Read Speechless (Pier 70 #3) Online
Authors: Nicole Edwards
Speechless (Pier 70 #3) (30 page)
Epilogue
Saturday, October 8
th
“I NEVER WOULDA pegged you for a hockey fan,” Teague told Hudson as they made their way out of the stands.
Gannon had managed to get them all tickets—fucking fantastic ones at that—for the first home game of the season for the Austin Arrows. Turned out Gannon had an in with the Arrows’ owner, Phoenix Pierce.
Who doesn’t like men on skates chasing pucks with sticks?
Teague chuckled. That certainly wasn’t how he saw the game, but whatever.
“We really goin’ to meet the players?” he asked, glancing over at Roan, who was walking along beside him.
Teague was pretty sure Roan had a stick lodged up his ass tonight. He’d been incredibly weird, and no one seemed to know why. Granted, Roan wasn’t the most talkative all the time, but when he was having a good time, he could get carried away. That didn’t seem to be the case tonight.
“Yep,” Dare said. “We get to meet ’em all tonight. You probably don’t remember, but a group of ’em came out to the lake back in June.” Dare glanced over at Roan. “I remember that because you suddenly had something come up, and I got to hang with them for the afternoon. Definitely your loss.”
Roan didn’t even acknowledge Dare, which was interesting.
Teague followed the group, walking close to Hudson as he did. Although he liked the idea of meeting the players, he really wanted to get home. He missed Charger and hated leaving the little guy for too long while he was out. Granted, Charger probably enjoyed being alone for a little while, but still. Teague wasn’t fond of it. Charger did have full run of both apartments since, as of last week, Teague had officially moved into Hudson’s bed. He hadn’t moved his things over, and they were still paying rent for both apartments above the marina, but he was sleeping like a baby right next to the big guy every single night. It was working out nicely for them just to utilize both places as they needed.
“Hey, guys,” Phoenix greeted them when they made it to the corridor they’d been advised to go to. “Glad y’all could make it. Enjoy the game?”
“Immensely,” Cam replied. “Your boys are lookin’ good out there this year.”
Everyone knew that the Austin Arrows had had a shit season last year. Like, totally fucked up. They’d gone from winning the Stanley Cup the year before to not even making the playoffs last year. In fact, Teague was pretty sure Cam had said they’d come in last place. First to last. It’d been brutal. Teague only knew because Roan and Cam were hockey fans and they’d talked about it.
“Not too shabby,” Phoenix agreed. “A shutout is definitely the way to start a season. Come on, I’ll introduce you to those that I can.”
Everyone followed behind Cam and Gannon, but Teague noticed that Roan was slowly working his way to the back of the group. Before he could slip past him, Teague elbowed him in the arm.
“Going somewhere? Looks to me like you’re trying to hide from someone.” Teague made a show of looking around, trying to see what, or who, Roan could possibly be running from.
“Shut the hell up,” Roan muttered.
Teague chuckled. “Not all that fun to get your balls busted, huh?”
Phoenix spoke up. “Guys, I’m sure he doesn’t need an introduction, but this is Spencer Kaufman, the Arrows captain.”
Cam shook Spencer’s hand, his face lighting up like this was Christmas or something.
“And that over there is Kingston Rush, the man in the net.”
All eyes slid to where Kingston was currently talking to a reporter.
Phoenix started walking until he stopped at another group of men. He began rattling off names, introducing them to the players as his friends.
“And this right here is the man of the night,” Phoenix noted. “Colton Seguine, defense. Colton, these are some friends of mine. They own a marina out on Lake Buchanan.”
Something sparked in Colton’s eyes as he looked from face to face. Teague was fascinated watching as he searched for … something. Rightfully so, because those eyes continued to roam until they suddenly stopped.
Right on Roan’s face.
Well, son of a bitch.
There was definitely some recognition there.
Teague glanced over, noticing that Roan was staring at the floor, not making eye contact.
Definitely something going on between those two.
“Again, thanks for coming out tonight. Tickets for the games are yours whenever you want them,” Phoenix said to the group. “I’ve gotta go catch up with my husband and wife. I’m sure they’re looking for me.”
