Kitchen Gods Box Set

by Beth Bolden

  Wyatt looked out over at the crowd milling around the backyard. It had definitely looked more intimidating in his mind. But he wanted to reassure Ryan, so he leaned over, brushing a quick kiss over Ryan’s mouth. “Never readier.”

  Wyatt headed straight to the grill; he needed to get the meat on so all these guests could get fed. He was glad, as he used the tongs to position it just so on the metal grid, that he’d planned for far more people, because there were definitely more than that in the backyard.

  Probably more like twenty-five or thirty, if he was being honest.

  “So this is the LA life, huh?” Miles asked from behind him.

  Wyatt turned, and pulled him into a quick hug. “I’d like to remind you that you moved to LA before I ever thought about it.”

  Evan was next to him, and got hugged too, because Wyatt was happy and feeling generous. “I’m so glad you guys are here,” he said.

  “I can’t believe you’re dating Ryan Flores,” Evan said.

  “I told you, babe,” Miles said, voice dropping in volume, “he’s not really dating Ryan Flores.”

  Evan waved a dismissive hand. “Isn’t that all a matter of semantics?”

  Technically, Wyatt didn’t think that Eric would think of it that way—and probably not Ryan either, no matter how affectionate he liked to be in bed. And outside of it. And in grocery stores.

  “It’s a good move for you,” Miles said, clearly trying to sound positive. Except that while he’d never been a Debbie Downer like Xander, he’d never exactly been the cheerleader type either.

  “The private chef job was a good move,” Wyatt corrected. “This is probably stupid, but I’m doing it anyway.”

  Miles shrugged, and it was clear from his expression that he agreed with Wyatt. “As long as you’re happy.”

  “I’d be happier with a drink,” Wyatt admitted. “Make sure the tri-tip doesn’t spontaneously combust while I grab one.”

  Miles nodded, but eyed the grill with trepidation. He was a pastry chef, and happiest—and most comfortable—around desserts. He could deal with some savory preparations, but barbecue was definitely beyond his skill level.

  Meanwhile Wyatt headed towards the makeshift bar that Ryan had set up in the shade. There were metal bins full of ice and bottles of beer, as well as a few bottles of various white wines.

  He grabbed a beer from the bin and was just looking around for a bottle opener, when Tabitha showed up, a handsome blond man in tow.

  “Wyatt, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Calvin.”

  Wyatt reached out and shook his hand. He had frankly appraising blue eyes and a firm grip. The fact that Tabitha’s expression and voice softened as she talked about him made him like Calvin already.

  “Cal,” he said in a friendly voice. “Call me Cal. If you do, I’ll keep pretending that I don’t already know all about you.”

  Wyatt raised an eyebrow. He finally located the bottle opener and popped the top off. Taking a long drink, he realized mid-sip that meant Ryan had been talking about him.

  “What do I have to do to get the details?” he asked with a grin.

  Cal laughed and Tabitha snickered. “You’re going to feed me homemade tri-tip with the fixings,” he said. “And I’m sure Tabitha told you she can’t cook. I’m grateful enough that I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “Calvin,” Tabitha admonished in a low voice.

  “What?” he asked innocently. “Should I not tell him how crazy we know Ryan is for him?”

  “We could,” she said primly, “but that is none of our business.”

  It wasn’t, but Wyatt couldn’t help but wonder if it was true. And then, if it was true, why Ryan kept insisting that their relationship had to be pretend.

  “How about you tell me why Ryan is so scared of relationships that he has to hire a boyfriend who’d be perfectly happy to date him for real?” Wyatt asked, wondering if he was giving too much away, then deciding he didn’t give a crap. Tabitha definitely had seen through him, and he wouldn’t be shocked if Calvin weren’t right there behind her.

  “That,” Cal said, “is unfortunately beyond my pay grade. You’re going to have to ask Ryan about that.”

  Tabitha muttered something that suspiciously sounded like, “but he won’t tell you.”

  It wasn’t like Wyatt had necessarily expected Ryan’s friends to sell him out, even to a guy who was crazy about him. But he did learn one thing; that there was definitely some reason why Ryan would opt for something pretend instead of something real.

