Best play, p.1
Best Play, page 1
Best Play
A Perfect Play Novella
Layla Reyne
Best Play
Copyright © 2024 by Layla Reyne
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the copyright owner, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover Design: Cate Ashwood Designs
Cover Photography: Wander Aguiar Photography
Editing: Adam Mongaya
Proofreading: Lori Parks
First Edition
June, 2024
E-Book ISBN: 978-1-962010-18-4
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-962010-19-1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only. The author acknowledges the copyrights and trademarked status and trademark owners of any trademarks and copyrights mentioned in this work of fiction.
Content Warnings: Explicit sex; explicit language; off-page death of a former spouse; mentions of PTSD, anxiety, depression, and past suicide attempt of an off-page character.
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About this Book
When the best play is the marriage already made…
* * *
By Friday, Agents Bishop and Marshall must:
Solve an anything-but-routine burglary.
Determine why the house’s previous owner was murdered.
Avoid getting killed in the process.
* * *
Because on Saturday, Levi and Marsh must:
Keep an overdue promise to their son.
Entertain a house full of friends and family.
Say “I do” in the wedding their marriage of convenience turned true love deserves.
* * *
Marsh and Levi are determined to help a friend in need.
But they’re already six months late for a very important date.
If they’re not at the altar on time for their Christmas (in July) wedding, they’ll face their most terrifying enemy yet—their teenage son.
* * *
Best Play is the fourth book in the M/M romantic suspense series, Perfect Play. This series epilogue novella features Marsh and Levi at their steamy partnership best, as they make their way to the altar a second, forever time.
Contents
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
Single Malt Preview
Acknowledgments
Also by Layla Reyne
About the Author
For David
One
“How did I end up in this outfit?” Levi tied the pink bandana around his neck, tucked the loose ends beneath the collar of his fringed, black-and-white, Western-style shirt, then stepped back, giving himself a once-over in the guest bedroom mirror. He plucked the white Stetson Marsh had gifted him off the bed and flipped it onto his head. Outfit complete, but still . . . “I could’ve rocked the pink.”
“I’m sure you could,” came Marsh’s voice from behind him. “But I rock it better.”
Glancing up, Levi caught the reflection of his husband in the mirror and—Oh.
Better was an understatement, and fuck if Levi could decide where to look, his attention torn in a dozen different directions. From Marsh’s bronze skin and sprinkling of chest hair on full display between the open flaps of the hot pink vest. To his muscled biceps and rippling abs as he sauntered closer. To the hot pink bell bottoms Marsh had somehow poured himself into, his thighs testing the seams, his shiny belt buckle drawing Levi’s gaze to his cock that was likewise testing his zipper.
“Jesus fuck,” Levi cursed.
“Haven’t we been over this?” Marsh snaked his arms around Levi’s waist and pressed close behind him. Heat, so much heat, up and down the length of Levi’s body, then in his ear, as Marsh whispered hotly, “Not Jesus, just Marsh.” He nipped his neck above the bandana, then lifted his hands and began unsnapping Levi’s shiny shirt buttons. “And you’re wearing entirely too much clothing.”
He got as far as Levi’s ribs, the brush of Marsh’s warm, rough fingertips against his skin sending another wave of heat crashing through him, finally knocking Levi out of his pink-on-bronze haze. “And you’re not wearing nearly enough.” He turned in Marsh’s arms and grabbed the lapels of his vest. “I can’t believe your mom made this for you.” He tried and failed to tug the vest closed. “Will this thing even button?”
Marsh stole the hat from his head, tossed it onto the dresser beside his matching one, then stepped into Levi’s space, forcing him back a step. Then another, and another, until Levi bumped into the bedroom door. Dipping his head, Marsh peppered his exposed collarbone with kisses. “I think you’re missing the point of San Francisco Pride.” Then altered his path and continued the kisses up the column of his throat to the corner of Levi’s mouth. “And of a bachelor party.”
He splayed his big, warm hands over Levi’s chest, branding as he pushed the shirt open wider, and fuck it, how was Levi supposed to resist? He angled his face and brought their lips crashing together, greedily sucking Marsh’s tongue as it swept inside his mouth. The fire that burned between them was no less scorching now than it had been that night a year ago after his cousin’s wedding, when Marsh had held him in his arms and given him exactly what he’d needed. What he’d asked for that night, during the whirlwind month that had followed, and over the past year, which had been one of the best of his life. A life—another shot at love—that Levi had thought out of his reach until a cocky cowboy had reached out to him.
He smiled against Marsh’s lips. “I love you.”
Marsh shoved a knee between his thighs and rocked their hips together. “You love my cock.”
