Read Stormy Glenn - Blaecleah Brothers 06 - Cowboy Convenience Online
Authors: Stormy Glenn
John grimaced as he listened to the voice on his answering machine spout off a long series of threats. If even half of what his stalker said he was going to do to him were possible, John would be more worried than he already was.
Still, he couldn’t dismiss the threats all together. They were getting more graphic with each passing day, and they were coming on a nearly daily basis now. In the beginning, John had dismissed the first threat as a prank call. With each new message, the fear that these might not be idle threats had started to fill John.
He had been threatened before. Every law enforcement official probably had. Usually, it was just talk. These were starting to move beyond just talk. He had found a dead cat on his front porch a couple of weeks ago, just as the threat had said.
Mrs. Cleary loved that damn cat.
John had really hoped that it was just some teenager he had busted for drinking or something making threats to get John to drop the charges. This was much worse. These were actual threats against his life and the life of anyone he cared about.
He had liked that cat, which, he suspected, was why the damn thing was now dead. But that also told him that someone was watching him. No one except Mrs. Cleary knew that he secretly fed the cat each night when he got home from work.
If someone was watching him, then anyone he came into contact with outside of his job could be in jeopardy. John’s mind instantly went to the one man that held the power to destroy him if anything happened to him.
Seamus Blaecleah
.
The man made John’s teeth ache just looking at him. Seamus was so breathtaking that the first time he had seen him, John had nearly swallowed his tongue. It hadn’t gotten much better after that. Seamus still had the ability to make John’s breath rush from his lungs with a single look.
Kissing Seamus had been better than any orgasm John had ever experienced. He wanted to do it again and again until they both passed out from lack of oxygen. The fact that Seamus seemed to want his kisses only made things better.
He just needed to deal with this one small situation, and then he could claim Seamus as his heart demanded that he do. The heartache he had seen on Seamus’s face today when he wouldn’t stay for coffee had almost crushed John.
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to spend time with Seamus, but putting him in danger for a few stolen moments wasn’t worth it. Until John figured out who was threatening him and those he cared about—namely Seamus—being with the man could end up in Seamus being hurt or worse.
And nothing was worth that.
He just had to hope Seamus waited for him.
Frustrated beyond belief at the direction his life was going, John pushed his hand through his hair then grabbed the file case he had been working on for the last few weeks. Most of his research and investigation had been done in his off hours because he didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing. If word got out, his investigation could be thwarted, and he knew it.
Sheriff Miller was dirty.
Everyone knew it.
John was going to prove it.
He spent the better part of the next hour going through a collection of files he had brought home from work. He knew the answer was in the old case files somewhere. He just needed to find it.
He came across one particular file that caught his interest. It was a chop shop case, one that supposedly Sheriff Miller had solved, bringing the bad guys to justice and shutting down the chop shop.
The only problem that John saw in the file was that he knew that car repair shop. It had been in business for years. Murphy’s Auto Repair was still in business. If they had been shut down for stealing vehicles and selling them for parts, why were their doors still open?
John absently grabbed his cell phone when it rang. He briefly noted that it was well after ten o’clock at night as he brought the phone to his ear. Who in the hell would be calling this late at night?
“Hey, Sheriff,” the voice on the other end said. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, and at home.”
John groaned just knowing that his night had gotten a lot longer. “It’s okay, Webber. What’s up?”
“The fire chief asked me to call you. He’s at the scene of a suspicious fire and wants you to head on out there.”
“Okay.” John slapped the file closed and stood, reaching for his jacket. “Where am I headed?”
“Murphy’s Auto Repair.”
Yancy groaned and buried his head deeper under his pillow. He felt like he had just gone to bed. The only thing that told him he had gotten more than five minutes of sleep was the incredibly bright light shining through his bedroom window.
He knew he should have gotten shades.
Wait.
Yancy’s eyebrows drew together as he pulled his head out from
under the pillow and lifted it into the air, cocking it slightly to the side so he could hear better. Yancy groaned and dropped his head back down to the pillow, face-first.
Damn
.
Someone was pounding on his front door.
Didn’t people understand the concept of sleep? Who in the hell
would be pounding on his door at this fucking hour and why? They were seriously taking their life into their hands. When the knocking didn’t magically go away, Yancy kicked the covers off and rolled to the side of the bed. He rubbed his sleepy eyes as he climbed to his feet and stumbled down the hallway toward the front door.
