by Parker Foye
“Oh.” Teddy didn’t buy it, but he knew better than anyone that sometimes people had things they couldn’t say aloud at first. He turned his attention back to Jamie and leaned against the counter.
“You gonna be here all day, Teddy?” Jamie asked.
“Yeah, he’s gonna be here,” Jim said. “I’m gonna go out for a little while so he can fire the maid.” He snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. Let me go write her a check.”
“Huh?” Jamie said.
“I mean it.” Jim sauntered through a set of open double doors to a room Teddy hadn’t been in. “I’m going to get rid of her once and for all.”
Jamie’s jaw nearly hit the floor and she put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been telling him to fire that hag for two years, and he wouldn’t do it.”
“He still wouldn’t have, probably, if I hadn’t planted the idea into his head that I’d do it for him.” Teddy rolled his eyes at himself. “My mother would lose her shit. She’s very meticulous.” He shrugged and leaned against the counter, enjoying the pleasing sound of the butter on the outside of her sandwich sizzling against the press.
And also enjoying a conversation that didn’t have anything to do with restaurants. Nobody ever asked him about himself anymore.
“She’s the kind of lady who’ll come by for a visit—” he made air quotes “—tell you she’s going to go get something out of the rental car, and then she’ll come back an hour later with a bunch of bags from the discount store filled with cleaning supplies. The moment you turn your back, she’ll be down on her hands and knees scrubbing your baseboards.”
Grinning, Jamie lifted the lid of the press and grabbed a spatula from the stand near the stove. “Does she...know?”
“What?”
“About you.” She made a noncommittal swishing motion with the utensil. “You know.”
“That, what, I’m an actor?”
She groaned. “Come on. Gonna make me spell it out, huh?”
“I prefer to be on the same page with people.” His parents had taught him not to volunteer information that wasn’t demanded.
“Does she...” Jamie pulled in a breath and rolled her gaze to the ceiling. “Jeez, I don’t want you to think I’m usually this tactless.”
“Go on.” Ask.
“Does she...know that you’re with men?” Her voice had gotten softer with each word.
The creaking of the floorboards near the double doors hinted that they were no longer alone. Luckily for Teddy, he had no angst about the line of questioning. He simply didn’t want people to assume that he did.
“Yes, my mother knows I’m gay, and so does my father. They’re neither happy nor unhappy about the circumstance. It is what it is. I think they suspected from the time I was seven that my preferences were more John than Jane. They sheltered me as much as they could from the bad shit, but I still caught wind of some of it. They lost a lot of friends. That made me hurt for them, but before I went away to college, they sat me down and explained that they’d prefer for the snakes to come out openly rather than them having to guess where they were.”
“Smart,” Jim murmured.
Teddy shrugged. “Practical, I guess. Someone’s got to take care of them when they retire, right? Maybe they figure I’ll be kinder then if they’re kind to me now.” He crossed his eyes. “They’re more annoyed about my chosen profession than about who I date, I assure you. My dad wanted me to be a farmer. Not gonna happen. Lucky for him, he’s got a son-in-law who likes the dirt well enough.”
Jim grunted and retreated into the adjacent room.
Jamie nodded curtly and whispered, likely to herself, “Makes me feel better.”
Teddy was curious, though. “Why?”
“I guess I worry about people.”
“And you’re worrying about me?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“You hardly know me.”
“But Jimmy likes you.” Yet again, Jamie performed that nod as if that was that, and locked the sandwich press lid down again.
“Do you do that for everyone he likes?”
Teddy didn’t really expect her to answer, but she paused the plating of her sandwich long enough to shake her head.
Oh.
Pondering what the past few minutes could possibly mean, Teddy crooked his thumb toward the doorway Jim had disappeared through. “What’s in there?”
“Office.” Jamie put her sandwich onto a plate and cut it into triangles.
“What could he possibly need with an office?”
“Where do you think I go to write checks for people who need to be fired?” Jim called out.
“I get the feeling you haven’t written many of those checks.”
“Hey, maybe I’ll write even more. How’s my landscaping look to you?”
“I didn’t see it. I don’t usually pay attention to shrubbery and grass when I’m riding my bike across town at oh-dark-thirty.”
Jim emerged from the office, passing the flap of an envelope across his extended tongue. “Two weeks’ pay and a reference letter, per your suggestion.” He handed the little packet to Teddy and slapped him on the ass again before resuming his former sandwich-making.
Teddy sighed and tried not to blush himself to death when Jamie wriggled her eyebrows at him. “Not sure if he needs a booty call or an assistant,” he muttered.
Jim dropped pickle slices onto his sandwich abomination, and then cocked his head.
Teddy poked his back. “No. I wasn’t volunteering.”
“For which?”
“Either.”
“You’re already here. After a certain number of hours, booty call becomes boyfriend.”
Teddy couldn’t tell if Jim was joking. He was usually better at that, but he rarely encountered people with senses of humor as wry his own.
Jim rubbed his chin and grunted as he turned to Jamie. “That’s done, right? People have assistants?”
