Confessions: Priest (Confessions Series Book 3)

by Ella Frank

  Julien kissed Priest’s chin and said, “Of course not. I love the way you love, Mr. Priestley.”

  “And I love you.” Priest brushed his lips over Julien’s. “Sleep. We both know I won’t, so you should at least try.”

  Julien placed his head on Priest’s chest, and Priest shut his eyes and memorized the way he felt there in his arms. Warm, solid, steady, and Priest knew he would do anything to keep Julien safe—to keep Robbie safe, too, should he decide to stay.

  With that thought lingering in his mind, Priest closed his eyes for a few minutes and let his mind drift off, thinking about the man in his arms and the one behind the shut door only a few feet away…

  PRIEST LOOKED AT the clock on the wall of the tiny office he’d been told he could use while visiting Mitchell & Madison, and then back at the three faces aimed in his direction.

  Logan was running late for the meeting he’d set up for Vanessa Bianchi. That wasn’t so unusual with the unpredictable nature of their jobs, and being at the mercy of the court system, and under normal circumstances, Priest wouldn’t give a shit either way. But this meeting had gone from normal to not so normal when the two women seated opposite him had stepped inside his cramped temporary quarters, followed closely by—

  “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?”

  —the beautiful young man Priest had seen in the elevator a couple of days ago, when he’d flown out to Chicago to talk with Logan and Cole about coming on as a partner in this firm.

  If he hadn’t been looking directly at him, Priest would never have believed that fate would again put this delectable creature—whom he’d promised Julien he would forget due to the complications of dating a colleague—in his path.

  However, it had become crystal clear in the last few minutes that the man with the sculptured cheekbones, upturned nose, and bright red shoes wasn’t a colleague. In fact, he wasn’t even a client.

  It also appeared he had absolutely no recollection of Priest as the French-speaking man he’d made an awkward attempt of conversing with in the elevator a few days ago, and that made him all the more interesting.

  “My name is Joel Priestley. But most people call me Priest.”

  The man scoffed. “Yeah, okay. Sorry, but I’m not really the religious type,” he said, and then got to his feet. “Where’s Logan?”

  Priest trailed his eyes up the long legs wrapped in tailored black pants, and as he inspected the leather belt wrapped around the man’s narrow waist, Priest couldn’t help but wish he was alone with the mouthy little spitfire. He’d like to teach him a lesson or two in…manners.

  “He’s been held up. So for now, you’ll have to make do with me.”

  As the man’s vivid azure eyes lowered back to meet his, Priest sat back in his chair, arched a cool eyebrow, and took immense pleasure when the man’s face flushed and his spine stiffened.

  Yes. You feel that spark too. Don’t you, sweetheart?

  “Of course, Mr. Priestley,” the older woman in the room said, breaking the connection. Mrs. Cheryl Bianchi, according to the files. “Mr. Mitchell spoke very highly of you.”

  Priest said nothing in response, too caught up by the pretty distraction now walking over to the door to peer out of it.

  “He said you’re the best at what you do,” she continued, and Priest most certainly had an answer for that.

  “He’s right. I am,” Priest said, and caught the man by the door rolling his eyes.

  So much attitude. So much fire, Priest thought, and then lowered his eyes to the red shoes again, wondering how this man would look out of that work getup, which Priest assumed his tailored pants and bright red shirt was. “Is there a reason you won’t sit down, Mister…?”

  “Bianchi,” the man said as he turned Priest’s way and angled his chin up like a member of royalty deigning to speak with a mere commoner. “Robert Bianchi. And yes, I’m waiting for Logan to get back.”

  “Robert,” Cheryl said. “Come and sit down or you’ll wear a hole in the floor.”

  Robert’s eyes narrowed a fraction on Priest, and then he slipped his hands into the pockets of his black pants and walked back to the two women. He took a seat beside Vanessa, crossed his legs, and said, “Logan told us you were only here for a little while. Where do you usually work?”

