by Lynn Hagen
“I’ll make you some dry toast.”
Cyril got up, and Jeremy glanced at his nicely shaped ass before looking away. The guy must have assumed that moan was from an upset stomach. Fine, he’d let Cyril think that.
Jeremy looked up from his coffee and saw the dogs watching him.
“Your dogs are giving me the death stare,” Jeremy called out, too afraid to make a move, lest the dogs attack. They appeared friendly enough, but Jeremy wasn’t taking his chances.
Cyril came back into the living room. “They’re highly trained attack dogs. You have to be very careful around them. If they smell your fear, they’ll eat you alive.”
“Seriously?” Now Jeremy was even afraid to breathe.
Cyril chuckled. “No. They’re only a year old and will bathe you with their tongues. That’s about it. Samson and Davidson are as friendly as they come.”
“Then why are they staring at me like that?”
“They’re just curious to know who you are.” Cyril snapped his fingers, and the pair got up and walked out of the living room. “I’ll let them outside while I grab your toast.”
Cyril had said all that from behind the couch, robbing Jeremy of seeing his half-naked body again. But he returned with a plate in one hand. The toast smelled divine, but Jeremy wasn’t sure he could stomach the food.
Regardless, he took the plate as Cyril sat. Jeremy clutched the plate in one hand and his mug in the other, forcing himself to stare at his toast. Why did Cyril have to be so fine looking? Why did he have to smell like heaven-wrapped in dirty thoughts?
Why was Jeremy so turned on by him? He was still in mourning, and no one should hold his interest, least of all this tall sexy god that was so tempting that Jeremy wanted to take a bite out of Cyril instead of the toast.
“Can I ask you something?” Cyril braced his elbows on his knees as he turned his head and looked at Jeremy with those alluring gray eyes.
Jeremy nibbled the corner of his toast. “You just did.”
“Wiseass.” Cyril smiled.
Jeremy chewed a little faster, telling his cock to calm the fuck down. Just because Cyril had an amazing smile wasn’t a reason to pop a boner.
“Why’d you get so ripped yesterday?” He entwined his fingers together and gave Jeremy a sincere look. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”
Because I felt like I was betraying Lily’s memory by being so attracted to you. Jeremy took a sip of his coffee. He wasn’t sure what to say since there was no freaking way he was telling Cyril the truth.
“Just…reasons.” He licked the droplets of coffee from his lips and noticed how Cyril watched his mouth. If the guy kept looking at him in that kind of way, Jeremy would be brain dead, because all his blood was rushing south.
“Reasons I can help you with?” Cyril bumped his arm into Jeremy’s. “Everyone could use a friend.”
That was the last thing Jeremy needed from Cyril. What he needed was to get away from the guy and back to his…lonely, drunk existence. But at least that existence was familiar to him. This sudden heart racing, palms sweating, and stomach flipping was taking Jeremy way out of his comfort zone.
“No.” Jeremy licked the crumbs from his fingers. Now that he’d gotten one piece of toast down, he was suddenly starving.
“No you don’t need a friend, or no I can’t help you?” Cyril took a drink from his own coffee mug as he sat back and crossed his ankles. Fuck, even his bare feet were sexy, and feet usually grossed Jeremy out.
“I…” Jeremy bit into the other piece of toast, cramming his mouth full so he wouldn’t have to answer the question.
“Well, you’re stuck with me as a friend, and hopefully, you’ll come to trust me so I can help with whatever is bothering you.” Cyril patted Jeremy’s bare thigh, which was still covered by the blanket. “I need to get ready. The dogs are outside, so feel free to go into the kitchen or use the bathroom without getting mauled.”
Jeremy looked up in time to see Cyril wink. His smile was heart-stopping as he got up and padded away. Jeremy chewed like crazy and used the coffee to wash the toast down.
He got up to take his plate and cup to the sink. Damn. The man’s kitchen was huge and nicely decorated. A plant hung in the window, just over the sink. The wooden table that held four chairs reminded Jeremy of one that might have been in a country kitchen setting.
