Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Marshall
He chose a pork chop with a spicy honey, mashed potatoes, and charred carrots—nothing I would have picked on my own—but as Jay watches while I take my first bite, I can’t deny that the moan slipping from my mouth is because it’s delicious and not because I want to see him beam at me—which he does, brilliantly.
“You really like it?” He shifts while waiting for my answer. In all fairness, that could also be because he’s plugged, caged, and wearing panties.
“I do. I’ve never had spicy honey before and certainly never with pork. It’s delicious.”
“Good. The carrots are fab too, but they feel like they’re missing just a little something. I’m still trying to figure out what, and I’ll talk to the chef about it.”
I study him, wondering if he sees how much food means to him. He enjoys waiting tables, working with people, and feeding them, but does he see that he gets jittery with excitement when he speaks about it? That his eyes light up? That food seems to be a part of who he is?
“What?” He wrinkles his cute little nose.
I’m still trying to work through how to talk to him about it because I don’t want Jay to think I’m pushing something on him, or that I think there’s something wrong with him enjoying what he does and not wanting anything more—because there’s not. I don’t care what he does as long as he’s happy, and he clearly is. “Nothing. You should probably get that plugged ass of yours back to work.”
He grins. “Yes, Sir.”
When he walks away, I try the carrots. They taste incredible. I can’t find anything they’re missing, but then, I don’t have a taste for food in the same way Jay seems to. While we said he would cook at least once a week, he’s done so many times over the past eight days. On days he’s not working, he’s been making all the meals.
John and Callie should taste the things he makes. Do they even know this about him?
Likely not, considering I just discovered it, and I’m not confident that Jay has put it all together. As always, thinking about them leaves a gaping wound inside me, and while I’m trying to pretend it’s not there, it continues to grow.
I miss my brother. It’s not as if we talked every day before, but now I want to text him every time I wake up. Want to ask him about work or talk shit with him or just enjoy the banter we’ve always shared. When the only constant in your life is suddenly gone, how do you continue on? I can’t see my life without him in it.
I take another bite of my dinner and look up to find Jay talking to other customers. He’s explaining something to them—they’re nodding in agreement, his personality grabbing them tight and not letting go. He has that effect on people.
He has that effect on me.
And as always, that helps ease the pain of the rest of it, even if only temporarily.
I enjoy watching him the rest of my meal, seeing him shift and move and sometimes walk slightly bowlegged. I can’t help smiling.
Jay checks on me a couple more times, and when he’s not at my table, he often looks at me from across the room. At one point I see him talking to Reggie, the two of them whispering before Reggie looks over at me, one side of his mouth rising mischievously.
When I nod his way, he shoots me a wink, and Jay pokes him in the side before rolling his eyes and heading my direction.
“Can I get you anything else, Sir?”
“Just your ass when you get home tonight.”
He quirks a brow. “Home?”
And yes, I consider it his home too. I’ve never lived with someone before. Is that strange at my age? It doesn’t really matter. I just know I’ve never wanted to give myself to anyone and share with anyone the way I do with him. I want everything.
John flitters through my head again. Moving his son in with me before I even give them a chance to fix things makes my gut feel heavy.
“You know what I mean. And your friend is watching us.”
“My friend knows what I’m wearing, thinks you’re hot, and I believe is getting a little curious,” he says, voice lowered.
I glance at Reggie, who hasn’t stopped looking our way. I’m not opposed to the idea, though the feelings between us have changed. “We’ll discuss it later.” I pull my card out and hand it to him. “Still feeling okay, sweet boy?”
“Like always, you make me feel like I can fly.” Jay walks away, swaying his ass for me.
I’m anxiously waiting for him the rest of the evening. I can’t stop thinking about my collar on him like we talked about, the trust he gave me tonight, knowing that he’s dressed up in the things I chose to put him in.