Chance of the Heart (6 page)

“You’re sure?” she asked. “You need the night off?”

“No, no!” He was probably a little too emphatic if her look of surprise was any indication. He didn’t need the night off. He didn’t need any more time to himself. His brain wouldn’t shut up. Sometimes it said he was dumb for having left Bradley that morning. Sometimes it said he was a fool for having ever been there.

“Okay. Well, let’s try out this recipe. We have enough supplies to make sure we can get it right before we do the final roll out this weekend.”

“Awesome,” he said. He went to the long island counter in the center of the kitchen and started on peeling and cutting. He lost himself in the work, concentrating on ways he might flavor the dish differently, ways he could change the sauce to make it more flavorful, dishes that might be complemented by the appetizer.

The smells of everything coming together, and Heather’s humming to herself as she worked all relaxed him. He was in his element in a way he never quite was at his daddy’s ranch. Something that made him feel guilty. He loved his parents, loved being with the horses, and enjoyed the hard work. But he felt like that was more a hobby. His parents were right, though: cooking would never be practical as something to do to make a living. Heather could do it because she came from money, and her husband, being an attorney also raked it in. Chance had to do something that would provide for a family.

“You’re gonna turn that sauce into a meringue if you beat it any harder, Chance,” Heather said from behind him, yanking him from his thoughts. Damn. Even the cooking hadn’t helped him clear his head as much as it usually did.

“I’m gonna ask you again, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He poured the finished sauce in ramekins, taking a moment to school his face before turning to her. “Yes, ma’am. Like I said, just a lot on my mind.”

“Do you need some counsel?” she asked.

“Lord, no,” he said. The last thing he needed to do was talk to one of the counselors on the compound about what he’d done with Reverend Heart’s son.

She snickered. “I meant like a secular counselor. You don’t really seem to be involved enough in the church to seem interested in one of Daddy’s people.”

“Oh, I’m involved. I…”

“Calm down, sweetheart. I didn’t mean that as a dig. I just know sometimes we want… outside counsel.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anybody, but I’ve been going to a therapist in Austin once a month for years now.”

Chance felt his brows go up almost into his hairline. She laughed again. “This church is Daddy’s life blood, but I told him long ago: I’ll attend but it’ll never be my calling. It’s also not going to be my first place to look when I need help dealing with the stresses of life.” She waved off his raised eyebrow. “Of course, I find fulfillment in my religion, but I think God gave those therapists their degrees for a reason.”

He squirmed a little. He didn’t particularly like talking religion. She took the hint though and with an eye roll she went over to the large fryers and lifted the eggplant fries from the oil, putting portions on a few different plates.

“Who’s taste testing today?”

“Good question,” she said. She looked around thoughtfully. “Oh! I know. Put those out on the tables in the dining area please. Try to keep it closer to the kitchen, away from all that dang construction. I’ll be right back.” She flitted out the swinging kitchen door in a flash of long blonde hair and jingling bangle bracelets.

He smiled fondly as he stacked the plates up his arm. After placing them on the table, he returned to the kitchen for the ramekins of sauce. He’d just finished plating everything and putting out glasses and pitchers of iced tea and water when he heard Heather’s voice accompanied by the tittering of others. He turned to smile at whoever she’d found to be their guinea pigs, but his smile faltered when he saw that following on Heather’s heels; laughing, care free, and looking beautiful, achingly perfectly beautiful, was Bradley.

When their eyes met, Bradley’s own smile faltered briefly, but he recovered quickly. When they approached, Chance blurted out, “What’re you doing here?”

Heather frowned. “Oh, I guess I forgot to mention my brother started working here this week.” Her eyes narrowed, sizing him up as he looked between her and Bradley. Unfortunately, it seemed to dawn on her exactly what might have gone on between the two of them.

“It’s good to see you, again,” Bradley said, affecting that cocky air he’d had when trying—and succeeding—to get into Chance’s Wranglers. Bradley’s lips thinned and he gave a nod, encouraging Chance with his eyes to get his shit together. But it was definitely too late.

“Y-you too.” He turned to the others. “Hope y’all enjoy the food.” He did his damnedest to make his smile genuine, but he was still just a little too shocked. How had he not known Bradley was back in town?

If you’d talked to him maybe that’d have helped, idjit.
Of course he would’ve had to stick around that morning long enough to actually get the guy’s phone number. Or more embarrassingly, he’d have had to manned up and asked Heather. But he’d been determined to put that behind him. It’d been an experiment. Of course it’d be great to have Bradley back, they’d been good enough friends for kids with their age difference, but now knowing Bradley was gay made him too much a temptation.

Heather’s put-upon sigh and Bradley’s own fake smile had Chance seeking refuge in the kitchen. Maybe it was best he cut out before she came in asking questions. She usually handled this part herself anyways. Dear lord, her brother could answer the questions.

And there again was Chance Becket being a coward. He didn’t like the feeling. But he’d been thrown for a loop and he was in no place right now to play catch up.

