Nomad

by Lynn Hagen

  “Yeah?”

  The guy’s eyes widened when he looked at Nomad. The stranger took a step back, his gaze darting past Nomad’s shoulder. “Is Stanton home?”

  “And you are?” Nomad asked as Buttercup started to growl. See, even the dog knows this guy is shady.

  “I’m his landlord, Mr. Copley, and he was supposed to return that dog to his aunt. The lease clearly states that he and his roommates aren’t allowed to have pets.” Mr. Copley straightened his shoulders and jutted his chin out. “And they are allowed to have a guest for only five days before they have to ask permission for their guest to stay longer.”

  Nomad looked the man over with cool disregard. “I’ll pass that on. Was there anything else you needed?”

  “Yes. I’m here to inspect the property. I told Mr. Allan I would be by today.”

  Nomad already knew Stanton’s last name was Allan. He’d done a soft search on the guy. He’d done a search on all the mates, just so he knew who was around his brothers.

  But this asshole? Nomad was seconds away from slamming the door in his face.

  “Mr. Copley,” Stanton said from behind Nomad. “You said twenty-four hours. I wasn’t expecting you until this evening.”

  Stanton joined Nomad at his side. Nomad didn’t like the way the landlord was looking Stanton over. Like he was a prime piece of meat the pervert wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of.

  Mr. Copley crossed his arms and gave Nomad a withering glare before he turned his attention back to Stanton. “You still have the dog, and did you take care of the water problem?”

  “Yes.” Stanton nodded while a pale blush crept over his cheeks. “I just got off the phone with them. The water will be back on this afternoon.”

  “And the dog?”

  “He’ll be gone by the time you return for your inspection.”

  Nomad felt Stanton slightly trembling next to him. He wanted to put a protective arm around the male to soothe his anxiety. Instead of that thought making Nomad want to flee, it appealed to him.

  So he slid his arm around Stanton’s waist and glared at Mr. Copley. “Was that all?”

  “Well...I just…” Mr. Copley turned a dark shade of red, as if pissed that he didn’t have anything else to bitch about. “The lawn needs cut, and if your friend is going to be here awhile, you’ll need my permission.”

  “Hayward was just visiting,” Stanton said.

  Nomad never really cared for that name, except when his aunt had used it. He wished his brothers would call him Nomad, but that wasn’t going to happen. But hearing Stanton say it made something stir inside Nomad.

  Without another word, Mr. Copley spun on his heel and stormed down the steps. They watched as he got into his BMW and drove off.

  “Nice guy.” Nomad pulled his arm from around Stanton’s waist.

  “A peach,” Stanton said. “I really did just get off the phone with the water company. Services will be restored this afternoon.” He bit his lip as he looked back toward the front door. “I’ve been thinking about moving. Although I really appreciate your help, the bills are too much here, and I hate my landlord. Do you know he propositioned me last night?”

  That wasn’t a shock to Nomad.

  “He was willing to help me with the water bill, if you get my drift.” Stanton shivered. “I’d rather let my dick fall off.”

  That got a laugh out of Nomad. “God forbid you let that happen. But maybe you’re on to something.”

  “About my dick?” Stanton’s eyes widened. “I was just joking.”

  “About moving,” Nomad said. He didn’t want to keep talking about Stanton’s cock. Not when he was interested in using it in the most wicked of ways.

  * * * *

  “Where the hell were you?” Stevie asked. “Why weren’t you here for the birth of my son?”

  Stanton had already handed Buttercup off to Keller. The dog had acted as if he didn’t want to go, but with Mr. Copley coming by later this evening, Stanton couldn’t be caught with him.

  “What do you mean?” Stanton asked. “No one called me, and when I finally got ahold of Layne, he rushed me off the phone.”

  Stevie glared Layne’s way. “I told you to call him.”

  “I was busy freaking out,” Layne argued. “Besides, when I said Stevie was in labor, I didn’t think I had to extend an invitation. I thought you’d come running.”

  “I didn’t want to get in the way.” And truthfully, Stanton had been waiting for an invitation. He should’ve just brought his butt over regardless of whether anyone had said to come or not. “Can I see him?”

