Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Dante lay in bed listening to Shannon move around the kitchen. Yesterday he’d hauled his motorbike out of the fish trailer and taken off for most of the day. Which shouldn’t have bothered him…he should’ve been glad to have the place to himself, but it felt like Shannon was avoiding him.
Had they gotten too personal over pizza?
Or had that ship sailed when they’d stripped and showered?
He dragged himself out of bed and pulled on trackpants before padding out to the kitchen. Shannon was standing at the counter eating an omelet and drinking coffee from an oversized soup mug.
“Hey.” He took another forkful of omelet. “I’d offer to make you one, but I have to leave in five.”
“That’s okay, I can make my own breakfast.”
“I saw your collection of cereal.”
“Are you judging?”
He shook his head. “I thought you’d be eating a proper breakfast before bashing metal.”
“I have a proper morning tea, lunch and dinner.” He couldn’t face cooking first thing in the morning.
Shannon had returned from his ride with a backpack full of groceries and made some kind of chicken curry, which he’d offered to Dante.
He’d refused even though it smelled amazing, and much better than what he tended to make.
The leftovers Shannon had boxed up and put some in the freezer and some in the fridge, keeping everything organized and on his two shelves like he understood how to make the best use of every inch.
Dante poured cereal into a bowl and added milk before walking around to sit at the table like a civilized person. He was not bolting down food at the counter as if he was about to get yelled at by a drill sergeant. “You can sit.”
Shannon shook his head, then took a large swallow of coffee. “If I sit, I’ll get comfy, and then I’ll be late.” He tapped his phone screen. “I sit for lunch and dinner.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I make pancakes.” Which he rarely did because there was no point when it was just him. But when he had a lodger, sometimes he did. He sometimes put on a roast or slow-cooked some ribs, usually the weekend before they moved out.
Shannon moaned, which made Dante’s dick twitch at the memory of another way to make him groan. “I love pancakes, and I haven’t had them in ages. My ex was too worried about what he looked like, which meant anything I ate was considered sabotage.”
“He sounds painful.”
Shannon paused, then nodded. “Yeah. He was.” He finished his coffee and put the mug in the dishwasher. “Whatever that coffee is, I like it. I’ll buy a bag of beans.”
“It’s fine. Tea and coffee are included.”
“Are you sure? Because I saw the way you looked at the mug.” He ate the last bite of omelet and rinsed the plate while still chewing. It all seemed very precise, like he knew exactly how to get out the door on time.
“It’s a lot of coffee.”
“That’s the idea.” He patted his pocket, grabbed his phone, and took a chicken curry out of the fridge. “Fingers crossed I’m back for dinner. Need me to do anything or pick up anything on my way?”
He was starting to see why people saw Shannon’s kindness and bled him dry. “How about you let me worry about dinner? And if there’s some kind of food-related emergency, I am quite capable of driving to the grocery store.”
Shannon blinked. “Yeah, of course.” He shook his head. “It’s me; I encourage people to use me.”
“That’s not what I was getting at.” It kind of was, but not in those words. “You’re a generous, caring person and maybe some people see that and take advantage.”
Shannon’s eyebrows lifted as if he was thinking of something else. “I’m so tempted to make a quip, but yesterday I promised myself that I wasn’t going to make things weird or uncomfortable.”
He tried not to be disappointed even though that was the smart thing to do. “Go, so you aren’t late.”
He gave Dante a mock salute, which was insulting as he was not an officer, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving it looking like he’d never been there, which was more than he could say about some of his previous lodgers.
A few minutes later, his SUV started up, and then he was gone.
For several heartbeats, Dante sat at the kitchen table with his half-eaten bowl of cereal.
Usually, he was relieved when his lodger went to work and he had the house to himself.
But yesterday, he’d noticed a creeping disappointment that Shannon had left for the entire day, and today, the house felt far more empty than usual.
It was ridiculous. He was used to living by himself. He liked living by himself after being on bases surrounded by hundreds or thousands of people. He could spend the day in the workshop banging around without disturbing anyone or answering to anyone. No one expected anything from him.
Hell, if he didn’t make dinner, he was sure Shannon wouldn’t complain. If he sent a text saying he got busy, he was sure Shannon would pick up something for both of them, and that was the last thing Dante wanted.
He ate the rest of his cereal without really tasting it, his thoughts tumbling between Shannon, dinner, and the stock take that needed doing so he could order more supplies.
Usually the idea of doing a supply run was exciting as it meant going away for a night, maybe two, and in the city, he didn’t have to worry about running into people he might know.
He raked his fingers through his hair and slouched in the chair, not wanting to admit that he didn’t want an anonymous hook-up. He wanted Shannon.
“Dumb move, Cutler.” Though he wasn’t sure which move he was referring to. Had it been turning up at Shannon’s motel room?
Or before that, encouraging his flirting at Pride when he should’ve been focused on selling his knives and chopping boards?
Or maybe it was agreeing that he could rent the room, putting them under the same roof and allowing temptation to grow.
He was not sixteen, and he would not be led around by his dick, nor was he twenty-six and ignoring what was definitely a bad idea.
He was older, wiser, and definitely able to ignore the confident, sexy paramedic who kept smiling at him like bad ideas didn’t exist.