  “I’ve got to go check on the meat,” he said, “but it was great to meet you.” They shook hands again, and Wyatt was off to the grill again, but Eric waylaid him in the middle of the yard.

  “There you are,” he said, putting his arm around him, like Wyatt had seen him do with Ryan more than once. Ryan hadn’t seemed to have much compunction in just shrugging him off, like a pesky fly, but Wyatt knew he should tread a little more carefully. After all, while Ryan signed the checks for both Wyatt’s jobs, Eric cut them.

  He didn’t know if he should feel more or less bothered thinking of Eric as his boss, instead of Ryan.

  “I need to check on the food,” Wyatt protested, even as Eric steered him towards a pocket of people underneath one of the big trees. The group included Ryan, and Wyatt shouldn’t have felt a twinge of nerves, but he did. This was it, then, the very first time he met strangers and got introduced as Ryan’s new boyfriend.

  “What you need is to mingle, and meet your boyfriend’s friends,” Eric said pointedly, hitting Wyatt’s suspicions right on the head.

  Wyatt felt his palm dampen against the beer bottle in his hand, but he lifted his chin. “Hey, babe,” he said, directing his comment at Ryan.

  “Look who I found, hiding out,” Eric said, laughing obnoxiously. “I told him he needed to join the party.”

  Wyatt’s dislike of the man grew exponentially. He hadn’t been hiding; he was in charge of the food for this party so if he disappeared to take care of something, he shouldn’t need an excuse. And now he was being forced to present one.

  “This your new guy?” a gorgeous African-American guy with dreads and kind eyes asked.

  On cue, Ryan walked over to Wyatt, and finally Eric let him go—probably only because it was Ryan’s turn to take over. Except that Ryan didn’t eagerly walk over, excited to introduce his new boyfriend to his friends. He practically dragged his feet and his whole persona exuded reluctance.

  “Yeah, this is Wyatt.”

  Wyatt couldn’t explain it. Ryan had kissed him in the middle of the grocery store. He’d hardly been private about it. Never mind that this was all his idea. Wyatt was only playing the part that he’d been asked to play.

  Ryan leaned and gave him a quick, perfunctory kiss that didn’t resemble anything like one he’d given Wyatt before the party. Wyatt told himself that he was thinking too much; if Ryan was a little apprehensive over this whole charade, that was fine. It wasn’t like Wyatt himself hadn’t had a few anxious moments. This was a big deal, and the very first time. It would get better, and Ryan would seem less stiff and less like he wanted to be somewhere else—or with someone else.

  “Picture,” Eric demanded, and while Wyatt wanted to refuse, he didn’t.

  It was easy enough for him to wrap his arms around Ryan and press a loud kiss to his cheek as the camera clicked, because he wasn’t playing a role. Ryan let him, even leaning in a little, and the soft look in his eyes as Wyatt pulled away made him think that maybe he’d imagined the whole thing.

  “Hi, I’m Andrew,” the handsome man said, reaching out to shake his hand, acting like this was all normal. “I’m happy that Ryan’s finally met someone. Where did you meet, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Temple, actually,” Ryan said quickly. “Can you believe it?”

  If Andrew looked a little more disbelieving now, it wasn’t like Wyatt could blame him. Nobody ever met a boyfriend at Temple. Found hookups, yeah, b
ut long-term happy relationships, rarely.

  “You should go with me sometime,” Ryan added.

  This time Andrew looked at him weirdly. “You’re still going to Temple? By yourself?”

  Of course he wouldn’t be. You went to Temple alone or with a group of friends to find a hookup. And Ryan didn’t need a hookup if he had a boyfriend at home.

  “We like to dance,” Wyatt covered for Ryan, who was just standing there, silent.

  “Then maybe I will,” Andrew said. He seemed nice and very friendly, and Wyatt thought they might be friends, except that he had a feeling Ryan wouldn’t be on board with that plan.

  He couldn’t say why, exactly, though the reason probably lay with the guarded look in Ryan’s eyes.

  “I’ve got to go check on the food,” Wyatt said, excusing himself. “But it was great to meet you.”

