Laird's Choice

by Remmy Duchene

  "Race…"

  But once the words started tumbling from his lips, Race couldn't seem to stop them. He swallowed the lump in his throat and lifted his eyes at Laird. "My brother, the only person I loved more than anything in my whole pathetic life. I loved him always, especially those times when I didn't even like myself and there he was looking so pale and dying in my arms. I knew he was dying because he was bleeding too much. I took off my shirt and pressed it against the wound but he only screamed in pain. But no matter how much he cried out to me, I couldn't take pressure off. I had to stop the bleeding."

  He paused. "I felt it the moment he was gone. There is a certain dread and overwhelming loss that comes when you watch someone you love die. Anger was the only thing I could feel after I caught my breath. I couldn't understand why Shane, who'd never harmed anyone, would die and I was still alive. I couldn't understand it. I still don't understand. The next thing I know someone was pulling me away and all I could think to do then was run."

  "That's when Xavier came after you."

  "You know Xavier?"

  "Yes. He's my brother's boyfriend."

  Race nodded. "Yeah, X had his team come after me because he was afraid someone else would get gun happy.

  We weren't best friends but we got along. My life was over after that. We thought justice would prevail—it took eight years. Now what am I supposed to do? They gave me fifty million dollars… but all that's useless to me now. I can't even find a man without my past coming back to haunt me."

  * * * *

  Laird stepped closer and gripped Race's hips. He

  pulled his body into the cowboy's and took a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that and I am very sorry I was such a moron. I just—it was a lot of

  information and it all hit me at the exact same time."

  "I should have understood that. But I just couldn't get over being rejected again. The truth is, Laird, you can't have me around. I don't know if I can get over someone looking at me like I'm some kind of monster and not get angry. I am so damn angry all the time and so far it's just been simmering."

  "Did you mourn your brother?"

  "I—I couldn't. The guilt that was inside me—that is still inside me—won't let me."

  "Don't you think it's time you do that? He can't blame you, Race. You did nothing wrong. You tried to save him even though it broke your heart because it caused him pain. He's your brother. No matter what you do he loves you."

  "How do you know that?"

  Laird chuckled. "I know it's not the same thing but even when Rajan and Savaro make me mad enough to

  literally push steam out my ears, I still love them with almost everything in me."

  Race smiled at him and Laird's breath caught in his throat. He lifted a hand to caress Race's cheek.

  "Give me another chance, Race. Come home with me."

  "Do you think that's the best of ideas?"

  Laird groaned, dragging a finger over Race's nipple and stopping slightly to hook his nail beneath the nipple ring through his shirt. "I've missed you. I've missed your body. I've missed…" Laird took a breath, snaked a hand down Race's body and grabbed his cock, "…this."

  Race gasped. "It can't be this easy."

  Laird watched as the cowboy's head slipped

  backwards each time he added pressure to Race's quickly hardening cock. His large body trembled and Laird inched closer. "Of course it can. I have these feelings for you and I know you have them too or you wouldn't be here with me.

  Please… all I ask is for a second chance."

  Race gripped his hand, pulling it away from his

  tender rod. He licked his lips and Laird groaned. "This is so strange."

  "What?"

  "You asking me for a second chance. I always imagined me asking you for that."

  "It doesn't matter who's asking. All that matters is your answer."

  Race leaned in, taking Laird's lips. Laird groaned, leaning heavily into the kitchen counter and holding onto Race for dear life. When the cowboy lifted his mouth, Laird whimpered.

  "My answer," Race whispered, "is always yes. I don't know how I came to deserve you but I just want to keep on doing it."

  Laird couldn't control himself. He launched himself into Race's arms, wrapping his arms around Race's neck.

  He pressed his face into Race's neck and inhaled deeply. "I promise to work every day to be the man you deserve."

  "That's funny—I feel the same way."

  When Race's arms tightened around him, Laird

  suddenly felt more alive than he'd been in the past three months.

