I’m a big guy with bright red hair. I’ve got two left feet and I don’t like crowds. I stick out like a sore thumb.”

Cal licked his lips. “You are definitely big, but believe me, that’s not a drawback. I want you on my arm. Want to show you off. I honestly can’t believe no one has chained you to their bed yet. That you’re available. Were available,” he corrected with a sly smile.

“Wow. That’s really…nice. I mean, that you want to go out again.” Ken couldn’t say he wasn’t trying to be polite. All Brady had to do now was not grab the back of Cal’s head and slam it into the table. If he could keep that instinct in check, they’d be fine.

“We’ll be going out again, Brady,” Cal assured him. “But the night’s not over yet. Let’s see where it takes us.”

Ken swore in Brady’s earpiece, making him flinch. “Excuse yourself and go to the restrooms. Now.”

Brady stood abruptly, unable to resist that tone of command. “I’m—I’ll be back in a minute.”

Cal’s smile was cocky and determined. “You look flushed again. I’ll get you more water.”

Men were definitely sizing him up as he pushed his way through the crowd at Tango’s. Maybe they thought he looked familiar. Most of them had probably dated his brother. Rory had once told Brady he came to Tango’s when he wasn’t in the mood for a challenge.

Brady sighed. Rory was going to get himself in trouble one day with his preference for straight men. If there were four men in a room and three of them were handsome, available and gay, Rory would focus on the angst-ridden heterosexual with girl troubles every time. He’d get him too. At least long enough to prove to himself that he could.

His baby brother had been the only one who wasn’t surprised when Owen moved in with Jeremy. “Owen was never satisfied, no matter how many women he went through. And he spent all his free time at Jeremy’s house. There were a million clues.”

“I didn’t see it.” His brother James had shaken his head. “Honestly, I thought he might have had a sex addiction, like the guy on that cable show. Seamus thought the same thing.”

“I didn’t care yesterday and I don’t care today.” Solomon frowned at his younger brothers. “He’s family and he’s happy. Move on.”

Wyatt shrugged. “You may not care, but I’m fascinated. I thought the Quarterback was one hundred percent straight. Jeremy must be truly talented.”

“No man is one hundred percent straight,” Rory informed his brothers. “That’s a fact.”

“That’s your dream, Rory,” Noah had laughed. “Stop projecting.”

“That’s my reality. I’m just waiting for everyone else to catch up.”

Pushing open the bathroom door, Brady shared a quick, awkward glance with a bearded hipster in a bow tie washing his hands. Then he looked at himself in the mirror. He could use a little of Rory’s confidence about now. This was the first job he’d ever had that was all about being attractive—in this case specifically to Cal Grimes. It was disconcerting, and it made him think about himself in an entirely new and uncomfortable way.

He genuinely didn’t get Cal’s interest—well, except for the physical desire, but he was working a lot harder than he had to if sex was all he wanted. Cal wasn’t bad to look at and he had a good job. Half the bar would probably be up for a quickie in the parking lot if he asked them.

But he’d set his sights on Brady, who didn’t mingle, didn’t enjoy talking politics, and who’d rather grab a cheeseburger and watch a baseball game than dress up to eat a plate of nothing that cost more than his monthly bills. What was it the lusty Cal saw that he liked?

Whatever it is, Ken sees it too.

Brady took a closer look. He had blues eyes, the same as pretty much everyone in his family. He’d gotten the auburn hair from his mother, a strong jawline from Sol, and his maternal grandfather had given him his oversized build. He had a harder look than his younger brothers, but when he laughed he sounded just like Noah.

It was strange, but that was always how he’d seen himself—as pieces of other people. A Finn. One of Sol’s boys. A Marine. But now he was trying to see himself without them. To see himself through another man’s eyes. Just Brady. He still didn’t think he was handsome in the ordinary sense, but he supposed he wasn’t bad for bait. His reflection sent him a rueful grin.

Anyway, he supposed as long as Cal liked his looks and got him in front of the people they were looking for before spiking his drink and dragging him to bed, he was doing the job Ken needed.

He’d much rather be doing something else. Someone else. He tapped his tiny earpiece impatiently when bowtie guy walked back out into the bar. Why had Ken sent him to the bathroom?

A stall opened and Brady swore in surprise when Ken dragged him in and closed and locked the door behind him. “What the fuck? I thought you were listening from the coffee shop across the street.”