The floors were made of soft stone, and the cabinets were white with fancy handles. One cupboard was made of smoked glass and between them was a wineglass rack.
He placed his dishes in the sink and then searched for the bathroom. It was down a long, wide hallway, and when Jeremy stepped inside, he was once again impressed. The bathroom was big enough to hold ten men the size of Cyril with room left over. The tub was large, and the counter spanned one wall.
He took care of his business, washed his hands, and went back to the living room to slip his jeans on. At least his cock had softened. Hopefully it stayed that way.
Cyril appeared fully dressed, his hair combed back, and his beard was in one long braid.
Jeremy sat and slipped his sneakers on as Cyril let the dogs in. They came right to Jeremy and sat in front of him, wagging their tails as if begging to be petted.
So Jeremy petted them.
One rolled over and exposed his belly, so Jeremy got to his knees and scrubbed his fur with his hands. The other kept licking Jeremy’s ear.
“I think you’ve made some friends,” Cyril said from behind him. “The one you’re giving belly rubs to is Samson. Davidson is the one trying to lick your ear off.”
The only way to tell them apart was that Samson had one white paw and Davidson didn’t.
Jeremy got to his feet and tried to wipe the hairs from his clothes, which was futile since pet hair clung to clothing. He should know since he had a cat. Thankfully Jeremy didn’t need to go home and let Lady out. He’d filled her bowls before he’d gone on his drinking binge.
That was one thing Jeremy could be proud of. He was an excellent pet parent.
“Ready?”
Jeremy nodded, feeling much better after eating the toast.
“Here.” Cyril handed him two white pills. “Aspirin will help with your hangover.” He gave Jeremy his coffee mug.
Obediently, Jeremy swallowed the pills then sipped from Cyril’s cup. Why did it thrill him to know he was drinking from Cyril’s mug? Jeremy handed it back and headed for the front door, going outside to get as much distance between them as he could.
Samson and Davidson followed him.
“No, go back inside.” Jeremy made a shooing motion with his hands, but they didn’t listen.
Not until Cyril whistled. The dogs raced back inside before Cyril came out, closed the door, and walked to the car.
The sun was just rising, and already the day felt hot as fuck. Cyril touched Jeremy’s lower back, startling him.
“How about I cook you something to eat this morning?” he asked. “You did say you would have breakfast at my diner today.”
Jeremy bit his lower lip. He really wanted to get home but nodded, because he never went back on his word. He wanted to, though. He’d already spent too much time around Cyril and was starting to really like the guy.
Cyril drove to town, giving Jeremy the chance to watch as Maple Grove slowly came to life. The coffee shop, Bistro, was already open, and he saw Sheriff Copache heading into the station with a large coffee cup in his hand.
Moose was right behind the sheriff but looked their way as they passed. His brows furrowed before he followed his boyfriend inside. A few cars passed them on the street, and one or two people were walking down the sidewalk.
Jeremy truly loved this town, even if some of the residents were kooky. Like Mr. Pearl who let his dog crap on other people’s lawns. Or Mr. Hawking who walked outside every morning in his robe and slippers.
His robe always hung open, and the only thing he wore underneath was a pair of bikini underwear. His potbelly usually covered
most of the underwear, so it looked as though he was naked.
Cyril pulled in front of the diner and got out. Jeremy joined him on the sidewalk as he opened the diner and turned the lights on. It felt weird being in there with no other customers.
“Give me a moment and I’ll make your breakfast.”
“You don’t have to rush.” Jeremy took a seat at the counter as Cyril started the coffeepots. When he strode into the back, Jeremy was curious enough to follow. And he was glad he had. It might be a diner kitchen, but damn, it was big with expensive-looking equipment. Cyril didn’t play around when it came to cooking.
“I might be short one server today.” Cyril got busy, turning on the burners of the stove and grabbing things from the fridge. He moved around the room as though being in the kitchen was second nature to him.
Jeremy leaned against the steel prep counter and watched Cyril start his day.
“Heather tried to call off,” Jeremy said.
“You heard my conversation?” Cyril shook his head. “She’s very unreliable, and I’ve given her a lot of breaks. But she’s starting to mess with my business when I have to cook the food and serve it.”