  “Los Angeles,” Priest said, and got the impression that Robert had taken an instant dislike to him—right around the moment he’d realized he was attracted to Priest.

  “And how do we know you’re good enough to get Vanessa off?”

  “Because if I decide to take something on, I always make sure to get the person off.” Priest made sure to keep his expression neutral as he locked horns with the man across from him. But when Robert ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, Priest’s eyes fell to follow its path without any conscious thought from him.

  “Robert,” Cheryl snapped. “Stop grilling the man and give him a chance to talk.”

  “I’m just making sure he’s capable.”

  Priest sat forward in his chair and rested his arms on the table as he sized Robert up. It had been a long time—well, since he first met Julien—that someone had been so impertinent with him, and the pull Priest felt toward Mr. Robert Bianchi was a difficult one to resist.

  “I assure you, I am more than capable. I’m the best. That is why I have the luxury of being able to pick and choose the cases I work of those I suspect have been wronged. Your cousin’s is one of them. What she did was foolish, but after ten minutes of talking to her, I feel that I can help.” Priest looked to Vanessa. “Trying to hide drugs from the police, even if they weren’t yours, was a bad move. It made you look guilty—”

  “But I’m not,” Vanessa said, her voice as timid as a mouse, even though she was trying her hardest to project it.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Priest said, his tone cool, calm, and direct. “You look guilty. That’s all the jury has to see, and feel, to put you behind bars for the next eighteen years.”

  “Hey?” Robert interrupted, his tone pissy, his expression fiercely protective as he leaned forward on his crossed legs and waved a finger Priest’s way. “You want to maybe cool it on the whole doom-and-gloom spiel? I thought you were here to help.”

  “I thought I was here to do my job. Not lie to make you feel better.”

  Robert’s mouth fell open, and his eyes practically bugged out of his head before he finally got himself under control enough to say, “You’re very rude.”

  “I am? You’re the one who decided I couldn’t do this before you even spoke to me. You’re still looking out the door now waiting for Logan.” Which, Priest had to admit, was pissing him off more than it should.

  “Robert,” Cheryl said. “Hush. Mr. Priestley isn’t telling us anything we don’t already know. Your Mr. Mitchell told us the exact same thing.”

  His Mr. Mitchell? Hang on… Priest had thought Logan was a one-man kind of guy these days with Tate. Had that changed? Well, Priest wasn’t about to risk a chance at partnership one way or another over some haughty little princess. It was time to extinguish this sizzling tension between them, and the quickest way to do that was to turn lust to hate.

  “Excuse me,” Robert said. “But I trust Logan. I don’t know this guy at all.”

  “That’s exactly right.” Priest’s voice was terse as unwarranted jealousy, coupled with frustration, made him surlier than usual. “So if you would get down off your high horse for two seconds and actually let me talk, we might get past our first names and be able to move on. Is that okay with you? Or do you need to take a moment?”

  Robert snapped his mouth shut and crossed his arms over his chest, and before Priest started to talk again, he heard Robert mutter, “Ass.”

  There, mission accomplished.

  Any sexual tension they might have had was now officially replaced with a desire to kill one another…

  HOW WRONG HE had been, Priest thought, when he woke an hour or so later. As his eyes adjusted
to the shadow-filled room, he looked toward the master bedroom to see the door was slightly ajar.

  He shifted on the couch, automatically thinking to go and check on Robbie. But then he looked down to Julien, who was fast asleep in his arms, and made out the dark silhouette of someone curled up on the rug beside the two of them—Robert.

  He was laid out on his side, facing them with a pillow stuffed under his cheek, and he’d draped Priest’s large robe over the top of him like a blanket as he slept peacefully beside them.

  It seemed that even though Robbie had asked for space tonight, he still wanted to be close by.

  “Joel?” Julien’s voice was but a whisper. “You okay?”

  Priest pressed a kiss to Julien’s head and nodded. “Look,” he said into the quiet room, and Julien turned his head in the direction of Robbie.

