Hennessey's Handler (Protect and Serve #4) - Pandora Pine Page 0,14

scratch the occasional itch, but wouldn’t it be nice to come home to someone.”

“To scratch my itches?” I deadpanned.

“No, asshole!” Ozzy growled. “There’s more to being in a relationship than the fucking, though Lord knows some days the sex is enough. Deacon is my best friend. I look forward to sharing my day with him and hearing about the stories he’s covering for the paper. We’re learning to cook together and love reading the Sunday paper in bed.”

I gagged aloud. The last thing I needed tonight was to picture what Ozzy and Declan did in bed.

“Morrison seemed like a nice man. I overheard him talking to Lola. He had a real way with her, and he’d only known her for a few minutes. If you ask me, he’s a keeper.” A smile lurked around Quentin’s full lips.

“No one asked you,” I muttered. “Damn, I’m sorry, Q. I don’t know what the hell’s got into me tonight.”

“I can tell you what the hell hasn’t gotten into you.” Quentin started to laugh. “The two of you seemed to have a nice chat. That’s my point.”

I raised an eyebrow at my brother. His points were never this simple or direct.

“I’ve worked with Morrison and the folks at K9FIND several times during my career. He’s a top-of-the-line handler and one hell of a good guy.” Kennedy sounded so sure.

“Aside from his work ethic, what else do you know about him?” Ozzy asked.

“Not much really. I know his father owns Bear Creek Kennel & K9. Drummond Rowe started as a German Shepherd show dog breeder, but when Morrison became interested in Search and Rescue, the father started offering dogs to be trained in the K9FIND program. For a price, of course. He’s one of those sorts who prays to the Almighty Dollar.”

“Morrison mentioned something about…” Shit. Why did I have such a big mouth?

“About?” Kennedy prodded, just like I knew he would.

“Just how nice it would have been to grow up in a family filled with other gay boys.” I sighed. Morrison had grabbed my attention with those heartfelt words.

Kennedy frowned. “Yeah, Drummond Rowe is a tough man. I can’t imagine growing up in that family was easy for Morrison, with his father being so uptight and his mother being a hippy.”

“A hippy?” I choked on my beer. Ozzy whacked my back as I fought for air.

“He’s named after Jim Morrison.” Kennedy started singing the words to “Riders on the Storm.”

“He could light my fire any day!” Quentin snorted and fanned his face.

“Hands off my man.” Fuck, where the hell had that come from? My brothers were going to eat me alive.

“Oh, he’s your man, is he? I thought you weren’t interested,” Ozzy said quietly.

I sighed as if I were carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. “I don’t know what I am, but I don’t want to rush into anything because my brother, the pilot, is looking to bump me out of the way.” Shoot me down would have been more on point.

“You know I’m kidding, Hen. I’m not ready for anything serious. Besides, what kind of man would be interested in this?” Quentin knocked his left fist against his prosthetic leg.

Christ, I felt like a complete and total piece of shit. Here I was bitching about my brother moving in on some guy I’d known for an hour while sitting across from me was that brother, the war hero, who came home from his last tour of duty missing a leg. “Q, look, I-”

Quentin held up his right hand. “This isn’t on you. It’s on me. One day I’ll be ready to open myself up to someone and willing to reveal all of me, but for right now, it felt good to daydream about a normal life for a little while.”

“What do you see as a normal life?” I needed to know what Quentin wanted out of life.

“I want someone to come home to at night, who missed me as much as I missed him. I want a family. Crazy artwork on the fridge and a Lego minefield between me and a middle of the night trip to the bathroom. Sunday dinners with me manning the grill like Dad did today. I want more than cold pizza and warm beer at my kitchen counter.” Quentin shrugged as if he hadn’t just poured out his heart.

Listening to Quentin talk, I realized how much we both wanted the same things. I’d had my share of lonely nights and way more pizza than a