Page 1 of Wylan

Prologue: Seth

A year and a half ago…

“Seth, we have an issue at table nineteen.”

I let a deep breath out through my nose and roll my shoulders. There’s another soft knock on my door. “What is it, Scotty?” I snap at my employee. The server’s eyes pop wide, and a wave of guilt hits me. I never… and I mean never, snap at my employees. I have a reputation for being a good, kind boss, buttodayalways gets me in my damn feels.

Fuck. I think I even used my Dom voice.I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, Scotty. It’s been a really rough day.” Every year on this day is a hard one for me.

Scotty’s shoulders relax at my words, accepting the excuse as truth. I give him a small grateful smile. I’m a strong believer in running my business with a friendly yet firm hand, rather thanbeing an overbearing dictator. Keeping my employees happy is important to me.

“It’s okay, boss.”

“Seth,” I correct easily. “Now, what’s going on with table nineteen? Please don’t tell me he’s upset with the dessert menu.”

Tonight is the first night my restaurant, Silk, is featuring an extensive dessert menu. This extra sweetness is a tribute to the boy I adored. The boy I lost all those years ago.

“No. It isn’t the menu, that’s been a wild success. The gentleman at table nineteen has a complaint about the couple at table twelve. He wants to speak with the owner.”

I arch a brow as I stand from my office chair. Scrubbing my hand through my wavy blond hair, I gather it into a bun and tie it in place with a ponytail. “What’s wrong with the couple at table twelve? Did one man steal another man’s wife or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Let’s just say he’s offended by the two men.” Scotty’s face turns a deep shade of red. “The couple is rather…intimate. I didn’t ask him for a reason when he ignored me and kept demanding to speak with you.”

I roll my eyes. Damn it. I better not be dealing with some homophobic assholes. “Thanks, Scotty. Let me get presentable, and I’ll be right there.” Scotty nods, clicking the door closed behind him. In the large mirror attached to my office door, I glance at my white shirt, the sleeves rolled to my elbows. Idon’t even bother unfolding the sleeves. Instead, I throw my suit jacket over the dress shirt and check my watch.

I’m making good time. I still have an hour until my demo at Dark Satin starts. I usually like to meditate before each demo I teach, but tonight, I’ll just be thankful for any distraction before I head over to the kink club. Since tonight is the anniversary of the passing of one of the only boys I’ve ever loved, I need to stay busy. I need to keep my mind off of all the what-ifs.

At the last moment, I shrug back out of my suit jacket and opt for the casual, rolled-up sleeve look. Even though this is a fancy restaurant, the townsfolk are used to me in casual wear. I figure that if this asshole is a homophobic prick, then he can get a good look at the pride flag tattooed on my forearm before I kick him out.

As I make my way through the kitchen and onto the floor, Scotty spots me and guides me to the correct table. My face scrunches in confusion when I see an angry-looking blond man sitting at table nineteen. It isn’t the blond that confuses me, though, but the fact he’s sitting with a younger man who is currently trying to rub soothing intimate circles on the angry fucker’s wrist.

Okay, so he clearly isn’t homophobic.

I place a smile on my face and extend my hand out to the grumbling red-faced man. “Thank you for visiting Silk. My name is Seth. I’m the owner of this restaurant. How can I help you today?”

“Carl,” he barks. “We have an issue here.”

Carl sneers at my hand, eyes bouncing behind me—probably at the table with the couple who’s currently offending him. I continue to hold my hand out to the jackass, not dropping it. I’m here to try to helphim, and if he’s too good to shake my hand, then that shows me a lot about his character. After another awkward few seconds, I’m shocked when tiny, slim fingers slide against mine, and an electric spark jolts through me.

I forgot all about the quiet young man sitting with Carl. My eyes flicker over to the jerk’s poor date and I freeze.

A gasp tumbles from the dark-haired beauty’s plush lips. Wide, doe-like blue eyes meet mine, and I find myself momentarily transfixed.

Fuck. He’s beautiful.

Something about this man reminds me of… a rare flower. Precious, exquisite, and delicate.

It’s clear that he’s embarrassed about his date’s behavior and is trying to save face by shaking my hand. I angle my body toward the pretty man who’s giving me all his attention. That’s a mistake. Abigfucking mistake when the pretty little thing doesn’t let go of my hand, but continues to blink up at me with his innocent blue eyes and slightly parted lips.

Carl is too busy babbling about how the couple several tables away are ruining his night, to even notice that his date and I aretrapped under some strange spell. Even my body reacts against my will and I start to grow hard. I always pride myself on my control, but apparently, with this young man, I just can’t seem to help myself.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I let go of the man’s hand. I’m not a homewrecker or a cheat. I would never get between a couple—well, not without consent and eager participation.

Carl snaps again.

His date turns a deeper shade of red. “Carl,” he whispers, and I don’t like the way he sounded so timid, almost nervous.

Carl glances at his date. “That’s enough. You don’t need to fuck anything else up tonight.”

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