Page 10 of Cash

“What size shoe do you wear?” Brick blurted out.

“Eighteen.” Jules shrugged.

“How do you even find shoes?”

“I got a guy.”

“Well, if you don’t mind lime green, those monster slippers might fit you. I’m a fifteen.”

Jules chuckled as he slid his foot into them. Part of his heel stuck out, but it was much better than the other pair. “Cute.”

“Come on. Dinner’s almost ready.” Brick led Jules into the kitchen, cringing when he saw him pause to glance over some of the pictures along the way.

Of course, Brick’s cheerleader portrait was of interest.

Jules didn’t say anything, however, and followed Brick to the kitchen. Instead of taking a seat at the small breakfast table, he kept going and poked through the drawers until he found a bottle opener for the wine. He nodded toward the pot, noting, “Smells good as fuck.”

“Thanks! I just have to get the beef and mushrooms back in.” Brick washed his hands at the sink. “It’ll cook for about ten more minutes, and then it’ll be ready.”

Jules went on exploring cabinets to track down a wine glass. He filled it, refilled Brick’s empty one, and took a long sip.

Brick had just started splitting the beef, but he stole little glances to see what Jules was up to. He smirked. “Just making yourself right at home, huh?”

“Yup.” Jules nudged Brick’s glass across the counter. “You need to try this shit. I don’t usually like wine, but my sister got me hooked on this.”

“I will. Got meat hands right this second.” Brick wiggled his fingers at Jules. “Kinda messy.”

“Here.” Jules picked up the glass and offered it up to Brick’s lips. “Just say when.”

Brick nearly choked—from both Jules’s sudden proximity and the flood of wine in his mouth. It was rich, dry, with a hint of something spicy and warm that Brick couldn’t immediately place. He almost forgot to give Jules some sort of sign to stop. “Mmmph!”

“Good, huh?” Jules grinned.

“Really good.” Brick licked around his mouth to collect a dribble of wine. “Wow. What is that?”

“Cycles Gladiator. Merlot.” Jules took a gulp from his glass. “Good shit.”

“Yeah.” Brick’s heart was fluttering, and he was so frazzled that he didn’t even bother with a knife to slice up the mushrooms. He broke them up by hand and then dumped the whole bowl inside the boiling pot. He put the bowl in the sink, washed his hands, and hurriedly dried them off.

Jules remained a few feet away, his hip propped against the counter as he sipped his wine. “Translate anything fun today?”

“Not today, but I did get a spicy romance novel I get to work on this week.” Brick finished off his glass. “So, that’ll be fun. What about you? You get to fix anything?”

“Not yet. Still workin’ on it.”

“Uh-huh. All right, Mr. Mysterious.” Brick chuckled. “You always talk this much?”

“This is talking a lot.” Jules paused, and then he clarified, “For me, I mean.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Jules picked up the wine to refill Brick’s glass again.

“Thank you.” Brick swore to himself to take it slow with this one and allowed himself a dainty slurp. “To what do I owe the honor then? My charming personality?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you kinda remind me of my sister.” Jules grinned ruefully.

“Obviously, your sister must be amazingly attractive, blindingly brilliant, and super fun to hang out with.” Brick batted his eyes.

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