Chapter Eleven
Isley
“Somme… you home?” Isley called out, dropping his rucksack on the small bench next to the door he kicked shut.
Listening out, he shrugged out of his jacket, rolling his neck to ease some of the tension created by his AWOL boss.
The hard knots as big as boulders across the top of his shoulders were all Laken’s fault.
“Inconsiderate asshole!” he grumbled. There had been a total lack of response to his text to Laken. Nada, as in nothing. Not so much as the courtesy of a message or damn email to say why he hadn’t rocked up to work, leaving Isley floundering to cover his ass.
He shoved aside his worry that something had happened to the alpha after he’d gone seeking out the gossip to see if he’d missed something.
There’d been no mention by anyone else that Laken had been in an accident of any kind—which is the only excuse Isley would forgive—and he’d checked more than once throughout the day, much to his chagrin.
“The man does not deserve my concern.” He threw his jacket on a hook and stomped through his apartment.
Now that he was home, alone, without an audience, he allowed his ire to grow at having been left to fight fires all day.
Had he worked his tiny ass off to not draw attention to Laken’s absence.
Yes, he damn well had, though why… well, that he wasn’t going to dwell on, because really wasn’t that what a PA was supposed to do?
You are too funny.
No, I’m not. And don’t start with me I’m not in the mood, he argued with his animal half. I’ve had about all I can handle. You hear me!
He didn’t want to think about how the concern had crept up on him like a blanket of fog, masking everything else from his mind.
That worry had set in after two hours. By hour four, Isley had worked himself up into so much of a lather, he could have used an entire bar of soap.
He’d avoided his friends so they wouldn’t guess he had a problem.
Harder than it sounded when he’d had to ask Bowie to take his hour of looking after Emmy.
They all had an allocated hour slot to help Frey stay and work and be able to have his precious darling close.
Thankfully, Bowie had agreed without asking too many questions, or at least ones he wasn’t happy to lie about.
Lying to his friends never sat well with Isley.
He’d never learned to do it well either, so avoidance was more his thing.
At the counter that split his open plan apartment in two, he couldn’t decide if he was hungry or in need of a stiff drink to help him relax.
With his brother out, he had no one to offload to.
It wasn’t that Isley minded having a demanding job that pushed him to be creative when he was required to juggle many things at once.
Only today, it went beyond juggling. It had been more like traipsing across a tightrope while juggling.
Although he was pissed on an epic level at Laken for taking him for granted, that didn’t mean he should shove him under the bus—not that he didn’t deserve it for making him worry.
Seeing he was going to end up going around in circles, he walked to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of wine, his decision made.
If there was ever a day that demanded wine, it was today.
He tended not to drink in the week, it just felt wrong to drink on what he deemed a ‘school night’.
Daft really, when he was a grown up, but there it was.
Glass of chilled white wine in hand, he sat staring out the large window that gave him a perfect view of the one and only river in Hazardville.
The sun was setting and made the water look as if someone had poured several large pots of glitter on it, causing glittering ripples as the air moved over it.
It soothed like it always did, and he used a booted foot to rock the seat he’d treated himself to the previous year, when Lane Starling had given them all a generous Christmas bonus.
The promotion to personal assistant to the Starling brothers three years prior gave him a pay boost, one he used to replenish his savings pot after putting down a large deposit on this apartment.
He was fortunate his parents had generously matched his savings to boost the deposit and reduce his mortgage.
He was fortunate they were all about their children buying rather than wasting their money on rent.
Although the extra money for the promotion was great, it wasn’t the real draw for Isley.
It was working with the other PAs, who were all now his close friends.
Just being a part of the team of eight made his job so much easier, to the point it hadn’t felt like work, until recently.
Frey, Ziggy, Wilder, Bowie, Lennon, Hollis, and Monty were more like family after all this time.
Then why haven’t you told them about Laken?
Wilder and Monty were who he spent the most time with outside of work, and with Monty’s return to Darling Ranch with Rue, he’d closed himself off a bit. Bowie’s confession about Kari hadn’t helped. Then this afternoon, Monty had dropped a bombshell about being mated to Rue and Kendrick.
That left him in the odd men out club with Lennon and Wilder. It was a sad state of affairs when he wished he could run away back to the ranch and hide with Monty from what was lacking in his life.
He downed half the glass of wine in one big gulp, hating how sorry he felt for himself.
Recently, it was becoming a bigger issue than he wanted to admit to.
Isley could see why the ranch held such appeal to the omegas Monty was taking care of.
It could most definitely be a refuge for those looking for peace and tranquility.
He could really do with some of that. Any idea of asking Monty to switch places with him was now just a pipe dream.
It was where it all started for you and Laken, his snarky sugar glider reminded him, so you can’t go back as it will be worse.
I could, he snapped, I so could.
Giggles filled his head, and he found any hope of a tranquil hour with a glass of wine disappearing.
“Why do things have to change?” he grumbled aloud. Everything had changed when the company founders had retired.
He rocked the seat and sipped the remainder of the wine, too tired right then to do anything else. Though it seemed his mind wouldn’t let up, falling back into the Laken trap. It was far too easy to think about nothing else.
Focus on the view.
Taking a deep inhale to get his pulse under control, Isley counted to five before releasing his breath slowly, emptying his mind of the rejection. He willed his comfy chair and the wine to do its job and get him to the relaxed state he craved.
