Page 16 of Peacocks

Jay

Every once in a while,as I was going through my regular life in the Thicket—like while I was giving a Corolla a particularly fine wax or helping Grandma Emmaline with her latest artistic endeavor (a larger-than-life mural of her husband, Amos, clothed only in a loincloth)—it would hit me that I, plain old Jaybird Proud, was keeping time with gorgeous, funny, supremely talented Lane Desmond.

I got to touch him.

I got to kiss him.

I got to watch his gorgeous body kneeling at my feet and sucking my cock on the regular.

I got to hear the pretty little cries he made whenever my hands were on him.

I got to see his eyes go unfocused when he came for me.

I got to catalog his shy blushes while I cleaned him up.

And best of all, I got to take care of him.

Not that I hadn’t taken care of Lane even before we were sleeping together, of course. As he’d pointed out more than once, taking care of folks was what I liked to do. But now, I didn’t bother holding back… though I still tried to keep it subtle since I figured Lane didn’t want to take our relationship public.

That was why I was determined to play it cool when I walked into the vet clinic one February morning.

“Hi, Jay. He has two more surgeries before lunch,” Pete said without looking up from the computer behind the reception desk.

I glanced around the empty waiting area and then out onto the street, where pedestrians strolled past the window as they did their morning errands.

“How’d you know it was me without looking?” I asked suspiciously. “I could’ve been Rosario Cockburn with his pet rat. I could have been Halle Jorgensen bringing in Veronica. I could have been Diesel and Mari bringing in Elsa the chicken.” I named four of the people I’d seen passing by. “I could’ve been anyone.”

Petey pursed his lips and nodded as if considering this.

“Well… I figured you weren’t Rosario because Punkin was just here yesterday for his checkup. I figured you weren’t Halle because Veronica the ball python was here at the same time as Punkin, and there was almost… ahem… an incident?—”

My jaw dropped. “Damn. The circle of life played out right here in the waiting room?”

Petey rolled his eyes. “I saidalmost. But mostly, Jay, I knew it was you because it’s 10:57 a.m.”

“Uh… okay.” I frowned. “So?”

“So, sometimes around this time, you’ve heard a report on the news about a flood in Florida and want to make sure Lane’s got his boots, just in case the flooding spreads north. Sometimes around this time, you have a burning question, like needing to know Lane’s middle name?—”

“Because I’m his landlord,” I said firmly. “It was important for me to know that he’s LaneBryanDesmond for legal purposes.”

“And most of the time,” Petey went on like he hadn’t heard me, “right around eleven, you get concerned about Lane’s blood sugar, and you bring him a snack.”

“I wouldn’t say it’smostof the time,” I muttered.

But then I thought about it.Wasit most of the time?

“Remember last week, when you claimed you’d justhappenedto find an entire peanut butter sandwich in your pocket, despite you not liking peanut butter?”

“That…” My face went a little hot. “That was a strange coincidence, I grant you. But Lane loves peanut butter, and it would have been wasteful?—”

“Uh-huh.” Petey waved a hand, eyes on his computer. “So leave your cookies, or umbrella, or sweater, or lunch, or whatever the heck you’re bringing him today over there, and I’ll get it to him when he has a break.” He nodded over his shoulder toward the end of the high counter.

I sauntered over and casually slid several small packages of carrot sticks and Oreo cookies onto the counter.

Petey snorted.

“It’s not… I mean… I just thought… if anyone was hungry… I know you and Lane work awfully hard, so?—”

---