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Authors: Jade Archer

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BOOK: Sandpipers' Secrets
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“It’s fine. I got this under control now,” Brody quickly replied, refusing to look away from the chopping board. He’d probably take his fingers off if he did right now.

“Yeah. Brody’s a quick study. He’s fine,” Zak added.

“But—”

“Come on, Lark. I’ve got something to show you.” Zak started dragging Lark away before the smaller man could make any further protest or an excuse to stay.

Brody was extremely grateful. Okay, perhaps a little disappointed, but mostly grateful.

Stilling the knife in his hand, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep, cleansing breath. He was pretty sure he should quit.

Walking away and avoiding the trouble his intense attraction to the men was sure to cause seemed like the smart thing to do. Unfortunately, he simply couldn’t afford to do that. This job was the answer to a desperate man’s prayers. Someone just seemed to have gone a bit overboard with the generosity.

Having two guys like Lark and Zak as his bosses seemed…well, almost cruel to be honest.

But then, maybe everything would be all right now. Brody had felt the change in Zak. He’d sensed the instant the man had drawn away from him. Become cold and distant. Not mean, just…professional. In a lot of ways it was a huge relief.

Now, if only he could imitate that calm control. He should be able to keep his interactions between himself and the two men polite but cool.

Cool was good. Cool might have some chance of damping down the heat he felt in his pants every time he was in the same room with them. Of course, getting Lark to agree to the plan was starting to look like a long shot. Brody only had his observations of the smaller man to go on, but he definitely didn’t come across as the sort of person to take a step back, or miss even the smallest opportunity or encouragement.

Watching Lark had become one of his favourite pastimes, actually. Whenever he was in the same room as the man, Brody found his eyes automatically tracking to Lark. He drank the man in like a camel after a ten-day desert trek. Lark’s energy and vitality drew him in. The way he moved. The way he was almost always laughing and smiling. The way he sometimes sought Zak out just to share a moment—a look, a word or a brief touch.

Suddenly, the memory of Zak’s big calloused hand, resting and caressing against his skin, sent a shiver of need down Brody’s spin. It had been so good. He fully admitted he had let himself indulge and enjoy the touch for a moment. Such strong hands. The thought of Zak throwing him down and taking him had nearly had him coming right then and there.

Glancing up to make sure Zak hadn’t noticed was the worst mistake he could have made. For those first few, powerful seconds, they had connected. It was obvious, to both of them how attracted they were to each other, and just as obvious that it couldn’t come to anything. The shuttered, closed off look that had replaced Zak’s long, hot stare had almost brought Brody to his knees.

But he was right. They needed some distance, needed to keep things cool and professional. Zak had a good thing going with Lark. More than a good thing. It was precious. Brody couldn’t come between that.

He wouldn’t come between them.

Chapter Four

Lark had never been so glad to get to the end of a Saturday night close. It had been a hell of a shift—busy, noisy and with enough back-to-back bookings to keep him hopping. But the restaurant wasn’t to blame for the current knot of tension settling in between his shoulder blades and cruising up to cramp his neck muscles. That special honour resided solely with two very stubborn, suspiciously absent men.

Pushing the menus back into their pigeonhole below the front desk, Lark looked around the now peaceful room. The wait-staff were milling around, finishing off the last of their jobs.Rio and Gus were chatting with the barman, and Dave and Andy had just pushed through the kitchen door, heading straight for their favourite little waitress, Jaime. It was time to make his move.

Lark strode through the dim restaurant—head held high, determination etched into every step as he made his way towards the kitchen. He wasn’t too proud to admit he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d tried to be accommodating and wait for Zak and Brody to stop dancing around one another. He’d truly wanted to let the men get over whatever it was that was bothering them about the situation. But he’d run out of patience now. Nothing was happening, and he was going out of his mind watching Zak become more silent and stoic while Brody got more nervous and jittery.

