Chapter 14
HUNTER
Monday brought two new cases onto my desk, which was a blessing because work was the only thing stopping me from backsliding into thoughts of Lincoln.
Being on my knees in front of him and him calling me Sir as he stood over me with his cock in front of my mouth had been one of the biggest mind-fucks of my life, and while the whole thing felt wrong, it was also somehow desperately right.
At lunch, I received two text messages at the same time. One from Lincoln and the other from Marshall.
Marshall
Lunch?
Lincoln
Plans tonight?
I texted my brother the affirmative and Lincoln the negative, then closed the case file I’d been studying to wait for answers from both of them.
Marshall
I’m out front.
That didn’t bode well. It wasn’t like Marshall to loiter.
I called Lincoln, and he answered on the first ring.
“I was just texting you back,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice, and it was enough to have me relaxing against the back of my chair, pretending my older brother wasn’t on the sidewalk waiting for me. “Did you want to come over? Or I can come over to yours?”
As curious as I was about Lincoln’s living situation, the twinge in his voice was unavoidable.
“You can come to mine,” I told him. “Do you want to spend the night?”
“Yeah,” he said, a little breathless.
“I get home around six on a good night. Meet me then?”
“Yeah. Yes.”
I paused, glancing out the window. “What are you doing with the rest of your day?”
“Filming some content,” he said.
Swallowing, I worried my bottom lip between my teeth.
Lincoln and I had already talked about this.
I knew making adult content was how he paid the bills, and I’d meant it when I told him I didn’t have a problem with it, but knowing he was going to be at home getting off while I was stuck at work did have me feeling some kind of way about the whole thing.
“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, ever defiant.
“No,” I assured him. “It does make me jealous, though.”
“Why?”
“Because every time you come I want to see it,” I told him.
On the other end of the line, Lincoln sucked in a sharp breath. “You asked for a close up before. Should I film that today?”
The yes was on the tip of my tongue, but heat pooled deep and dangerous in my belly before I could get the word out.
“Would you let me film it?” I asked instead. “Later tonight?”
Lincoln hummed, so low it almost vibrated the phone. “For me to upload or for you to keep?”
“Why not both?”
“Fuck,” he cursed and cursed again under his breath. “That shouldn’t be so hot.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
“Something for me to look forward to then,” I said, the original intent of my call lost to me until my ear pinged with an incoming text message that I simply knew was from my brother. “As delightful as this revelation is, I was calling to ask if you’d told Silas about us yet…or Smith.”
“I haven’t talked to your brother, but Silas…”
“Did you tell him?”
“Not explicitly,” Lincoln murmured. “He knows me well, though, and he’s good at putting the pieces of my secrets together.”
“Marshall knows, I think,” I confirmed for us both. “He just messaged me about getting lunch, and he’s already downstairs waiting for me.”
I turned off my monitor and stood up, checking my pockets for my wallet and keys before heading to the elevator.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking…” He trailed off before adding, “Silas used to keep my secrets.”
“I don’t want to be a secret,” I said, maybe with more force than I meant because the receptionist’s head snapped up and her eyes went wide. I gave her a conciliatory wave before stabbing my finger into the elevator button and repeating, softer, “I don’t want to be a secret.”
“I don’t want you to be,” he whispered back.
“But I’d like to be the one to tell Smith. Do you think…do you think that would cause issue with your friendship with him?”
The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside, turning to rest my ass on the back handrail. The doors closed, and I gave my reflection a quick onceover, wondering what exactly Lincoln saw in a man like me.
“If it does, he’s not a friend worth having.”
“All of my brothers are friends worth having,” I corrected.
“Then it won’t cause an issue.”
“I’m in the elevator,” I said, “so if I lose you, I’ll see you at six.”
“I can’t wai—”
The annoying trill of the disconnect notification rang sharply in my ear, and with a frown, I shoved my phone into my pocket.
Seconds later, I reached the ground floor.
The doors slid open into the busy reception lobby, and it was easy for me to pick Marshall’s imposing silhouette out on the street.
He paced the length of the building, a tense frown on his face.
Poor bastard. I needed to quickly put him out of his misery.
I closed the space between us with long and sure strides, pushing open the glass door and joining him on the curb as he turned for another length of sidewalk.
“Sorry for the wait,” I apologized.
“It’s fine,” he grumbled, pale eyes searching my face.
“I’m sleeping with Silas’ best friend.” I loosened the knot on my tie and smiled up at my protective—and apparently dominant—older brother. “Just thought you should know.”
“I do know,” he said.
“Has your mind been racing with curiosity over the things I do in the bedroom now?” I inclined my head toward the corner, toward the deli Finn and I frequented. “Because I know quite a bit more about your bedroom habits than I ever wanted to, if we’re being honest.”
Marshall let out a breath, falling into step beside me. “We’re always honest.”
“That’s why I’m telling you now.”
“How long has it been going on for?” he asked.
“It’s new.”
We reached the deli and quickly made our way to two vacant seats at the counter. The place was packed, all the booths and tables taken, the volume almost impossible to have a conversation over, which would only work out in my favor if things got too hairy with Marshall.
“Does this mean that you…” he trailed off.
“I don’t think we need to go into details, Marsh.”
“Right.”
I handed him a menu, picking at the cuticle on my thumb while he perused the sandwich offerings.
I ordered the same thing every time, so did Finn, so I couldn’t even remember the last time I looked to see what other options they had available.