He was going to kill someone—slowly and painfully. The surveillance job he had been on last night had taken forever. It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that he had gotten the incriminating pictures his client wanted. He had crawled into bed just as the sun was starting to come up, and he wanted to go back to bed until the damn thing disappeared from sight.
Yancy frowned in confusion. “Seamus?” For a moment, Yancy thought his lack of sleep had conjured up the man of his dreams and put him on the other side of his doorway. At Seamus’s hesitant look, Yancy dragged his hand down his face and tried to remember that Seamus had turned down his invitation to join him in bed—which meant Seamus was here for another reason.
“You said to keep knocking until you answered the door,” Seamus said hesitantly.
Realization slammed into Yancy like a freight train. “Fuck, Seamus, I’m sorry. I was up until about dawn this morning on assignment. I totally spaced that you were coming.”
“Want me to go and come back after you’ve had some sleep?”
“No, man.” Yancy chuckled and stood back. “Come on in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Yancy was positive that he wanted Seamus to come in. He’d prefer it if Seamus came in and continued right on down the hallway to his bedroom, but the man had made it more than clear that he wasn’t looking for anything more than a friend.
So, Yancy would be his friend until Seamus got Sheriff John Riley out of his system…and then he’d move in to fill the empty space the sheriff had left in Seamus’s life.
Idiot.
There really was no other way to describe the sheriff. The man had to be a complete moron. Anyone that knew Seamus Blaecleah could see that he was a catch. Besides the fact that the man was breathtaking with his dark-chocolate-brown hair and deep-emerald eyes, he was smart and funny and just about as hot as he could possibly be.
The sheriff had the chance to snap Seamus up, and he had screwed it up. Yancy wasn’t going to be that stupid. He hadn’t been looking for a relationship when he answered Elijah James’s call for help. The minute he met Seamus, that all changed. The man fit every single one of Yancy’s late-night fantasies and then some.
“Where should I put my bag?” Seamus asked as he turned to look at Yancy.
Yancy almost frowned when he noted the small size of the bag. He had been hoping for something larger, something that might indicate that Seamus would be staying longer. A small bag meant Seamus would be heading home sooner rather than later.
“Just toss it on the floor by the edge of the couch. I’ll clean out a closet for you before we go back for Sunday dinner.” And hopefully convince the man to pack up the rest of his belongings and bring them back.
“Cool.”
Yancy pressed his lips together to keep from groaning when Seamus turned and walked across the room. Could the man’s jeans get any tighter? Yancy had to wonder if Seamus was even getting any oxygen to his brain. His jeans were practically painted on.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Yancy felt his face flush when Seamus caught him gawking. “Yeah, I’m good, man. Just a little tired,” he said quickly, hoping that Seamus hadn’t noticed his slipup. He was supposed to be the man’s friend, not his stalker. “I had to wait hours for this guy to slip off to see his mistress last night.”
“The divorce case?”
Yancy nodded. “Yeah, nasty business.”
“Did you get what you needed?”
Yancy chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I got what I needed and then some. If this doesn’t get the wife what she wants out of the divorce, I’ll eat my detective’s license.”
Seamus grimaced. “That bad?”
Yancy shrugged. “She married a man twenty years younger than her and then put his name on all of her expense accounts. He’s been using her money to fund his little girly parties. I’ve already located three mistresses and a call girl that he sees on a regular basis. His goose is cooked once the wife’s lawyers get a hold of my pictures.”
“Geez, how do you do this day in and day out?” Seamus plopped down on the couch. “I think I’d be pulling my hair out within a week. Doesn’t it make your skin crawl?”
“Not all of my cases are that bad, not really. Most of them are divorce cases, sure, but some of them are a little better than that. I still do a little side work for the department when they need someone to look into something they can’t.”
“I can’t imagine going from police work to taking shots of married couples being unfaithful.” Seamus rubbed his hand over his stomach. His lips turned down at the corners as if he had a nasty taste in his mouth. “It kind of makes me queasy, you know?”
“Not everyone is as happy as your folks or brothers, Seamus. It takes someone special to see what a blessing a marriage is.”
