Page 66 of Honorable Convictions
“I would, but we haven’t been together long enough to consider it expertise.”
“Yet.”
“The yet was implied, Brooks.”
“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me that I like the snippy way you call me Brooks when you correct me.”
“It used to piss you off.”
“You stopped using it to put distance between us.”
“I stopped trying to use anything to put distance between us, Brooks.”
Mitchell winked at him and returned to his calculations of what it was going to take to finish putting together their office. “I think we’ll need three long shelves for this wall.”
“Tell me what kind you want.”
“It’s your place too, pick what you like.”
“I also need to find the closest market.”
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like I can help with that. I don’t think I’ve been in a grocery store once in my life.”
“I fail to understand how that’s even possible.”
“Someday you’ll have to take me with you.”
“Mitch, there’s so much in my head right now—”
“Stop it,” Mitchell ordered. “I didn’t say it to make you feel bad that we can’t do that yet or that we lack a set date for our future. I’d just like you to know that it’s something I want to experience with you because you enjoy food and cooking. I like your excitement about things, and maybe you can teach me how to squeeze melons or something.”
“Squeeze melons?”
“To check for freshness or some shit, right?”
Pierson shook his head as if he couldn’t handle Mitchell’s level of ignorance. “It’s a good thing fallen knights can’t starve to death.”
“Go buy me some shelves. And blackberries.”
Walking to him, Pierson stole a kiss. “I’m glad I still get to be liaison.”
“Of course you’re the liaison. Who else on this planet could do it?”
“You, Mitch. You’re a natural people person and would be perfect for the job.”
With a roll of his eyes, Mitchell lightly smacked Pierson’s butt. “Don’t make fucking artichokes for dinner.”
“You have so many strange facets to your personality.”
“They’re disgusting, and you forgot to say that you love me anyway.”
“Fate help me, but I do.”
Mitchell laughed as Pierson strode out of the room. While his mate shopped, Mitchell pulled his bag from the floor to get some casework done. With the office cluttered, he’d need to work from the couch.
“Mitch,” Pierson yelled from the foyer.
Concerned with the ire in his voice, Mitchell headed toward him once his satchel was slung over his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Blondie?”
