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  Crossroads

  Love In Three Lakes: Book 2

  Sasha Goldie

  Contents

  1. Brady

  2. Corey

  3. Brady

  4. Corey

  5. Brady

  6. Corey

  7. Brady

  8. Corey

  9. Brady

  10. Corey

  11. Brady

  12. Corey

  13. Corey

  14. Corey

  15. Brady

  16. Corey

  17. Corey

  18. Brady

  19. Brady

  20. Brady

  21. Corey

  22. Corey

  23. Brady

  24. Corey

  25. Corey

  26. Corey

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  1

  Brady

  "Brady, I guess we're competing for sexiest bachelor in Three Lakes." I turned from the bar to find Carson Wiley holding out his hand.

  "Hey, man!" I hadn't seen him in weeks, our jobs keeping us moving circles around each other in our small town. "How's the brewery business?" He pulled me in for a hug, a common greeting in our small town. Everyone was a hugger. It'd taken me awhile to get used to, but slowly I'd become one, too.

  "Busy as hell. Had to call you guys out the other night. Some tourist was an angry drunk." He motioned toward an empty table and we made our way across the room, weaving through the tables and chairs full of people.

  "It happens, but I'm not upset it happened on my off night," I said with a grin. Three Lakes had four police officers, and rarely any real trouble, and that was the way we liked it. I'd joined the force right out of high school, starting out as a guard in the city jail since I was too young to be a full-fledged officer.

  Of course, the fact that the city jail was comprised of five cells and a bathroom was lost on me. I was too eager to be a part of the team. And I hadn't even noticed that I wasn't much more than an errand boy and official jail cleaner. Being in a uniform gave me a sense of dignity. A way to show the town how good I was, how noble.

  How the years had changed me. I still considered myself good and noble, but I no longer had anything to prove. "It's crazy about Ian and Nate, yeah?"

  "Talk about a whirlwind," Carson agreed.

  "I never thought to call Ian to rescue Nate, what, almost five months ago? Never thought that would be the start of a romance for the ages." I stuck my nose in the air dramatically. "I credit myself with their happiness."

  Carson snorted and pulled out a chair. "As you should. I mean, coming across a stranded motorist on the highway and calling a tow for him was clearly above and beyond the call of duty."

  If we weren't busting each other's chops, were we really friends? "All right, all right. Still, I caused it, so I get the credit."

  He waved at his parents across the room. They'd moved to town not long after he had. "Okay, you get the credit. But if they fight, you have to get them through it, Dad."

  I chuckled as I watched the guests of honor enter the room. They'd had so many big moments over the past five months that they'd decided to throw a big party.

  Ian and Nate made a beeline for our table, sitting down as quickly as possible. "I'm so glad to see you guys. Have you ever seen such a turnout?" Ian took my beer, gulping down half of it and ducking his head. "I love this town, but everyone I've ever known is here."

  "Your invitations said open bar, man, what did you think would happen?" I shook my head as Ian's new fiancé, Nate, stood and hugged Daisy, the owner of our local diner.

  Carson tipped his beer at Ian. "Thanks for the business, by the way." Carson's brewery was providing all the alcohol for the party, which was part engagement party, part grand opening for Nate's new realty business, and part celebration for the new conservation building a rescue center in Three Lakes.

  "Sure, sure. How's it going, Carson? I feel like we haven't seen you in ages," Nate said as he sat down with us at the table.

  "Told you," I muttered.

  "Business has been booming. I actually think I'm going to end up having to hire someone soon to help me manage. It's getting to be too much for one person."

  "If I come across anyone, I'll let you know," I promised him. "In the meantime, how's the love life? Any prospects?"

  Ian snorted and Carson burst out laughing as Nate and Ian stood to go talk to the grocery store manager and his wife about the realty business. "Come on, Brady. You know as well as I do that all the eligible gay men in town are me and you."

  I sipped my beer. "Tyler, I mean, when he comes home." I knew my suggestion was crude but hell, that was all of us.

  "Well, besides the fact that he's still in a coma, he's even less my type than you are."

  Tyler was the diner owner's nephew and had been in a horrific hit and run months before. He'd gone into a coma, and nobody knew if he'd ever come out of it. The town still mourned his absence while he was in the hospital in Bend. We'd all been pitching in at the diner to cover his shifts, but finally Daisy had caved and hired someone. She'd had to with no idea when or if Tyler would come home.

  Eventually, Ian, Carson, and I had to get up and mingle with the other guests, however much we wanted to hide at the table and people watch. To my surprise, I had a great time. Every time I was pushed into a social situation, I expected to have a horrible time, but then I'd get there and thoroughly enjoy myself.

  Eventually, the party ran down and we all parted ways, congratulating Ian and Nate over and over. I'd only had the one beer, so no problem driving home, but Carson had let a little loose. "Come on, champ." I pushed him toward my truck. "You're not driving."

  "I can walk home from here, don't be silly." He stumbled toward Main Street, leaving the community center's parking lot.

