by Shawn Lane
At Long Last: Scott and Preston
By Shawn Lane
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2018 Shawn Lane
ISBN 9781634866965
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
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This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
NOTE: This book was previously published by Loose Id.
* * * *
At Long Last: Scott and Preston
By Shawn Lane
At Long Last
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Until the End of Time
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
At Long Last
Chapter 1
The right wall of Preston Reynolds’s office vibrated, shaking the framed awards and diplomas hanging there. Loud bass and percussion pounded from the direction of the room next door.
Across from his desk sat a little old lady with perfectly coiffed gray hair, twisting her gnarled hands and casting glances at the moving wall. Biting her lip, Mrs. Windham shifted in the chair.
Preston cleared his throat and attempted his best reassuring smile. “Sorry about that, Mrs. Windham. Now, then, you needn’t be concerned about your grandson. I’ll go and see him in lockup this afternoon. Everything will be okay.”
She nodded. “I’ve been told Trask and Reynolds is the best at what they do. My grandson is completely innocent, but naturally our family is concerned. So many get railroaded by the courts.”
“I’ll make sure he gets the best defense possible, Mrs. Windham.”
The wall jumped with a particularly loud blast of bass. Mrs. Windham’s startled gaze went once more toward the room next door.
Preston stood and approached her chair, helping her up. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve been to see him. You can call me anytime with that number on the card I gave you.”
Mrs. Windham allowed herself to be ushered out of his office and down the hall to the reception area.
“Wendy, see that Mrs. Windham’s parking charges are waived,” Preston said to the pretty African American receptionist.
“No problem, Mr. Reynolds.”
The double glass doors of the front office opened and Preston’s law partner and best friend, Jack Trask, walked in. The tall blond man dressed in a pinstriped navy suit similar to his own smiled warmly at Mrs. Windham.
“Good morning. Good morning, Preston, Wendy.”
Wendy murmured, “Good morning.” She cast her eyes down at the parking pass Mrs. Windham had handed to her, but not before Preston noticed the sparkle in her dark eyes when her gaze briefly met Jack’s.
“I’ll talk to you later, Mrs. Windham,” Preston said, then walked toward his office. He took a few steps farther and stood outside the closed door of the office blaring rock music.
“Hey, what’s up?” Jack came down the hall, removing his suit jacket. “Something wrong?” He nodded to the closed door.
“This is your brother’s first day, and already he’s a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, I know it’s going to be an adjustment. Dad insisted we give the kid a chance.”
Kenneth Trask was the third partner in the law firm, but he was semi-retired now. He’d been the one to hire Scott, Jack’s little brother, as a private investigator and accountant for the firm. Preston had been rather surprised, as Ken seemed to feel his youngest son was something of a flake.
“You want me to talk to him?” Jack asked.
“No, I’ll handle it.” Preston reached for the door handle. “Um, something going on between you and Wendy?”
“Why would you ask that?” Jack raised a blond brow.
“Office romances are never a good idea, Jack.”
“Duly noted, but nothing is going on.” Jack rolled his eyes and headed for his own office.
Shrugging, Preston tapped on the door. After a few moments of silence he figured it was unlikely Scott could even hear him. He pounded his fist.
No answer.
He turned the handle.
Scott was flung across the desk in the room on his stomach, his jean-clad ass sticking up, the tops of his cheeks clearly visible. The white T-shirt he wore had bunched up underneath him. His head was missing.
“What the hell?” Preston walked to the stereo on a small table against the wall their offices shared and pushed the OFF button. Silence at last.
Scott’s head shot up from the other side of the desk, by the chair. His face was bright red, and he held a box of paper clips.
“Oh hi, Pres.” Scott lifted himself on his muscular arms, then scooted down the desk, his ass prominently displayed. His feet touched the ground, and he turned to face Preston.
“Mind telling me what you were doing?” Preston asked, ignoring the way his mouth went dry at the display. He was not going to analyze the absurd way he reacted to Scott. No way.
Scott grinned. “I dropped a box of paper clips.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier…never mind.” Preston shook his head. His gaze raked over Jack’s little brother. It had been years since he’d seen Scott. In fact, the kid was nineteen to his thirty when last he’d been in town. Six years later he was back, and now Ken had given him a job.
Sure, Ken had talked to Preston about it. He could hardly refuse to allow Scott to be hired. Ken had given Preston his own shot there at the firm. But he didn’t have to like it.
Smaller than either his brother or his father, Scott stood maybe an inch shorter than Preston’s own six feet. Scott’s hair was a darker shade of blond than Jack’s too. He had the same violet-blue eyes as the rest of the Trasks.
