Chapter Ten
Cody
Ashower was a necessity as my cum had gone everywhere.
Everywhere.
While I started to make dinner, Lorcan insisted on cleaning the couch. He was also the one who put the laundry in the machine and turned it on.
He wore my bathrobe. A tight fit and I loved being able to look at his sexy knees, calves, and feet.
I’d thrown on an old T-shirt and a pair of sleep pants. No way was I going anywhere tonight.
When he’d finished cleaning everything—and even returned the cleaning solution to the cupboard under the sink—he slid onto one of my four barstools at the island in the kitchen.
I’d put the spaghetti noodles in a pot of boiling water and was keeping an eye on that while defrosting the veggie meatballs.
He picked up the box and read.
Well, squinted.
“Do you own reading glasses?”
He arched an eyebrow at me. Then rolled his eyes. “I have a pair. They’re in my truck.”
“And you remember to take them in at night so you’re not squinting?”
“I can adjust the font on my e-reader.”
“Ah.” I opened a jar of tomato sauce. Then I added a second because I loved leftovers. I wouldn’t have to cook as much this week—which was always a relief. I came home tired and often just wanted to flake out. “Do you have any allergies?”
He shook his head.
“Cool.” I pulled out a container of parsley as well as garlic salt. As I stirred the noodles, I met his gaze. “I think there’s a hockey game on tonight.”
Night had fallen, and the twinkling lights of the plaza and the highway were in the near ground while the blackness was the river and, farther away, the mountains and volcano. Somehow, I always felt reassured they were out there somewhere—even in the shroud of darkness.
“Yeah?” He turned to gaze at the television. “Somehow I figured you’d have a smaller screen.”
I cocked my head.
He turned back and shrugged. “You seem…like television isn’t the be-all and end-all for you.”
“Well, that’s true. I bought the biggest screen that would comfortably fit in the space. Some of my neighbors have much-larger televisions, but I don’t figure they can see the entire screen.”
“Ouch.”
“How about you?” I pulled a fry pan out of the cupboard, turned on the burner, added a touch of oil, then dumped the thawed meatballs in. The oil started to spit as the pan heated.
He sighed. “I had to sell my television—the thing was new and worth money. I found an old tube television for free on a recycling website. In fact, I found a bunch of things on that site—helped me rebuild my life. The lamps are kitschy. The couch is funky.”
“And uncomfortable.”
“And uncomfortable. But one doesn’t sneer at free.”
“No, certainly not.” I turned down the temperature on the noodles. “There’s something to be said for a pared-down life.”
“If you’re the one choosing it.”
Our gazes caught.
I nodded. “Point made.”
He waved his hand as if dismissing the thought. “I want to say I’ve been humbled by all this—and I have. Some total strangers have been incredibly kind. I’ve done what I can to give back. That said, few people want an accused embezzler in their midst.”
I lowered the heat on the meatballs. I put a strainer in the sink, and then—very carefully—I dumped in the noodles and hot water.
Because I was careful, the steam didn’t hit me in the face.
I put the pot in the sink, shook the excess water from the noodles, then poured them back into the pot.
Finally, I put the pot back on the stove.
Quickly, I added the tomato pasta sauce and the meatballs.
I adjusted the temperature and started stirring.
“Interesting.”
I met Lorcan’s gaze and raised an eyebrow.
“My ex—” He cleared his throat. “He said you should never mix the pasta sauce and the noodles.”
“Ah. Well, this is not a five-star dining establishment. Or anything close. I’m lazy—if everything gets mixed together, then I have fewer pots, fewer serving instruments, and fewer dishes to clean.
Also, this’ll all go in one large container as well as several small ones for lunches next week. I’m all about simplicity.”
“My ex was a jackass.”
I chuckled. “I’ve been taught to never speak badly of other people—because I can’t know what’s going on in their lives. On the other hand, most of the time I need to validate my patient’s feelings.”
