Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Thank you.” I nodded, craving the comfort of those words. What Lon didn’t know was my growing ire with Beau’s complete unwillingness to help me navigate our lives. While I had grown into a man with duties and responsibilities, always fighting to be seen older than my years. Beau remained determined to live the life of a younger man. And since I loved my guy more than life itself, I hadn’t said these words to him. Instead, resentment was building for me. “What would you like to drink?”
“A vodka tonic,” he requested and pointed past me toward the bottle of Grey Goose I had purchased for occasions like this. As I poured the drink, Lon browsed through the pictures we had on display to give our home a personal touch. Most of those photos were of Beau, highlighting his rock-climbing escapades and moments when he proudly held a big catch before releasing it back into the lake. He was living his best life. The only photo of me showed me toiling away in my new office. A picture Beau had snapped after I received my junior partner position, and then missed our celebratory dinner. He’d come to my office late one night, surprising me with a meal, and his company.
I gave my head a slight shake to dispel the special memory. I heard Beau’s approach. He clomped around like a yeti in dress shoes.
Stop. I reached for Beau’s preferred IPA and popped the cap. I offered the beer to Beau as he walked into the room and handed over Lon’s vodka with a splash of soda as he tapped on a frame.
“Where’s that?” Lon asked Beau.
Beau leaned in for a closer inspection. “Curacao. Great island. I could live there easily.”
“A tad too humid for me,” I added about the only climb I’d ever been on with Beau before sipping my drink. “The next one’s Pike’s Peak. It was his first 14er climb,” I added, pride again in my guy easily surfacing in my tone.
“Fascinating,” Lon replied. “Meaning fourteen thousand feet in elevation, correct?”
“Exactly,” Beau answered, tilting back the long-neck bottle for a nice-size swig. It was then that I truly noticed him for the first time since entering the room. I had commissioned the suit for Beau after seeing how the fabric matched the amber of his eyes. His sun-kissed skin stood out brilliantly. It didn’t matter how many years passed, I still thought Beau was simply stunning.
“And here,” Lon said, redirecting my wayward attention by pointing at a picture to the right of the previous one.
“Mount. Rainer. That was my first time going solo,” Beau explained.
“The volcano?” Lon asked, surprised.
Beau nodded in confirmation.
“How do you manage such heights?” Lon asked, studying the photo. Before he could respond, he turned to me. “Are you snapping these pictures?”
Beau chuckled at what he thought was a joke. “He’s always working these days. He’d never take a day off, let alone a full week.”
“That’s untrue,” I replied, grinning, shaking my head at the absurdity. Except it was the truth. “I get two weeks off for the holidays.”
“And you spend that time catching up.” My guy’s sweet smile shone brightly at me, pulling me solidly back under his spell. I’d make sure we had sexy time tonight. “Let’s head out.”
“You have a fascinating life,” Lon said, clasping my shoulder, leading the way out first.
15: The Sheets
Beau
The buzz of fluorescent lights followed us through the parking garage then to the elevator. I stifled a yawn, grateful tomorrow was Sunday, and I could sleep in. Dash’s meetings over drinks and dinner tended to last well into the night, which would be fine, but I typically had to rise early for work the next morning. That lack of sleep made the following day feel so much longer.
The elevator doors parted at the press of the call button. As we ascended, Dash extended his hand toward mine. I grasped it, interlocking our fingers. The weight and grip brought back memories of a time when we’d held hands everywhere we went.
As if Dash read my mind, he said, “Not too long ago, I couldn’t have made it five seconds without touching you.”
“We used to spend more time together than apart.” I leaned my ass against the railing in the back of the car. Moments later, the doors spread open.
“I never imagined I’d work this hard,” Dash murmured, holding my hand as we exited the elevator and started down the hall toward our home.
“Me either,” I replied with a sincere chuckle. Dash left the house after me, but always by seven in the morning, and most nights he didn’t return home until after I had gone to bed. The weekend used to be our time together, but those days were only a good memory. Dash now worked seven days a week. I missed our lives together. Tightening my hand holding his, I forced myself out of my head before my thoughts turned darker.