Even more overwhelming than the need to not answer Heather’s questions, though, was his need to wrap Bradley up in a hug and say how often he’d thought of him the last few weeks.

So much for getting it out of your system.

Can’t leave well enough alone, can you?
Bradley had been fussing at himself, pacing in front of his Jeep for at least ten minutes.
This is probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.
He’d already been eyed funny by a ranch hand. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t know what had possessed him to show up at Chance’s house. He’d found out that Chance lived in the apartment above the massive garage on his parents’ ranch.

He had no idea what he was doing there. Hell, he only knew he’d had Chance on his mind since he’d seen him at Bar None. For a casual fuck, the guy and his body were sure stuck under Bradley’s skin and he was doing the one thing he’d always tried his damnedest not to do—make an ass of himself for a man.

“At his parents’ ranch, you dumbass,” he scolded himself, casting a glance at the big house, which had been renovated since he’d last seen it during his last year of high school. Seemed the whole ranch had gotten a facelift over the last few years. Shiny new paint everywhere, and the garage apartment was definitely new. Looked like they had a new barn, too.

He’d finally decided he should get the fuck out of there before Chance’s parents decided to come see what the hell he wanted. Of course no one knew he was gay. His father had wanted to keep that under wraps. But out or not, he’d still seem like a big freak waiting around for their son when they’d seen neither hide nor hair of Bradley in six years.

Hell, even Heather had told him this was a bad idea. Oh, it’d been hard for her not to catch the significance of the first time they laid eyes on each other. Chance was as subtle as that iceberg had been when the Titanic hit it. If someone—like Heather—knew the score, it took less than a half second to figure out that something had happened between them. Of course, afterwards Heather said she’d noticed Chance had seemed weird the lately, so it had been the last thing she’d considered when she saw them together, but it’d made sense once Chance had split.

And that’s why Bradley was sitting in front of Chance’s house now. Yeah, she’d warned him that even if Chance wasn’t still with Caitlin—which she was fairly certain he was—he wasn’t out. Bradley knew that, of course. But he wanted to apologize for just dropping in Chance’s lap and not warning him he was coming back to town. He’d also been strangely concerned about how distressed Heather mentioned Chance seemed lately. He’d hate it if he’d caused that. He knew Chance said that night was on him, but Bradley still worried he’d pushed too hard.

You couldn’t have caught him somewhere else, though?
Okay, it was really time to go. Now. Chance would probably flip if he showed up to see Bradley playing stalker.

He’d opened the door to his Jeep still scolding himself, when he heard his name called from behind him. He turned to see Chance walking up from the direction of the barn removing a pair of gloves, a collie dog yipping at his heels. “What’re you doing here?” Chance seemed genuinely confused but not angry, thank goodness. The dog barked a couple times at Bradley, earning it a
shush
from Chance.

Bradley stood in a stupor for a moment, staring at the man. He was damn fine in a tight fitting black T-shirt that looked soft like the man who wore it. The dichotomy of the man being solid muscle but still soft, looking like a brick shithouse but gentle at the same time was ridiculously appealing. Chance pushed his black Stetson up a bit so he could raise a brow at Bradley.

Bradley shook himself out of his embarrassing trance. “I don’t know. It was me being ridiculous. I was just leaving.” He gestured with his thumb toward his open driver side door. Chance studied him silently for a moment.

“Did you… want to talk?” Chance nodded his head toward his apartment. “I’m assuming that’s why you’d drive all the way out here.” His expression was unreadable.

Bradley almost declined, insisting it could wait. He felt ridiculous enough for having shown up unannounced to a guy who’d made it clear he was not coming out of the closet and who also considered what they’d done a one-night stand.

But hadn’t he, too? He’d seen Chance Becket and thought that’d be a helluva one-night stand to shake out the cobwebs after Carson. Fucking Carson.

“Sure,” he heard himself say. Another unreadable look from Chance, then they were walking up the stairs to the apartment. When they walked in, Bradley was surprised at just how tidy the space was. The loft apartment was nicer than those some of his friends’ rented in damn good neighborhoods in Dallas. The hardwood floors shone bright, recently polished. Walls a pristine white, all the furniture was new, tan suede and mocha colored wood. The looks all together combined for a country home chic, complemented by a wall of picture windows that overlooked hilly green pastures.

“This is nice,” he said. He looked out, enjoying the great view of horses galloping together against the colorful backdrop. He’d always loved how green their part of Texas was, as opposed to the dusty almost-deserts an hour to the west and south.

He turned back to tell Chance as much, and damn. Their gazes met and that ridiculous, off the charts chemistry just zapped right through him. It’d been the same when they were teenagers but now that he’d actually had the man... he ached for him.

Chance stood, stoic at first then his eyes gave away a smoldering fire, a hunger. “At least I’m not the only one who feels it,” Bradley said, sorrowful longing in his voice. A man of action rather than words, Chance seemed to break, come completely undone as he let out a sound, half sob, and half groan. Then with two large strides he was on Bradley. At first it was a clinging, desperate hug with kisses pecked up the side of Bradley’s neck, his Stetson getting bumped and falling to the floor. There was a hint of grief to the way Chance shook and clung to Bradley. Bradley couldn’t deny the man his comfort.