“Yep.” She leaned against the wall near the pantry and chewed thoughtfully. “Everyone I’ve ever met who’s had the same job as you usually had someone to do the behind-the-scenes admin stuff.”
“What exactly is your job?” Teddy asked him. “You said you already had people running W. Company, so what do you do all day besides wait for pancakes?”
Lips pressed, Jim layered ham atop his heartburn sandwich.
“Answer me.”
“Stuff.”
“Illegal stuff?”
“No.”
“Why are you being so coy, then?”
“Because it’s not important.”
“Guys say shit like that to their booty calls. Where are my clothes, by the way?”
Jamie gave them a salute with a sandwich quarter and padded outside.
When the door snicked shut behind her, Jim placed a slice of bread atop the unholy pile and pushed the whole mess a little flatter. “Where do you have to be?”
“Why should I answer your questions when you don’t answer mine?”
“Because my answers would be too complicated, except the one about your clothes. By the way, I’m going to run out at around noon,” Jim said, turning down the dial on the machine. “Maid usually comes around then. If you want to go out and get groceries or whatever later, you can get what you want.”
“Are you inviting me to stay for another meal?” He folded his arms over his chest and cocked his chin at Jim. “Or are we starting another round of one-thing-leads-to-another?”
Jim drew in a deep breath and raked his appreciative gaze down Teddy’s body. “Mmm.”
Teddy was fully dressed, but his body burned as if Jim had touched bare skin and not just looked at him.
“One-thing-leads-to-another sounds wonderful, but you know I don’t expect it,
right?”
“You don’t?”
“No. I’ll admit I’m a handsy motherfucker. You’re so damned gorgeous. Yeah, I wanna be close to you, but I won’t get angry if you walk away.” He shrugged. “Look. I can’t answer all your questions.” Jim tentatively lifted the lid on the press and then set it back down. “Not yet. Make yourself at home. I like you being here.”
Baffled, Teddy blinked at him and shifted his weight. Jim had called him gorgeous with the same amount of certainty he’d used to say that his truck was black or that his coffee was weak. That man—hands down the finest male specimen Teddy had ever laid eyes on—had called him gorgeous.
Poor confused thing.
“You gonna hang out?” Jim asked. “I wish you would.”
Teddy liked hearing that, probably a little more than he should have, but he needed to exercise some caution. He might have felt comfortable about Jim, but comfort was often an illusion, and no one else was going to look out for him. He didn’t really know anything about the man whose pants he was wearing, except that he had a huge bank account balance, a huge house, a huge cock and a huge ego.
“I should be back by four,” Jim said. “I’ll call the house phone if I get held up.”
“It’s my day off. I’ve really got things to do.”
“Oh. I understand, I guess.” Jim’s lips twitched into something that was almost a smile.
That wasn’t good enough. Teddy wanted the full-bore, teasing, megawatt grin Jim always gave him every time he strutted past him at the restaurant. He never pondered if he was disappointing him when Jim smiled at him like that.
Never in a million years would he have guessed there’d come a point that he’d care whether or not he was disappointing Jim West, but he did.
Teddy turned back to his sandwich-in-progress and topped it with a piece of bread. “What am I supposed to do until four?”
There went the cock-hardening smile that made the concession worth it. Teddy felt gorgeous when Jim grinned that way.
“I’m sure you’ll find some way to entertain yourself.”
Teddy pressed his lips together and nodded. He didn’t know what he’d do for hours on end by himself in someone else’s home, but he knew he was tired of being by himself. He also worried that the moment he went home, the magic would wear off and Jim would go back to being That Asshole. There’d be pancake orders and obnoxiously small tips.
If he could get it, he wanted a little more of Jim than that. He wanted to see if he were nuts for thinking that, maybe, Jim could be right for him.
Chapter Six
“Jamie will probably be around here somewhere if you need anything.” Jim had stalled as long as he could—he’d even washed dishes after lunch—but he really needed to go tend to pack affairs. He had one hand on the knob to the door leading to the garage and the other in Teddy’s pants.
Teddy had his gaze fixed on the kitchen ceiling and was muttering to himself about rude, handsy jerks. His mouth might have been spewing ever-so-much shit, but his hips didn’t lie. He rolled them, grinding his sac against Jim’s searching hand.
Jim wanted to see him with his clothes off again, lean and lithe, and so very bare. He wanted his tongue on those shaved places to learn how they felt and how Teddy tasted without the fur getting in the way.
“Jim?”
Jim sighed. “What?”
“You’re making weird noises.”
Jim pulled his hand free of Teddy’s pants and straightened the waistband. He’d been growling probably, but didn’t bother asking for clarification. He didn’t want the topic to linger overlong in Teddy’s mind. He couldn’t remember the last time a partner had made him growl, but he’d also never wanted to make anyone his mate. For that matter, he couldn’t remember a single fucking time he wanted to keep someone in his house.
He pushed open the door to the garage and stepped down. “I’m going to move your bike inside.”
Teddy followed him, scoping the three-stall space as he moved. Jim didn’t keep much besides his two motorcycles in the garage. He kept his truck parked on the driveway because it was too tall to clear the doors. Other than the bikes, the only thing in the room was the long counter at the left that held various tools and motorcycle parts.
