Page 26 of More than Need

“For what purpose? To get someone to suck my dick?”

A muscle in Dawson’s jaw twitched. “Okay, good talk.” The door closed behind him harder than necessary before Riley could respond to the cryptic sentence. The entire exchange required a translator.

He watched Dawson jog across the lawn to a person who looked strangely like Sebastian’s younger brother, Elijah, but couldn’t be, before he flicked his indicator on and got the fuck out of there.

To cheese or notto cheese? Cheese being the obvious answer, of course. Thehowis where it all went pear-shaped.

Gideon bent and opened the bottom cupboard next to the fridge, peering inside. The potatoes had tentacles, but they weren’t green or super soft yet, so if he cut them off, they’d still be edible. Edible enough forhim, at least. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he pulled them out and dropped them on the kitchen counter.

He could make scalloped potatoes and eat them right out of the dish on the couch while he watched reruns ofBorder Security. No one even had to know. He could do it naked, and no one could tell him no. Being an adult could be a dangerous trap.

Being an adult depressingly alone in a two-bedroom apartment that felt more like a mausoleum than a home? Even worse. The quiet put him on edge. Somehow music didn’t make it better.

During his search for a chopping board—hehadone around here somewhere; he was sure he’d unpacked it only a few nightsago—he found a bottle of unopened Scotch. It looked fancy enough it had to have been a gift from Grady at some point. He didn’t know another liquor snob quite like their resident grump.

Sipping a glass of it while he peeled and sliced the potatoes made the entire activity way more enjoyable. More harrowing, maybe, but he’d be done with the knife by the time the Scotch affected him.

He paused mid-sip, staring at the empty space surrounding him. He and Lucia had cooked together on the evenings they were both home for it. Hudson “helped” if he felt like it and played with his toys nearby if he didn’t. Because of Lucia’s high-demand job, and Gideon’s unpredictable one, they had to get it in when they could.

The stillness here felt unnatural and uncomfortable.

It had been a long time since he’d lived alone. The longest time he’d ever spent away from his child since he’d been born. The sound of his laughter, his nonsensical talking as he played by himself, or the elaborate schemes he created with his toys when Gideon joined in. All of it. Little, inconsequential moments that he would miss.

Gideon almost sliced through his finger, and he cursed, dropping the knife. Christ. That’s all he needed tonight, an emergency visit to the hospital because he’d lopped his finger off.

He eventually got the potatoes organised and into the oven. Someone knocked as he closed the oven. He glanced at the safe near the door that held his service weapon. Officers didn’t take theirs home, but detectives did; he could be called out at any hour of the day, and he rarely had time to head into the office first to sign it out.

“Don’t be an idiot. Burglars don’tknock,” he muttered to himself. The peephole showed a surprisingly familiar face, and Gideon flung the door open. “Riley.” Damn, he looked way moreedible than the potatoes. Still wearing the same suit he had at work, tie a little skewed to the left. His hair stuck up like he’d been running his hand through it. “What are you doing here?”Please say booty call.

Riley held up a gift bag. “Housewarming gift.”

Gideon took it from him automatically before the words registered.Housewarming gift?“Thank you?” What kind of gift wouldRileybring? Police badge? A sign that said, “Get back to work.” No, too heavy for that. A book called,How to Be a Police Officer in Ten Easy Steps. No.Police Work for Dummies. Or both.

Maybe it had lube and condoms in it. They could test them out straightaway, for science.

Gideon stepped back with a flourish of his arm. “Come on in.”

Riley hesitated and then stepped over the threshold. His gaze flitted over the open-plan room, where Gideon’s whole life currently resided, crammed in like a storage unit. A dozen stacked boxes held things he hadn’t unpacked yet. It said a lot about the life he lived that after six months, a good ninety percent of his belongings were still packed away. Who even was he without his family? He’d always known he put a lot of importance on his job. He hadn’t realised just how much of his identity revolved around it.

Riley moved to the small square dining table next to the counter, the pads of his fingers tracing the edge of it. It only ever got used for eating when Hudson stayed the night. Right now, the clutter on it made it hard to see the surface. A stack of colouring books, a clear box of colouring pencils, a remote-control toy, and a reading folder that Hudson had left there last week that Gideon still hadn’t gotten back to Lucia.

The couch didn’t fare much better, covered in Hudson’s teddies, a blanket that Lucia’s mum had knitted Hudson when he’d been a baby, and a heated blanket that Gideon used whenhe got cold and couldn’t be bothered getting up to turn the heater on. The coffee table looked like the dining table. The only clean surfaces in the room were the bench—other than the mess from dinner—and the TV cabinet. Only because the cabinet had doors that closed, and he’d shoved everything in there and out of the way.

Riley ended up standing next to the kitchen bench, right next to the potato peels, tentacles Gideon had cut off said potatoes, and the cheese sacrifices that had occurred when he’d been pouring it over the dish.

“Why did you bring me a gift?” Gideon asked, placing it on the table so he could look inside, too curious to wait. He hoped theywerecondoms.

“It’s customary when someone moves into a new home,” Riley said stiffly.

“I’ve been here half a year now.”

“Is there a time limit?”

“I guess not.” Gideon carefully peered into the bag. A book-shaped item sat inside, wrapped in a pale-green crepe paper. Fancy. A smaller, similarly wrapped gift rested against it.

Gideon eagerly took them out and held them up. “For me?”

“Your next-door neighbours weren’t answering their door,” Riley replied. “You’re second string, but I’ll let you have them.”