  Chapter Nine

  The rain thundered against the roof of Laird's house and Race couldn't wrap his mind around the strangeness.

  He'd never been to Laird's before. Laird was working away on some offers on a few properties he'd fallen behind on so Race decided to tour the house. He was making his way into the large kitchen when the doorbell rang. Shrugging, he turned for it. Yanking it open, a large, dark-skinned, Indian male breezed by him followed closely by Jamal Kendricks and another man.

  "Erm—hi." Race closed the door and turned to look at them.

  "You must be Race McKade." The Indian male extended a wet hand. "I'm Rajan, Laird's brother. This is Savaro, the ugly one, and Jamal, his husband."

  "That's what he thinks," Savaro said.

  Race nodded and shook each of their hands. "A pleasure. Laird is in the den. He's trying to get some last minute work done."

  "That boy works too damn much," Jamal muttered.

  "I'm gonna find something to change into."

  He left the group and climbed the stairs. "Wait for me!" Savaro called. "Excuse me."

  Race was left standing there in silence with Rajan.

  "You should probably change too," Race motioned to the wet clothes.

  "You're right."

  "Where's X?"

  "He's on a grab right now—sorry, he and the CT

  went on a bust. Not sure when they'll be back. Excuse me a second. The last thing I need is to catch a cold."

  Race nodded.

  "You don't need to be nervous," Rajan explained.

  "You can tell, huh?" Race chuckled softly. "Before, I wouldn't care what my boyfriend's family thought of me or our relationship. But with Laird…"

  "It's called maturity. Sometimes we meet someone who means so much to us that our old bad habits just vanish. It was the same thing I went through with Xavier.

  Don't fight it and don't be too scared to be yourself that you lose all the fun part of falling in love."

  A smile danced across Race's lips and he hung his head. The truth was there was no falling in love with Laird.

  He was way past that—he'd fallen head over heels already and he hadn't even seen it coming.

  "Have you told him yet?" Rajan questioned.

  "Told who what?"

  "Told Laird you love him."

  "And you know I love him how?"

  "Nothing you said," Rajan answered. "You have this look in your eyes, Race. It's the same look Xavier gets as he looks at me when he thinks I'm not looking. The way you just blushed when I asked—the simple truth of this whole thing is, love is love, Race. Just tell him."

  "And if he's not in this for love."

  "Then you don't know him as well as you think."

  Rajan shrugged.

  Race nodded and watched Rajan climb the stairs

  before hurrying into the den. He hopped on the side of Laird's desk and reached across to kiss his lover's nose.

  "Your brothers are here."

  "What?" Laird looked around then gasped. "Damn, I lost track of time. Where are they?"

  "Well, they all muttered something about

  changing—do they leave clothes here?"

  Laird shrugged before wrapping his arms around

  Race's neck. "Nah. Most of my clothes can pretty much fit them. If one can't find anything they'll just walk around in a towel."


  "They all look different than you."

  Laird pushed his papers away and smiled. He

  caressed Race's thigh, inching his hand closer and closer to the front of his lover's pants. He watched that special area grow under his impending touch. "Yes. Rajan, Savaro and I aren't blood but we are brothers. We met as children, became close, and then our father adopted us." He sighed, trailing a finger over the now hard bulge. "Actually he wanted Savaro. But Sav being Sav wouldn't go unless he took all of us."

  "Wow… That's love."

  "Yes…"

  "I miss that."

  "You'll get it back, Race. With my brothers, once you prove that you're good for me, they will love you just as much."

  Hearing that caused Race's breath to catch in his throat. He wasn't sure they would ever think he was good enough, especially after hearing he was an ex-con.

  Laird must have seen the worry in his eyes because the real estate agent squeezed Race's cock. "Turn around would you?"

  "I know you're freaky, baby, but your brothers and Jamal are here. Don't start nothin' you can't finish in the next minute." But even as he said that, Race turned to rest his legs astride Laird on the arms of his office chair.