Sometime later, nowhere near the zen state he aimed for, the rattle of a key in the lock had him grin at the blessed disruption that was his brother.
Tiredly, he tilted his head, readying himself for the whirlwind that was Somme.
Don’t get him wrong, he loved his elder brother, but he was a drama magnet.
He was currently crashing with Isley after a nasty break-up with an omega who had turned out to be a drug dealer.
He wasn’t sure how his brother picked these losers, but he did. Repeatedly.
It was then he noticed the apartment was tidier than usual, reminding him why Somme’s sofa surfing wasn’t all bad.
Somme spent his time between their siblings when his love life turned into a pile of dung.
He had more of a laid-back approach to life.
Sometimes Isley wondered what it would be like to be so carefree.
You’d freak out in ten seconds.
His animal side was right. “Where have you been?” Isley asked after Somme closed the door, looking wind swept and as handsome as the devil himself.
His pale blue eyes, the same as Isley's, held a wealth of mischief when a smile slid slowly over his full lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Mom said he’d been born with that look and had never lost it, and it always worked to get him what he wanted.
They looked much more alike than any other of their four siblings.
Gleaming, mahogany hair, full lips, inky dark eyelashes framing their pale blue eyes, and chiseled jawlines.
Too pretty, Mom often said, for their own good, but then they had all the good bits from both parents.
“I can tell by your expression it’s something I don’t want to know about,” Isley followed up quickly. He didn’t want to hear about his brother getting what he wasn’t. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d not used a toy or his own hand to get off.
Too long, his animal responded, which Isley ignored because they had been rejected while naked.
Somme came past and ruffled Isley’s hair in that big brother irritating way. “You need to live a little, bro.”
Isley smoothed his hair, scowling at Somme’s back as he continued walking through the apartment. “You live enough for the both of us.”
Somme’s raucous laughter filled the apartment as he poured a glass of wine from the bottle Isley had left on the counter. “I do, but you do know you don’t need to act like you’re an old man, well past their prime.”
It was a conversation they’d had repeatedly since Somme had moved in and Laken had entered their conversation. “It’s not acting like an old man when I don’t want to go out and shag anything with a pulse.”
Any shagging would be good.
Pleaseeee!
What? You use those toys to get us through our heat.
You won’t entertain the club that Ziggy mentioned, as much as you were interested when he said he met Silas in one.
I’m thinking Laken could be visiting these places.
You could ask Laken to help a poor hapless sugar glider’s human side have some fun.
His brother wore a grin that said whatever emotions were playing over his features, they had not gone unnoticed.
Somme settled himself on the couch facing the TV. “Don’t say a word,” Isley threatened, pointing his glass at Somme, “or you’ll find yourself homeless once more.” He didn’t mean it and Somme knew it was an empty threat; Isley wouldn’t do that to his brother.
“Give over, you’d never do that. And who would clean up after you. I don’t know how you can be more organized than a sergeant major at work but can’t manage to get your socks in the laundry basket.”
It was true, and Isley blushed with humiliation, shrugging it off defensively. “It was living with seven other people who thrived in chaos.”
It was the truth, his family were a messy bunch. He’d once brought home a friend who had found the cluttered mess and noisy house too much. After the first visit, he’d refused to come back and always insisted they go to his place to hang out.
“Anyway, you’re gonna have to sort yourself out after tomorrow. I’ve found a new apartment and paid a deposit today. Don’t want to cramp your style any longer.”
Total bullshit, there was nothing to cramp In Isley’s life. “Who is it?” Isley asked resignedly, knowing his brother all too well. Isley had one rule, no bringing home his shag buddies. Somme loved everyone and had an equal opportunity dick.
“Why do you say it like that?” he questioned, unable to quite keep the smirk to himself.
“Because it’s been three weeks since the last ‘love of your life’ and you are never single for long.”
Somme’s powerful shoulders shook with his laughter. “Got a lot of love to share around. And my dick gets lonely.”
The last sip of wine Isley took snorted right out his nose at that. He coughed and choked, looking through blurry eyes at his unrepentant brother while he swiped at his chin with the back of his hand. Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang.
Somme was up and heading to the door. “You expecting anyone?”
Isley had no plans. “Nope.”
“Who are you?” an angry voice demanded before Somme uttered a word.
Somme blocked most of the doorframe, but Isley would know that voice anywhere.
“What’s it to you?” Somme demanded in an aggressive tone he seldom used.
Isley sighed, gaining his feet and placing his glass down to go to the door to stop a macho pissing match. Somme was well aware of Isley’s issues with Laken, and he was very protective. He also knew who Laken was by sight.
Isley placed a hand on Somme’s flexing bicep.
“It’s fine, Somme. Laken, what do you want?
” he asked, avoiding looking directly at the alpha who wore casual clothes with the same finesse he wore his suit and looked too damn hot for Isley’s sanity.
Instead, he focused on the tub he held, which had a distinct aroma of warm cookies coming from it.
Chocolate chip, if Isley wasn’t mistaken.
Somme stayed right where he was, blocking most of the doorway, when Laken gruffly requested, “Can I have a minute, Isley—alone?”
“No, you—”
Isley squeezed his brother's arm again, signaling he was fine. “A minute,” Isley said grudgingly, when he was more intrigued than he wanted to be, as Laken had never come to his home before—with homemade cookies.