Page 19 of Devil's Advocate
I ignored her, or tried to.
But she was right.Jimmy had me feeling like an out-of-control fool.The way his eyes followed me, hesitant but hungry, like he didn’t understand the pull but couldn’t resist it either—it was too familiar.
Thomas had looked at me that way once.
A flash of memory burned behind my eyes: Miami heat, the smell of incense, the cool hush of the confessional booth.Thomas’s eyes meeting mine through the grate had been the same gold-green as Jimmy’s, filled with guilt and something far worse: desire.After I’d confessed my feelings for him, he’d whispered, “Pray, Lucien.Ask God to take this lust from you.”
And I’d prayed.For hours.Until I realized the only sin was denying the truth of who I was and how I felt.
That was the day I walked away from the church and never looked back.
Now, standing in this kitchen, watching Jimmy move like temptation made flesh, I felt that same ache—only stronger.I bet Jimmy didn’t even know what he was feeling.He was trembling on the edge of awakening, and I wanted to be the one who pushed him over the edge.
“Lucien?”
His voice broke through my thoughts.He was holding a bowl of mashed potatoes, looking lost.
“Where do you want these?”
Covering your naked body.
I cleared my throat.“Over there,” I said, pointing to the counter.“Next to the rolls.”
He turned, brushing past me, and for one blinding second, his hip grazed mine.I felt it through every nerve in my body.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“Don’t be.”My voice came out lower than I meant.Rough.
His head lifted, eyes meeting mine.For a moment, neither of us moved.The noise of the kitchen faded into a hum—the clang of pans, Mama Jo’s humming, the hiss of boiling water.All of it slipped away.
There was just him.And me.And the unbearable space between us.
Mama Jo banged a spoon against the counter, startling us both.“Alright, knock it off, boys!Lunch crowd’s thinning.I can handle the rest.”
Jimmy blinked, stepping back.“We can help—”
“Nope.”She wagged her spoon.“Out.Both of you.Sit your fine asses down in the dining room, and I’ll bring you plates.”
I raised my hands in mock surrender.“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t sass me,” she warned, eyes twinkling.“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Jimmy flushed scarlet, and I nearly laughed.
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.
I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and nodded toward the dining hall.“Come on.”
He hesitated, biting his lower lip—and it took every ounce of my control not to reach out and trace that motion with my thumb.
Sweet hell, the things that lip made me imagine.
Mama Jo cleared her throat pointedly.
I forced myself to move.“After you,” I said, voice too tight.
He walked past me, with the scent of soap and sweat trailing behind him.The dining room was quiet now—empty tables, sunlight slanting through stained glass, the hum of the ancient refrigerator in the corner.