  Laird laughed. "Just shut up and gimme your lips."

  With a moan, Race leaned in and kissed Laird. He

  pressed his eyes closed, inhaled deeply, and allowed himself to fall into the kiss. The taste of it left him breathless and disappointed when Laird pulled back.

  "You're right," Laird whispered. "We should stop until later."

  " Now you agree with me?"

  "I know, I'm sorry. I thought I could just settle for just a little bit."

  "You do know I'm going to find some way to pay you back, right?"

  Laird laughed softly causing Race to lean in for

  Laird's mouth again. Footsteps in the hall and at the doorway pulled them apart, and Race glanced over his shoulder. Savaro stood there dressed in a pair of jeans and a white dress shirt.

  "Erm… I'll let you guys talk." Race began easing from the desk.

  "You don't have to leave, Race," Laird explained, holding Race in place.

  Race smiled and kissed Laird on the nose. "It's all right. I need to call Winston so he doesn't have a fit, and then I should probably take a shower. You guys want me to order something for dinner?"

  "Nope," Savaro chimed in. "Jamal is going to cook.

  Trust me, it's a treat."

  "Oh… okay. I'll just go take a shower then," Race said, climbing off the desk. He walked past Savaro at the door and turned up the stairs.

  * * * *

  "Did we say something wrong?" Savaro asked.

  "No. I think it has something to do with what happened with his jail sentence and all that." Laird took a breath and walked around his desk to hug Savaro. "I completely forgot we were having dinner tonight. I would have asked him over another night."

  "No—this gives us a chance to meet this man."

  Savaro fell into the sofa across the room and leveled his eyes on his brother. "Did you two talk? You seemed pretty cozy when I walked in."

  "Yeah, we talked. It wasn't his fault, you know. But he blames himself because he'd covered for his brother that night. He didn't say it but I think he thought if he'd told his mother Shane was lying then his brother wouldn't be dead.

  The strange thing is I understand him. If something had happened to any of you guys I would have lost it."

  "Well, he doesn't need to be so jittery around us,"

  Savaro explained. "There are questions but it is not our place to ask them. If you've asked all the questions and you're satisfied with the answers and you want this man, Laird, who are we to get in the way of that?"

  "Well, this is good. You guys coming here tonight is good. This way he can sit down and we can all talk and he can see you guys won't judge."

  Savaro opened his mouth to speak but snapped it

  shut when footsteps came down the stairs. Both brothers looked to see if Race was coming down the steps. Instead Rajan and Jamal came through the door. Laird gave them each a hug.

  "All right, Jamal, make me something tasty!" Laird joked.

  Jamal eyed him with a smirk. "Sure thing,

  sweetheart."

  "Hey now," Savaro called. "If anyone is going to be bossing this sexy morsel around, it's gonna be me." He stressed his words by swatting Jamal on the bum.

  Rajan moaned. "You three need a room?"

  Jamal laughed. "You guys can hash that out. I'm going to make some dinner. Any beer?"

  "Yeah Race bought some earlier," Laird replied.

  They fell into silence once Jamal was out of the

  room. They could hear the shower going upstairs and Jamal moving around in the kitchen.

  "So I'm just going to say it," Rajan finally broke the silence. "Race is unsure of us. It's almost as if he doesn't know what to do."

  Laird nodded. "Give him time."

  Rajan nodded. "I should talk to him. Or maybe have Xavier talk to him. There was a time when X thought he wouldn't fit in with us."

  "Really?" Savaro asked. "Well, I knew he felt he didn't fit in but didn't think he was thinking of leaving."

  "Remember that time we almost broke up? The time I went away and he thought I ran because we had sex?"

  Rajan asked. "He felt as though he'd put his foot in his mouth."

  "It's never going to be easy, Laird," Rajan explained. "Especially with the past he was forced to go through. Just give him time."

  "When did you get so smart?" Savaro asked Rajan with a smirk.

