Page 111 of Gratification in Gluttony

“The makeup business is very cutthroat,” Toni said seriously. “I can’t handle it, you know? I had to get out of that toxic environment.”

Still chuckling, Jude captured Toni’s face and dragged him down into a kiss that was mostly teeth. “I love you.”

And Toni’s heart took flight. “Yeah, you fucking do,” he said as he swallowed down Jude’s laughter. “I can’t believe you thought I was a drug-dealer. I’m offended.”

“I knewyouweren’t. I just thought your family was. I mean, you’ve said numerous times that you know how to get rid of a dead body. I thought you were being serious.”

“Oh, that actually is true. I got a skeevy cousin, Hari.” Toni made a rude noise. “Real piece of work. I’m pretty sure he actually is a drug-dealer, but my auntie thinks the sun shines out of his ass and he can do no wrong,blah, blah, blah.So we just turn a blind eye most of the time.” Hands on his hips, he shook his head in disapproval. “But I know that if I really needed it, he’d do me a favor, and he could make a body disappear. I keep that option in my back pocket, you know, for a rainy day.”

Jude stared up at him, and Toni pursed his lips and nodded. “So, yeah, I guess that family member’s technically a drug-dealer, but the rest just sell makeup.”

“How is that crazier than your family actually being the demon mafia?” Jude asked, and Toni shrugged.

“Beats me.” Toni’s ears picked up voices coming from the house, and he led Jude toward the ladder. “People are waking up. Better get back before anyone notices.”

“I don’t care if they do,” Jude said, pulling Toni to a stop before he could descend the ladder. “I told you, no more secrets.”

“But I get that this weekend may not be good timing.” Toni pecked his mouth, nuzzling his nose. “It’s okay, baby. You tell Ollie when it feels right, and I’ll do it with you if you want. Or not. Whatever you need.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Jude said, more to himself than to Toni.

“Psh, bullshit. Love ain’t about deserving. It’s about choice.” Releasing Jude, Toni started down the ladder, giving his human a wink. “And I choose you, bitesize. It’s as simple as that.”

The sun haloed Jude in light as he grabbed the top of the ladder and bent down, bringing them almost face-to-face. “Okay, Toni. I choose you too.”

“Good. That’s real good.” With a parting peck to Jude’s nose, Toni descended the ladder, then waited to help Jude down. He caught sight of Tad sneaking through an empty pen in the back of the barn. “Hey, Tad,” he called out, and she poked her head around the gate.

“What?”

“Can you, uh, do me a solid and keep what you saw up there between us?”

Her face scrunched in disgust. “You think I want to tell people that I now know your cum-noise? Hard pass!”

She ducked back into the pen, and Toni figured that was the best he was going to get. So he took Jude’s hand in his and headed toward the house.

When they teleported backto the cafe, Toni heaved a sigh of relief. The human world was fine, but it was nice being back on familiar ground. Mindless chatter drifted around him as everyone prepared to go their separate ways, and Toni wished that he could go to Chicago with Jude.

But they’d agreed that Jude would go back alone with Oliver so they could talk, and Toni wanted to give them the space for it. He’d offered to be there, but Jude had shook his head.

“Oliver won’t react badly,” Jude had said. “He likes you, Toni, and it’s not like he won’t approve or whatever. But he might be hurt that I didn’t tell him sooner, and that’s a conversation for the two of us, you know?”

And he wasn’t wrong, so Toni would head home alone and spread out on his bed all by himself and try not to miss Jude like a limb. Deities, he was such a sap. He’d just spent most of the weekend with Jude, and he’d been inside him less than six hours ago, but he already missed him.

“I wonder if being closed this weekend really hurt the bottom line,” Glyma was saying to Quin, and Toni turned away from where Jude and Oliver were laughing to listen in. “I mean, Saturdays are always so slow, you know?”

“Honestly, I’ve been wondering if we should close Saturdays,” Quin said, a crease appearing between her brows. “The costs of being open and paying the weekend staff sometimes exceed the sales.”

Glyma rubbed Quin’s shoulder. “I bet we could think of something to drum up business. Maybe a Saturday sale or something.”

“Not to butt in,” Oliver said carefully, and Glyma stepped back, allowing Oliver to join their conversation, “but what about hosting events or something? Like an open mic night or booking local bands to play Saturday nights. I know it’s a coffee shop, so maybe live music isn’t the vibe, but—”

“Open mic night?” Quin echoed, and something sparked in Glyma’s eyes, the dreamer in her coming to life.

“Like live poetry readings or interactive art. Zef could sing.” Glyma squealed, yanking Oliver into an exuberant hug. “Ollie, what a great idea!”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Quin said, but she was soon dragged into the hug too.

“There are so many possibilities,” Glyma said as she released them, both Oliver and Quin looking a little dazed. “We could encourage our patrons to take part, though we should have a few things planned so it’s not quiet and awkward.”

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