“Don’t talk,” Ken ordered in a harsh whisper. “We won’t be alone for long and I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m ok—” Talented lips stole his breath, opening his mouth so Ken’s tongue could tangle with Brady’s. God, yes. Too long. How had he stayed away so long?

He leaned back against the door when he felt his knees weaken, and Ken followed, his fingers digging into Brady’s scalp and pulling his head down for more.

More. He would never get enough of Ken’s mouth. He wanted it on him everywhere. His hands curved around the cheeks of Ken’s firm ass and squeezed, dragging him closer.

More.

Ken lifted his mouth enough to bite down sharply on Brady’s lower lip. A rumbling growl escaped his throat and Ken smiled. “There he is. There’s my beast. That little weasel doesn’t get to touch you.”

“Never,” Brady growled again.

Ken’s hand pressed between their bodies and Brady felt him undoing the buttons of his jeans. “Tanaka…”

“Finn,” Ken echoed teasingly. “Just a taste, that’s all. To keep you on your toes and clear all that flattery out of your head.”

Strong, graceful fingers wrapped around his hard shaft and he moaned raggedly. “Here? In the fucking men’s room of a gay bar?”

Ken snorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before. Never met a sexy stranger in a bar and ended up just like this, getting hard on the idea that someone could walk in and hear your greedy moans.”

“Never,” Brady moaned.

Ken’s gaze narrowed in surprise, his fingers tightening around Brady’s erection as he let out a shaky breath. “You’re kidding me. What are you, a boy scout? How can you have a body like this and not want to use it?” Ken stroked him once and licked his lips when Brady gasped. “Your body needs to be used. This hard cock is begging for it. No wonder he wants it.”

“We made this date because he does,” Brady reminded him, panting. “You told me to say yes.”

Ken stroked his erection again and Brady’s hips pumped forward helplessly. “Yes to drinks and getting information. Yes to another date where you might be introduced to his special friends. But you can’t let him think he’ll be getting this. Tonight or any other night.”

“Dating isn’t a skill I trained for, Tanaka. I’m—oh fuck—I’m doing the best I can.”

“Stop. He can’t handle it and I don’t want to lose our only contact by breaking his arms when he tries to touch you.”

Brady snarled and in two lightning-fast moves had Ken’s cheek pressed against the stall door and his erection pressed firmly against his back. “You think you can handle me?”

Ken’s moan was shameless. “You know I can. And you already know how good it feels.”

Brady counted to ten and prayed for control. Then he counted a little more, unable to stop thinking about Ken sucking his cock in the bathroom. He wanted it. Was desperate for it. But they couldn’t. “I have to go back out there and finish this date. And even though he treats me like a prostitute who wants to go legit and star in a porno, I’m not going to prove him right and get off in a public restroom while he pays for my drinks. I’m not that guy.”

“You’re having water.”

“Not the point.” Brady rocked against him once. Twice. “We can’t do this, Tanaka, and you know it. I’m on the job you asked me to do. Just the job. That’s it. That’s all this is.” He moved away with a wince and looked down at his steel-hard erection. “Now I have to think about deconstructed meatloaf so I can button my jeans back up. I think we can both agree that the last thing I need is Cal Grimes believing he turns me on. And then I have to find a way to introduce my favorite topic into the conversation, because of course part of the job is to make him think I could be interested in kink, since Burke’s notes were painfully clear on that point.”

He forced himself back into his pants and swore. “This might be the worst date I could ever imagine pretending to be on. I’m so glad I took this job.”

“Brady?” Ken sounded thoughtful.

“What?” Despite everything he’d just said, if Ken asked to touch him again, Brady would give in.

“He knows you were at Burke’s party before the arrest. Stephen got a lot of credit for that, so you need to prove you’re serious about your interest. Just tell him you were too overwhelmed to know anything else was going on. Tell him you never thought you would like kink until you saw a demonstration that intrigued you. Tell him you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since then. That you want it, but you’re afraid of wanting it at the same time because it’s either too dangerous, or the fantasy will end up being better than the reality.”

Brady stepped away and studied Ken’s profile. He might as well have been reading his mind because he’d just described Brady’s feelings—not about kink—about Ken. “That sounds good. Thanks.”

He adjusted his clothes as best as he could and reached around Ken to open the door. “Are you going to stick around in case I actually do get roofied?”

Ken looked into his eyes and Brady swore his damn heart stuttered. “I’m not going anywhere, Finn. We’re a team.”