Page 42 of Jack of All Trades

The bedding matched the champagne color of the tufting, and thick pillows cascaded to the center of the bed.

The ceiling was adorned with murals of clouds and cherubs, and the wardrobe was open, showing lines of fine clothing. Jack was impressed, to say the least. “You’re more powerful than even I imagined.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

“Don’t blow smoke up his ass, Jack. He does that plenty on his own.”

As Jack giggled, Rodney pinched Maltin’s cheek. “Such a jealous boy.”

“Ass,” Maltin accused, laughing.

“Go to bed and make a litter of pups for your mother to enjoy in her golden years.”

“Her golden years were a hundred years ago, or more, but you’d never know it looking at her. Goodnight, Rodney, and rest well. You’ll need all your strength in case Jack’s former family is in a fighting mood.”

“Pish, posh,” he drawled.

Jack lay in the bed with Maltin, being held from behind as they spooned. “Jack,” Maltin whispered. “Are you going to be okay, doing all this?”

“No, but I have to.” His heart hurt, knowing how relieved the Pengroves would be that he wasn’t theirs. “I never wanted to hate them.”

“It’s hard to hate family, Jack. But you’re loved now. I can tell Rodney’s already taken with you. My mother will pretend to be cross, but she’ll come around quickly. And, when she’s actingcross, know it’s her own fears that she kept my father from a fated mate, and his destiny to become a shifter. It’s not you or me.”

“That would be hard to live with, I suppose.”

“Sleep, my darling. Tomorrow will be a long, strange day for us both.”

He woke to see an Asian woman carrying a tray of breakfast foods and a silver pot of coffee. Jack sat up and scooted back against the pillows and piping of the headboard. “Maltin! Maltin, wake up!”

Maltin woke with a start, but once he saw the woman, he sighed, “Dammit, Rodney.”

“He asked me to bring this to you. The chef prepared fresh croissants and fruit for you, as well as poached eggs and Turkish coffee.”

“Rodney,” Maltin called out, and up the stairs came his uncle, silk peach-colored robe around him and white ascot around his neck. “Yes, Malty?”

“You scared Jack half out of his wits!”

“So sorry, dear boy. I wasn’t a bit tired last evening as I’d thought, so I went out and found this lovely lady.”

The woman sat the tray on Maltin’s lap and blew a kiss to Rodney before descending the stairs.

“Really? Bringing strangers here? And what chef?”

“My personal chef! Do you expect I eat cornflakes?” he asked with a scowl. “Please!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at their friendly banter, trying to disguise it as conflict. The thing he’d longed for all his life was heavy between them, familial love, and more than that. They knew one another. Faults, fears, fun, and memories lay between them, and Jack was terribly envious of them. One day, he hoped to have the same with…anyone.

“I’ll send him back to your mother by ten, no worries, Malty. What would she do without her morning soft-boiled eggs and toast corners?”

Jack took a strawberry from the big bowl of fruit, and once he bit into it, the sweetness enveloped his entire mouth. “Wow!”

“Only the best, Jack. Only the best! We imported these from Japan this morning, fresh off the vine, and the cantaloupe is from Rocky Ford, Colorado. Never accept second best,” he said, then playfully frowned. “Well, too late for that, but I’m not gay, so you’re stuck with second best, I’m afraid.”

Maltin laughed and held up his fuck-you finger to his uncle. “Go away and let us eat.”

“Of course! I have new clothes for the both of you for our trip to see Jack’s former parents and a limo will be here soon to whisk us away to the doctor and then on our longer journey, so eat up, shower, and get changed.”

Jack ate all the strawberries as Maltin picked at a croissant. “What’s wrong?”

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