Teague glanced at Hudson, trying to figure out if he’d heard Phoenix correctly.
Husband
and
wife. Damn. How crazy did you have to be to sign up for that shit?
Hudson shrugged as though reading Teague’s mind. Teague looked at Hudson’s hands when he signed:
You ready to head out now?
Teague smiled, then signed back so that he could keep the conversation between the two of them.
The only thing I caught was head. Is that an offer?
Be careful, kid. You don’t want to taunt me too much.
“Oh, but I do,” he said, still grinning up at his man. “I most certainly do.”
And that was exactly what Teague did for the entire drive back to the marina.
He did it with a smile on his face, in fact.
Oh, and also with Hudson’s dick in his mouth.
Not for the first time, they’d both been speechless.
In more ways than one.
♥▫▫▫▫♥▫▫▫▫♥
I hope you enjoyed Hudson and Teague’s story. Speechless is the third book in the Pier 70 series. I started writing their story shortly after I finished Fearless because I felt it needed to be told. It wasn’t easy for me, but at the same time, it ended up being therapeutic during a particularly low point for me.. You can read more about Pier 70 and the sexy boys who run the marina
here
.
Want to see some fun stuff related to the Pier 70 series, you can find
extras
on my website. Or how about what’s coming next? I keep my website updated with the books I’m working on, including the
writing progression of what’s coming up for the Pier 70 series
.
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Dear Reader,
This book touched on some very sensitive subjects, including suicide and depression, all of which should not be taken lightly.
If you or someone that you know suffers from depression or has thoughts of suicide, please, I encourage you to seek professional help.
If you are in crisis, call 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org
For more information or resources on suicide prevention:
American Foundation for Suicide Prevention
Acknowledgments
I have to thank my family first, for putting up with my craziness. From my sudden outbursts when I think of something that needs to be added or when I question why one of the characters did what they did, to the strange hours that I keep and the days on end when I’m MIA because I’m under deadline or just engrossed in a story… Y’all are incredibly tolerant of me and for that, I am forever grateful. I love you with all that I am.
My street team – The Naughty & Nice Posse. Ladies, your daily pimping and support fills my heart with so much love. You are a blessing to me, each and every one of you.
My beta readers, Chancy and Denise. Ladies, I’m not sure thanks will ever be enough. However, not only are you the ones who catch the weird things and ask the bigger questions, you’ve both become my friends and you keep me going.
My copyeditor, Amy. Punctuation and grammar… well, that’s not my strong suit. But it is yours and you are truly remarkable at what you do. You simply amaze me and I am so glad that I found you.
Nicole Nation 2.0 for the constant support and love. This group of ladies has kept me going for so long, I’m not sure I’d know what to do without them.
And, of course, YOU, the reader. Your emails, messages, posts, comments, tweets… they mean more to me than you can imagine. I thrive on hearing from you, knowing that my characters and my stories have touched you in some way keeps me going. I’ve been known to shed a tear or two when reading an email because you simply bring so much joy to my life with your support. I thank you for that.
About Nicole
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author Nicole Edwards lives in Austin, Texas with her husband, their three kids, and four rambunctious dogs. When she’s not writing about sexy alpha males, Nicole can often be found with her Kindle in hand or making an attempt to keep the dogs happy. You can find her hanging out on Facebook and interacting with her readers - even when she’s supposed to be writing.
Nicole also writes contemporary/new adult romance as Timberlyn Scott.
Nicole would love to hear from you!
Keep reading for an excerpt from:
Never Say Never
Sniper 1 Security, #2
Nicole Edwards
Gay romance
M/M interaction
Release Date: August 18, 2015
Ryan Trexler has devoted his entire life to his family’s security business. And now
that he’s slated to take over the reins for the company, RT knows that his life is only going to get more complicated. Add in the fact that he’s lusting over one of the men who works for him and RT knows that there are some serious tough times ahead.