For some reason Preston had never thought about too carefully, he found Scott to be just about the best-looking man he’d ever seen. Six years ago, he’d even had a few inappropriate dreams about Scott. Wet dreams. Scott was gay, but Preston wasn’t, so there was absolutely no reason to be dreaming of Scott that way. And yet…Preston appreciated the way Scott’s biceps bulged under his thin T-shirt.
“We wear business attire here,” Preston said, indicating Scott’s casual clothing.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Dad told me. I’m going suit shopping later today.”
“I see. Listen, could you keep the music way down from now on? I had a client in my office this morning.”
Scott tilted his head to the right and hit his left ear.
“What are you doing now?”
“I think I got water
in my ear when I showered this morning.” Scott straightened. “Wow, it’s been a while, huh? Two, three years?”
“Six.”
Scott nodded. “Hmm. You shouldn’t be such a stranger, Pres.”
“You’ve been the one living in New York, not me.”
He grinned, showing two dimples. “Oh yeah. Well, anyway, I’m starved. Where are you buying me breakfast?”
“Breakfast? I’m not buying you breakfast. I just came in here to tell you keep it down.”
“Yeah, you are. There’s a diner down the street. I saw it on the way here. We’ll go there.” Scott approached him and pushed him toward the still open door of his office. “You do want me to help prove Mrs. Windham’s grandson innocent, don’t you?”
* * * *
Scotty kept one eye fixed on the plastic menu the waitress had handed him, but his other he used to focus on Preston. Man, the guy was hotter than he’d been six years ago. Was that even possible? Oh yeah, he was hungry all right. For the straight man sitting across from him in the booth.
Dark curly hair, brown soulful eyes. Full, sensuous mouth. Perfect chiseled jaw. Oh fuck. He was getting hard.
Scotty cleared his throat, shifted on the bench. “What are you going to have?”
“Hmm. Pancakes, I suppose.” Preston set his menu down and reached for his coffee. “You?”
“I’m pretty hungry. I’m going to have eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and toast.”
“I’m not feeding you all week. Just breakfast.”
Scotty grinned. He loved the way the corners of Preston’s mouth quirked up. “I’m still growing.”
“You’re twenty-five. You aren’t still growing. Not to mention that stuff is terrible for you.”
“Whatever. Here comes the waitress.” Scotty rattled off his order, and then Preston gave his. She hurried away.
“What are you really doing at Trask and Reynolds, Scott?”
Scotty dipped his tea bag in the lukewarm water the waitress had brought him. “Working, just like you. I needed a job. Dad suggested I work for you guys doing the accounting and investigating. What’s so strange about that?”
“I’ve never known you to be serious about anything.”
Scotty frowned, trying to push aside the annoyance Preston’s words caused. “You knew me when I was nineteen, Pres. I’ve changed since then.”
Preston rolled his eyes. “Sure you have. For the record, my name is Preston, not Pres. If you’ve changed so much, what was that this morning?”
“What was what?”
“The blaring rock music coming from your office. You rattled my damn teeth.”
“I think it does you some good to be rattled occasionally, Pres.” Scotty tossed aside his tea bag and added milk and sugar to the cup. He didn’t want Preston and his brother to treat him like a kid. He decided to change the subject before he got too mad. “How’s your family?”
The waitress interrupted by placing their plates of food on the table in front of them, but not before Scotty noticed Preston stiffen.
Scotty forked a bite of egg. “Well?”
“I’m divorced now.” Preston’s tone was clipped.
“Sorry. Do you get to see the kids?” Scotty knew Preston had a son and daughter. He thought Preston’s son was ten and the daughter six or seven.
Preston shrugged, averting his gaze. “When I can. They’re living up north now. I saw them at the holidays.”
“That really sucks.”
“Yeah.”
They fell silent, each eating their breakfasts. Scotty wanted to ask Preston if he had a girlfriend but didn’t know how to ask without sounding rude. What really sucked, Scotty supposed, was being in love with your brother’s straight best friend. Oh sure, he’d only thought of Pres maybe one hundred times a week in those six years. All those years away should have cured the infatuation. It hadn’t. Not even a tiny bit.
“What about you? Did you bring a boyfriend home with you, Scott?” Preston asked, breaking the heavy silence.
“Nah. I had one about a year ago. We broke up because of jealousy issues.” Scotty decided it was a good time to ask. “You meet anyone new?”
Preston shook his head. “No. I’m enjoying the single life for the moment.”
“Hmm.” Scotty glanced out the window at the street. In a perfect world with both of them single they’d be free to explore the possibility of a relationship. Only the world wasn’t anywhere near perfect. “Why don’t you tell me about Mrs. Windham’s grandson?”
Chapter 2
Preston glanced at his watch.
Nine thirty.
