by Shea Balik
Joel stilled a moment. “That might just be something to consider. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to work with that high-handed bully,” Joel said vehemently.
He knew Syn thought the two would end up together, but PJ was starting to have his doubts. Joel clearly didn’t like Devlin in the least. “Well, if you decide you can’t take it, let me know. I’ll be happy to have you.”
The rest of the fourth floor went quickly as Joel had made sure each detail was complete. The top floor would be a little more difficult as it was the only one that had been torn apart and now would need to be redesigned.
The elevator, which used to open up to a beautiful foyer, now opened up to the penthouse. The large foyer was still there, but instead of being able to see a bank of windows that covered the entire expanse of the fourth floor, he saw walls with four doors.
Each suite took up one-fourth of the space, minus the elevator and foyer. Joel opened up the door to the right of the elevator first. “This one and the one on the other side of the elevator will be the guest suites.”
Syn had called them guest suites, but PJ had the feeling he had plans for who would get them in the end. But for now, they remained empty and unfinished as there wasn’t time to get them done in time for the club opening. It would be a challenge to get Devlin and Manuel’s done as it was.
Then Joel took him to the suite next door. “This will be Devlin’s but he refused to tell me what he wants for the décor, insisting he will talk to you himself.”
God save him from Doms. PJ was ready to throw the lot of them off the Sunshine Skyway Bridge and be done with them.
Then they went into Manuel’s suite to find Manuel there waiting. “PJ, Joel, glad I caught you. I’ve been thinking about what I want, and I believe I’ve figured it out.
By the time they were finished, PJ was in pain and unable to hide it when Syn came to get him. By the lines around Syn’s mouth, he wasn’t happy, and PJ had the feeling he was about to get a lecture.
Chapter Sixteen
The moment he walked into Manuel’s penthouse, Syn could see the pain that was etched in the lines that had appeared on PJ’s face. His little love was so tired, he could hardly keep his eyes open, yet he still typed away into his tablet.
Pissed that he’d hadn’t checked on PJ sooner, Syn went right up to PJ and picked him up out of the chair, cradling him against his chest. “Joel, follow us with his crutches.”
Either PJ was in too much pain to argue about Syn’s caveman tactics, or he knew just how upset Syn was and wisely kept his mouth shut. He was betting on the former as PJ’s eyes closed in exhaustion as his head sank against his shoulder.
“Thank you, Joel,” Syn said when his assistant ran in front of them to grab the elevator. He did the same at the front door and even opened the passenger side door of the SUV. Then, while Syn got PJ settled onto his seat and belted him in, PJ’s head just lolled on the head rest. Joel stored the crutches into the backseat.
“Do you need me to follow you?” Joel asked.
Syn shook his head, too afraid he might start yelling if he said anything. How no one thought PJ barely able to keep his eyes open wasn’t something they should tell Syn, pissed him off. He also knew it wasn’t their responsibility to watch out for PJ. That didn’t mean they shouldn’t have though.
“Tell PJ I’ll have everything he requested done, and I will set up the subcontractors for the penthouse suites,” Joel said as Syn got behind the wheel.
Though didn’t bother to acknowledge Joel, his assistant knew he’d heard him. The whole way home, PJ groaned in pain and Syn had to grit his teeth not to start in on him for continuing working when he was clearly in agony.
If he hadn’t been so worried that PJ would kick him out once his cast was off, Syn might have done a better job watching his little love. But he’d been terrified that now that PJ no longer needed Syn, he would insist he leave. It wasn’t an excuse for not making sure PJ was okay, but it happened and now Syn would have to deal with the consequences.
The only good thing that came of it was his determination not to let PJ kick him to the curb. He would never force PJ, but that didn’t mean Syn wouldn’t use every tactic he had to convince PJ they were meant to be together. Giving PJ space to figure things out on his own hadn’t worked. Now it was time for Syn to be the Dom he was.
“You okay?” Syn asked after an especially painful moan from PJ.
“No. I never should have worked so long.” That PJ was willing to admit that appeased some of the anger Syn had been holding onto.