  Stevie beamed as he nodded. The babe was feeding from a bottle as Stanton approached the bed. “Wow, he’s handsome.”

  “Just like his daddy,” Quinn said with nothing but pure pride in his voice. He looked over at Stevie. “I want a little girl next.”

  “You want to shove that request up your—”

  “Language,” Quinn said in a singsong voice. “We got two sets of little ears in the house.”

  “And they can’t understand a word we’re saying right now,” Stevie growled.

  Stanton watched as Quinn kissed up to Stevie, peppering him with kisses, and Stevie melted. Stanton felt so damn jealous. He’d wanted love and affection from his parents, but they were too busy living their lives. His friends loved him, but it wasn’t that special kind of love everyone craved. The kind of love that swept you off your feet and made you feel invincible.

  “Did Mr. Copley seriously hit on you?” Horace asked from across the room. He was sitting in the rocking chair, looking as if he’d swallowed a baby whale.

  Stanton rolled his eyes. “The creep offered to trade services with me.”

  Layne’s brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell us you needed help with the bills?” He shook his head. “That was a dumb question. I guess we all got caught up in our new lives and didn’t think about it.”

  “I can help you,” Stevie said.

  “We all can,” Horace replied. “That was crappy of us to bail on you like that.”

  Stanton was taken aback when Horace began to cry. He rushed over and stood to the side of his friend, hugging him.

  “Don’t mind him,” Layne said. “He’s hormonal. He cries when someone drinks the last of the juice.”

  “It’s okay.” Stanton patted Horace’s back. “You cry all you want.”

  “T-Thanks.” Horace wiped at his eyes. “I feel like a big w-wuss.”

  “I appreciate everyone’s offer, but I’m squared away,” Stanton said then winced. He shouldn’t have said that. Now they would want to know where he’d gotten the money, and he didn’t want to let them know that he’d taken on Nomad as a roommate.

  “How?” Layne asked.

  “A loan.” Stanton held up his hands. “Not a big deal. Besides, I’m thinking about moving into a smaller place.”

  He still had to talk that over with Nomad. Right now he was footing all the bills, and as far as Stanton was concerned, Nomad should have a say in where they lived.

  Stanton also needed to go job hunting. He felt horrible not carrying his weight and didn’t want the burden to lie on Nomad’s shoulders for too long.

  “It’s celebration time,” Stanton said, hoping to change the subject. “What did you name the little fella?”

  “James O’Brien.” Stevie beamed again.

  Stanton went back to the bed and sat on the side of it as Quinn said something about letting Stevie visit with his friends. “Can I hold him?”

  Stevie showed him how since Stanton didn’t have any experience with children. He tucked the babe close, smiling down at him.

  “Hi, James. I’m Uncle Stanton. The best uncle of them all.”

  “You wish,” Horace said.

  “Please.” Layne rolled his eyes.

  When Stanton saw movement by the bedroom door, he glanced that way and spotted Nomad watching him. The guy had a weird look in his eyes before he walked away.

  “I wonder
where he disappears to,” Layne said. “He hasn’t been around much over the past few days.”

  “Who?” Stanton played stupid.

  “Nomad,” Stevie said. “Quinn saw him packing an overnight bag, and when he asked where he was going, Nomad just shrugged.”

  Stanton had been right. Nomad was a private guy and didn’t want anyone to know his business, and it wasn’t Stanton’s place to rat on him.

  Stanton kissed James’s forehead before he gave the baby back. “I have to go.”

  “Why?” Horace whined. “You just got here.”

  Mr. Copley was coming by for his inspection, and Stanton didn’t want to be gone. For all he knew, the jerk would let himself in, and he still wasn’t sure what he would say about the empty bedrooms or why Nomad was still there.

  “I have to work,” he lied. Stanton hugged Stevie then Layne and Horace. Besides, Nomad would be cooking dinner soon, and Stanton wouldn’t miss that treat for anything in the world.

  “We’re having a get-together Saturday for your birthday,” Layne said to Stanton. “Don’t even think of not coming. It’s not anything fancy, but Keller talked Nomad into cooking for you.”

