Page 29 of Finders Keepers
“Wow. We both must have really needed that.”
It was Nate’s turn to make a noise in lieu of agreement.
“I suppose we ought to get up and get the day started.”
“Ought we?” Nate asked, but Wesley was right. Once they left the warm coziness of the bedding, there’d be no going back. They both knew it.
“Nature’s calling me.”
“Same here.” Nate sighed. “Let’s meet in the kitchen for brunch in twenty minutes or so.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They moved through the next twenty minutes in quiet harmony, easing into the rhythm of the morning. Like a real couple would. If only…
* * * * *
Wesley entered the kitchen and was summarily shooed right back out, cup of coffee in hand. “I can help. I feel a lot better than even yesterday.” Amazing what a good night’s sleep next to a hot man could do.
“Glad to hear that, but there’s not much left to do. Have a seat.” Nate set two large, shallow dinner bowls and a platter on the raised stretch of counter space. Silverware jangled as Nate grabbed what was needed from the drawer and then came around to the dining table.
Wesley peered at the contents of the bowl Nate set in front of him. Some sort of beef was piled next to a mound of quinoa. Bite-sized chunks of tomato and avocado added bright splashes of color. The platter boasted several slices of toast with almond butter and sliced bananas. He reached for a piece of toast. “This looks interesting. Good, but interesting.”
“Lean protein and complex carbs. Rich in antioxidants—” He pointed at the tomatoes, then at the avocados. “—healthy fats and anti-inflammatory benefits.”
They ate in harmonious silence for a while. Once Wesley had consumed about half the beef and a third of the quinoa, he asked, “What do you think about going to the Bob Kerrey Bridge today?”
“Are you up for that?” Nate’s eyebrow arched and he took a huge bite of toast.
“We’ve been holed up in here for close to a week, and I could really use some fresh air and sunshine. A little walking can’t hurt. As long as you’re not planning to sprint to the center of the bridge, I should be fine. Besides, there are benches along the bridge if I need to sit.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
With a nod, Wesley said, “I’m sure.”
Thirty minutes later, they’d parked and were headed for the walking path that would get them onto the bridge. But first they passed the tr—
“What is that?” Nate asked with a chuckle.
OMAR was made of bronze and sat on a flat rock in the shade of the bridge. He was blue from the top of his pointy hair to the tips of his four fingers and three toes. He wore a white tee shirt and orange shorts.
“That’s OMAR, the blue bridge troll. You want to take a picture for your social media?”
“Good idea. Show fans I’m checking out the city. I’ll post later though, once we’re back at the condo.”
“Gimme your phone, I’ll take the picture.”
“Let’s take one together.”
“Not for your official social media.”
“I don’t care about that.” Nate arched an eyebrow. “Nate Hennessey, vocal ally, nice to meet you.”
Wesley swiped a hand at him. The man had no sense of self-preservation. “I know you don’t, but I don’t need my location documented on the Internet right now—”
“Oh, shit. Right. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Get over there next to OMAR and smile so I can take your picture.”
