Page 19 of Gideon's Gratitude

Chapter Four

Archer

More than two hours passed before I completed my inspection, made changes to some of the ordered finishings, and met everyone on the site. I’d sorely neglected coming out here, but I’d make up for it in the next day or so.

And, finally, my phone was charged.

Twenty-three missed calls and eighteen missed texts.

Most were from either my personal assistant or my family. As I dismissed each one, unease set in. I should respond, but the thought wearied me. I belonged to a group chat with my sisters and brothers—Cherish’s idea, not mine. One message would reach all of them. Wouldn’t silence the chatter, but it’d kill seven birds with one stone.

Ouch, bad expression.

I shot off a response to Jean-Michel with a request the man hold down the fort. I made no promises of when I’d return. A few casessimmered, but nothing was urgent. In fact, I should probably make referrals for most of my clients. I had no idea if the situation that had driven me out here would be easily resolved or if more time was needed. People smarter than me needed to figure that out.

And speaking of smarter. A text from my doctor. Unwelcome, but not unexpected. My finger hovered and the urge to swipe to dismiss overwhelmed me. So easy. One flick of the finger.

Nope. I opened the text, scanned it, cursed, and responded tersely. No way was I opening this can of worms. It could wait. Everything could wait. Everyone could wait. I had problems to sort out, and getting everyone’s input would create noise and distraction. Distraction I could ill-afford.

I stomped. I wasn’t dressed for this weather. Riley had offered to send someone into town to buy what I needed, but I turned her down. Which meant I’d be going to dinner in this suit.Should’ve taken her up on her offer.Choices, at the moment, overwhelmed me. So many. I could pull off decisions about the house because, although they affected me, the results were in the far-distant future. Anything that required attention right now was too much to deal with.

I glanced over at the property line, and a warmth enveloped me. The invitation had been clear. Leaving the door unlocked was as blatant as it came. Platonic, of course. But long-repressed feelings were emerging. Awakening after a very long slumber. I loved women. Well, my wife at least. We’d had a decent sex life. With hindsight, I recognized there’d never been fire. Desire. We’d clicked because we had the same ambition. She’d gone elsewhere for those needs to be met, and I’d been okay with that.

Now, though, at thirty-nine years old, I mourned what I’d never had. Well, not never. There’d been a guy in undergrad at university. We’d both been interested in experimentation, and when graduationcame, we’d gone our separate ways. I rarely allowed myself to think about that time in my life. When I’d been a different person. I certainly wouldn’t label myself bisexual, because one same-sex relationship didn’t define me, certainly.

Well, then there was Chevy.

I sighed. My aborted attempt at a hookup. With a guy who’d been so much of a asshole that I’d seriously considered deleting the app entirely. He’d come across as caring and considerate. As a great doggie dad.

All manipulation. Turned out he left his dogs—and his kids—home with his wife who likely had no idea the jackass was cheating on her with other men.

Gross.

Just gross.

As I’d booted him out of my hotel room—buck naked—I’d offered to represent his wife for free in any divorce proceedings. Hell, I’d seriously considered finding her and warning her about the man she was married to.

But I hadn’t. Instead I’d had two medical issues that led to me worrying about other things and not, until this moment, circling back.

I should find her and send an anonymous letter.

None of my business and that might endanger her.

Sometimes I hated not being able to step in and fix things. Hell, for all I knew, she might know about his dalliances and have no issues with being married to a douchebag.

So I’d tried to be with a man again. Had thought maybe that might obliterate the memory of my cheating wife.

Hadn’t worked. Hell, I hadn’t even gotten hard. So maybe I wasn’t really bisexual.Or maybe your cock knew how much of a jackass Chevy really was.

Entirely possible.

Plus, I’d gotten into the shower and had jerked off with a large dildo in my ass. So yeah, bisexual was entirely possible.

Now? I was attracted to Gideon. No two ways about it. Not just his clearly broken spirit. No, to him as a man. All angles and fresh mountain scent. When my nose had been against his ear, I’d considered placing a kiss just below his earlobe on his neck.

Had stopped myself because, as one knew, consent was a thing.

This pull toward him was something unexpected. And maybe last night’s forced proximity had brought on these feelings. My neighbor was definitely unlike Nolan, with whom I’d shared a bed with in university. I rarely gave in to the memories of that idyllic time. Yes, our affair had been illicit. But it’d also been intense. Adolescent love. Passionate.

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