Oh, look at me being all philosophical and shit.
“Do you really see marriage that way?” Seamus asked as he looked up at Yancy, curiosity written all over his raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, I suppose I do. I’ve seen a lot of bad in my line of work, both on the force and off of it. But I’ve also seen a lot of good. Your family is a perfect example. I’ve never met a closer family in my life. No matter what is going on, you all stick together without question.”
Which really made Yancy wonder why Seamus had ever left. Deep down inside, he knew the answer. Seamus had left because of his feelings for John Riley. But Yancy still couldn’t understand why anyone would leave a family like the Blaecleahs. If they belonged to him, he’d never set foot off the ranch.
“Hey, look.” Yancy rubbed the back of his neck and looked anywhere but at Seamus. He didn’t want the man to see how much he wanted him. It wouldn’t make him a very good friend to be lusting after the guy. “I need to get a couple of hours more of sleep. Do you think you can occupy yourself for a little while?”
“You have cable?”
Yancy chuckled. “Hell, yes.”
“Then I’m good.”
Damn right, he was. He was freaking golden. Yancy almost groaned again.
“Cool. The fridge is full, so if you get hungry, go ahead and raid the damn thing. The bathroom is down the hallway, first door on the right. Towels are in the closet at the end of the hall. If you need anything, just knock on my door.”
“I’ll be fine, Yancy.” Seamus smirked. “Go back to bed.”
“Bed.” Yancy inhaled deeply at the thought of Seamus in his bed. “Right. Okay, I’m going.”
Yancy backed up until he ran into the wall, then stumbled as he turned and walked down the hallway. Seamus’s deep, rich laughter followed him the entire way. Yancy closed his bedroom door and leaned his head against the cold wood.
He had no idea when he made the offer for Seamus to crash on his couch that the man would actually take him up on it. Now what was he going to do? He didn’t really know how long he could have Seamus around before he started making passes at the guy.
Hell, at this point he was ready to just outright declare that he wanted Seamus in his bed. And wouldn’t that make him look like a complete idiot. Seamus would probably run screaming all of the way back to his folk’s ranch—and right into Sheriff John Riley’s arms.
Disgusted with his lack of control, Yancy pushed away from the door. He walked across the room and threw himself down on his bed, burying his head under the pillow.
He was so incredibly fucked.
Yancy frowned as slowly he came awake. Something smelled really good, which was strange since Yancy wasn’t much of a cook…and he was still in bed. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. He smelled bacon, eggs, and…cinnamon rolls?
Yancy rolled out of bed again, feeling a sense of déjà vu. He made a quick trip to the bathroom to pee, brushed his teeth, and ran a comb through his hair. He grabbed his jeans off the end of the bed and pulled them up his legs, only remembering that he had greeted Seamus in his boxers as he zipped his pants up.
Oh well.
If Seamus was going to be staying here, he had better get used to it. He was actually kind of lucky. Yancy usually slept in the nude. He’d just been too tired the previous night to pull his boxers off. And wouldn’t that have been interesting if he had answered the door with his cock swinging free?
“Something smells good,” Yancy called out as he walked out of his bedroom. He rounded the corner leading into his kitchen just as Seamus bent over and started to pull something out of the oven.
Yancy groaned and palmed his face. This was never going to work if Seamus kept bending over. The man had a fantastic ass, and it was displayed in his tight jeans every time he moved. Yancy needed to invest in some baggy clothes for Seamus, or some blinders for himself.
“I hope you like cinnamon rolls,” Seamus said as he set a pan on the top of the stove.
“Love ’em.” Hell, he loved anything he didn’t have to cook himself. “It smells great.”
“Take a seat,” Seamus said, pointing to the table with the spatula in his hand. “Everything is just about ready.”
Yancy glanced at the table. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the nicely set table. Two plates sat across from each other. There was a carafe of orange juice, a plate of toast, some eggs, and bacon. Seamus had also included butter, jam, and some sort of white icing.
Seamus hadn’t missed a thing.
“Damn, Seamus, you’re going to make someone a wonderful wife one of these days.”
“Funny.” Seamus bumped Yancy’s shoulder as he walked by with the plate of cinnamon rolls and set them on the table. He sat down in one of the chairs and gestured to the other one. “Well, come on. It’s getting cold.”