“I’m not your patient.”
“Nope.” I popped the p. “So I can agree your ex is a jackass.”
“Thank you.” He laughed. “Yeah, I like the Canucks. Who are they playing? I haven’t, uh, really kept up. I just have super-basic cable. I don’t have any of the specialty channels.”
“Ah, that’s fair. This is Hockey Night in Canada. Canucks versus the Maple Leafs.” I continued to stir the spaghetti. “Oh crap. Secret ingredient. Close your eyes.”
He arched an eyebrow.
I put my hand on my hip. “No one—and I mean no one is allowed to know Aunt Genessa’s secret ingredient.”
He rolled his eyes. “Who exactly am I going to tell?”
“Well… I don’t know. Some criminal gang might kidnap you and torture you until you tell them.”
He laughed. “How about I go find the Vancouver versus Toronto game on your big-screen television and you can add this super-secret ingredient?” He pointed at me. “But if I guess correctly, you have to admit it.”
“You’ll never guess.” I puffed out my chest with absolute confidence.
He leaned over the bar.
I met him halfway.
We kissed.
He smiled, then sauntered away.
I grabbed the secret ingredient from the fridge, added a couple of tablespoons, and put it back. I glanced over to see if he was cheating, but his concentration was fully on the remote and the television.
“Hey, game starts in eight minutes.”
“Perfect.” I grabbed two of my nice plates.
My china plates, to be exact. Aunt Genessa had gifted these to me when I took possession of the condo.
They had been part of her trousseau when she was supposed to marry her childhood sweetheart.
He died a week before the wedding in a tragic car accident up near Crow’s Nest Pass.
Genessa tried to give back the gifts, but most people insisted she keep them for when she found another husband.
Which, of course, never happened.
When she moved into her own condo, she had just about everything she needed to start her life as a single woman.
The china set suited her sensibilities—a rich cream color with gold accents. Admittedly, I didn’t use this often—I wasn’t a fan of handwashing things. Still, Lorcan deserved the best.
I dished out two servings and put them on the island. “It’s ready.” I went to the fridge to grab the parmesan.
“This smells amazing. I can’t remember the last time someone—” He winced. “Actually, I probably could. Well…maybe. I did most of the cooking, and I swore I wasn’t going to talk about him anymore.”
I reached for his hand that rested on the island. I squeezed. “Jackass will always be part of your past. I’m not hurt when you talk about him. In fact, I’m hoping the venting is allowing you some perspective.”
“But I should save it for my time with Justin?”
“Yes, you should share everything with him that you’re sharing with me.
” Well, I’d prefer my coworker not know that I had your cock down my throat on our first date, but whatever.
“He won’t judge. Just like I’m not judging.
” I released his hand so I could hand him the parmesan cheese.
“But you can also tell me anything. As a potential partner—and maybe even Daddy—I need to know what your triggers are.”
“Like I should know things for you?”
His insight hit hard. Because no way could I tell him about my biggest trigger—which was also my biggest failure. “Uh, sure.” I gestured for him to pour the cheese if he was interested.
He was, and he sprinkled his pasta with the cheese. Then he handed the container to me. “Do you want to sit in front of the television or at the table? One is far more civilized.”
I waved him off. “You don’t get to watch much hockey—let’s enjoy ourselves.” I snagged a couple of cloth napkins from a drawer.
His eyebrows shot up at the sight. “Really?”
“Better than paper napkins—those are bad for the environment, and I only use them when I don’t have any other choice.”
He chuckled. “I have a stash of the paper ones from when I visit a fast-food joint.”
“Not really healthy.”
“Or good for my wallet.”
We sat on the couch.
Vancouver won the face-off.
We consumed our meals in silence as Toronto took a commanding three-to-one lead after the first period.
Lorcan grabbed our plates and headed to the kitchen. “Do you want anything else?”
