“What the fuck’s a tart?”
“So, not a tart.” I held back a smile.
“If I don’t know what it is, I probably don’t like it,” Gray retorted. After a hot minute, he added, “Maybe I’d like it.”
“Apple fritter?”
“What the hell’s that thing?”
“An apple donut?”
“Ah, fuck!” he exclaimed as he threw open the shower curtain, his hands landing on his hips. It took everything I had to not drag my gaze down his naked body.We had to eat breakfast first.“Remember those donuts in New York? Was it New York?”
“It was.” I nodded slowly. Some five years ago, we hunted a demon in an orchard in New York. Gray became obsessed with the idea of going apple picking after that, so I took him. We never made it past the barn where he bought a fuck ton of apple cider donuts and a pumpkin pie. We also ended up with almost a year’s supply of apple jam.
“We should go apple pickin’ again, baby,” he said. The simplicity of the suggestion was so him and undeniable.
“Okay.” Crossing the small bathroom, I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “I’m going to get your apple strudel now before someone else buys them all.”
“You know me so damn well,” Gray replied, practically beaming. His happiness spread through me, warm and comforting.I loved putting that smile on his face and being the reason for his happiness.He grabbed my face and dragged me in for a deeper kiss—wet hands and all. But damn, it was hard to say no to him as his tongue slid across mine. He tasted like toothpaste and Twizzlers—a combination I was happily used to with him. It was uniquely Gray and went straight to my cock.
“You make leaving hard,” I murmured.
“You’re makin’ other things hard,” he said with a suggestive grin and nodded down to his dick. I didn’t have to look downto know just how turned on he was—I could feel it in my every nerve.And God, I fucking wanted to.
“Breakfast first,” I insisted as I forced myself to take a step back.
“Shower sex, breakfast, then more sex?” he attempted to counter.Fuck, he was tempting, and he knew it.
“You can’t live on Twizzlers and my cock alone, Gray.” I made myself walk out the bathroom door, knowing full well that if I didn’t, we’d end up doing all three of those things and more.
“I can fuckin’ try!” he shouted after me, but I almost missed it as I left the motel room.
As always, we picked a motel on the outskirts of the city—one next to woods and on an off-road where we’d go unnoticed. It was crappy as always, but it worked. We didn’t need much, and there were a few decent restaurants and cafes nearby.
We’d stuck around so long that Gray had favorites, and I bought those favorites as much as I could. I liked how his happiness bled into me every time I brought back the things he enjoyed.
Shamrock Bakerywas packed as always with people grabbing donuts, pastries, and drinks. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I waited in line and did my best to ignore the conflicting emotions bombarding me. I hated this part, but he loved their apple strudel while I was a fan of their breakfast sandwiches. They were freshly made with real ingredients. It beat fast food crap any day, and I could actually get Gray to eat one if I gave him it with his dessert.
Afterward, I picked up a specialty roasted coffee from the diner down the road. I wasn’t a fan of the hazelnut flavor, but Gray loved it. The place was small with the same rotating staff, and showing up every day for three weeks meant they knew my order when I walked in. One black, one specialty roast, and two orange juices because orange juice was a damn good way to getsome vitamin C in Gray since I couldn’t get him to take any supplements.
Maybe it was excessive, but I liked this shit. I liked living simply with Gray. Ten years and I wasn’t bored with it like I thought I’d be. If anything, I craved more of this with him and less of the demons and hunting we did. The longer we stayed in Cincinnati, the more obvious that desire became.
I parked at the end of the motel lot like always. Usually, no one parked there, but when I returned, an SUV sat one spot over from mine.Odd, but not a red flag.The motel had a revolving door of customers. I couldn’t be the only one who didn’t like parking near the front.
I was mid-trying to balance four drinks and too many bags of food when a stocky guy in a baseball hat approached me.
“You happen to got the time?” he asked.That was a red flag.And a poor approach tactic. I casually set my shit down on top of the car and stood taller. My gun remained hidden in my waistband if I needed it, but free hands were a must.
“Don’t you have a phone?” I replied. “Your SUV turns on?”
“Oh, come on, man.” He let out a small chuckle. “It’s just a question.”
“And in the digital and internet age, that question becomes a lot more ridiculous,” I pointed out. My eyes scanned the parking lot as a precaution, and I made note of every car in the lot all over again.Nothing out of the ordinary.
Minus the SUV and the guy asking for the time. It seemed harmless. To anyone else, it’d be harmless.But I wasn’t anyone else.And this shit wasn't normal.
“There’s no need to be a dick. It’s just a question,” he replied, his tone lighthearted.It was anything but.
