Page 20 of Prodigal

Well. It should be illegal for somebody to sound like that. His voice was sleep-hoarse, rough. Husky. Probably the sexiest thing André had ever heard. Not that he had much experience.

He swallowed. “Gideon.”

“Good morning.” When André didn’t respond, Gideon’s lips quirked. “Is it not a good morning?”

“You’re on top of me.” André pointed it out as if the other man didn’t know. He wanted to close his eyes at his stupidity but managed somehow to maintain eye contact with Gideon.

He looked as if he was always on, this guy. The only thing out of place on him, as far as André could see, was his hair that was sticking up a bit. André's fingers twitched at the urge to smooth it down.

The fuck was wrong with him?

“I must've fallen asleep while watching the movie last night,” Gideon murmured. “Guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“Well, you’re up now, so if you could just…” André made a shooing motion with his hands and Gideon’s eyes mocked him.

Something about his face, about how close he was to that part of André—his morning wood—had him on high alert, had his heart beating, and his groin…Don’t think about it. But he couldn’t ignore the heat of Gideon’s body, warming him through their clothes.

“Is this uncomfortable for you?” Gideon lifted an eyebrow, the smirk on his face telling André he already knew the answer to that question.

“It’s too early for me to be dealing with you and your bullshit.” André scrubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t you have something much more important to do than to be here, fucking with me?”

Something dark smoldered in Gideon’s eyes. “No.”

André’s pulse sped up. What?—

“Dré, you’re up!” Juliette wheeled into the room. “Come to breakfast. The chef made pancakes.” Why was she so excited about pancakes? “Gideon, will you have breakfast with us?”

Okay, he would have to talk to Jules about the crush she had on Gideon. It couldn’t continue. Gideon sat up, taking his weight off André—finally, and no, he didn’t miss it—smiling at Jules.

“Good morning, Miss Juliette. You’re looking well rested.”

André rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile when his sister blushed and ducked her head.

“Will you have breakfast with us?” Jules asked again.

“Jules, I’m sure Gideon has way more important things to do than waste time with us.”

Jules’s face fell.

Gideon got to his feet, lifting both arms over his head. André took in the flex of his muscles, then abruptly looked away, heat washing over his face.

“I do have some things to do.” Gideon turned that charm on Jules again. “But I would like nothing more than to join you for breakfast.” He glanced at André and must have seen the promise of murder in his eyes because Gideon threw him a wink, then walked off. “I’ll see you both at breakfast.”

Fuck. Him.

If André thought for a minute he’d get away with punching Gideon in the face, he just might. He knew what Gideon was doing, getting close to Jules. Using her as leverage against André. Because he’d already sussed out that Jules was the only person in the world André cared about.

He’d do anything for her, even share pancakes with Gideon fucking Winters.

He forced a smile for Jules when she beamed at him, getting to his feet and pulling her into a hug, kissing her temple. Together, they left the movie theater and Jules made her way to the kitchen—she already knew the layout of the entire goddamn place—and he went to his room to brush his teeth and change clothes. The day before, he’d placed a call to the school where he worked as a substitute teacher—also the same school Julesattended—telling them he had a family emergency and that he and Jules would be out of town indefinitely.

By the time he made his way down to the kitchen, he was frustrated at himself and angry at Gideon. Still, he took a deep breath and entered the room. Jules and Gideon—who’d also changed his clothes—sat at a table while some other folks bustled about the kitchen. This place felt way homier than the fancy dining room Gideon had next door. A room that was damn near as large as André and Jules’s entire home. But the kitchen was cozier, still fucking gorgeous like the rest of the place, but it didn’t have that museum,don’t touch nothingair.

Juliette waved at him and he joined them, pointedly ignoring Gideon.

An older woman appeared, pouring coffee into a cup at André’s elbow. He smiled his thanks.

“Dré, that’s Phyllis,” Jules told him. “And the man making our pancakes is Chef Chris. Sonia is his assistant. Everyone, this is my big brother, André.”

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