Cyril pulled out some flour and other dry ingredients and measured them into a bowl. Moose had been telling the truth. Cyril was making things from scratch. When he pulled a bowl of blueberries from the fridge, Jeremy’s stomach rumbled as he guessed that Cyril was making waffles.
“Doesn’t her brother work here, too?” The strong smell of coffee wafted through the order window.
“Fred is just as lazy.” Cyril pulled a white apron over his head. “Half the time he’s high as fuck when he shows up late for work. I think I’m gonna have to let him and his sister go. I just need to find good people to replace them.”
Jeremy wandered out of the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee, adding cream and sugar to them before taking Cyril his cup.
“Thanks.” Cyril took a sip. “Shit, you made this perfect.”
Jeremy blushed as he stuck the rim of his mug against his lips to hide his beaming smile at Cyril’s praise.
“Would you mind grabbing the eggs from the fridge?”
After getting the eggs, Jeremy stood next to Cyril and watched him work his magic. He shouldn’t stand that close, but for reasons Jeremy couldn’t understand, he was drawn to Cyril in ways that left him aching and confused.
“Anyone in here?” Moose called out. “Saw you two and figured I could get an early start on breakfast.”
“The way Moose eats,” Cyril said in a conspiratorial whisper, “pays my bills. I don’t know where he puts all that food.”
Jeremy snickered.
“Back here,” Cyril called out.
Moose entered the kitchen and looked the two over. “I know you’re not officially open yet, so if you want, I can serve myself.”
“You can serve the customers, too,” Cyril said. “I told Heather she better be here this morning, but I have a feeling she’ll be a no-show.”
“You giving me a job?” Moose grinned. “Can I eat for free?”
“Hell no,” Cyril said. “I can’t afford to feed your beast.”
Jeremy smiled as they bantered back and forth. Damn it. As much as he wanted to run from Cyril, he also liked the guy and liked hanging around him. He liked Cyril’s personality, his kindness, and the way he had looked out for Jeremy.
But most of all, Jeremy was crazy attracted to the guy, and as much as he wanted to deny what he felt, Jeremy couldn’t make himself leave.
Being around Cyril chased away Jeremy’s cobwebs and was already making his day brighter. He wasn’t going to kid himself, though. He still had his demons, but he could possibly be friends with Cyril.
If he could stop lusting after the guy.
Chapter Three
Cyril had made Jeremy feel like he was the only person in the diner as the guy showed him how to whip up a fantastic breakfast. Jeremy was screwing things up, but Cyril was a patient teacher, never once yelling at Jeremy for burning the scrambled eggs or making the waffles too thick.
Or not cooking them all the way, which had left the inside raw and goopy.
Cooking was not in Jeremy’s wheelhouse, but he’d become a pro in one morning at covertly ogling Cyril’s nicely shaped ass. It seemed the more he tried not to look at Cyril, the more he looked at Cyril.
It was a losing battle.
By eight in the morning, the diner was teeming with customers, and just as Cyril had asked, Moose stayed to serve the customers. He seemed to be a hit and could remember orders without having to write them down.
That was great for Moose, but Jeremy’s memory wasn’t so good, so he had to write down everything that Moose shouted out so he wouldn’t forget.
His fingers were getting cramps.
Fred had shown up, and just as Cyril suspected, the guy seemed high as hell. He moved so slowly that Jeremy’s dead childhood bird could probably do Fred’s job better.
Wow. That thought had been gross as hell. Where had it come from?
Heather hadn’t come to work. Cyril told Jeremy that she was fired and hoped that Moose would stay on.
By lunchtime, Jeremy was exhausted. He had no idea how Cyril did this all day. Jeremy was ready to lie on the floor and call it quits. All Cyril had to do was place one of those plastic yellow signs that read “wet floor” over him so no one would step on Jeremy and he would be just fine.
“Why don’t you have a seat in my office?” Cyril asked as he dropped a batch of chicken into the fryer. The oil bubbled and popped, and the kitchen smelled like heaven. “I’ve worked you hard enough for one day.”