Bradley put both hands on the side of Chance’s face and kissed him. First the kiss was sweet, then tongues got involved. Chance tasted better than Bradley remembered. There was a hint of bitter coffee and a touch of peppermint, but the rest was all Chance. He even smelled amazing: fresh like the outdoors and slightly sweaty. Bradley knew this was a train wreck waiting to happen, but he was intoxicated by this man.

They broke from their kisses and rested their foreheads together, panting heavily. Chance was all hands, unbuttoning Bradley’s jeans, pulling their cocks out. Bradley stared at the intense look of concentration that played over Chance’s face as he took them both in hand and stroked. The man was stunning, with prominent cheek bones and a defined jaw. He was almost exotic with his dark hair and olive skin. But those blue eyes. They looked pale as ice one moment, dark as night the next. Now they were the latter.

Chance dropped his head onto Bradley’s shoulder as they thrust together. “Chance, baby, so good at that,” Bradley said. His voice was raspy, heavy with lust. He used one of his own hands to roll their balls together, earning a grunt from Chance. Chance came up for a kiss then, and it was the sexiest, sloppiest kiss Bradley could remember. Their tongues danced together in their mouths as they grunted and rutted together in the grip of both Chance’s hands.

Bradley gripped Chance’s ass with his other hand and ran his finger down Chance’s crack until his found Chance’s entrance. Chance pushed back and mewled so sexily. That sent Bradley to his knees. Literally. He took only a moment to marvel at the sight of Chance’s perfect cock, which jutted from a trimmed patch of dark pubes. He bit Chance’s hip bone then licked a line down before sucking Chance deep.

“Damn, that’s it.” Chance groaned, thrusting his hips. Bradley hummed in pleasure at the earthy taste of the man, loving the heavy thickness on his tongue. Chance was more than a mouthful and Bradley reveled in every moment of bobbing up and down on the man’s shaft. But he so badly wanted to taste Chance’s balls.

He pulled off and looked up into Chance’s lust filled, half-lidded eyes before sucking each ball in and suckling gently before rolling his tongue around them in figure eights as he stroked Chance’s spit-slicked shaft, paying careful attention to the head with swift circular motions.

Chance took his cock and pointed it at Bradley’s mouth. “C’mon. Suck it, Bradley.” That assertiveness sent shivers all through Bradley’s body. He especially liked that Chance was staring at him like that, and that he’d called him by name. He was totally here in the moment. With Bradley.

Bradley did as Chance said and he sucked, using one hand to stroke and the other to fondle Chance’s heavy balls. Chance moaned his satisfaction. “You’re so good at this.”

Their eyes met again as Bradley used a finger to stroke Chance’s hole. And that did it. With a hoarse groan and a “Shit, I’m gonna bust it,” Bradley doubled his efforts and was rewarded with three, then four bursts of thick, warm seed. Fuck Chance tasted so good. Bradley feared he may just be addicted.

Chance halted Bradley once Bradley had taken all he had to offer and pulled him up for a wet, salty kiss that held no finesse. “Thank you, thank you,” Chance whispered as he kissed Bradley’s lips then his cheek, then his chin. Then he dropped to his knees, and spit in his hand and fisted Bradley’s neglected, aching cock. Bradley was mesmerized as Chance kissed around the base. Then tentatively Chance took in the head and mimicked Bradley’s earlier suck and stroke routine. It was definitely a novice blowjob, but it was the hottest moment of Bradley’s life as he saw Chance’s puffy lips stretched over his cock.

“Oh, oh fuck, Chance pull off... I’m gonna…” Chance did pull off but he gripped tighter and stroked Bradley’s cock, looking up at him intently. Bradley’s hips canted forward as his balls drew up and he shot on Chance’s face, his shoulder, his throat. He groaned and went to his knees again, licking his cum from Chance’s cheek and was surprised when Chance kissed him.

“Tastes different,” Chance said after they ended the kiss. Now that they were finished, Bradley realized how much jizz he’d gotten on Chance, and Chance’s T-shirt since they’d never made it to the part where they did more than drop their pants.

“Sorry about the mess,” Bradley said. But he wasn’t really. He would admit he was a shamelessly toppy bastard and seeing his cum all over Chance made him feel all warm and happy somewhere deep inside. It also was enough to make his erection not flag completely.

Chance looked at his shirt and laughed. Fucking A. That was the first laugh Bradley had heard from the man since they’d met again in that bar three weeks ago and it was stunning. The way his eyes lit up with amusement and the deep timbre of his chuckle touched something in Bradley that he couldn’t quite name.

But it was gone a moment later and Chance was getting to his feet and pulling up his pants. After picking his Stetson off the floor and placing it on the coffee table, Chance disappeared into what looked to be the kitchen. The magic, it appeared, was over.