If only he could stop being upset with himself for how he’d handled things since he’d gotten up that morning. He knew PJ had been confused at his remoteness. But Syn had never been that afraid before. Not even when PJ told him to leave thirteen years ago had Syn felt such a bone-chilling terror.
He was too young and stupid to believe it could have been over between them. That overconfident idiot he’d been had actually believed PJ would one day come crawling back, begging Syn to take care of him. But he hadn’t. In the end it was Syn who upended his world to go in search of the man he’d always known was his.
Faced with PJ becoming independent with the cast coming off, Syn had been panicked that PJ would once more tell him to leave. Time had taught him, not everything worked out just because they loved each other. This time, Syn feared if PJ kicked him out, they would never get their happily ever after. That was something he just couldn’t allow.
When he parked in PJ’s driveway, Syn didn’t bother with the crutches. Once more he carried the love of his life in his arms, cherishing how his smaller body felt against his. “Come on, my little love. Let’s get you into bed and something for the pain.”
He could feel PJ’s head move against his shoulder. “I need something to eat,” he mumbled.
Damn, Syn really had dropped the ball. It was nearly four in the afternoon and they hadn’t eaten lunch. He was turning out to be a lousy Dom. Then again, since the moment PJ had asked him to leave on his parents’ porch thirteen years ago, Syn hadn’t been much of a man, much less a Dom. But that was going to change. Starting now.
“I’ll make you a sandwich, then it’s right to bed.” Syn took PJ into the kitchen and set him on one of the barstools that faced the large island.
PJ instantly laid his head on the top as if he were too tired to stay awake. “I hurt,” he moaned.
Syn already had the turkey, cheese, and bread out and was putting a bit of mustard on the bread, just the way PJ liked it. “Why didn’t you stop earlier?” Syn asked as he placed two slices of turkey and cheese on the bread before handing it to PJ to eat.
“Because I didn’t want to go home,” PJ said as he took a bite and started chewing.
Syn wanted to ask why, but he first needed to finish taking care of his little love. Quickly, he strode into the bathroom and got a pain pill. Going back into the kitchen he was pleased to see PJ had finished about a quarter of his sandwich. Syn opened the fridge and pulled out a juice box, knowing PJ loved the grape ones above any other drink.
When PJ was halfway done with his sandwich, Syn handed him the pill and the now opened juice box. “Here. Take this,” he ordered. Once PJ had, Syn relaxed a bit and asked, “So why didn’t you want to come home?”
PJ’s face, which had been pale and pinched with pain, bloomed a rosy hue. “Nothing,” he mumbled and took another bite of his sandwich. Then, in what Syn assumed was a change of subject, he put the remains of his sandwich down and said, “I can’t eat any more. I think I need to get to bed.”
Since that was exactly where his little love needed to be, Syn wasn’t going to argue, but he also wasn’t going to drop why PJ hadn’t wanted to come home. He would just wait until the pill had a chance to loosen PJ’s tongue first.
Underhanded? Definitely. But Syn didn’t care. He knew his time was limited to convince PJ to give them a chance and he would use whatever means necessary to do just that. After seeing PJ to the b
athroom and then tucking him in, he noticed the glassy-eyed look that said the pain pills were taking effect.
“Any reason you didn’t want to come home?” he whispered just loud enough for PJ to hear, but softly enough that it didn’t put him on alert.
PJ’s eyelids opened and those sweet brown eyes stared right up at him. It was obvious PJ wasn’t sure if he was awake or dreaming as he blinked and tried to focus. Then he gave Syn a loopy smile and raised one arm up to touch Syn’s face. “I was afraid you’d leave now that I’m better,” PJ admitted.
But it was what he said next that had Syn’s heart racing. “I tried not to fall in love with you again.” Then he gave a soft sigh. “If only I had realized how stupid I was to think that I’d ever stopped loving you.”
Those eyes that Syn could stare into for the rest of his life closed once more and PJ’s soft snores of sleep rose up to greet him. Syn leaned down and gently kissed PJ’s forehead. “I’ve never stopped loving you either, my little love,” he murmured so as not to wake PJ.