  “And you’ve gotta try his cooking,” Horace said. “It’s to die for.”

  Stanton already had firsthand knowledge. He just smiled. “Then I guess I better be here.”

  Stanton left, telling them he would return Saturday. He didn’t feel so lonely going home, not since Nomad had moved in. Partially, anyway. Stanton wasn’t sure if Nomad would go home tonight or stay again.

  Secretly, Stanton was hoping the guy spent the night once more. The house felt less empty when he was there, and Stanton liked having company.

  He drove home and pulled in just as Mr. Copley parked at the curb. Fuck. He was hoping for time to straighten up, maybe throw some of his clothes into the other rooms just so they would look lived in.

  After taking a deep breath, Stanton got out and met the douchebag on the porch.

  Chapter Four

  Nomad was exhausted. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and now he was hidden in one of the rooms as Mr. Copley did his inspection. He didn’t want to get Stanton into trouble by being there, even if Stanton had talked of moving.

  Why rock the boat?

  But he wasn’t going to leave Stanton alone with the creep. Before he’d been captured, Nomad had come across some shady men who cared nothing about permission. They took what they wanted without regard for anyone else.

  Mr. Copley reminded Nomad of those people. He wasn’t as aggressive as some, but his true intentions were there, hidden under a grimy façade.

  He had a notepad with him, jotting things down at he inspected the living room. Nomad knew this because he’d slipped from the bedroom he’d been in for a sneak peek. As Mr. Copley wrote, his gaze kept straying to Stanton.

  And Stanton was oblivious to it all. God, Nomad was gonna have to teach the male situational awareness, because he was busy looking at his phone instead of paying attention to his landlord’s deviant gazes.

  “Where’re your roommates?” Mr. Copley asked as he looked around. Nomad ducked back, keeping out of sight, but he could still hear their conversation.

  “They’ll be back soon. Horace is working, and Stevie and Layne went to the store.”

  The guy was smart enough to let Mr. Copley know they wouldn’t be alone for long, but Nomad had a feeling that wouldn’t stop the scumbag.

  “I admire the way you handled your utilities,” Mr. Copley said.

  “We handled,” Stanton corrected. “Everyone pitched in, and we got them paid.”

  “And your rent? It’s due pretty soon. Do you think you’ll have the full amount or…”

  Nomad didn’t like the way he’d left the rest of his sentence open for interpretation. He wanted to wrap his hands around the guy’s throat and choke the shit out of him. That was exactly why he’d stuck around.

  Nomad also couldn’t get the image out of his head of Stanton holding James. He’d looked so natural at it, and was surprised he’d never held an infant before.

  “Or what?”

  Stanton’s voice pulled Nomad out of his thoughts. Was the male that dense, or was he playing it off so Mr. Copley would drop the subject?

  “Or that offer still stands,” Mr. Copley said. “I’d be happy to help you knock off some of the rent in a pleasurable way.”

  Nomad had heard enough. He prayed he didn’t gut the bastard as he quietly made his way to a bedroom, crawled through the window, and hurried to the front door.

  He had to slow his breathing and tamp down his rage as he rang the doorbell. Nomad rolled his shoulders and put on a smile as Stanton answered the door. His eyes widened when he saw Nomad.

  “I thought you were just in—”

  To stop Stanton from giving him away, Nomad pulled the male into his arms and gave him a thorough kiss. It was meant for show, to let Mr. Copley know that Stanton was taken so the perv would stop coming onto him, but the kiss backfired, igniting a burning desire in Nomad’s gut.

  When he finally pulled back, Stanton appeared breathless.

  “Hey, babe. Are we still on for dinner?” Nomad looked past Stanton and saw Mr. Copley watching them. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot he was stopping by for the inspection.”

  “Come in.” Stanton sort of wobbled, his fingers pressing against his lips as Nomad brushed past him and gave Mr. Copley a short, quick nod.

  “Well, everything looks in order.” Mr. Copley gave Nomad a narrowed-eyed look. “Where exactly do you live?”

  Nomad stuck his hand out, although he’d rather have punched the creep. “Hayward O’Brien.”

  The guy’s eyes widened. “You’re an O’Brien?”