Jeremy couldn’t believe, and wouldn’t admit, that he’d had fun working in Cyril’s kitchen—even though he’d screwed up most of the orders. He had never claimed to be a cook or a fast learner. That was the main reason he’d always ordered his food.
Cyril was currently baking three different kinds of cakes, and they smelled delicious. They smelled so good that Moose had popped his head into the kitchen twice already to ask if they were done.
And Cyril had made all three cakes from scratch. How could Jeremy compete with that? He’d once boiled some water to make some spaghetti and forgot the pot was on the stove.
Jeremy had screwed up boiling water. The water had evaporated, and Jeremy hadn’t realized it until he’d smelled the empty pot burning. Since then he had banned himself from his own kitchen. And he’d been sober that evening, so he couldn’t blame the booze.
Still…
“But you need my help,” Jeremy insisted. He liked working by Cyril’s side and didn’t want the guy disappointed in him. Jeremy wasn’t sure why, though. Cyril was an almost-stranger who had saved him from drunkenly walking down the street, and possibly getting hit by a car, and he had given Jeremy his couch to sleep on and had fed him this morning.
Even after Jeremy had been an asshole to the guy yesterday morning. Did Cyril have wings and a halo tucked away somewhere? No one was that kind to a stranger.
Even so, Cyril had let Jeremy hang out with him at work. Cyril was like the coolest guy Jeremy had ever met. He really was. He had the patience of a saint, a laugh that was deep and sucked a person in, and he was sexy as fuck. Cyril had had Jeremy laughing most of the morning at stories he told about his life.
Like the time Cyril had been out in the woods, had no bathroom near him, so he had hunched down and had been sprayed by a skunk.
Jeremy was still giggling whenever he thought of a skunk spraying him. Poor guy. Cyril must have stunk for a week or more.
Cyril had also traveled the country on his motorcycle before he’d settled down in Maple Grove and opened his own business.
He was someone to look up to, someone Jeremy wished he could be like.
“You also look dead on your feet,” Cyril said. “I have a couch in there. Go ahead and take a nap. When you get up, you can help me again.”
“I’m fine.” And Jeremy was also stubborn when he wante
d to be. If Cyril could work like this all day, then so could Jeremy.
“Okay.” Cyril winked. “Go freshen up the coffeepots and clean any tables that need it.” He handed Jeremy a plastic tub. “Use that to put the dirty dishes in.”
Jeremy felt light on his feet now that he had something to do—something he couldn’t screw up. After cleaning the first table and taking the tub to the kitchen, Cyril stopped him.
“You have flour on your nose.” He used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away.
Jeremy stood there mesmerized, looking into Cyril’s pretty gray eyes. His stomach did flip-flops and his heart beat faster as he waited for Cyril to stop rubbing his nose.
“Got flour anywhere else?” Cyril’s voice had gone low and husky. The way he was looking at Jeremy made Jeremy’s body heat up.
“My dick.” Jeremy’s eyes widened as he dropped the tub, the dishes crashing to the floor as he slapped his hands over his mouth. He couldn’t believe he had said that! He was mortified as he spun and raced for the kitchen door, but Cyril grabbed his arm and stopped him before he could make his escape.
“What’re you running for?” Cyril turned Jeremy to face him. “At least you were honest.”
“I just…and then…the words just…oh crap.” Jeremy palmed his face as his cheeks heated to nuclear levels.
Cyril chuckled. “If you want me to lick my thumb and rub your dick, all you had to do was ask.”
Jeremy lowered his hands. “You are not helping.”
“But I could.” Cyril gave him a seductive smile before he went back to the deep fryer. “And don’t go getting any ideas about running away. As you said, I need your help.”
Jeremy highly doubted that, but he cleaned up the dishes and set them on the counter before rushing out and clearing the next table.
“What was that crash I heard?” Moose grabbed Jeremy’s order pad from his half-apron and scribbled something on it.
“I thought I was having a heart attack, but it turned out to be mild indigestion.” Jeremy looked at the pad and saw it was an order. “I drank some baking soda water, and now I’m freaking fantastic.”