  "Not in the dark, come on. You can walk back tomorrow for your car." He was resistant, but I managed to load him into the passenger seat of my truck. “I know you very rarely drink your own brews, but you’ve had a few too many to walk.” Carson had set everything up, then turned the party over to his trusted head bartender, Pearl, saying he was overdue a night off.

  "I'm lonely, Brady." Carson looked out the window forlornly as we drove the few blocks toward his house. He lived near me, just a few streets over.

  "I know." I shared his sentiment. I was ready to settle down, maybe start thinking about kids and college funds.

  "It's a shame we didn't make it work." He looked at me with a wistful smile. "You're a good man."

  "So are you, but I think we're too much alike."

  He snorted. “Yeah, like when you kissed me and tried to be all pushing your tongue in my mouth.”

  “Excuse me, I believe you kissed me, and I just tried not to puke.” It hadn’t been that bad, but I couldn’t let him think it had been my fault.

  We'd tried to make out once, just to see how we liked it. It had been a big dud. The attraction just wasn't there for either of us. All I’d been able to focus on was the feel of his lips on mine, and I hadn’t gotten turned on at all. We’d even done it up right and gone to Bend on a date. We’d had a great time, but neither of us felt the spark. It was just a good night out with a friend, and nothing more.

  We pulled up at his house. "It'll be okay,” I said as I patted him on the knee. “Go in and sleep it off. You won't seem so sad tomorrow." He nodded his head and fell more than stepped out of my truck. I waited until he got in the house, then headed toward my own place.

  Just as I was about to pull into the driveway, I remembered I was out of sodas. I'd grown up without caving to the guys on the football team and their obsession with dip. I'd never picked up cigarettes. Alcohol, I drank occasionally, but only
lightly. I could take it or leave it.

  But soda?

  It was my vice. And the only place open this late was the gas station, which was the only twenty-four-hour store in a forty-mile radius. Otherwise they wouldn't even have enough business to stay open themselves. No way I could get up the next morning without a cup of soda. No coffee for me, give me cola all the way.

  I turned around in my driveway and headed back toward Main Street, not really expecting to run into anyone after midnight. Everyone that lived in Three Lakes had been at the party and would be home by now.

  The night clerk's car was in the parking lot, along with an El Camino and a small SUV. Two guys stood outside the beat-up old muscle car. One, a slender blond, gesticulated wildly while the other, a bit older, stood stoically smoking a cigarette.

  The night clerk, Sasha, peered out at them from the big windows, her cell phone to her ear. I walked in to see what was going on, and as soon as I opened my truck door, the blond's shrill voice hit me.

  "Who do you think you are, John? Do you think you can control me?"

  The shorter, thicker guy shook his head and took a long drag off of his cigarette. "Can we just leave, Corey? We've been here for four fucking hours arguing."

  Four hours? Geez.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you." Blondie opened the car door and pulled out a scruffy duffle bag. He threw it on the curb, then sat down on it.

  "Corey, I'll leave you here, I swear to God." John threw his cigarette down and stomped on it for emphasis as I opened the door to talk to Sasha.

  "What the hell is that?" I asked her as I walked around the gondolas to find the sodas. A guy walked out of the bathroom as I grabbed a few bottles. "Hello." I nodded to him. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

  "Hey," he replied. "Brady?"

  "Yeah, I'm sorry, but I'm not placing you." He really did look familiar, but I had no idea from where.

  "I'm Max. I was a few grades behind you at Lakes High."

  A scrawny kid that looked somewhat like this guy came to mind. "You look different," I said with a laugh. The last I could remember him, he was just another kid at high school. We hadn’t known each other very well or hung around in the same crowds.

  "Yeah, the army does that to a man," he said as he peered out the window. "I've been hanging out with Sasha here to make sure these guys aren't going to hassle her."

  "So, what's their deal?" I asked.

  "They've been arguing like that for literally hours," she said. "I was just calling Fran to see if she wants me to call the cops. I'm glad you're here." She hung up her phone.

  So much for being off duty.

  I set the bottles of soda on the counter and headed back out the door in time to see the El Camino speed off. The blond, Corey, still sat on his bag, staring at the taillights of the black car as it peeled out of the parking lot and sped down Main.

  "Hey," I said to the abandoned guy. "You okay?"

  He swiped tears from his eyes without looking at me. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine."

  2

  Corey

  Fucking tears. I wasn't crying, I was so mad tears started leaking out of my eyes. There was an enormous fucking difference. I didn't want John to stay, I'd truly wanted him to leave. But as I watched him drive off, it hurt. He cared so little for me that he was willing to leave me in the middle of the night at a gas station hours from home.

  "Can I call someone for you or anything?" I looked up at the nosy stranger, flashing him a smile, before looking back toward the direction John had gone. He'd be back, that was for sure. But I was done. Completely done with him. I'd rather be stranded in Small Town, USA, than go back to Portland with that asshole.

  I had to do a double take with the nosy stranger, though. Holy shit. He had the very beginnings of what would be a kick-ass silver fox look when he got a bit older. I'd always been a sucker for an older man, which explained how I'd let myself be mistreated by John for so long.