Zachariah Tavoularis—nicknamed Z—has been employed by Sniper 1 Security for a decade. Despite being known as the most loyal enforcer outside of family, Z also has a reputation of being quite the playboy, though that was based more on rumor than fact. When an assignment comes up that forces the two of them to work together, Z knows it’s time to show RT he’s not the man he thinks he is.
Can they complete the mission, despite the fact that it puts them in a tenuous situation, bringing them closer than either of them ever expected? And will Z allow RT to convince him that they can never be together, no matter how much they both want it?
Prologue
Three years ago
“What the hell were you thinking?” Ryan yelled, unable to contain the anger that surged through him as he stared back at the man who was responsible for getting two of Ryan’s enforcers killed in recent days.
Kevin’s answering stare was blank, lacking any emotion whatsoever.
“You blew their cover and damn near got Trace and Z killed! Why the
fuck
would you do that?”
Still no answer.
Ryan thrust his hands through his hair, tugging hard on the shaggy blond strands as he turned on his heel and paced away from Kevin, hoping to keep from wrapping his fingers around the man’s throat and…squeezing.
How could someone be so fucking reckless? So careless? So goddamn stupid?
It was almost as though Kevin didn’t give a shit that he’d fucked up so epically. That was one of the main reasons Ryan had held off on having this conversation until today—four days after the shit had hit the fan.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t put it off any longer or he’d likely do just that.
“Are we done here?” Kevin asked, his tone hard.
Ryan turned to look at him, stunned by how uncouth the man was being. “No, we’re not fucking done here,
Kevin
. Were you
not
thinking? Did you not consider what the hell you were doing? The lives you were putting in jeopardy?”
When Kevin didn’t respond, Ryan had to hold back the frustrated groan that wanted to break free. Not sure what to say or do, Ryan walked behind his desk, but he didn’t sit down. He couldn’t. There was too much anger built up, too many emotions tearing him in a million different directions. Disappointment, fear, frustration. Incredulity. A fucking ton of incredulity.
“Look,” Kevin began. “I’ve got shit to do. So if you’re done ripping me a new one, we can talk about this at home later.”
Ryan stared back at the man standing before him, a man Ryan no longer recognized although they’d been dating for the better part of three years. He’d met Kevin in this very same building nearly five years ago when Kevin had come to work for Sniper 1 Security.
“No, we won’t,” Ryan countered hotly. “I… Fuck! I don’t even know what the hell to say to you right now.”
“Don’t say anything,” Kevin told him, a hint of concern echoing in the words. “Let’s talk when you calm down.”
“That’s the thing, Kevin. You don’t fucking get it. I won’t calm down. You almost got two people killed.”
Kevin’s usually pale skin heated, his cheeks turning crimson. “I did what I thought was best. Are you sure you’re not just pissed because it was Trace and Z?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Ryan squared his shoulders and faced off with Kevin. “It wouldn’t’ve mattered who the hell it was.”
“Are you sure about that?” Kevin snapped, his green eyes glittering with menace. “I’ve seen the way you look at Z. You’ve got a hard-on for the guy. Even I can see that.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.” Ryan knew this conversation was going nowhere, but leave it to Kevin to turn it around on him. For the three years they’d been dating, Kevin had grown more and more insecure with every passing day. He was jealous, so much so that Ryan had heard a few offhanded comments from others recently. It was clear that Kevin had allowed emotion to interfere with his ability to do his job and he could no longer be objective. That or… Holy fuck. “Did you do this on purpose?” Ryan took a step closer. “Did you fucking blow their cover because you’re jealous?”
“
What
? No!” Kevin’s gaze dropped to the floor, a clear sign of guilt.
“Christ. I can’t believe I didn’t see this before.” Ryan paced away from Kevin, fury causing his hands to shake. He suddenly didn’t want to be in the same room with him.
“See what?” Kevin retorted, his voice louder this time. “You can’t see a goddamn thing, RT. You’re too busy worrying about your precious career, your stupid job, this
stupid
company. You don’t give a shit about me at all, do you?”