Yancy heard his stomach growl as he took the seat Seamus had indicated and scooted it in. Seamus chuckled, and Yancy’s face grew warm. “I don’t usually eat like this.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Besides not really having the time, I’m more likely to poison myself if I try and cook anything that doesn’t come out of a box.” Yancy wiggled his eyebrows and grinned at Seamus. “The microwave is my friend.”
Seamus wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Dude, that shit will kill you.”
“So will my cooking.”
Yancy loaded his plate, making sure he left enough for Seamus to eat. He didn’t want to look like a complete pig, even if he could eat everything in sight without batting an eyelash. He was a big boy with a big stomach.
Yancy took his first bite of the freshly made cinnamon roll and groaned. “Oh my god, Seamus. If you don’t marry me, I’m going to kill myself. I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life.”
“Stop swearing.” Seamus smacked Yancy on the top of his head with a pot holder. “Ma would have your ass in a sling if she heard you talking that way.”
Yancy blinked as he stared at Seamus in shock.
When was the last time someone reprimanded him for his cursing? Hell, when was the last time someone was brave enough to reprimand him for anything? At six and a half feet tall, not many people had that big of balls.
Of course, Yancy didn’t miss the fact that Seamus ignored his marriage proposal. They both knew that he was joking—mostly. Neither of them was ready for a serious relationship, let alone marriage. Yancy kind of wanted to get to know the guy first.
Then
they would talk about marriage.
“Did your ma teach you to make cinnamon rolls?” Yancy asked, just to get the conversation going again.
“No, actually it was my da. Ma can cook with the best of them, but cinnamon rolls are Da’s specialty. He used to make them on Christmas morning before we got up. We looked forward to them all year long.” Seamus suddenly grinned. “I still think of Christmas every time I smell cinnamon. The two just kind of go together.”
“I’ll remember that.” And he would. Yancy didn’t think he would ever forget anything about Seamus. He was fascinated by the man.
“What do you do for Christmas?”
Yancy shrugged. “Watch football, mostly.”
“Football?”
“My father died when I was young, heart attack, and Mom wasn’t big into the holidays. She worked two shifts, one at the hospital and one in a doctor’s office. She was a nurse. She usually took the holiday shifts as well because they paid time and a half.”
Seamus frowned, pausing with the fork halfway to his mouth. “You didn’t celebrate Christmas?”
“I didn’t say that. It was just a bit different than what you’re used to. Mom always made sure that we had a special dinner when she came home, but it wasn’t the big celebration that you all are used to.”
“I’m sorry,” Seamus said as his eyes dropped.
“Don’t be.” Yancy waved his hand dismissively and reached for another cinnamon roll. “Mom worked a lot of hours, but she was home every night to tuck me in and make sure I did my homework.”
“When did you lose her?”
Yancy blinked. “Oh, she’s not dead.”
“But…” Seamus frowned again. “The way you talk about her…”
Damn, he could be such a complete ass sometimes. “Oh no, she’s retired now. She met my stepfather about ten years ago. He was a patient at the doctor’s office where she worked. He took one look at her and fell madly in love, swept Mom right off her feet. They’re on a cruise to Greece right now, living the high life.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad you didn’t lose her. She sounds like she’s a real special lady.”
“She is.” Yancy grinned. “My stepfather isn’t too bad either. He’s not my father, but he tries and he loves Mom, so I guess that’s what’s important. He takes good care of her and makes her happy.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
Yancy shoved a large piece of the cinnamon roll into his mouth to keep from having to say anything else. He was starting to sound like an idiot again. He just needed to keep his mouth shut before he said something totally reckless that he couldn’t take back—like offering Seamus a place in his bed again.
He had served in the Army for six years. He used to be a homicide detective. He had fought bad guys, tracked killers, and had even been shot once. And yet, every time he was around Seamus, he became tongue tied.
He was never going to win Seamus this way. He’d be lucky if Seamus stayed for the rest of the day. With the way that Yancy’s brain seemed to melt every time he looked at the guy, Seamus was sure to think he was insane by sunset.
“So, what do you do around here for fun?”
Oh man.
Yancy rolled his eyes and quickly shoved another piece of cinnamon roll into his mouth.
I am so fucked
.