Page 22 of Charmed By Destiny

Once his father disconnected, Richard set his phone on the desk and explained the bonus to Lucas. The inspirit’s gray gaze widened, and Richard wondered how the man could look that good even when he was shocked.

“Oh, wow. That’s really generous of your family. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, my parents make the money, I just spend it.”

“I think I’ve been here long enough to know better than that. Almost all your customers are repeat ones. That doesn’t happen unless they are being taken care of, and Douglas assures me you’re the best there is.”

Richard refused to blush like a schoolboy, but color rose to his cheeks anyway. “Douglas is too nice. He is also excellent at his job. I like to think we make a good team.”

“A team I’m thrilled I joined.”

“Good, I’m glad. You’re already proving to be a great asset with tons of enthusiasm for your work. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

For a single heartbeat, Richard caught sight of something he couldn’t define in Lucas’s gray gaze. The inspirit’s lips curved into a smile, and a wave of something Richard refused to name settled in his belly.

“That’s it for now, thanks,” Lucas said.

Richard locked his eyes on Lucas’s face to keep from ogling the man from head to toe as he gracefully unfolded himself from the chair and walked to the door.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you have any other questions.”

“Will do.”

Lucas exited the room, and Richard leaned back in his seat. The inspirit was growing more dangerous to his ability to focus with every passing hour.

Chapter 9

Dropping onto a gray couch in his leased condo, Luke shoved his foot into one of the fancy shoes he’d added to his meager but growing wardrobe over the weekend. He quickly tied the laces. Shopping for clothes wasn’t something he had done often in the past. Now, he had a job, and it wasn’t feasible to keep laundering the few articles of clothing he’d owned every other day. Not if he wanted to do something besides laundry and ironing. As for the footwear, his old ones were worn out.

Thanks to the generosity of the Marwoods, he had extra cash. Some of it was sent to Foxe, and the rest he’d dumped into a savings account. Luke wanted security. He’d never be Marwood rich, and that was fine. Despite his three weeks as their employee and a visit to the Marwood mansion, their wealth remained hard to fathom.

It was too far removed from what Luke had experienced in his ten years as an inspirit. There was a growing voice in his head insisting he plan for his future. Coasting from city to city wasn’t something he enjoyed. Nor did he appreciate breaking laws or stiffing people out of money they’d earned.

Luke had shifted from wanting to gain enough money to aid his travels with Foxe, to thinking about a stable existence. He’d convinced himself that rocketing around the country was a privilege, but it wasn’t. Visiting different cities and meeting new people was fine, but he hated uncertainty.

What he needed to do was convince Foxe to return to something closer to what they’d had while Foxe’s father was still alive. They’d had a roof above their head and food in their bellies, and those were luxuries Luke hadn’t appreciated enough until he’d lost them. The thought of Foxe had Luke frowning, and he checked his phone again despite it remaining stubbornly silent.

Luke had transferred money to Foxe and received a thank you from his necromancer. That was it. There hadn’t been another peep from him. The feeling of being abandoned was growing. What were Foxe’s future plans? An insidious voice whispered to Luke that Foxe wanted gambling money and nothing else.

Did Foxe expect Luke to work full time and hand over his paychecks to feed his habit? Luke hated thinking that way, but he had to be pragmatic. Foxe was fighting an addiction. A disease. Luke had done plenty of research and understood that, for Foxe, a constant battle raged within him. But he’d hoped that the growing distance between them would register as something important to his necromancer.

Luke was beginning to have his doubts. It hurt his heart. He loved Foxe. They were best friends, and he’d spent his entire life with him. Luke grabbed his keys and shoved his phone in his pocket. There was no use crying about it before work. He had a job to do, and he could shed his tears later, alone.

The Marwoods thought of everything, so Luke didn’t have to drive to work. There were employees-only busses that took them from the condominium building to Marwood properties around town. Thankfully, Luke’s job was at the first stop, so it was a relatively short ride. It saved him time and gas money.

Luke left his condo, ensured his door was secure, and ventured downstairs via the elevator. His neighbors were friendly, but Luke hadn’t focused yet on befriending anyone. All his energy and focus were on learning the ropes from Richard.

And if he had the odd daydream about Richard—or a longer erotic romp in his head while he was asleep—then that was his business. It didn’t help that Luke had learned the sole way to find his soulmate was to have sex. Luke swore that since Gabe had offered that information, it’d created a firestorm of hormones inside him. What if his soulmate was sitting next to him on the bus?

Or what if my soulmate is the gorgeous, sexy Richard Marwood?

Since daydreams were free, Luke indulged them. It was pointless to keep fighting an insistent urge as he’d done in the beginning whenever Richard came to mind.

Richard hadn’t given him any indication he was interested in a liaison, and sleeping with his boss would be monumentally stupid. Luke wouldn’t risk his job to empty his balls even if his dick thought the reward was worth the cost of getting his hands on Richard.

The necromancer had a mouth that would’ve been pouty on a man any less serious or direct than Richard. In the morning, his lips glistened with freshly applied gloss, and Luke wanted to kiss him to find out if he chose flavored products. Although Richard’s wardrobe was almost completely monochromatic, he played with textures and patterns.

It kept Luke on his toes. Would today be a faint pinstripe, a plucky paisley, or a floral? Maybe polka dots. Richard liked those. He also favored heeled boots over shoes. Luke hoped it wasn’t because Richard was five-foot-six and the necromancer was compensating for something he perceived as less than optimal.

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