Ryan stared at Kevin in disbelief. Three years. Three fucking years he’d given to this man, trying his best to make it work despite their differences, despite Kevin’s jealousy, his anger, his short fuse. “This is my company, Kevin! Those people”—Ryan stabbed his finger toward the door—“are my employees. I owe it to them to be worried about their safety.”
“
Them
? What about
me
?” Kevin yelled. “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried about
me
?”
“Of course I am.” Ryan couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was one they’d gone round and round about many times before. Kevin would never be satisfied with the fact that Ryan had to worry about someone other than him.
They continued to stare at one another, and during those interminably long seconds, Ryan felt his world crumbling around him. Not that he hadn’t been anticipating it. For the last few months, he’d been trying to find a way to break things off with Kevin. He’d given the relationship everything he had. But now he no longer had anything left to give.
Kevin’s face fell, his anger seeming to subside. “We can talk about this later tonight.”
“No, Kevin, we can’t,” Ryan told him. “There’s nothing more to discuss. I’m meeting with Bryce and Casper again this afternoon after I talk to Z. They’ll be making the decisions going forward.”
“What does that mean? Decisions? Are you firing me?”
Ryan didn’t answer. He wouldn’t know until he spoke to Bryce and Casper in a couple of hours, but yeah, if they gave him the choice, Ryan would be cutting Kevin loose today. From his job. From Ryan’s life. He couldn’t stand to look at Kevin anymore. The man standing before him damn sure wasn’t the same one Ryan had fallen in love with so long ago.
“You don’t need to do anything rash,” Kevin stated, a hint of concern enhancing the words. “Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
“To
me
?” Ryan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This isn’t about
me.
”
“It never is, is it?” Kevin countered hotly. “I’m the one who’s at fault. Always me. You can’t even accept responsibility for the arguing, the fighting, the…alienation.”
“What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. About?” Ryan couldn’t hold back any longer. He was being buried under the emotional overload, anger resonating, churning into something much more potent.
“I know you’ve been pushing me away, RT. That’s what you do. You push everyone away. And yes! Maybe that’s why I did it. I’m sick and fucking tired of you paying attention to everyone else. Maybe I need some attention. Did you ever think of that?”
Ryan stared at Kevin, shock and horror coalescing as his worst fears were realized. If he hadn’t misunderstood—and he really didn’t think he had—Kevin had just admitted to setting Trace and Z up.
It must’ve registered with Kevin what he’d said, because his eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that,” Kevin backtracked. “It wasn’t my fault. I swear to you it wasn’t my fault. Look, it won’t happen again. We can work this out, RT.”
No, they couldn’t, but Ryan couldn’t even say that much. He merely pointed toward the door.
“Don’t kick me out, RT. Don’t make me go. You owe it to us to listen, to be on my side.”
Ryan swallowed hard, studying Kevin’s face. He’d given the last few years of his life to this man, and it had all come down to this. “There is no more us,” he told Kevin as gently as he could, which honestly wasn’t much. He wished they’d been able to keep this topic separate from the discussion at hand, but it was inevitable. As it was, Ryan had managed to keep his distance from Kevin, speaking to him only in the office or on the phone, but it hadn’t been easy.
“No. Hold up. You don’t mean that,” Kevin sputtered.
“I do. It’s been over for a long time. This was just the last straw.”
“RT, please. Don’t—”
Raising his voice to be heard over Kevin’s continued tirade, Ryan said, “We’re done here. Now get out of my face.”
For the first time since the incident on Monday, Kevin appeared almost apologetic, but Ryan knew better. Not once during any of the conversations he’d had with Kevin had he ever said he was sorry—fault or not. And he never would. It wasn’t like Kevin to accept responsibility for his own actions.
Kevin turned toward the door, and Ryan was grateful.
Unfortunately, his hope that Kevin would walk away disappeared when, with his hand hovering over the knob, he turned back. Ryan’s stomach churned, anger and hurt merging into a potent mixture of hatred and disgust.
“I’ll give you some time to cool off. We can talk at home later. I’ll stop by.”
“Don’t bother,” Ryan answered. “I don’t have anything more to say to you.”
