Page 55 of Our Radiant Embers

“Yeah.” He blew out an annoyed breath. “Another one like that, though, and I’m firing the matchmaker. I didn’t even get to finish my coffee, for fuck’s sake.”

“We can fix that.” Adam got up and crossed over to the stylish new coffee machine that sat in a corner of my office. According to him, it had been part of the original cost estimate, included in the generic furnishings category. I was pretty sure that was a load of bollocks and he’d simply tired of the instant coffee he’d be drinking otherwise.

George whistled softly. “Swanky.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Except I haven’t yet figured out how to use it. When Adam’s not here, it turns into a pretty but wholly useless gadget that takes up a lot of space.”

“Good thing that space is something you have now.” Adam mimed a mocking bow. “You’re most welcome.”

“I just don’t understand,” I told him, “how you can’t even boil a fucking egg—but you somehow make a perfect cappuccino, wiggly leaf thing and all.”

“It’s all in the wrist movement,” he informed me, straight-faced.

“A lot of solo practice, I take it?” I shot back. And if my mind briefly, for only an instant, painted that scene for me—well, that was my own damn business. Just like it was my own damn business if I noticed, not for the first time, how nicely his jeans hugged his spectacular arse.

Adam let a deliberate smile play around the corners of his mouth. “I’m happy to teach you, you know.” A pause. “The wiggly leaf thing, that is. All you have to do is ask.”

“Bloody hell.” George sounded impressed, and oops, I’d nearly forgotten he was there for a second. “Now I get it.”

“Get what?” I asked against my better judgement.

“Laurie’s warning that joining you two would be at my own peril.” George fanned himself. “All this unresolved sexual tension is making me feel a bit light-headed.”

Adam shrugged. “If you can’t handle the heat…”

“But it’s so very entertaining to sit in the kitchen,” George countered while my attention was still stuck on his quip about unresolved sexual tension. Like, okay, I didn’t discount it just because Adam and I had exchanged orgasms a couple of times—but it wasn’t…It wasn’t like that. I didn’t fixate on guys. Sure, yeah, Adam had starred in a few hurried shower wanks lately. Just a passing thought or two because I’d been too exhausted to spin elaborate fantasies. But it didn’t mean anything. He was hot, and I kind of liked him, and I hadn’t made time to hit a club lately, and…

And, fuck.

Maybe it was like that.

I might have zoned out for a moment because somehow, Adam and George had moved on to discussing The Great British Bake-Off. George had long held the theory that some of the contestants hid modest fire abilities that allowed them to fine-tune their results. “I’m not saying they’re necessarily aware of it,” he told Adam. “Could be they don’t even realise it. But just like I know when a hydrangea is suffering from soil that doesn’t drain well, they’d know when a soufflé hasn’t been exposed to the right temperature for the right amount of time.”

“That would imply that I’m a gifted cook,” Adam said. “Or baker.”

“Maybe you are,” I put in. “You simply haven’t tried.”

“Okay, true.” Adam placed a cup of coffee in front of George. “But I can’t say I’ve ever felt particularly drawn to, say, a well-proportioned chocolate cake.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right one yet,” George said, deadpan.

Adam gave a regretful shake of his head. “I don’t believe in love at first bite. True love needs time, and cake is so very temporary.”

“Well.” George grinned. “That kind of depends on your discipline.”

“Isn’t that what the abstinence advocates say?” I threw in. “True love waits. No ring, no fling.”

“Because you’re such a poster boy for abstinence,” George said, his tone fond.

“Hey,” I protested. “That was years ago. I’m downright boring now.”

“Oh, ouch.” Adam followed it up with a cough that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. I shot him a narrow look.

“Present company excluded.”

“You say the sweetest things, darling,” he chirped, and George, the traitor, guffawed. It made me point an accusing finger at him.

“Anyway, mate, you have no leg to stand on. I’m not the one who stumbled his way into a threesome, after all. How’s that for abstinence?”

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