  "No, really, I'll be fine," I said, standing in front of Mr. Foxy. He was gorgeous, but he really needed to mind his own business. I could call a ride share to the bus stop and ride to a bigger city where I'd rent a hotel until I got on my feet. I had a little money stashed in my bag that would do me a few days. And there were ways to make more, but I'd do anything to avoid going down that road.

  "Okay, if you say so. I can give you a ride somewhere, if you need. Are you staying nearby?"

  I nearly laughed at him. He stood a good foot taller than me, and probably had nearly a hundred pounds on me, but fuck me, it was pure muscle. I was tempted to ask if I could stay with him. Where did he think I was staying when I was stranded?

  Ah, hell. He probably had a hot wife to go along with his hot body.

  "Nope, but I'll make my way. I always do." He didn't get a hint, did he?

  "You can't hang out here all night," he said with a small smile. Oh, boy, he was bringing out the sympathy. His eyes crinkled, showing the earliest stages of crow's feet. I knew exactly where he could shove his sympathy.

  Fuck. Me. He was so hot. "I'll call a ride share and head to the bus stop." Shrugging, I pulled out my phone, which was low on battery, of course, and brought up the internet browser. "Do you know what ride share company is used most around here?"

  Foxy shook his head. "Man, we don't have any of that out here. We've got one cab, but the driver is about a hundred years old. He'll be up at five, like clockwork, but then he'll charge you an arm and a leg for a ride to the bus stop in Bend."

  My arm dropped, and I gave Mr. Foxy a deadpan look. Was he fucking serious? One cab? That was bullshit.

  "Let me give you a ride over to the bed and breakfast. They might have a vacancy, but we stay pretty booked up around here. We have an abundance of tourists, but a shortage of places to stay."

  "Can't we just check their website?" I asked, indicating my phone. Had he not heard of the internet? He wasn't that much older than me.

  "Even if you actually have service, they don't have a website." He gestured to the gas station. "I'd offer to call from Sasha's phone, but the B&B owner turns off the phones at eleven."

  He shrugged. "I don't mind."

  They turned off the phones? Where the fuck was I?

  The door to the gas station opened, and another hot guy walked out. He'd been in there a while, though. I'd noticed him when he walked in. He had a slight limp but was built like a brick shithouse. In other words, he was freaking big. And broad.

  What was in the water in this freaky town? Every man I'd seen so far had been drop-dead gorgeous.

  Stranger number two walked up. "You good, Brady?"

  Brady was the fox. Okay, then. Hello, Brady the Fox. At least I had two delicious distractions from the fact that my long-term boyfriend had just abandoned me in the middle of nowhere.

  "Thanks, Max, we're fine. Corey here was just letting me know where he wanted a ride to."

  I guess we'd established that he was giving me a ride to the bed and breakfast. What if I didn't have the money to stay there? I didn't, not really, but maybe the owner would let me do a little work to offset some of the cost. These small towns usually had really nice people in them. It was worth a shot. What the heck else was I going to do? I had to get my head on straight.

  Hottie number two, Max, shook Brady's hand and walked to his SUV. Geez. They were a friendly bunch. Brady turned back to me. "What do you say?"

  My nerves got to me as I looked past him at his truck. He could've been a rapist, a drug dealer, or any number of bad things. The universe knew I didn't need to get mixed in with any more people like that, but normal people didn't drive trucks that nice. He probably got it by selling crack to babies. No, thanks. If I'd wanted to put up with that shit, I would've gone with John.

  "You know what? Thank you for the offer, but I'm fine. I'll just sit here until that old man cab driver gets up. If you'll just tell the lady inside I'm not going to bother anything or anyone, I'll sit here and mind my own business." I'd a
lready been in the parking lot for four hours, might as well make it another four until I could get a ride out of town.

  Brady the Fox shrugged and smiled again. "Okay. Sasha has my number if you change your mind and want some help. I just live a few blocks away." He hesitated, like he wanted to say something else, but finally turned.

  He walked away, looking back at me a couple of times. Damn, he really wanted to get me in that truck. I sat back down on my bag, wrapping my arms around myself as I watched another man drive away from me, dejection filling my heart.

  The mountain air was really fucking cold this late at night, even though the days had been pretty warm. I shivered and opened my bag, hoping to see a jacket appear. No such luck. I'd packed light, not expecting to be outside in the mountains in the middle of the night. I rifled through the bag, feeling my shirts to see if one might be thicker than the others.

  John had promised me a romantic dinner and a weekend away. Instead, he'd taken me on a fucking drug run, and we'd stopped at a fast food joint for a burger.

  "Oh, no," I moaned as I realized I didn't see my toiletries bag. I'd stashed some extra money in a fake lotion bottle, something John didn't know about. He'd been freaking me out lately, getting more and more abrasive and pushy. I'd learned long ago to always have an exit strategy. Never again would I be forced to do things that were reprehensible in order to stay alive.

  Except, the bag wasn't there. Either John grabbed it to use some of my stuff and found the money, or it had fallen out in the car. My money was on John taking my money, always. That's just the sort of person he was.