Chance of the Heart (8 page)

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Authors: Kade Boehme

BOOK: Chance of the Heart
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And don’t forget he gives damn fine head.

 

Damn his inner voice. But it was true. Now that he knew about his being bi, though, it didn’t hurt to admit it so long as it was only to himself, in his head. Maybe. And Chance could no more cut Bradley out of his life now than he could cut off an arm. He wouldn’t do that to the man. They’d just have to keep their dicks in check. His inner voice may have quailed at that but Chance ignored it.

 

 

              
Chapter 8

 

 

Bradley slammed down the folder he’d been sifting through for an hour now, fell back in his chair and sighed. He’d spent a whole hour on the phone with Debby, and Regina had been right, the woman made you lose your Jesus quick. She was a nuisance. He’d been home a month and he’d seen her more than two dozen times, talked to her twice that often on the phone. She obviously hadn’t realized he didn’t answer to her, nor did he only have her concerns to address.

 

Hell he hadn’t even seen his father more than two or three times and they lived on the same property, though it was as big as a small town. The only person he did see with any regularity was his sister. He also saw Chance every once in a while, but they didn’t spend much time alone. Which was good. The more he was around Chance the more he wanted him. The man was funny and smart, if a little zany at times. But he was steadfast in his preference to be closeted and Bradley had learned his lesson with closet cases way back in his days of chasing frat boys in college.

 

So no matter how wonderfully Chance could cook, how funny he was, or how tight that bubble butt was…
Not helping.
He rubbed his forehead. The man was driving Bradley crazy.

 

But every once in a while there’d be a phone call from Caitlin and Chance would slip away from Bradley. And Bradley would seethe with jealousy, even if he had no right. They were friends. And they weren’t the first friends who’d fucked. Yes, sex typically complicated things. Especially when the guy you’d fucked up with would be awesome boyfriend material. Friends to lovers, that transition always seemed to be successful. But it wasn’t meant to be for them.

 

He’d remembered the first time he found out Chance and Caitlin were dating. It’d been his first year of college and he’d been home on holiday. He’d been surprised because he’d thought Chance’s covert glances at him meant he was gay. He hadn’t bargained on the bisexual angle. He’d been jealous then, he was even more jealous now.

 

Though he wondered about the validity of Chance’s bisexuality because Chance had been so open and free when they’d made lo—
fucked
. When they’d fucked. But bring up sex between him and Caitlin and he squirmed. At first Bradley thought it was because obviously talking about the girl with the mistress could be awkward. But if Chance brought it up he said things like “sex with a woman isn’t horrible” or some other ringing endorsement of intimacy with the fairer sex.

 

Was it possible to be that naive? So naive you didn’t
realize
you were gay until it cock-slapped you in the face? When he thought of sweet Chance, who was possibly one of the most innocent adults he’d ever met, he didn’t think it was wishful thinking to think that, yes… it
was
possible to be
that
naive.

 

He groaned to himself. He needed to stop thinking like that. So what? He had a crush on Chance. Who wouldn’t? Especially after sleeping with him. Caitlin was a fool for letting that boy off the leash.

 

He’d foolishly confided in his beloved older sister, who’d been quite mature and insisted on singing
Chance and Bradley sitting in a tree.
She also told him he was too old to be chasing after closet cases. You’d think having that confirmed would help. And it did in a way. He didn’t spend every moment he was around Chance obsessing over how to get him into bed.

 

A knock on the door derailed the train to crazy town, thank goodness. “Come in.”

 

His new secretary, Rhonda, popped her head in. “Hon, I’ve got a Chance Becket here to see you.”

 

“Oh?” Bradley was surprised. Other than seeing Chance when he helped his sister cater a couple of church lunches, he didn’t see him often. He knew Chance attended services with his parents on Sundays, but since that wasn’t Bradley’s thing he only saw the man during working hours. They hadn’t even exchanged numbers yet. “Send him in.”

 

When Chance came in, clutching his Stetson to his chest, he was like an excited puppy, practically wagging, but trying to cover it for some reason. Bradley couldn’t recall having ever seen the man like this. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkling, but he appeared to be holding himself in check.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I’m sorry to barge in like this. I know you’re busy.” When Bradley waved that off, Chance continued, “Okay, so here’s the thing. I’ve saved up a lot of money over the years and I have some inheritance from my grandparents but I don’t know nothin’ about money at all.”

 

“You’re telling me. I’ve seen your boot collection.” At three-hundred dollars a pop, Chance owned at least ten thousand dollars in footwear.

 

Chance scowled. “I wanted to show you something when you get off work and I may be jumping the gun and I may not even do it because I’ve got so many other responsibilities but I just saw it and you’re the only person I know who could crunch numbers and…” He took a breath. “Sorry. And I know it’s probably seemed like I’m avoiding you. So this is out of the blue...”