Actually, Lark was rather surprised he’d lasted this long. They’d been around each other two weeks now. The hormone overload alone was threatening to send him over the edge. But neither Zak nor Brody seemed willing to admit to the scorching attraction between them. It was hot watching them eye each other—the long, lustful looks, the heat that rose in both man’s cheeks when they were caught looking—but it was time to call it.

So now Lark was on a mission. Or maybe a hunt might be a more appropriate analogy. Whatever it was, he’d run out of patience with the ambiguity and self-doubt, longing looks and frustrating hesitation.

He was moving on to the fun stuff, even if he had to drag both men kicking and screaming.

Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration. Not to mention a ridiculous impossibility. Lark didn’t think he’d be able to drag either man very far against his will, especially since Lark probably didn’t weight much more than Zak’s left leg. But he was getting to work on sorting out just where everyone stood and what they all wanted. Because the three of them fighting their growing desire for each other just wasn’t the way Lark wanted to expend his energy. He had much more…creative ideas about what they could
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be doing.

If I can just get the other two to stop hiding from this!

Of course, it would help if he could find Brody right now. The sweet little kitchen hand haunted his dreams with his piercing pale blue eyes, tall lean frame and absolutely gorgeous, unruly mane of dark blond hair, but he certainly didn’t haunt the restaurant. He could be found there only when on duty. And Brody’s shift was over, so if Lark didn’t track him down soon, Brody was likely to slip out the door again right under his nose.

He was frustratingly good at that. And with the busy Saturday night trade done for the week, it only left tonight and tomorrow to figure something out. Otherwise, another three whole days would pass before Lark could get a chance to corner him about this. And Lark couldn’t stand the thought of waiting that long.

Unfortunately, even after tackling Brody, he’d still have to work on Zak—which was going to be a completely different battle altogether. Lark knew Zak was attracted to Brody every bit as much as he was. The man could hardly keep his eyes off the luscious, sex-on-a-stick dishwasher. Zak just refused to admit it. And every time Lark had tried to talk about Brody, Zak had changed the subject or found something urgent that needed doing somewhere else. Infuriating man!

It was quite astonishing, really, to think of Zak—the normally staid and sensible man he loved—being as taken with Brody as he was. Zak wasn’t the sort to have a roving eye. It wasn’t in his makeup. Lark, on the other hand, took every opportunity he could get to appreciate a fine looking man.

In fact, he thought that Zak’s inability to stop looking at Brody was a good sign that this was something that was meant to be. They were meant to explore this unexpected situation.

Lark was a bit vague on the whole coincidence versus destiny thing, but he did know that this felt right.

So he was going for it.

Lark made his way to the office and breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of Brody. Thank goodness. The man he’d set his sights on hadn’t somehow managed to give him the slip.

Actually, it was more a stifled moan of appreciation than a sigh of relief. Lark watched Brody, who stood by the small row of lockers along the office’s far wall. Head bent, hands on his hips, looking down at his feet, he was stunning. Like one of those hunky men they posed shirtless in the cowboy calendars.

All he needed was the battered hat tilted casually over his eyes and the boots. Oh! And one of those coy smiles Lark always found himself drooling over. Actually, Brody would look amazing wearing one of those smiles—and nothing else.

Brody dropped to one knee to fiddle with his laces. Lark couldn’t help but imagine what else the man might be able to accomplish in that position.

Brody was absolutely exhausted. Every muscle ached; and if he never saw another soap bubble or dirty pan again, he’d be a very happy man. Unfortunately, he would have to come back and do it all again tomorrow.

Paycheque, Brody. Paycheque, he reminded himself sternly, hating the fact he was whining about being stiff and sore when only a couple of weeks ago he’d been desperate enough to start thinking about
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turning tricks in some dark alley somewhere just to keep a roof over their heads.

Looking down, he noticed that one of his bootlaces had come undone. For a second, he considered leaving it. It really did seem like too much effort to bend down and retie it at the moment. But on second thought, the last thing he needed was to trip over it and break something. It would be hard to earn a paycheque with a broken arm, especially since he spent most of his shift elbows-deep in hot water.