“That too,” Levi said before a flash of light in the mirror drew his gaze, the midday sun catching his wedding ring on the hand clutching his husband’s ass. A perfect one at that, encased in hot pink. Levi flexed his fingers, more of that light shining, more of Marsh rubbing up against him. “Maybe we skip the bachelor party.” Marsh chuckled against him, his big body rippling in Levi’s arms. “I don’t see a bachelor in this room. Hell, I think the only one in this house is David.”
Marsh drew back and braced a forearm beside Levi’s head, his dark eyes sparkling with heat and affection, with all the love Levi felt in his own chest. “Yes, our son,” Marsh said, “who we owe this party, like we owe him a wedding next weekend.” He lifted his knee, pressing it snug against the underside of Levi’s balls, making Levi gasp. Marsh’s smirk was the same devastating one that had hooked him from across a dinner table a year ago. “And we owe ourselves a first anniversary celebration.”
“Best deal I ever made.”
Marsh’s grin gentled as he pressed his lips to Levi’s. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Saying yes. That night and all the days and nights since.”
“Fuck.” Levi clutched his sides, hauling him closer. “Just when I think I can’t love you more.” He flipped them, backing Marsh against the door and diving in for more of his husband’s kisses. He spread a hand over Marsh’s chest, over the beating heart of the man he’d promised to love and cherish a year ago, words of convenience then. He couldn’t wait to repeat them, full of conviction now, but first . . .
He slid his hand down, cupping Marsh’s erection and stroking. “How about a private celebration before the festivities begin?”
Marsh thrust into his grip. “I can agree to that deal.”
Their son, however, did not. “Dad! Marsh!” He shouted from the other side of the door, fists banging the wood, rattling them against it. “You’re supposed to be putting on clothes, not taking them off.”
Levi buried his face in Marsh’s chest, burying his laughter. David knew them too well. Knew to recruit help too.
“Texas!” Lily screamed at the top of her lungs as she smacked the door in that open-palmed way Levi remembered from David’s toddler days a decade ago. “Hurry up!”
“No tag teaming,” Marsh called back through his own laughter.
“I needed help,” David argued. “And Reese isn’t here yet.”
They’d been to San Francisco so often the past year, either for work or for visiting friends and family, like Lily and her dads, that David had gone and gotten himself a Bay Area boyfriend. Hadn’t lost the teena
“We’ll be down in five,” Levi called back to him.
“How many seconds is that?” Lily asked, still at the top of her lungs.
“Three hundred,” David answered.
“I can’t count that high yet.”
“Good thing I have a stopwatch on my phone,” he said, ever patient with her, if not with them. A few seconds of indecipherable whispering later, Lily gave them a stern “Clock’s ticking!” warning before the two troublemakers trudged off, cackling.
“So much for that private celebration,” Levi grumbled, taking after his son.
“Tonight, baby.” Marsh nipped his bottom lip and tugged at the bandana around his neck. “I promise to put this to good use.”
Levi groaned. “Not helping at all.” As much as he wanted to sink into Marsh again, to drop to his knees and take care of the erection still persistently pressed against his thigh, he reluctantly pushed back and straightened his clothes. “And you better keep that promise.”
“I intend to.” Marsh tossed him his Stetson before flipping his own onto his head, then opening the door. “After you.”
At the top of the stairs, Levi paused to let the familiar sounds from below—of a family celebrating together—wash over him.
Marsh stepped to his side, a hand on his opposite hip. “Everything okay?”
Levi tipped back his head so he could catch his husband’s gaze from under the brims of their hats. “Thank you for this too. For giving me and David more laughter, more love, more family.”
Carefully avoiding a collision, Marsh leaned in and pecked his lips. “Yours is pretty great too.”
“And they’ll all be together next weekend.”
Marsh shivered. “Little terrifying.”
“Lotta terrifying,” Levi said, even as a grin stretched across his face. As he pressed that smile to his husband’s. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way when I say ‘I do’ to you again.”
Two
Marsh lounged at the large round table in the center of Under the Table’s dining room, sipping a bottle of Gravity Stout and glancing around the restaurant full of friends and family. Jax’s girlfriend, February, owned the place, and she had closed it for Marsh and Levi’s post-Pride parade bachelor party. At the table on one side of Marsh was his best friend and best man, Brax, who was pretending to pay attention to the hacker speak between his husband, Holt, Agent Farmer, who’d flown up from San Diego, and Jamie Walker, a family friend who used to be an FBI cyber agent and now coached basketball at one of the local Division I colleges.