Not a peep came from Scott’s office. Was he even in yet? He hadn’t seen Scott since they’d gone to breakfast the morning before. Preston had been in the office for more than an hour, had seen Jack come in forty-five minutes ago, but he hadn’t seen or heard Scott.
Had Scott been out late last night? Picking up strangers in a bar or something? Preston grimaced. What a fucking judgmental prick he’d become. If Scott had been out with some new lover, it was not Preston’s business. It had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Still…his chest ached just a bit thinking about it. Stupid.
His hand rose of its own accord and rapped lightly on the door.
“Come in.” Scott’s deep voice came from the other side.
Startled, Preston didn’t move for several heartbeats. Then he twisted the knob and opened the door.
Scott sat behind the mahogany desk, dressed in a navy suit jacket that molded to his body. Underneath the jacket he wore a crisp, lighter-blue pinstriped dress shirt and a pale-pink silk tie. Tucked into the pocket of the jacket was a matching pale-pink handkerchief. His dark sandy-blond hair had been expertly combed without a strand out of place. The only sign that Scott was still in there was the stubble covering his face.
Preston stared, knowing his jaw was hanging open but unable to close it. “Holy crap.”
Scott glanced up from the papers in front of him on his desk. He smiled slow and easy. Something pooled in Preston’s stomach that masqueraded as desire.
“Good morning, Pres.”
Preston couldn’t make his mouth work just yet. Couldn’t wrap his mind around the plain fact his cock was now straining against his briefs. He was hard, damn it.
“Pres?”
“Uh, morning,” Preston finally managed to mutter. He had to get out of this office and fast. He did not want Scott to notice his erection and mistake it for…ah, fuck.
“Something wrong?” Scott asked, frowning.
“No. No. No.” Christ, now he was babbling. “I didn’t realize you were in the office yet. Nice job on the suit. Did your dad help you pick it out?”
Scott grinned and shrugged. “He helped a bit. But honestly I think what helped more was watching that show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy before.”
“Well, you look great…er…good. Serious. You look very serious.” His cheeks flamed.
“I’m always serious when I’m going over numbers, Pres,” Scott said, indicating the papers. “Client billings.”
“Right.” Preston blew out a breath carefully. “You’re a CPA, I hear.”
“Yep. I’m not just all looks.”
Preston blinked, realized he still held on to the doorknob and he was squeezing it so tightly he was surprised it didn’t come off in his hand. “So, I’ll see you around, Scott.”
Scott raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Okay. I’ll let you know as soon as I have anything on Mrs. Windham’s grandson.”
“Good.” Preston stepped out into the hall and closed the door of Scott’s office. He was actually shaking. He leaned against the wall a moment.
You’ve just been without sex for too long. No need to panic.
Preston nodded. That really was all there was to it. Sure, he’d had some mild fantasies about Scott before. All men were curious about other men. Weren’t they? It was perfectly natural to check out other guys.
He straightened a
nd headed back to his own office. He had to think of something to make his raging hard-on go away before his next appointment. His ex-wife maybe. Or more specifically, the thought of having to pay alimony would deflate any man.
* * * *
Scotty typed the last number into his spreadsheet just as the door to his office opened again. According to the computer clock it was just past noon. He turned around.
“Hey, kid,” his brother said. Jack closed the door behind him and took the chair in front of Scotty’s desk. “Looking sharp.”
“Thanks.” Scotty wondered if he would ever be anything but kid to his brother. He was an accountant and a licensed private investigator, but to Jack he was kid. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just checking, making sure everything’s okay. You know with Dad only coming in part-time I just want to be sure you’re settling in.”
“No problems so far.” Not work-related anyway. He wasn’t about to tell Jack he was lovesick over Preston.
“Great. Things might get busier soon. We’re thinking of hiring another attorney with Dad only working limited hours. Work’s still piling in,” Jack said. “Hey, you want to grab some lunch?”
“No time. I have a few more bills to go over, and then later this afternoon I need to do some legwork. Maybe later in the week?” Scotty suggested.
“Sure. How are you getting along with Preston? I know he wasn’t happy about the music yesterday.”
“Yeah. Still a pain in the ass.” Scotty grinned. “I promise to keep it down and use my iPod more often. But you know, Jack, honestly, I think I make Preston uncomfortable.”
Jack frowned. “Uncomfortable? Why?”
Scotty toyed with a paperclip, trying to pretend it was no big deal. That it didn’t bother him. “Just vibes. I think it bothers him that I’m gay or something.”
“Well, he’s never struck me as being homophobic, Scotty. You sure?”
“Nah, feelings mostly. I’m guessing maybe you shouldn’t have put my office so close to his.” Scotty swallowed. “It’s probably all right since I’ll be doing fieldwork and everything. I just wanted to bring it up in case it becomes a problem.”