  Nomad nodded and let his hand drop before Mr. Copley could shake it. He didn’t want the guy touching him or he just might lose his shit and slug the bastard for the sexual suggestion he’d made to Stanton.

  He stood there with his arm still curled around Stanton’s waist, making sure Mr. Copley got the message. “You’ve heard of my family?”

  “I knew Beatrice.” Mr. Copley tucked his notepad under his arm. Nomad was dying to see what the man had written. He doubted it had anything to do with the inspection. “She used to go on and on about her nephews.”

  Hearing how proud she’d been of them—even though Nomad had known that already—gutted him. If he hadn’t been captured, he could’ve been there for her in her final days, making sure she wasn’t alone in the end.

  And he definitely didn’t want this asshat talking about her. His teeth gnashed just hearing her name come out of his mouth. He didn’t want a lowlife saying Beatrice’s name.

  “I’ve also heard about the O’Brien boys,” Mr. Copley said. Trepidation entered his eyes. “Which one of you is known as Nomad? I heard some scary things about him.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Nomad said. “I’m sure we’ve all grown up to become upstanding adults.”

  Mr. Copley eyed him as Stanton patted Nomad’s chest, warmth spreading where Stanton’s hand touched. “This is Nomad.”

  The color drained from Mr. Copley. “Yes, well. I think I’m done here. Maintain the house and no pets. Also, keep your bills current. Say hello to Layne, Stevie, and Horace for me.”

  They stepped aside as Mr. Copley rushed for the door. When he was gone, Stanton spun and burst out laughing. “That was priceless! He couldn’t get out of here fast enough once he learned who you were.”

  That fucking smile was going to be Nomad’s undoing. Over the past few days, thoughts of Stanton had dominated his head, and he couldn’t seem to purge those thoughts.

  “Glad I could help. Now I need to start dinner.” Nomad had to leave the room before he stole another kiss. Stanton had said hands off when it came to roommates, and Nomad wasn’t going to violate that rule.

  Even if his cock argued otherwise.

  * * * *

  It was all an act. Nomad had come to Stanton’s resc
ue. There was nothing more to it. But as Stanton sat in the cracked lawn chair, he couldn’t stop pressing his fingers to his lips.

  It might’ve been for show, but damn could the guy kiss. Stanton’s body had come alive when their lips had touched, and he couldn’t seem to get it back under control. All he thought about was marching back into the kitchen where Nomad was cooking, stripping himself naked, and spreading himself out over the table and offering himself as Nomad’s meal.

  “Crap,” Stanton murmured. He pressed the palm of his hand into his erection, willing it to go away. Why did Nomad have to be such a damn good kisser? This was Nomad’s fault. All his fault for being so fucking sexy.

  Too bad Buttercup wasn’t here to serve as a distraction. Stanton would rather be running around the yard yelling at the dog than sitting there pining for someone who just wanted someplace to chill.

  He wasn’t even sure if Nomad was into him. If that kiss had been pretend, Stanton was desperate to find out how the man really kissed. He just bet fireworks exploded.

  They had for Stanton.

  He also didn’t like the fact that he really liked Nomad—and was attracted to the guy in ways that bothered him—despite his deadly looks and fierce reputation. Stanton was starting to see that was a mask Nomad wore to ward people away.

  There was no doubt that Nomad liked to be alone, but he also had a wall around him that he didn’t let people past. Stanton wanted to know the reasons, and he wanted to get to know Nomad better. The guy just seemed so damn lonely, and Stanton knew how the guy felt.

  He quickly moved his hand away from his groin when Nomad opened the back door. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Stanton wished he had more time to make his erection go away, but Nomad stood there waiting for him. He tucked his shirt as low as it would go when he stood and crossed the yard.

  “This looks incredible,” Stanton said after he’d washed his hands at the sink and took a seat at the table. “You’re going to spoil me rotten with your cooking.”

  Stanton’s heart sped when Nomad winked at him. “Then let the spoiling begin.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? Stanton felt himself blush as he picked up his fork and dove into the creamy mashed potatoes. Next he tried the chicken-flavored noodles, which were also heavenly. Then Stanton used his knife to slice into the steak.