  * * *

  Wyatt rarely checked his social media accounts and rarely posted on them. That hadn’t stopped Eric’s “communications manager” from vetting all of them, even though he had nothing to hide. He’d been reminded by Eric three times tonight that he would be expected to start posting, beginning with tonight and for the foreseeable future.

  So when he checked the tri-tip, he took a pic of the grill, and posted to Instagram. He was still a chef, and food had always figured so prominently in his posts before. He figured it would be good to keep things normal.

  He did notice that several people had taken pics of him, and tagged him in them. One of the posters was Andrew, who was apparently a third baseman for the Dodgers. Andrew, who Wyatt was about sixty-five percent sure was gay and still in the closet, had tagged him in the picture of him and Ryan, and called them the “cutest couple I know #relationshipgoals.”

  They weren’t relationship goals. They could barely speak to each other out here in the yard, though everything had felt perfectly fine before they’d walked out here. Wyatt fought back the inclination to announce that the party was over, and drag Ryan back in the house, where everything made sense.

  “Hey.”

  Wyatt glanced up and Ryan was standing there, an apology in his eyes.

  “Everything okay?” Wyatt asked, keeping his voice light and casual. They were still figuring this fake relationship out, and balancing it with their private lives. That was hard. They wouldn’t get it right instantly.

  “That was weird back there,” Ryan confessed. “I knew we were going to do it, I just didn’t think it through.”

  “It’s okay, I think everyone assumed it was normal,” Wyatt said.

  “Yeah,” Ryan grinned, “because you’re a stealth ninja and you slipped that line in about liking to dance. I thought I’d blown it big-time.”

  So Ryan wasn’t really apologizing—or not apologizing—for his general standoffish behavior, but for accidentally inviting Andrew to Temple without Wyatt.

  Still, he was here and he was sorry. Even if he hadn’t said it explicitly.

  “A ninja, huh?” Wyatt grinned. “I love the sound of that.”

  Ryan leaned in and kissed him, this time nothing perfunctory or quick. He even slipped in a little tongue, wrapping his arm firmly around Wyatt’s waist. It was easy to forgive him when he kissed like that—like Wyatt was his whole world and this wasn’t a charade at all.

  “Food’s almost done?” Ryan asked, stroking a hand up and down his back. “Smells awesome.”

  “Yeah, could you go grab the cold salads? You might need an extra pair of hands. Then we can get ready to slice this in a few minutes.”

  Ryan nodded, and took off, collecting Cal to help.

  It was so easy to forget the early uncomfortableness in the low-key excitement of the party as the food was served, everyone gathering family style around a big table Ryan had set up outside in the yard.

  He took about twenty selfies, and from his constantly vibrating phone in his back pocket, assumed most of them had been posted and he’d been tagged.

  The party started slowing down a few hours later, even though Ryan had lit the fire pit.

  Wyatt had gravitated towards it, lounging against a bench seat, with a beer dangling in his hand. He felt so mellow, like nothing could disturb his much-won peace. A few people had stopped by to chat, including Tabitha and Andrew. When Ryan slid in next to him, his arm going around his shoulders, Wyatt assumed the party was mostly over.

  “It went well, don’t you think?” Ryan asked. He sounded just about as relaxed as Wyatt felt, and he couldn’t help but be relieved at that. He’d worried that Ryan would stay uptight, but that hadn’t happened. He’d relaxed into the role, and even though he didn’t act exactly as he did when they were alone, it was close enough that Wyatt wasn’t going to angst about it.

  “I think it went great,” Wyatt said honestly.

  “Eric said a few outlets have already picked it up. They all think you’re very cute and that we’re very cute together.”

  “Well, that doesn’t feel too far from the truth,” Wyatt said smugly.

  “Even TMZ posted,” Ryan said.

  “Who’s TMZ?”

  Ryan laughed. “I think we did forget one thing tonight, though.” He held up his phone. “We didn’t take a selfie together to cement our very cute couple-ship.”

  “I took about a thousand selfies,” Wyatt protested.

  “So, what’s one more?” Ryan pointed out.

  Which is how they ended up with a very cute picture on Ryan’s Instagram—the palms and twinkly lights of the backyard in the background, with the glow of the fire pit reflected in their faces, pressed closely together.

  “I’m going to caption this #bestnightever,” Ryan announced.