Groaning, he dropped down and started working on the ratty laces. After he finished, he took a few extra seconds to try and find enough energy and enthusiasm to stand back up again.

“Are you okay?” Lark asked from the doorway, startling Brody enough that he bounced right back up to stand—and banged his arm painfully on his open locker door.

Ah, shit! That hurt!

He’d nearly done himself exactly the sort of serious injury he’d been trying to avoid. Fucking shoelaces.

Jumping up like that was a stupid thing to do, but Brody really wanted to hide his exhaustion. He didn’t want his boss thinking he was weak or some sort of pathetic loser that couldn’t even hack the first few weeks in a new job.

Lark crossed the room with a slight frown of worry on his face and reached out to touch his arm.

Brody nearly moaned when he felt Lark’s small hand caress his forearm, stroking over the light covering of hairs there and sending warmth coursing through him.

Even after two weeks Brody was still having a disturbingly powerful reaction to the man. At first he thought it was because he hadn’t been laid in so long. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Just when Brody had almost managed to get his reaction under control enough to start speaking without embarrassing himself, Zak walked into the room. Brody could have cursed in frustration. Were they trying to kill him here? What was it about these two men that got him all hot and bothered and sent blood pumping straight to his overeager cock every time? He couldn’t be in the same room with the two of them without popping wood. It was an eternal source of embarrassment and a constant worry that they would figure him out and toss him out the door—with Zak’s extra large boot mark on his ass.

Zak frowned at him, and Brody’s thoughts turned to how it must look, the way Lark was touching him.

He took a hasty step away from Lark, afraid the bigger man was about to take issue with the contact.

“Hey! Brody are you all right?” Zak asked.

He was concerned about me, not what we were doing. Fuck, this is making me crazy!

Brody was glad he hadn’t made an idiot of himself trying to explain the innocence of Lark’s actions. It wasn’t as if he could claim the same innocent feelings towards either man, but he didn’t ever want them to figure that out.

Brody answered Zak’s question by nodding his head absently. He was making an idiot of himself. Why would Zak feel threatened by him? There was just no comparison between the two of them. The man was gorgeous. A walking sex god! No way would he ever be a threat to him physically. And he had seen the way Lark looked at the man, too. He adored Zak. They shared heated glances and long, loving stares.

Suddenly, Brody had to get out. He wasn’t ready to analyse the way he was feeling right now, but he was pretty certain it had a lot to do with that nasty little green eyed monster called jealously. Trouble was he wasn’t sure who he was more jealous of, Zak or Lark. He had the sinking feeling it might be both.

Either way, he hated the feeling. He liked Lark and Zak. They were good people. Nice. Generous.

Sexy…Fuck!

“I…ahh…I’m fine,” Brody stammered, stepping away from both men, not quite able to met their eyes.

“I-I have to go. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Brody—” Lark started to call out to him, but Zak cut him off.

“Okay, Brody. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brody didn’t hang around long enough to hear what Lark said to Zak. He hustled out of the room. He really wasn’t ready to hear the two of them talking about him—questioning his strange behaviour, wondering if he was going to be able to keep up and do the job. Brody was determined that he would.

He just had to prove it to everyone, including himself.

As he pushed his way through the kitchen doors, Brody saw the rest of the staff collecting their stuff and filing out the door underRio ’s watchful eyes. Brody shook his head. The man acted like a prison warder.

And wasn’t that just a blast from the past.

“Come on, Brody,”Rio commanded. An impatient prison warder.

As Brody trudged wearily over to follow the others out, he compulsively checked his coat pocket for his wallet. He felt his heart stutter in his chest when his hand met only the cool, smooth, and empty lining of his jacket.

Oh, shit, I have to go back.He must have been so preoccupied with making sure Lark and Zak didn’t notice his hard-on as he got away from them as fast as possible, that he hadn’t heard his wallet fall out somewhere between the kitchen office and the front door.

Brody froze in his tracks. There was no way he was leaving without his wallet.

BOOK: Sandpipers' Secrets
7.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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