 

Bradley chuckled. How could he say no to that hopeful face? And if he could help out, why not? It’s not like they were going to fuck. “Okay. Sure. I’ve only got about another hour here. If you want to wait.”

 

“I can do that. I’ll just go out to my truck. I need to make a phone call.” Bradley didn’t want to know so he just nodded and watched Chance disappear out the door.

 

“You’ve got to find more friends,” he said to the closed door.

 

 

 

When Bradley pulled his Jeep up behind Chance’s F-250 in the parking lot of an old building with chipped paint and cracked front windows, he was confused. They were a block from the main drag of Hope Springs. The houses in the area all had recently had their own face lifts and a few new businesses had sprung up. He’d heard the Chamber of Commerce was trying to revitalize their Historic Downtown. Even he had to admit, though it wasn’t the largest town, their downtown had charm.

 

But this particular building had obviously been left behind. So why was Chance standing in front of it looking like he’d found a miracle. Bradley hopped out of the Jeep and wandered over to Chance who turned to him, smiling shyly. That boyish enthusiasm was still held in check, but it lingered in his glinting gaze.

 

“So, what do we have here?”

 

“First,” Chance said, turning bodily toward Bradley. “I want to apologize because it’s not like I spend a lot of time seeking out your company, so I’m happy you actually showed.”

 

Bradley frowned. He didn’t know exactly why he’d jumped when Chance said jump, either. But he figured he’d done similar things for exes before. Not that Chance was an ex. So he simply said , “We go way back. I do finance. You need help. It’s cool.” Chance didn’t look too sure. “And I get it… our situation is… awkward.”

 

Chance scrunched his nose, expression remorseful. Bradley changed the subject by repeating his initial question. “What do we have here?”

 

That seemed to get Chance back to the business at hand. “Ok. So, like I said, I have some money. It’s been sitting around in savings forever. The inheritance was originally in a CD, but that comes open in a few months, so I’ve got all this money and I need help figuring out what to do with it. I’d obviously pay you for your help.”

 

“That’s not necessary.”

 

“Yes, it is.” Chance’s tone brooked no argument. “I want to do right by you on this because you’d be doing me a solid.”

 

“Okay,” Bradley drawled. “What does that have to do with this?” He indicated the building.

 

Chance’s excited grin was fleeting but there all the same. “Follow me.” Chance led him to a side door, unlocking and letting Bradley in. Bradley walked through, seeing a greasy, neglected old kitchen. The appliances were still there, but whether they were working he didn’t know.

 

Chance sauntered ahead of Bradley and went through swinging doors. Bradley followed through a galley then out into a barren space. It was decently sized. Too large to have been a diner, but smaller than your average chain restaurant. But it had definitely once been a restaurant.

 

“You see,” Chance said, waving around the room, “It’s in excellent shape. An inspector told me the building itself is solid. It just needs paint and obviously the fixings and tables…”

 

Bradley looked at Chance’s obvious enthusiasm. “You want to open a restaurant? I thought you were staying at your dad’s ranch.”

 

Chance sobered. “It’d mostly be an investment of my money. I’d have a manager run it.” Though he seemed disappointed to say so.

 

“Why can’t you run it?”

 

“Like you said, I got responsibilities at the ranch.”
Responsibilities. What an ugly word.
“And I’m not even sure I can do this or if I should. My parents would say it’s unwise and that I should save the money for my future family.” Chance had lost all the shiny excitement he’d had. Bradley had curled his lip at the thought of Chance’s future family that would most definitely not include him. But he also felt a bit of light left the room with Chance’s loss of enthusiasm, making the building not seem like something with potential, but just a dingy, broken down place.

 

“Well you never know until we get a look at your portfolio.”

 

Chance sounded listless when he said “Bradley, I have a CD and a savings account. There is no portfolio.”

 

“Well, we’ll see how much money you’ve got to work with and maybe we can invest some so that maybe one day you can have your restaurant.” Chance looked around the room thoughtfully and Bradley tracked his progress, saw the way his mind seemed to be going a million miles per hour. “I’ve not seen you this passionate about something”—
other than in bed
definitely went unsaid— “so what can it hurt to just take a look at the numbers?”

 

Chance seemed to catch what he’d left handing in the middle of that, though, and flushed. His eyes darkened with undeniable hunger, and they both took a step toward one another. Then another. The room grew hot, their gazes locked.

 

Someone honked a car horn outside and the magic evaporated. Thank goodness. They both looked around, anywhere but at one another. But Chance’s sigh made Bradley finally glance his way again.

 

Chance’s apologetic expression was painful to see. “I have never done anything like this. I’ve
only
ever been with Caitlin. And now you.”

 

 

Why did they have to talk about this? When Bradley scowled, Chance continued, “I don’t think I regret it.”

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