Chapter 13
LOCKE
I felt noticeably better after the shower. Not only had I experienced another fucking fantastic orgasm, but I’d also taken Jett by surprise, which was more fun than I’d expected.
After checking in with the office, I knocked on Jett’s door to inform him it was time for dinner. He stepped out of the room, revealing a set of clothes I’d never seen him in. It was definitely not anything Minnie’s shopper would have selected.
He wore a pair of jeans that were made to worship his body and a tight white cotton tank covered by a partially open denim snap-front shirt that looked like it had been through a thousand washes.
The sleeves were rolled up, and he’d added a couple of necklaces, as well as a few silver rings on his fingers.
My heart rate increased. “I see you didn’t take advantage of your new wardrobe.”
He lifted his eyebrows in challenge. “You don’t like the way I look?”
“That’s not what I said.” How I felt about his looks was irrelevant.
He nodded and tried holding back a smile. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”
As he passed me, I muttered an expletive that he caught.
The sound of his laughter in the open hallway made me smile against my will.
Being here with the provoking playboy was a nice distraction.
Had I shown up alone again, memories of my grandfather might have overwhelmed me, which wouldn’t have helped me get into the necessary mindset for the Paxis tournament.
I was counting on Jett to keep things shallow. Physical. Distracting.
When we arrived in the main gathering room at the center of the house, Concetta was there to lead us to the dining room.
“The chef kept it simple tonight with a salad, grilled fish, and a little sorbet for something sweet at the end.”
“Perfect,” I said, thanking her again and gesturing for Jett to take the seat next to mine.
As he pulled the cloth napkin into his lap, he made a point of eying the large table. “We could have eaten in the kitchen since it’s just the two of us.”
“The kitchen doesn’t have the view,” I said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Roberto would have put a curse on us if we dared trespass on his territory. My grandfather was the only one who could sneak in there and share a coffee with the temperamental chef.”
“Not misbehaving little boys like you?” Jett asked, a knowing sparkle in his eyes.
“He once smacked me with a wooden spoon. I won’t be taking any chances.”
The sound of his laugh relaxed me enough to smile back as an attendant came in with our salads. Once she was gone, Jett breathed out a “Holy shit, this looks amazing” under his breath.
“Welcome to Italy, where everything is fresh and local. You’ll discover why I keep on an abusive chef.”
He took a bite and groaned, the sound giving me pleasure in multiple ways. I liked watching him eat. Even though it had been over three years, I hadn’t forgotten how skinny he’d been in Amsterdam. How he’d attacked the food I’d ordered like a man starved.
Feeding him was satisfying. Making him happy was addictive.
“What are your favorite foods?” I asked, trying to make it sound like nothing more than polite conversation. As his host, providing for him was my responsibility. That was all.
“Mm, well, this goes on the list now. Fresh tomatoes, balsamic. Basil. To die for. But I also like the usual suspects. Pizza, pad Thai, a good filet. Sushi, if it’s fresh. What about you?”
The reminder that he had wealthy men buying him sushi and steak was unwanted. I batted it away in my mind.
“Agreed on the filet. There’s a shrimp fra diavalo at a restaurant in LA I can’t get enough of. And I’m secretly addicted to a chocolate tea biscuit you can only get online or in Europe. Minnie always has a stash in the office for very bad days.”
Jett laughed. “I can’t imagine you sulking in your office with a sneaky packet of chocolate cookies. What does that even look like?”
I pointed to my face without changing my expression. “Like this.”
His laughter made me imagine pulling him into my lap. Something I would never do with a man in a million years.
“You’re terrifying,” he said through his smile. “People must quake in their boots on your bad days.”
We finished our salads and started on the fish, which was served alongside a fresh lemon and caper pasta dish.
Jett acted like he’d never had food before, the way he ooh’d and ahh’d over it.
Concetta was in seventh heaven, and I could tell she couldn’t wait to report back to Roberto that he had a new fan in the house.
“Tell me about your family,” I said, curious whether he would explain the discrepancy between the single-mom story in his background investigation and the dads he’d mentioned.
It was possible he had a single mother and a biological father who was married to another man, but he’d never mentioned a mother.
He swallowed and nodded, looking suddenly serious. “I, ah… I have two dads. I told you that. And a brother and sister. Gabe and Becca.”
