Promises Part 3 (Bounty Hunters 3)
Dana chuckled lightly. He knew Brian was gay and knew exactly what type of hookup he was referring to. Did he want someone else… another man? Did he want to take Brian up on his offer? No to both. Brian was into a little more roughness and kink than he was comfortable with. The fact that Brian didn’t talk made his hookups rather interesting and erotic. Brian occasionally told him some minor details about his conquests, but even those were a little TMI. His friend already had another window open on his huge smart phone, his thumb pushing past the various pages of men that were available and horny tonight. Dana suspected that Brian didn’t have a hard time attracting men. He was the spitting image of his big brother. Over six feet of muscle and brawn. Large, dominant personality – regardless of his lack of speech – Brian’s entire demeanor, his build, and especially his dark eyes screamed it. He could easily make you feel some type of way by just looking at you. If Dana wasn’t fascinated with the other brother, he’d probably have had some fun with Brian.
“Naw. I’m good, buddy. You go on and enjoy.” Dana smiled, pulling into Brian’s driveway. “I’m thinking of meeting up with a friend downtown tonight.”
Brian nodded and went for the door handle. “No Jessica tonight?”
Dana wiped his hand over his jaw, scratching at the rough hairs there. “Not if I can help it.”
“Grow some balls.” Brian signed with a smug shrug of his thick shoulders.
“Fuck you.” Dana laughed for the first time all day. “I’m gonna tell her, alright. Give me some time, dude. I’m trying not to piss her off again. I need to do it in a way that makes her think it was her idea to end it.”
Brian stared at Dana for several long seconds. Those expressive eyes making him feel like he was two feet tall. He knew what Brian was thinking. He’d already signed it for him, too. Dana needed to grow a pair. Not only was he ducking and dodging his girl, but he was getting the business from a guy he was too chicken-shit to put in his place… on top of him.
Dana made a left off of Brian’s street and headed towards the front of the small neighborhood. Ford’s house was just around the block. Dana needed to drive past it to get to Brian’s. When they’d come in, Ford wasn’t there yet. But as he drove back out, he saw Ford’s truck in the driveway. He was at the tailgate pulling out a couple bags that looked like they were from a few different stores. Dana slowed down and pulled up to the curb at the end of Ford’s driveway. Ford looked over, his brow furrowing when he noticed him. He didn’t speak or wave, simply took a handful of plastic bags from Home Depot and walked up the porch to his front door. Ford’s lawn needed to be cut and his azalea bushes were overgrown.
Dana saw there were a few more bags in the truck bed. He turned his ignition to accessory mode and got out of his car. He didn’t like the way Ford looked at him, like his presence wasn’t welcome, but he pressed forward. Ford was going to respect him, if not as a coworker, then definitely as a man.
He heard Ford come back out, the screen door slamming shut behind him. Dana tried not to be nosy and look inside Ford’s lone grocery store bag, but he couldn’t help but notice the sad-looking frozen dinners. The small six-pack of beer, one tomato, an onion, and a couple cans of tuna. From the looks of it, Ford wasn’t planning to have company for dinner any time soon.
“What are you doing here, Dana?” Ford grumbled, reaching around him to pick up the two bags remaining in the truck bed.
“I just dropped your brother off at home and was leaving and saw you could use some help.” Dana followed Ford into the house and set the bags down on the two-person dinette set in the eat-in kitchen. It was especially quiet and clean… and empty. But what Dana noticed the most was that the place smelled like Ford. Strong and masculine with a touch of spice and disdain.
“I didn’t need help. I’ve always managed to bring in my own shit.” Ford gave Dana an exasperated look that he returned ten-fold. Ford mumbled, “But thanks anyway.”
“No problem.” Dana looked around uncomfortably and shoved his hands into his leather coat’s pockets. “Look, um, Ford. I’m sorry about the attitude today, alright. I know you didn’t go to the lunch because of me and—”
“You don’t know anything.” Ford leaned against the wall beside his still-open door, his huge arms crossed over his chest.