For a moment he was tempted to crawl into bed and curl up next to PJ, but it was nearly time to pick up Emma, and with Daniel still barely speaking to either Syn or PJ, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer if he tried to call him to ask him to do it.
Syn gave himself another minute to stare at the man who’d stolen his heart all those years ago before heading into the kitchen to clean up and figure out what to cook for dinner. That morning, he’d nearly cried as he thought that PJ would demand he leave. But now…well, now he felt like celebrating, and he knew just how to do it.
Chapter Seventeen
PJ groaned as something woke him from his much-needed nap. He’d stupidly pushed himself too hard that afternoon, and ended up paying the price with more pain than he’d had since the first couple of weeks of rehab. He wiggled his foot a bit and was relieved that, even though there was still an ache, most of the throbbing agony had dissipated.
That’s when he knew what woke him up. The aroma of pasta. Except, PJ was sure that wasn’t just any pasta he was smelling. It was Syn’s lasagna. The man should have been a chef with his talent in the kitchen. During college PJ had gained ten pounds the first year they’d lived together.
He actually had to join a gym just to keep the calories from adding on any further. It was worth it. No matter what Syn made, PJ just couldn’t get enough. But it was his lasagna that he loved the most. It was a treat Syn often made him.
He had no idea what made him decide to cook his favorite dish tonight, but PJ prayed it wasn’t a good-bye dinner. He just didn’t think he would be able to eat a bite if it was.
“Ah, good you’re up,” Syn said as he entered the bedroom. “Dinner is just about ready.”
“Is that lasagna I’m smelling?” PJ asked hopefully.
When Syn leaned over the bed and dropped a kiss on PJ’s lips and then smiled down at him, his eyes sparkling with happiness as if this was the most natural thing in the world, PJ lost the ability to think. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how to breathe.
“Yes, my little love.” Syn kissed him again and PJ leaned even closer. “I thought we should celebrate you getting your cast off.”
PJ wasn’t sure if he was still a bit loopy from the pain pills or the kiss, but before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Are you planning on leaving me again?”
The moment the words were out PJ slammed his eyes closed as fear swamped him. Suddenly he didn’t want to know. If Syn was going to leave, he’d like to have this nice dinner believing otherwise. He lifted his hands up and covered his ears, intent on not allowing Syn to tell him that he was, in fact, leaving.
Hands wrapped around his wrists and pulled them away from his ears. When Syn’s deep voice ordered him to open his eyes, PJ found himself helpless to ignore him. All he could do was brace himself for the worst as he stared into those deep brown eyes he loved so much.
“I told you before, I’m staying right here.” It wasn’t until Syn’s mouth touched his that PJ actually heard the words.
“Really?” he asked against Syn’s lips.
“Syn,” Emma’s voice called way too loudly from the other room. “The beeping started.”
“Really,” Syn told him and PJ found himself able to breathe once more. “Are you able to get around with your crutches or do you need help?”
A part of him wanted to tell Syn to let the lasagna burn and pull him down onto the bed, but Emma was there so that wasn’t going to happen. Plus, PJ hadn’t had Syn’s lasagna in forever and he was pretty sure his stomach would revolt by eating its way out of his abdomen if he let it burn.
“I’ll be fine,” he told Syn. “You better go take care of that lasagna. I would hate for you to have to start over.”
Syn chuckled as he straightened and handed PJ the crutches he had placed near the door. “Don’t worry, little love. I wouldn’t allow that to happen.”
PJ already knew that. Syn had a way of always being on top of everything. There were times with Syn that PJ forgot his own name, yet Syn was always in complete control. It used to annoy him that Syn never seemed to be as into PJ as PJ was into Syn. It wasn’t until he’d gotten older that PJ understood that wasn’t the case.
For any good Dom, it was about control. The need to make the person they were with fly. A Dom got off on that. It didn’t make him any less into the moment than the sub, but it would have been impossible to do if the sub couldn’t trust his Dom would always ensure his safety, even in the heat of passion.