  “You don’t think that’s a bit of an exaggeration?” Wyatt asked lazily. He was dreaming about bed. Ryan’s or his—he wasn’t sure he cared at the moment. It had been a long day.

  “I don’t, actually.” Ryan’s voice sounded serious, devoid of any teasing edge, and Wyatt thought that he might actually be telling the truth.

  Chapter Twelve

  “How do you feel about going up to Napa this weekend?”

  Ryan looked up from where he was checking his email. Wyatt’s head was still mostly in the fridge, as he put together a quick lunch for them.

  “I feel good about it,” Ryan said. “No plans here. Did you have something in mind?”

  “This weekend is one of Bastian Aquino’s famous invite-only brunches at Terroir. I promised my nana I’d take her, and Tony, my brother, is going too. I could add you to the list, if you wanted.”

  “Does this mean I can finally meet the Bastard?”

  Wyatt laughed as he began to spread pesto on one side of the bread. “I’m not sure I want you meeting him if you’re going to call him by his infamous nickname. He’s killed people for less. But yes, he does generally make a pass through the dining room to take his allotment of praise.”

  “Excellent, I’d love to come and meet your nana. Plus, I have an idea for something else we can do in Napa.” Ryan had a feeling Wyatt wasn’t going to like it as much as he was; Wyatt didn’t have the same craving for adrenaline that Ryan had.

  But Wyatt kept piling sliced turkey and cheese on the sandwiches like he wasn’t concerned. Of course Ryan had discovered that when Wyatt was cooking, even if it was as simple as building some paninis, he was usually absorbed in his task.

  “Napa Skydive is up there,” Ryan threw out casually, leaning back, and taking a long drink of his iced tea. “I thought we could give it a try.”

  The shocked, apprehensive look in Wyatt’s eyes was priceless as he looked up at him.

  “Oh, it’ll be fun,” Ryan teased. “You’re gonna love it.”

  “I’m not an adrenaline junkie like you,” Wyatt protested.

  “Yeah, you play it downright safe when we surf,” Ryan teased. Like just this morning Wyatt hadn’t been attempting tricks that Ryan wouldn’t even try. “I’ll tell that to the gigantic bruise you’re probably going to be sporting tomorrow.”
>
  “I already told you,” Wyatt said as he slid the sandwiches into the pan, and weighed them down with another big heavy skillet, “I did that on purpose. So you’d kiss every inch of it.”

  Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. Hanging out with Wyatt was fun and always so unexpected. If he’d known that hanging out with your hookups was like this, he would’ve been tempted to do it before. But then, he had a feeling there weren’t many Wyatt Blakes out there in the world.

  If he’d ever run across someone like him before, Ryan wanted to believe that he’d have realized it right away, the exact same way he had this time, and done whatever he could not to lose him.

  The adjustment to being together, even if it was fake, had seemed pretty smooth, despite his sudden anxiousness the night of the party, and so much of that had been because of Wyatt. He was calm and collected, and endlessly supportive. He made doing this easy, and every hour they spent together further convinced him of the truth he’d known from the first moment they’d met: he could only have this fake relationship if it was with Wyatt. He couldn’t have done it with anybody else.

  “I guess if you come to brunch with my nana and my brother and endure not calling Aquino the Bastard to his face, I could skydive. Besides, isn’t that super safe now? And don’t they hook you up to the instructor?”

  “Luckily for you,” Ryan said, “I’ve got enough hours to be considered an instructor. We can get hooked together.”

  Wyatt’s response was a smoky, hot look shot from his cool, blue eyes. “How did you guess that’s my favorite position?”

  Ryan snorted. “It wasn’t very difficult, considering how often it occurs.”

  “Are you complaining?” Wyatt slid the sandwich onto a plate and pushed it in front of Ryan. “Because I sure as hell am not.”

  Ryan definitely wasn’t. He’d unapologetically had a lot of sex and lots of it had been good, some of it had been great, and a little had even been extraordinary, which is why he’d expected some of his sexual obsession with Wyatt to wane as the novelty faded. But there was something addictive about him, and whenever Wyatt offhandedly mentioned how much he enjoyed them together, Ryan couldn’t help but be a tiny bit embarrassed at how much he agreed.