Page 42 of Warrior's Cross

“I do like it a lot,” Cameron admitted as he slid his hands into his pockets. “And the money’s nice, but I inherited the condo, and I’ve got more than enough money saved up for just me and the dogs that I wouldn’t have to work for awhile if I didn’t want to. Mostly it’s because I don’t have anything else to do.”

“I’d like to see you more,” Julian told him bluntly. “Perhaps we could both pick a day to be free?” he asked. “Then you could have something else to do.”

Happiness clutched at Cameron’s chest. His joy at that idea was clear on his face. “I’d really like that.”

Julian grinned widely and nodded. “Good. Is it easy for you to get nights off?”

“It’s my job to make the schedule,” Cameron answered with a small smile.

“Any night but Sunday and Monday,” Julian told him with a smirk.

“Damn.” Cameron huffed. “The restaurant’s closed on Mondays; that would have worked well,” he told Julian with a frown.

“The restaurant’s closed on Mondays because Blake is busy with his other business responsibilities,” Julian answered vaguely, smiling slightly.

“Oh. Well, will we still have Tuesday nights?” Cameron chanced, knowing better than to delve further into that little tidbit of information.

“I wouldn’t miss them,” Julian answered.

“How about Fridays for a regular day off? For all I know, you look different by sunlight,” Cameron prodded.

“I’m actually a blond,” Julian deadpanned. Then he smiled crookedly. “I like it.”

Cameron chuckled over the joke and then hummed agreeably, closing his arms around Julian’s middle and hugging him close. “You mentioned taking me to bed?”

“Yes, I did.” Julian picked Cameron up completely and turned fluidly, tossing him onto the bed without the slightest effort.

Cameron yelped in surprise and laughed as he bounced on the mattress and looked up at Julian. “You enjoy that, don’t you?”

“Immensely,” Julian growled with an evil smirk as he crawled onto the bed.

Blake Nichols sat in his office, tapping his pen against the desk as he watched the little television in the corner. Cameron sat across from him, patiently waiting until the news story ended before he spoke.

“Authorities are still baffled by the murder of Theodore Young,” the news anchor said. “Young, a research assistant at Chicago’s Field Museum, was found Thursday night in the men’s room in the Museum’s basement after an alarm alerted museum security to a breakin. He was shot three times in the chest. While the Chicago PD is remaining silent in regards to the circumstances of the murder, an insider claims the killing looks to be a, professional hit. The thirty-eight-year-old Young was said to be assisting on—”

Blake reached over and turned off the television before the anchor could drone on. “Some people just have no luck, hmm?” he said to Cameron with a wry smile. “Can’t even take a piss without getting it,” he mumbled as he fiddled with some paperson his desk and then looked up at Cameron again. “Now, what was it you needed?”

Cameron shifted forward now that he had Blake’s attention. “You wanted the comparisons on the wine vendors? The house wine supplier jumped the price per bottle by twenty dollars?”

“Right, right,” Blake responded with a nod. He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. “Switch to someone cheaper; call their bluff.”

Cameron winced. “We don’t want to piss the supplier off. We have a lot of regulars who drink the house wine every time they come in.”

Blake smiled slowly. “Anyone in particular you’re thinking of?” he asked.

Cameron blinked several times. “Particular?” he echoed. “Uh. Well... I guess so,” he admitted as his cheeks colored. “But a lot of other customers really do drink it too.”

Blake continued to smile, watching Cameron and waiting for him to say what he really wanted to say.

“Blake, I... I have a question, but I don’t... I don’t want to pry, you know, too much,” Cameron waffled.

“So I’ll tell you when you cross a line,” Blake invited with a wave of his hand.

Cameron screwed up his courage. He’d come this far; he might as well ask. “Julian said that he’d do something here in the restaurant—about me—but that you told him he couldn’t,” he said in a rush.

Blake stared at him blankly for a moment before frowning slightly. “Remind me,” he requested finally.

“He said... he said he’d wanted to get down on his knees and beg me to go home with him.” Cameron winced once the words were out. It sounded silly now, but he was having a really difficult time absorbing it. He hoped Blake would be able to confirm Julian’s sincerity.

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