“RT. Come on, you can’t be ser—”
“Get outta my face.” Dropping into his chair, Ryan glared up at Kevin. “Go!”
When the door closed behind Kevin, Ryan sighed, dropping his head into his hands. How had things gone so horribly wrong?
He had to go talk to Bryce and Casper, figure out what their next steps were. As much as he wished it didn’t have to come to this, he knew that firing Kevin was the only way this could play out.
And in order to get on with his life, the final decision couldn’t come soon enough.
Zachariah Tavoularis had no idea why he had been called into the office on a Friday afternoon, but here he was, trying to smile as he limped through the nearly empty space toward the offices in the back. After the week he’d had, Z wanted nothing more than to put his feet up, relax, maybe have a beer or two. Specifically, he wanted to give his right foot a rest since he was pretty damn sure he’d broken his big toe in the skirmish that had ensued just four days ago.
Damn. Had it only been four days? It seemed like a hell of a lot longer than that.
After the fiasco that had nearly cost him his life, Z had been treated for the stab wound in his shoulder, but he’d kept his trap shut about his toe. No reason to get everyone more fired up than they already were when there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. When the shit hit the fan around this place, things got messy, and Z didn’t want to add to the strain he could already feel.
Rapping his knuckles on RT’s door, he waited until he was called to come inside.
“You wanted to see me?” Z asked, peeking his head in the door.
RT was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed, his mouth a hard, thin line. He didn’t look happy at all.
“Yeah. Have a seat,” RT instructed, nodding toward the empty chair across from him.
He suddenly wished he could be anywhere but there. As it was, he’d spent the last four days thinking about the shit that had gone down and the fact that he’d been hung out to dry by one of his own. Having gone deep cover for months inside a drug cartel in order to unearth a missing wealthy businessman, Z and Trace had been lucky to escape alive. Fortunately, they had, but it damn sure hadn’t been easy. Despite being set up to take a fall, Z and Trace had still managed to extract the man they’d been hired to find from the cartel’s clutches.
Barely.
No thanks to that bastard Kevin Fischer.
Not wanting to rehash the incident, because the more he thought about it, the angrier he got, Z attempted to redirect the conversation before RT had a chance to steer it in that direction. “I already gave the details of what happened to Casper,” Z informed RT, trying not to limp too much although his toe was throbbing like a motherfucker. Probably would’ve been best not to stuff his foot into his boot, but riding his motorcycle without it hadn’t been an option.
So here he was, lowering himself into the chair in RT’s office.
“How’re you doin’?” RT asked, his eyes sliding to Z’s shoulder.
“Oh, that?” Z smiled, peering down at his shirt sleeve, which was hiding the white bandage that still covered the three-inch-deep gash in his arm. “Just a scratch.”
Z got caught up in RT’s crystal-blue gaze for a moment, unable to look away. Although his body’s untimely response wasn’t exactly appropriate considering Z worked for RT, he couldn’t help but be attracted to the man. Hell, he’d been harboring what he’d regarded as a slight crush on the guy for the better part of the last five years, maybe longer. Not that it mattered, because once RT had started dating Kevin, Z had done everything in his power not to think about him.
Most of the time it had worked.
Okay,
some
of the time.
“Are you really okay?” This time RT’s question sounded less business-like and more…personal.
What Z wouldn’t give for RT to care about him. Well, on a level other than employer to employee, that was. There was no doubt that RT cared about all of the enforcers who worked for Sniper 1 Security. He made that abundantly clear.
“I’m great,” Z lied. “Just chillin’, waitin’ for my next assignment.”
“I think you should take a coupla weeks off,” RT said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his thick chest, his biceps bulging from the movement. “Recuperate. Acclimate to the real world once again.”
Z locked his eyes on RT’s face once more. “Nope. Not necessary.” The last thing Z wanted was downtime. He needed something to keep him busy, and his job provided the perfect excuse not to sit around and dwell on all that had happened over the past year. Things were just beginning to stabilize—as best they could, anyhow—and he had no intention of upsetting that precarious balance that had become his life.