“I think that should be my question.” I leaned back and grinned. “You still haven’t guessed the secret ingredient.”
“What do I get if I win?” He filled the sink with hot water and dish soap. I felt a little guilty. Normally I would’ve helped, but I sensed he needed a break—and not just from our team losing.
“Something sweet?” He opened a cupboard.
“What are you looking for? And yes, something sweet.”
“A container for the leftovers.”
“Top right.”
He opened the cupboard. “Ah, got it. Thanks.” He sniffed the pasta. “I’m clueless. Oh, wait a minute.” He headed toward the fridge.
“That’s cheating.”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t.” He grinned. “And it’s process of elimination, right? Now, what do I get if I guess correctly?”
“I happen to have a toy for you.”
He stilled.
Shit. Did I say the wrong thing?
“What kind of toy?”
“A, uh, chew toy.”
His dark-brown eyes lit. “Well, I better guess correctly.” He opened the fridge. And stood there for a good minute.
The warning beep went off, letting him know the door was still open.
“Maple syrup?”
I’d never been so happy to lose a bet. “Yep. You guessed it. Aunt Genessa’s secret. No revealing it, okay?”
He closed the fridge door. Then he emptied the leftover spaghetti into the container. “My lips are sealed. Even gangsters won’t get me to reveal your aunt’s secret. She sounds like a neat lady.”
“She is. I’m blessed every day I have her in my life.”
“That’s nice.” He secured the lid and then put the container in the fridge. He washed the dishes and put them in the drying rack he’d pulled out from under the sink.
Play resumed. “You don’t want to miss it.”
“I want to get the rest of the dishes washed and the pots into the dishwasher. I can hear the announcers just fine from here.” He continued loading the various pots and pans.
The Leafs scored a power play goal.
“Man, the Canucks are in trouble. That was a bullshit penalty the ref called that previous play.” I beat my fingers rhythmically on the couch.
“What was the call?” He closed the dishwasher door.
I figured that, as a contractor, he probably knew how to run a dishwasher—even if I’d needed to consult the manual the first time. “High sticking.”
“Ah.” He made his way over to me.
I arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to watch the game, or would you like your toy?”
“If it squeaks, that might interrupt your concentration.”
After considering, I shut the television off.
He didn’t appear the least bit disappointed.
If the score had been closer—or if Vancouver had a chance of winning—I might’ve kept it on. As things stood, they were about to lose their fourth game in a row.
I patted the couch. “Wait here.” I stood and made my way to my bedroom.
I didn’t need much time to find the stash of toys I’d bought at the pet store yesterday after work.
Gallia, the sales assistant, had asked questions about my puppy.
I’d been appropriately vague. I had some idea of what I wanted—but I also wanted assurances the toys weren’t toxic to humans.
I made up a story about a beloved niece who put everything into her mouth.
Did I feel guilty? Yep. Was I going to tell the nice, bubbly woman the truth? Nope.
After washing everything, I’d put them in a bin at the top of my walk-in closet—ready for whenever the opportunity might arise. I also had a couple of things in my SUV. Never hurt to be prepared for any potential opportunity to play.
As I entered the living room, I squeaked the toy.
Lorcan, who sat on his knees, poked his head above the back of the couch. His eyes lit with enthusiasm.
I plopped onto the throw rug and patted the spot next to me.
With little difficulty, he sank beside me—again, on his knees.
“Is that going to hurt?”
“I don’t care.” His gaze darted between me and the toy.
“Well, I care. If I’m to be your Daddy, then I need to make certain your needs are met—that includes your health.”
He nodded. “They’re okay. As you know, I do a lot of bending in construction. My knees have held up pretty well.”
I’d have to take his word for it.
Since he was already sitting, I held the toy out.
He leaned forward.
I allowed him to take it in his mouth.
Slowly, he squeezed it between his teeth.
The rubber squirrel squeaked.
Again, his eyes danced with joy.
Maybe this can work.