“Jeez,” Teddy said. “I’d kill to have storage space.”
Jim ducked beneath the opening garage door and grunted. “Got a basement, too.”
Jim walked to where Teddy had left his bike near the porch steps and easily hauled it up. It was a pretty no-frills bike. Jim hadn’t owned a bike with pedals in more years than he could recall, but he was pretty sure his last one had a few more bells and whistles.
“I see the way you’re eyeing my bike,” Teddy said indignantly. “Spare me the critique.”
Jim leaned it against the garage counter. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You don’t have to say anything aloud. You’re saying enough already with your facial expressions.”
“Is this how you really get around?”
“Yep. I sold my car after I got to Chesterton. It’s either my pal Pedals there or public transportation. I usually take the bus into the city if I have an audition.”
“You said you had an audition for something recently—the thing you waxed for. How’d that go?” The guilt was hard to swallow, but Jim hoped Teddy had bombed. He didn’t want him to move to the city.
“Mmm.” Teddy cringed and toyed with the ends of his blond hair. “Haven’t heard back about that yet. Not sure how I feel about the production, either, so I’m not holding my breath.”
Jim would likely end up holding his instead until he heard the news. He fidgeted his car keys. “When are you supposed to find out?”
Teddy shrugged. “Next few days, I guess. Probably Monday or Tuesday.”
Jim grunted.
Monday or Tuesday.
The full moon was imminent, but Jim could still be up to his nose in coyote fur on Monday or Tuesday.
Almost all of the coyotes in his pack were born shifters and only had to spend a few hours per month in their animal forms, but there were a few newbies. In their initial months, they could spend up to a week wearing fangs and fur, and they needed to be guided. Part of Jim’s job was to make sure they didn’t get hurt, and that they didn’t hurt anyone, either. The pack was large, but the humans in coyote territory were mostly in the dark about their existence.
Need to get him settled in soon.
Teddy poked his shoulder.
“What?”
“You’ve been standing there for at least two minutes staring at nothing in particular.”
“I’m thinking about errands.” Jim cleared his throat and gestured to the garage door closer. “Hit that switch after I leave. I’m taking the truck.”
Teddy followed him to the door but went no farther. He was barefooted, and the driveway was made of rough bricks.
Jim started for the truck, only to see Teddy dart to the kitchen door, swat—and miss—the automatic closure button, and then scramble back to hit it again.
What the—
The movement in the rearview mirror of the open truck door snared Jim’s peripheral vision. Four legs and fur, bigger than a dog, and with enough of a psychic thrum for Jim to recognize him as a pack member.
Fuck.
He leaped down from the truck and bared his teeth at Carter.
Carter stopped and canted his canine head.
Jim ducked beneath the descending garage door, triggering the sensors to withdraw it, and ran up the steps to the kitchen.
Teddy paced in front of the stove, wringing his hands in agitation. “Jesus Christ, is it in the garage?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Can you go check?”
“It’s
fine, Teddy.”
“I keep seeing those things around town. Jesus Christ.” He paced some more, hands shaking as he threaded them through his hair. “You’d think animal control would do something.”
Unfortunately, where the coyote shifters were concerned, Jim was the animal control.
“They won’t bother you if you don’t bother them,” Jim said.
“Bullshit. That’s what my father used to say about people’s hunting dogs that used to track across our property. I got mauled when I was fourteen and had to have thirty-five stitches to close up my arm.” He stabbed a finger at the forearm of his opposite arm. “Couldn’t even get the owner to cover the medical bill.”
Jim passed his hand down his face to hide the fangs the beast part of him had bared in response. Learning Teddy had been hurt put him on the defensive in a heartbeat. “So, you don’t...do dogs at all, huh?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? A friend of mine sent me to one of those pet supply chain stores to pick up a bag of food, and I had no idea those places let people bring their pets inside. Imagine. I was picking up a fifteen-pound bag of kibble, and some lady had her Chihuahua on a very long leash. It ran over sniffing my ankles, and I dropped that bag and started screaming at the lady. Jim, the dog didn’t even have teeth, but I couldn’t calm down. I can’t...” Teddy jammed his fingers into his hair and tugged. “I can’t now, and maybe I’ll never be able to again.”
“Damn,” Jim whispered, combing his hands through his messy hair.
That...might be a problem.
Jim stepped forward instinctively, dog or not, and pulled a very wary Teddy into his arms. He wanted to comfort his mate, and Teddy might have thought the affection was strange or unwarranted for someone he’d been intimate with for barely a day, but Jim wasn’t so hung up on calendars. He knew what he needed and how to get it, and what he needed was Teddy. “‘S’all right.” He hooked his chin over Teddy’s shoulder and slid his hands down the back of his sweatpants.
Teddy sighed and muttered something about opportunism. He may have talked a lot of shit, but in pants that soft, he couldn’t conceal his cock’s attentive jerks. Nor could he hide the way his cheeks contracted as Jim palmed them.