I’d always imagined myself to be the kind of man who liked what he liked, but then Lincoln had shown up and neatly tossed that idea into the trash.
Or maybe he’d only shined a light on it.
I got the same thing because I knew I liked it, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other things out there that I would also like.
A frazzled-looking waitress came by, notepad in hand. “The usual?” she asked me.
I shook my head and jerked my thumb toward Marshall. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
From the corner of my eye, I could see Marshall’s raised brow. The waitress looked at him, and he ordered a hot turkey and swiss with bacon, then slipped the menu back into place behind the napkin dispenser.
“You need to be gentle with him,” Marshall said slowly, like the words were as curious to him as they were to me. It was the way I imagined he’d warn someone away from Smith, but the protectiveness toward Lincoln was unexpected.
“I know,” I said.
Maybe—hopefully—I knew better than Marshall did.
“He’s…there’s been a lot of upheaval for him. He’s not steady.”
“He’s steady with me.”
Marshall dragged his tongue across the front of his teeth and let out a long breath that took at least three inches off the height of his shoulders. “He’s adjusting to—”
I raised my hand and frowned at my older brother. “I’m gonna stop you right there.”
“Hunter.”
“I’m sure he appreciates your brotherly concern, but I think it’s safe to say that he and I have had conversations the two of you have probably not shared together.”
Marshall turned toward me, and I wanted to ask him when he’d gotten so old, when he’d gone so gray around the temples. Sometimes, in my head, we were still young. Finn and I teenagers, Marshall almost twenty, all of us still a few years off from Smith’s arrival.
Growing up under the watchful eye of Willem Covington had been a trial for the whole lot of us, but we’d come out mostly unscathed, if not extremely protective of each other’s interests.
Our brotherhood was different from most. We all understood that, even if we never spoke about it, and seeing Marshall spread that out to someone who wasn’t even partially related to us by blood sent a shock of emotion through me that I didn’t have the words to explain.
Lincoln needed to have people looking out for him, we all did, but where was that same care and grace for Andrew, our actual brother?
“I’m fond of Lincoln,” Marshall answered. “He’s Silas’ best friend, and as long as Silas wants to be with me, Lincoln will have a place as well.”
“Are you talking to me as my brother right now or a concerned surrogate father?” I asked.
A different server dropped off our sandwiches, and at the sight of the melty swiss cheese bubbling out from beneath the toasted bread, my stomach growled.
“Can’t it be both?” he asked.
“Did you have a talk with Lincoln too? About being gentle with your dearest brother?”
“I didn’t think I needed to,” he said.
I frowned, picking up half of the sandwich and taking a bite so I didn’t have to answer him. It was a good sandwich. Different from my usual corned beef in just about every way possible, but tasty still in its own right. I chewed and swallowed, took another bite, and repeated the process.
“You’re right,” Marshall said, setting down his half-eaten sandwich. “You’re my brother, of course I need to.”
I bit the corner of my tongue and stared down at my lap, swiping my greasy fingers across the flimsy white napkin and hoping it would be enough to stop my hands from staining my slacks.
“I don’t need coddling,” I told him. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s not coddling, and you know it.”
I thought about the revelation that my brother lived and breathed dominance in his private life, that even though there’d been instances in our youth when he’d conceded things to me or Finn or Smith, even though there’d been times he had to cave in or that he faltered, Marshall was as he’d always been.
Calm and collected, and very much in charge of his life and the people in it.
After all, he was the first person I’d called when I found out about Andrew’s existence.
He was the one I’d gone to for guidance.
He was apparently also the one Lincoln had sought out during his own confusion and struggles.
Marshall was the patriarch of all our lives, whether we liked the mess that made or not.
“I like him,” I told my brother. “Sincerely, I do. Even though there’s things…God, I don’t want to go into this with you.”
He chuckled and picked up his sandwich again, raising it halfway to his mouth. “You don’t have to, believe me.”
“I just…I have good intentions with him, with the whole thing.”
Marshall finished the bite he was chewing, then polished off the rest of the half before turning his attention to the pickle spear on the side of my plate. He made quick work of it, then reached for mine, which I gave him freely.
“I know you do,” Marshall said, licking pickle juice from his fingers. “I can’t think of a better man for him than you.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes. “I’m confident that’s not true.”
Beside me, Marshall went still, and without much thought, so did I.
“If he can do better than you, then you shouldn’t be with him,” he said. “And if you don’t think he’s the best choice for you…”
My breath hitched in my throat, and I balled my napkin up in my hand, tossing it onto the counter. “It’s new, Marsh.”
“You’re a smart man, Hunter. Smarter than most.”
“I appreciate the vote of confi—”
“I want the best for you,” he said, cutting me off. “I want the best for Finn and for Smith and for Silas and for Lincoln too.”
“You’re a bleeding heart,” I muttered, flagging the waitress down for a box.
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
We boxed up our leftovers and Marshall walked me back to the office. He didn’t say anything else about Lincoln, but when we parted, he hugged me extra hard, kissed the side of my head before pulling back to look at me. Like…really look at me.
“For what it’s worth, Hunter, I did mean what I said. You’ve grown up to be a good man, and you’ll be a good partner. But if you don’t think the same…”
I sighed, scrubbing a hand down my face. “It feels arrogant to assume I’m the best he can do.”
“It shouldn’t feel arrogant.” The corner of his mouth twitched up and he shrugged before taking a step past me, then another. “It should feel like a goal.”