Page 16 of Drift

“Oh go on, boss, you know you want to.” Jack threw out his arms even with his coffee mug in tow. “Start from where you left off yesterday, no—five months ago. This shit never gets old.”

This “shit” was really what had had Jack up early most mornings, leaving him time to serve a breakfast that would feed the five thousand, and Gray sniffed, looked back at the full weight of the half wolf, half cat nearly blocking his view of Jack. Then he buried everything behind his mug. Pinning Jack down, the Maine Coon only growled his way anyway, so Gray held its look until it looked away. He was more a dog man. Dogs could be called to heel. Cats just gave thatTh’fuck you looking atconfrontational tone. Either way, he’d never really grown up with a pet of his own other than having his grandfather’s dog around. But Jack, the monstrous beauty on his lap… he hadn’t really been given a choice.

Old Mr Kershel had been a customer of Jack’s for years, sometimes leaving Gray waiting in the car outside his garage as they sat like two old men reminiscing over old war wounds. In their case: mechanic war wounds. Kershel had been a technician for thirty years, mostly as a competitor of Jack’s dad, but he’d swung Jack’s way after he’d retired, regularly coming in for a service on his Astra estate. He’d passed away peacefully at his five months ago, and it had kept Jack quiet for a few days. Right up until Kershel’s granddaughter had pulled up to Jack’s garage and handed over… that.

Gray tried so hard not to laugh as Jack roughed up one of the Maine’s ears, leaving Jack nearly spilling his coffee in the other hand as the cat leaned into it.

“She started off so fucking small and cute.” Handing his coffee to Gray, Jack tried to push the Maine off his lap, but the cat shifted herTh’fuck you think you’re doinghead his way and winked back at Gray, refusing to. “How the hell can she get so bloody big in just five months?” mumbled Jack.

“Happens, Jack. You know, the old bird and bee logistics: as girls grow up, they get… bigger.”

Jack laughed. “Oh fuck you.” He shoved at the Maine’s ass. “And you…. Off. Get the fuck off, missus.”

The Maine got to her feet, stretching into Jack, butt first, just before jumping down and rubbing up Gray’s leg.

Gray stared down at it, nothing more. The cat didn’t care and continued to rub him up the wrong way.

“Firestarter.” Jack started brushing his coveralls down, then pulled a hair out of his mouth. “Ed would have loved the bully in her.”

Gray chuckled as he made sure the cat moved away from him. Yeah, Ed would have done, more Kershal’s last dig at Jack. It had been a classic.

You’re not a real mechanic until you’ve had a pussy, Jacky lad.

P.s. Your old man is writing this for me and nearly dying. He’s gonna peg it before I do….

The note stayed stapled to the wall in the family photo room. But the cat that Jack still hadn’t named?

All mean majesty, the Maine carried a long, thick waterproof topcoat of dark grey body hair, with a light silver-grey main. With a powerful muscular athletic body that claimed Jack as her bed whenever he sat down for five minutes, large, pointed ears, and an impressive tail, she was spectacular to look at, and boy did she know it as she went back over to Jack and lay at his feet, only to have Jack run into distracted scruff-roughing behind an ear. Jan had come alive with having her in the house as well. Gray, he… tolerated her Cold War standoff.

“That going to be her name?” he said softly.

“Huh, Firestarter?” Jack went full shake of body and hair to get rid of the cat’s coat as he stood. “I’m tempted.” One stubborn strand refused to shake free, and the contrast of long black hair with a touch of silver running solely left side of his temple offered such a gorgeous look into an old age Gray wanted to grow older with and taste. “But you?” Jack levelled a finger Gray’s way. “Stop. I get enough off Sam at work asking if I can send him goddamn pictures of my pussy.”

Gray laughed, then looked at his watch.

“Make sure you eat. I’ve put something in the Oval for you and Brennan if you need it,” Jack said as he plucked Gray’s cup from his hands. He’d finished his, already missing it, and Jack winked and headed over to make another.

“Thank you.” He meant that.

With a tap at the streaming device, Lea’s “Kusse wie Gift” drifted into the kitchen on a softer German tone, calling out how Jack’s music tastes varied so widely across the language spectrum lately, everything from French… Spanish… Italian and anything in between. Jack didn’t know German, but sometimes just listening to tone and tonicity was enough to fall in love withthe music from any land. The Welshman in Gray knew that. But it was something new for Jack. The nuance was subtle, but there.

Huge paws padded over, and the Maine rubbed up against Gray’s leg again. She did it deliberately to get a negative reaction, he knew that, so Gray sniffed and looked down at it. “Out. Bathroom’s in the garage, cat.”

The Maine flicked her tail and walked off, only to stand by the door, and her look went back to him.

Giving a sigh, Gray let her out.

Jack laughed as the door closed. “Party tricks.” He winked Gray’s way. “You know yours don’t work on her. You’ve finally met your match with Pussyfuck youclaws here, mukka.”

Gray laughed and headed over to Jack as he started pouring another coffee. Amberwood soothed his senses as he shaped Jack from behind. It left a light sheen on the curve of Jack’s throat, and Gray ran the back of his hand down the tanned offering. The Amberwood was his own cologne. Jack had alwaysborrowedit since he’d first stepped in the manor, and Gray loved how he kept to this side of wearing something of him on his skin.

Always about the man and his choices behind the scent. In this case, Jack always quietly carrying a part of Gray on his skin.

Jack stopped messing with the coffee and gripped the unit before he dipped his head, giving such a soft exhale to Gray’s touch. The quiet between them, punctuated only by the soft tick of the clock that blended together the halfway point between tick… tock… drip…. fucking drop, showed they both still simmered from the light foreplay in bed, and Gray traced his touch down Jack’s side as he kissed, then gave a gentle nip at Jack’s throat. Garage coveralls were again tied at Jack’s waist,and Gray pulled the tangle of sleeve loose and slipped a touch down to rest above the fine offer of Jack’s pubic hair line.

Not yet touching, just… a promise of.

Maybe.

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