  Laird chuckled.

  "Bite me," Rajan replied.

  Chapter Ten

  The shower was precisely what he needed. Though

  a part of him knew he was only using it to hide from what was happening downstairs. He was nervous about spending a great deal of time with Laird's family; afraid they'd take one look at him and see the fake inside him. Sure, he had money before he went to prison. But after his conviction his parents changed their wills—left it all to charities and had a fund set up in Shane's name for men in abusive relationships. He lost more than his life because of that conviction.

  During the trial, his parents slowly drifted away from him. They started out standing up for him, being extremely vocal about how they didn't think he killed his brother. Suddenly they stopped going to the trial—stopped caring. The next thing he knew it was three years into his confinement, his mother was dead and his father sent him a letter telling him he was no longer their son. A year later, his father was gone too. After that, Race knew he had nothing left and settled into prison life.

  Shaking the water from his hair, Race turned off the tap and reached for Laird's towel. While drying himself off, he used the time to build up enough courage to settle into this life just as well as prison life. Prison was a disease to him, seeping through every vein in his body. He wanted Laird and knew the best path to his own happiness was to make him happy.

  Race finished dressing and sat on the edge of

  Laird's bed. It'd been a few hours since he'd arrived at the house but he already knew where everything was. Rolling up his sleeves, he took a breath and pushed his fingers through his wet hair, raking it back. A knock on the bedroom door pulled him from his worry. He looked up to see Xavier standing there.

  "Hey," Xavier greeted him.

  "Hey."

  "I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now."

  "Now why would you say a thing like that?" Race asked, scratching his cheek, which hadn't been shaved in a day.

  Xavier said nothing. He walked into the room and

  sat beside Race. Race could hear the cop's intake of breath and the exhalation that came after holding the air in for a bit. Still Xavier said nothing and Race knew why. The silence around them was needed.

  "I could say I was sorry," Xavier finally said. "But I'm sure you don't want me to lie to you. I kept you alive and that was the most important thi
ng to me then. When your name came up I think I aged ten years just staring at the warrant. Then I saw murder and if things weren't so serious I would have burst out laughing. I found it funny they wanted you for murder because I knew better."

  "Still, they convicted me."

  "Yes. They did. I was at that trial every chance I got and I just didn't see how. Your lawyer should have asked for a change of location. There was no way you would get a fair trial in that town and I knew it. By the time Winston took your case it was too late for everything." Xavier ran a hand over his face.

  "None of this is your fault you know," Race implored. "You did your job and it was up to them to look and make sure justice was done. I didn't make it any easier on myself by running."

  "You were a scared kid then."

  "I was twenty-five!"

  "Still. Twenty-five doesn't mean anything when you're still living at home. You were just in limbo then."

  Xavier chuckled. "The truth is, if things work between you and Laird we'll be family and we'll be closer now than we've ever been. If you still have an issue with happened back then please speak now."

  "I do have issues with what happened back then…

  but they aren't with you. I was angry at you for a while then but it didn't last. The only thing I want to focus on now is being with Laird and making sure Savaro and Rajan see that I want to be here."

  "Can I give you some friendly advice about the Anatolis brothers and their father George?"

  Race shifted to fold a leg against the bed with the other hanging off so he could pay close attention. "Yeah, sure."

  "When it comes to family, they are easy," Xavier said. "You love their brother. You honor him. You treat him with respect, and they'll be happy."

  "Loving Laird isn't hard."

  "Neither is loving Rajan. The three of them are close—always have been and always will be. Sometimes they argue and you think you should hurry in there before they kill each other. But it would never come to that—

  why? Because the bond they have between them is stronger than all of that nonsense. You couldn't have closer brothers if they had the same blood."

  Race listened, nodding. Though Xavier hadn't said all that much, he'd given Race plenty to think about. The first was he had to relax and let life happened. That was easier said than done. Laird deserved a man who could lift his head up and spend time with his family without feeling