I nodded but didn’t speak and risk derailing him. Maybe they were half siblings or stepsiblings.
“I grew up at the beach. Went crabbing. My dads met there as kids and then met again later.” He glanced out at the sea. “We all like to go out on the water. Sailing, skiing, paddling. Doesn’t matter. I love being on a boat.”
He seemed to realize something because his eyes widened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Sorry for what?”
“Your dad. Didn’t he die in a boating accident? I thought I read online—”
I nodded and inhaled before explaining. “That’s the official story. And it’s true in a way. But he and his mistress had high levels of alcohol and party drugs in their system. The authorities think the two of them passed out before the waves pushed them into the rocks.”
“Jesus. I’m… I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be. My father made his choices. He dishonored our legacy with his death. It crushed my grandfather. Imagine a Maris being such a fucking idiot on a boat. Besides, we were never close. He wasn’t that type of father.”
The kitchen attendant came in to remove our plates. Awkward silence filled the room after she left. Jett pushed his chair back and moved over to mine, pulling it away from the edge of the table until I was angled toward the view of the water.
Then he climbed into my lap, straddling me and wrapping his arms around my neck to hug me tightly.
I froze. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“We’ve talked about this before,” he said with a familiar smile in his voice. “This is a hug. I’m hugging you.”
“Nobody asked you for a hug.”
“Aren’t you lucky I didn’t make you ask.”
His breath was warm against my neck. I sank into the feeling and let myself hug him back for the briefest of moments.
He was solid and warm, provoking as fuck, but also somehow comforting.
I trusted him. Which was a distinctly bad idea.
“Oh!” Concetta came to a stop inside the door to the kitchen. Jett’s entire body stiffened.
When Jett tried to leap out of my embrace, I tightened my arms around him and murmured, “It’s okay.”
He pulled back and stared at me in shock while I turned to Concetta. “He’s feeling sorry for me because he accidentally brought up my father’s death.”
The transformation on her face was almost comical. If she’d been off the clock or elsewhere, she would have surely spit on the ground in disgust. Instead, she shook her head and murmured, “Che stronzo!”
Thankfully, it was clear she was referring to my father, not Jett.
Jett snorted in surprise and climbed off my lap before taking his chair again. “Tell us how you really feel, Concetta.”
She grunted and pursed her lips before bringing us two bowls of lemon sorbet with a little delicate cookie on the side of each. “Dessert. Fresh made today. Enjoy.”
She winked at me before turning toward the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, Jett glared at me. “I’m not the first man you’ve brought here.”
I was taken aback by his question. Rather, his accusation. As if my housekeeper’s cheeky wink had implied I was a player or liar.
And it bothered him.
While I relished his obvious annoyance, I wasn’t cruel enough to let an untruth stand. “That is correct. I once brought my college roommate.” I hesitated before adding, “But I never touched his dick.”
I could tell he was still unsure.
“Jett. I’ve never done anything sexual with a man before you.
I’m simply not stressed about what Concetta thinks for a number of reasons.
First, her brother is gay. I know this because she took me shopping in town one time, and we ran into him with his, quote, boy toy.
Second, the staff here are discreet and loyal.
They take great pride in protecting the Maris name.
She would never tell anyone my private business, and she’s rewarded handsomely for it. Finally…”
I leaned forward and reached for his hand, pulling him out of his seat until he reluctantly climbed into my lap again.
Then I continued. “I am not embarrassed by my attraction to you, Jett. Only surprised by it.”
I moved my hands inside the denim shirt that perfectly matched his eyes. My hands cupped his rounded shoulders and then moved down over his chest.
Jett still seemed unsure. His eyes watched me with a thread of suspicion and disbelief.
“You’ve been very dismissive,” he said carefully.
“How so?”
Instead of answering me, he stared at my lips before leaning forward and kissing me. He approached me slowly enough that I could have dumped him on his ass, but then I wouldn’t have been able to surprise him again by accepting the gesture.
I cupped his cheek and kissed him back slowly. More slowly than he apparently wanted. He let out a grunt of annoyance that only made me smile and pull back a little.
“Patience, Jethro,” I whispered.
“It’s Jett,” he grumbled before kissing me again.
I pulled back, just enough to smirk but not enough to risk ending the kiss. “Is it?”
He had to know I had his legal name now, and it was Jethro Benjamin Davis. I’d seen it on his passport myself.