Gingerly, PJ slid his legs off the bed and grabbed the crutches. The last thing he wanted to do was injure his leg any more than he had by overusing it earlier, so he made sure to keep his weight off it.
After a quick trip to the bathroom and Emma yelling for him to hurry, PJ made it out to the kitchen just as Syn was putting the hot casserole dish on the table, and Emma was following him with a basket of sliced French bread.
“Do you promise I’m going to like lasa…” Emma scrunched up her nose and mouth. “What’s it called again?” she asked as she placed the bread on the table. PJ didn’t miss how she put it in easy reach next to her plate. Emma loved bread.
Syn tousled her hair as he went back to the kitchen for the salad. “Well, you tried the noodles and liked those, right?” Syn asked.
Emma licked her lips and rubbed her tummy excitedly. “I love pasta.”
After putting the salad on the table, Syn went over the island where four glasses were already filled. The smaller one had milk for Emma, while the other three glasses were most likely water. PJ was pretty sure if he wasn’t on medication they’d be having wine for dinner, and he had to admit appreciating that Syn didn’t indulge without him. He could have, but PJ loved his wine and having to watch someone else drink it when he couldn’t, would have sucked.
“What did you think of the meat sauce we put over the pasta?” Syn asked Emma.
She licked her lips again. “That was good, too.”
“And you like cheese, right?” Syn asked her, which had Emma nodding her head.
PJ loved the way the two of them talked. Syn never talked down to her and he was always patient. Wanting to join in, PJ said, “I think what he’s trying to say is that if you like everything that went into the lasagna, you will like it altogether, too.”
Emma tilted her head to the side as she considered his words, and PJ had to stop himself from saying, “Awwww.” She was just so darn cute at times like these, it was easy to forget she had a set of lungs that could shatter glass when she was having a full-blown hissy fit.
After careful thought, Emma nodded her head. “I hope you’re right, Uncle PJ.” Then she got up and pulled out his chair for him. “Here, Uncle PJ, I’ll help you.”
There went that awww sound in his head again. PJ was going to have a difficult time keeping it inside if she kept being so darn cute.
PJ glanced at the fourth plate at the table. “Is Daniel joining us?” It was a toss-up as to whether or not he wanted his unus
ually sullen brother joining them. Admittedly, Daniel had become more and more moody since they lost their sister, Jennifer, but lately his attitude has been unbearable to be around.
Syn opened his mouth to answer, but the chime of the doorbell stopped him. “That’s our guest now.”
Huh?
“What guest?” PJ wasn’t exactly up for having guests. Not to mention he was actually looking forward to having Syn all to himself. Well, with Emma, but that was close enough.
“Welcome,” he heard Syn say.
“Thanks for inviting me.” PJ knew that voice. He’d just spent at least an hour with the man in his suite going over colors. What he didn’t know was why Syn had invited him there. It didn’t make any sense.
“PJ,” Manuel said as he entered the living area. “I’m glad to see some color back in your cheeks. I have to apologize for keeping you this afternoon when I should have called Syn to take you home instead.” Manuel stood next to PJ, the sincerity of his words in his unusual green eyes.
PJ liked the man. He had a way about him that put everyone at ease. “That’s not your fault, Manuel. I should have stopped when I was starting to feel tired. I’m glad you could join us for dinner.”
That was a total lie, but PJ could be gracious, sort of. He just wished he could ask Syn what the man was doing there.
“And this must be Emma,” Manuel said.
Emma’s brown eyes were large on her face as they darted back and forth from Manuel to a gift bag in his hand. As curious as she was, Emma remained silent.
So Manuel stepped around PJ to stand next to her and then squatted down so they were eye level. He held out his hand and said, “I’m Manuel. It is a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”
Her brown eyes grew another size as she stared at his hand. Slowly, as if fearing he might bite her, she placed her own small hand in his. When Manuel just shook her hand and didn’t bite or do anything else that might have been scary, her gaze went to the bag in his other hand.