  “He came out to us…”

  “He did.”

  Julien sighed as he snuggled back into Priest’s chest. “Whatever will we do with him?”

  Priest tightened his arms around Julien and said, “Love him?”

  “I already do,” Julien said, and Priest nodded. “You too, oui?”

  “Yes. Not that he believes that right now.”

  Julien turned in Priest’s arms and said, “Oh, I don’t know. There’s a reason he came out here tonight. He couldn’t stay away. He knows, mon amour. He knows…”

  “Maybe,” Priest said, as Julien relaxed back into sleep. But neither of them had had a chance to tell Robbie that yet, had they?

  Chapter Four

  CONFESSION

  It took the love of someone truly unselfish

  to teach me how to fully understand another.

  First you have to push aside your wants,

  and then you have to listen to their needs.

  “IF YOU STARE at that door any harder, mon amour, you’re going to drill a hole right through it.”

  Priest’s eyes shifted to Julien’s as he stood in the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee that he wished was another glass of whiskey. He’d been watching their bedroom closely for any signs of movement ever since he and Julien had woken to find that Robbie had moved back in there sometime in the early hours of the morning.

  “You’re right,” Priest said. “I just thought he’d come around since—”

  “He came out and slept by us last night?”

  “Yes.”

  Julien sat on one of the breakfast stools and reached for the bowl of fruit. “One step at a time, Joel. The fact he came out at all is a good thing, n’est-ce pas?”

  “You’re right,” Priest said. “I’m just annoyed at myself. We could’ve avoided all of this tension if I’d just been upfront with him.”

  Julien took one of the plump strawberries in front of him and popped it in his mouth. “Well, it isn’t like you and the princesse haven’t had your fair share of that in the past. Your entire relationship was built on tension, was it not?”

  Priest raised an eyebrow. “It’s not the same. This feels…”

  “Ten times worse?”

  Priest sighed and was about to respond when the sound of the bedroom door opening had him and Julien looking across the living room to see Robbie, who was now standing in the doorway.

  Robbie was fully dressed and ready for the day in a pair of baggy black pants and a plain beige pullover, and his thick hair looked as though he’d barely run his fingers through it. His eyes were devoid of any lining, and there was no glossy lip balm applied to his mouth. Even so, Priest couldn’t remember him looking more appealing.

  Julien, ever the peacemaker, was the first to break the silence. “Bonjour, princesse. How did you sleep?”

  Robbie’s eyes flicked between them as he walked to the island, but then landed firmly on Julien. “Good. And you?”

  Fucking hell, Priest thought. This was the worst feeling ever. Seeing Robbie so neutral, so…stiff made Priest feel as though he’d stripped a rainbow of its colors.

  “We slept well,” Julien said, and then turned to Priest to see if he wanted to add anything, but honestly, he was too busy staring at Robbie and willing him to look his way to think of anything.

  “Do you have any plans today?” Julien continued when it was clear he was the only one in the room who was going to talk.

  “I, uh, I thought I might go and visit Nonna at her new place now that she’s settled in, and maybe have dinner with Elliot,” Robbie said, and then finally turned his attention to Priest. “If it’s safe for me to go.”

  Priest wanted to tell Robbie that he would always be safe, that Priest would never let anything harm him. But since Priest was the one who had brought the potential threat to their door, he was hardly in a position to promise any such thing.

  Instead, he said, “I’d feel better if one of us drove you.” When Robbie stared at him, Priest added, “Just until I know more about what’s going on with Jimmy.”

  Priest didn’t want Robbie to feel as though this would be his life from here on out, that he wouldn’t be free to do what he wanted, and when, because he’d gotten into a relationship with the son of—well, Jimmy. But the reality was that Priest had no clue how this was going to go, and until he had an inkling, he wanted his men safe. No matter how annoying or inconvenient it may be.

  “Okay,” Robbie said.

  “Why don’t you eat something while Priest gets ready for work, and then I’m sure he’d be happy to take you to your nonna’s,” Julien said.

