Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Because, smartass, I always make two, and there’s a half of one left,” I replied smugly. “Have you seen the size of the boys I feed?”
“Fine,” he allowed, “but no. We had a huge lunch today, and you think you’re smart, but I’m a cop and I’ve interrogated thousands, so I ask again—what’s up with your ankle?”
I grunted. “I tripped on the stairs earlier, but don’t tell Sam.”
“Where is he, anyway?”
“He had to go into the office for a couple hours, but he should be home soon.”
“Got it,” he said, and then leaned closer. “I can get you a stool.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but––”
“Why didn’t someone tell me that vile woman called Hannah common?” Aaron snapped as he walked back into the kitchen.
I turned to shoot him a look that should have killed him. “Why are you still harping on this? It was weeks ago.”
“But nobody told me!” he yelled, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “I had to hear it an hour ago from Hannah when I asked her what happened to Kayden after I saw her kiss the blond kid with the ponytail.”
“Jake,” I reminded him for easily the ninth time. “His name is Jake, and what kind of kiss?” I asked him, sharper than I meant to.
“You were in Tokyo,” Duncan reminded him. “You’ve been out of the loop.”
“I’m aware,” he barked at his husband.
“Oh for crissakes, he’s your friend,” Duncan volleyed back.
“Was it a full-on lip-lock, or just a sweet peck on the cheek?” I pressed Aaron.
“I know that, but why did he have to stay with us?”
“Was it just a kiss, or were there arms and legs involved?” I tried to get out of Aaron.
“His house was being renovated, so of course I offered him our spare bedroom and––”
“I hate that he was there while I was gone,” Aaron snapped at him.
“He’s a nice guy,” Duncan stressed to his husband. “And again, your friend, not mine. Yours. If you were here, I’m sure you would have offered.”
“But as you pointed out,” he replied snidely, “I was in Tokyo.”
“He’s gone already. Last night was it.”
“The night I got home, how convenient.”
Duncan rolled his eyes.
“I walk in, hoping to find only you, but no, you’re in the living room laughing and having a good ole time and––”
“Stop,” Duncan ordered, shaking his head. “Please stop.”
“He touches you a lot,” Aaron said flatly. “Do you realize that?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“He wants what’s mine,” Aaron growled, grabbing the potato salad I was pointing at and stomping away with it toward the back door.
I turned to Duncan.
“Why would he ever be jealous? Does he look at himself in the mirror?”
He was right. Aaron Sutter had gone from being a handsome man to a stunning one as he aged. From the dark aqua eyes to the natural golden tan of his skin, and the fact that he smiled all the time, he had become riveting. Between his tireless philanthropy as well as championing the cause of climate change and the unhoused, everyone could see he was beautiful inside and out. Plus, without minimizing any of his physical attributes, the man was, in fact, a billionaire. Catch of a lifetime came to mind.
None of that, however, made him any more confident where the love of his life was concerned. Aaron was ridiculously possessive of Duncan Stiel, and for many reasons, that made me deliriously happy, most of all being that I had once despaired over him finding his other half, and the fact that he had, and I’d been the one to introduce them, was a continual source of both happiness and pride for me. I wasn’t called the love god for nothing.
“Who is this guy?” I asked Duncan.
“His friend Scott Mathison, as in one half of Mathison & Mowry, the guys who sell the space in the buildings after Aaron builds them, and Scott is the one who dates all the models.”
“Oh, that’s right. All the beautiful women.”
“Exactly.”
“So you’re saying the man’s not bi?”
Duncan shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Maybe I’ll buy their house from the bank and evict them,” Aaron said as he walked back in, arms crossed, hugging himself, clearly chilled in only his Equality T-shirt.
“I’m sure their house is paid off,” I said. “Do you want something to wear over that?”
“No,” he replied, walking through the kitchen to the living room and moving his leather racing jacket to grab the shawl-collar sweater of Duncan’s that he’d shed when he came in.
Aaron put the sweater on quickly, and I watched as he put the collar over his nose so he could inhale Duncan’s soap, cologne, or whatever lingered. It hung big on him, since Duncan, like Sam, carried a lot of hard, heavy muscle on his frame.
“Could you come here, please?” Duncan rumbled.
Moving quickly, Aaron crossed the room and stopped close to his husband, scowling darkly up into his face.