Best Friend's Brothers

BEST FRIEND’S BROTHERS A WHY CHOOSE ROMANCE NATASHA L. BLACK Copyright © 2023 by Natasha L. Black All rights reserved. The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. CONTENTS Introduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Epilogue Falling for My Dad’s Enemy (Preview) A Note from the Author Books by Natasha L. Black Connect with Natasha L. Black INTRODUCTION After escaping an abusive relationship, all I wanted was to focus on my career. The last thing I needed was to get involved with another man— Let alone three of them! Just when I thought nothing could be more enticing—or more forbidden— I encountered Rory Beckett, the irresistible firefighter and my best friend's older brother. Fate brought me back into his life, along with his equally captivating brothers, Darren and Jeremy, at a cozy barbecue. Determined to stand on my own, I tried to resist their charm. But when my vengeful ex turned stalking into his new obsession, The Beckett brothers insisted on keeping me safe within their shared home. As I found myself living with all three of them, our chemistry became undeniable, And they assured me that I didn't need to choose just one. Happiness and satisfaction were finally within my reach, But when a fire set by my ex jeopardized my life and newfound love, I might never get the chance to reveal my true feelings, Or share the news of the precious miracle we've created together. 1 JULIE “They’re almost here,” my floor supervisor announced, “four firefighters with bad enough smoke inhalation that they’re in an ambulance. I paged the pulmonologist on call and two respiratory therapists are on their way down here to help. I want Marks, Romero, Cooper, and Hayes on triage, cubicles 31-34, now.” Hearing my name, I sprang into action. I knew working the ER at Mount Sinai would be fast paced, but it was what I always wanted to do. To help where there was the most need, and use my strengths—calm in a crisis, independent and resourceful—to do the most good. A lot of nights, nerves of steel, nightmares from some of the things I’d seen, but I was where I belonged. Still muffled in their gear and oxygen masks over their faces, the EMTs wheeled in the firefighters, and I was ready with the first cubicle. They offloaded the first patient and made way for me. I slid back the curtain and started checking his vitals, tapping notes into the tablet as I did. When I shone my penlight to check his pupils, I saw the sea-blue eyes I’d know anywhere. “Jesus Christ, Rory?” I said in a whisper. He blinked in recognition, trying to speak but instead choked and coughed. “Lie still,” I ordered, heart pounding in a way it never did at work. Historically in the face of illness and injury, I was rock-steady. Except for the fact that this was Rory Beckett, my best friend Kendall’s older brother. I have should immediately let my charge nurse know so she could reassign me and send in someone objective. But he had smoke inhalation and every minute counted in his treatment. Nothing could happen to Rory, not on my watch. I felt the rush of adrenaline in my veins, the determination that I would be the one to take care of him and make things right. Once I was satisfied that his pulse was even, I elevated the head of the gurney so he could sit up. “I’m going to take off your shirt and put these electrode sensors on you so I can monitor your heart rate. It’s more accurate than the one on the pulse oximeter we put on your finger. I still need that for your oxygen saturation though, so quit trying to take it off.” I tried to keep it clinical, but I was flustered. I parted the buckles on his heavy fireman’s jacket and then realized he had on an FD t-shirt. I couldn’t unbutton it to get to his chest and he wasn’t in any condition to sit up and be stripped of his coat and have the shirt yanked over his head. I took the scissors from my pocket and cleared my throat, “I’m going to have to cut it off.” I started at the hem and kept my angled scissors steady as they ate through the navy-blue cotton that opened up to reveal his tanned chest and chiseled abs. My mouth went dry at the sight of his body. I hadn’t seen Rory in a couple of years, and even though I’d always thought he was hot, he’d leveled up in the meantime. I removed the tabs from the adhesive and placed the electrodes perfectly on his chest and side, hooked up the terminal wires and watched the screen flare to life with his heartbeat. I turned to discard the paper tabs in the trash can when he caught my wrist. He said something muffled and pulled down his oxygen mask, “Well, if it ain’t Strawberry Shortcake.” His handsome face was smudged with dark streaks from the fire, but his smile was still about a million watts. “Who would’ve thought they’d bring me here so you could rip off my clothes.” He coughed and gagged and I passed him an emesis basin and a paper towel. Once he was done hacking, he wiped his mouth and grinned