  Way to be subtle, Julien.

  Robbie frowned, likely about to disagree, but then he turned to Priest and said, “Would that be okay? I wasn’t sure you were going in, since it’s nearly eleven.”

  “I am. Just a half-day.”

  “Oh, all right. Well, it’s not that far out of your way. She picked a place right here in town.”

  Priest wouldn’t have cared if Robbie’s nonna lived three hours out of town. If Robbie wanted to ride with him, then Priest wasn’t about to say no. “Give me about twenty minutes.”

  Robbie bit down on his lip and nodded as Priest stepped around him and headed toward the bedroom, and as he went, he heard Julien say, “Bien. Now that that’s settled, what can I get you for breakfast, princesse?”

  BY THE TIME Robbie had finished his bagel and coffee, Priest was stepping out of the bedroom ready for work in a grey pressed suit and black dress shirt that made his hair and eyes stand out in dramatic contrast.

  For a moment there, while Priest had been showering, Robbie had been able to breathe. Julien hadn’t pressured him into talking, and unlike Priest, he was just easy to be around—even in the dead silences. There was no tension rolling off Julien, no uneasy emotions or expectations. Whereas Priest was making the room practically vibrate with how on edge he was.

  Priest wanted to talk; Robbie knew that. He wanted to clear the air and know where things stood between them all. But right now, what Robbie needed was some normalcy in his life. He needed to make sure the decisions he was making—or about to make—were the right ones, considering how big they were.

  After he’d finished dinner last night, he’d lain in that enormous bed on his own and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. He’d tossed and turned and willed himself to fall asleep. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the two men in the other room.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to be out there with them or have them in there with him, and despite what had happened earlier in the day, Robbie had found himself seeking them out, drawn to Julien and Priest in ways he’d never imagined. And once he was by their side, on that soft rug of theirs, he’d fallen asleep in an instant, like it was where he was meant to be.

  It was that which had him heading out the door today. He knew he’d never be able to think beyond the three of them when Julien and Priest created such a strong pull. So the only solution was to remove himself from their gravitational field for a little while—at least for a few hours.

  “Are you ready to go?” Priest said,
as he walked into the living room and picked up his keys.

  Robbie stood from the couch. “Yes.”

  “Okay,” Priest said, as Julien came out of the bedroom dressed for the day. “Then let’s get going.”

  As the three of them headed out the door and down the hall, it was in complete silence, and Jesus, Robbie thought, this is worse than having a damn tooth pulled. Once they were in the parking lot, Julien kissed Priest, who then got in his car, and wrapped his arms around Robbie and kissed his temple.

  “Remember, it’s all about time and trust, princesse. Take what you need. We aren’t going anywhere.”

  Julien got in the SUV and headed out, leaving Robbie to climb into the passenger seat of Priest’s Aston Martin.

  Once his seatbelt was buckled, Robbie glanced at Priest and blurted out, “I hate this.”

  Priest looked at him, and Robbie fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. Something he hadn’t done in a long while under that piercing grey gaze.

  “You hate what?”

  “Not talking to you. Feeling tense around you again. I hate it.”

  “If it helps, I hate it too,” Priest said, and then started the car.

  As he drove it out of the garage, Robbie chewed on his lip and studied Priest’s solemn expression. His lips were drawn tight, his hands were white-knuckling the wheel, and he’d put on a pair of Aviators to block out the sun’s glare—and likely me.

  If Robbie hadn’t been feeling so tightly strung, he might’ve taken the moment to appreciate just how attractive Priest was then, because there was no denying it—he was ruggedly handsome. In fact, the whole stoic suit deal he had going on made Priest even more appealing than normal, which was the last thing Robbie needed to be thinking about. So he quietly and methodically directed Priest on where to turn to get to his nonna’s, and when they came to a stop at a red light, Priest said, “If there’s anything you need today, you call, okay? No matter what time it is, I don’t care. And if you can’t get me, you call Julien.”