On Marsh’s other side, a leering Agent Cameron Byrne had his dark eyes trained on the heavily tattooed silver fox behind the bar. Dressed in a pink fringe vest, frayed jeans, and rainbow glitter cuffs that matched his rainbow glitter combat boots, Cam’s husband, San Francisco’s US Attorney, was popping caps off bottles of beer while Jax and Levi slung cocktails.
“If I hadn’t seen him at work,” Marsh said to Cam, “I’d think your husband was more at home behind a bar than in a courtroom.”
“Might still be true,” Cam said with a grin. “Same as your husband.”
Marsh held his beer bottle out for a clink, Cam tapping back with the neck of his. “Touché.” Levi had waited tables all through college and usually played host for his family’s get-togethers in San Diego. As for Dominic Price, not only was he a federal prosecutor, but he also co-owned one of the most popular microbreweries in the Bay Area.
“Last call on the Imperial Stout!” Nic shouted to the crowd, and Cam bolted out of his seat. “That fucker was holding out on me.”
Chuckling, Marsh settled back in his and glanced around again at the charming space, wishing for a place like it in San Diego. A bright, white shiplap roof arched overhead, jewel tone booths and chairs invited guests to get comfy, and a kick-ass bar provided plenty of live-action entertainment. He wasn’t surprised folks gravitated around it. “This place is pretty fantastic.”
Brax glanced around, same as he’d done, but with a certain fondness in his hazel eyes. “Would you believe it was riddled with bullet holes four months ago?”
“Absolutely,” Marsh said with a knowing grin.
Feb had wandered her way into the Madigans’ world—or, more accurately, the Madigans had wandered their way into hers—so yeah, no surprise chaos had erupted. But so too had love for Holt and Brax’s hacker-hunter protégé, Jax.
“But you missed one in the bar.” Marsh pointed at the round hole on the opposite side of the bar from where Levi was mixing what looked like a Negroni.
“Intentional,” Brax said. “Feb thought it gave the place more character.”
Marsh laughed out loud. “No wonder she fits in so well.”
“Hate to interrupt, fellas,” Helena said from over Brax’s shoulder. “But Lily is standing guard by the pantry door. She says David needs protection from, and I quote, ‘that asshole.’”
Marsh’s gut sank, figuring he knew what this was about, at the same time he bit back a laugh imagining Brax’s daughter, tiny fists on her hips, uttering those words. She was as fiery as her red hair—and as quick to pick up words and skills as the rest of her family.
On the other side of Brax, Holt broke midsentence and jerked around in his chair, glaring up at his sister. “And where did she learn that word?”
“No idea,” Auntie Helena said with a flit of her fingers before she danced away.
Brax hung his head, shaking it in defeat. “We’re so doomed.”
Marsh patted his best man’s back. “If you didn’t know that already where Lily was concerned . . .”
“Oh, we know,” Holt said, moving to stand.
“Stay,” Marsh said, already on his feet. “I’ll send her your way.” He caught Levi’s gaze as he wove through the tables, tipping his head toward the kitchen breezeway.
Levi met him there. “What’s going on?”
Marsh hated to deepen the divot that had already formed between his brows. Today was supposed to be filled with fun and smiles, but teenage hearts didn’t care for adults’ timelines. “Boy troubles, I’m afraid.”
Lips pressed together, he took only a second to reach the same conclusion Marsh had. “I haven’t seen Reese since we first got here.”
“Me either.” Hand in the small of his husband’s back, Marsh led him down the breezeway and around the outside edge of the kitchen where February, Hawes, and Celia were prepping dessert trays with Celia’s daughter, Mia.
“Texas!” came a loud, high-pitched shout as soon as they rounded the last corner. In front of the pantry door, Lily looked exactly as Marsh had imagined, red ringlets wild, color high on her freckled cheeks, tiny hands fisted on her hips. “Reese was an as—”
“Language!” David shouted from the other side of the door, and even through wood and over the kitchen noise, Marsh could hear the tears in his voice.
“He left,” Lily declared, standing firm.
“I told him to,” David countered.
Marsh crouched in front of Lily and gently palmed her shoulder. One protector to another. “You did good, sweetheart. Thank you,” he told the tiny, scary tyke. Definitely a Madigan. “We can take it from here.”
She didn’t look convinced. Thankfully, Mia knew the way to her cousin’s heart. “Hey, Lily, you want to help me with these cupcakes?”
She bit her lip, big brown eyes darting between them and Mia. “You got this?”
“We got it,” Levi assured her.
She didn’t need to be told twice, the siren call of frosting too tempting to resist. Marsh accepted Levi’s hand up and mouthed a Thank you to Mia.
