Page 14 of Seeking Two Lovers

There’d been no yearly dentist checkups when I’d been a kid, no option of an orthodontist to fix my crooked lower teeth.

Just another insecurity to add to the shit in my life.

Grey had offered to pay, but I’d taken enough handouts from him in our nine years together.

“When do we start?” I asked, refusing to fall back into the trap like I’d done the night before and on my walk home from the cafe.

“They want two guys full time—and I was hoping you’d take on the management of the property.”

I blinked in the bright sunlight, sure I’d misheard. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, man. You’ve proven your worth time and again. No one shows up like you, works their ass off without complaint. Fuck, if I had deeper pockets, I’d offer you another raise.”

Wyatt had given me one six months earlier, and I’d been beyond thankful for his generosity.

“You’re the hardest worker I have, Blaine. Wish I could clone the fuck out of you.”

Warmth swelled inside my chest at the words of praise. If the guy kept talking like that, I’d fall into platonic love with him like I was with Grey.

“I appreciate it,” I told him.

He dipped his head. “Same. I’ll let you know what’s up with Davidson in the am, but if he calls off again, I’ll make sure you’ve got a grunt to help you finish this by Friday.”

“Sounds good.”

“I put the business sign in the yard out front—sorry I didn’t replace yours from the last job.”

Part of our contracts allowed for us to put up advertisement signs in customer’s front yards, and the one I’d had in my company truck had gone missing.

“I need to order a couple more, so I’ll be sure to grab you a few.”

“Thanks.”

Wyatt ambled back the way he’d come, and I focused back on doing a good job to keep the positive reviews coming in for Lionel’s Landscaping. The busier Wyatt was, the more security I had.

Even if the new management position didn’t come with another pay raise, the knowledge that my boss trusted me to represent his family business made me smile all damn day.

When Grey got home later that night, he pulled up short, blinking at me where I stood in the kitchen, grinning like an idiot while making spaghetti.

“Did you go out and get laid all on your own?” he asked, his voice raised in disbelief at my rare display of jolliness.

“Wyatt’s offering me a management position—he landed that Sunrise Condo contract.”

“Get the fuck out.” Grey set down his briefcase and shrugged off his suit coat. “That’s fucking awesome.”

The previous twenty-four hours had been a roller coaster, diving into shit from the looks of the woman we’d shared, to chugging upward from the sight of coffee girl then cresting at the news from Wyatt.

An hour later, my brain rushed back downhill over the news Grey watched on TV behind me while I finished up our dinner dishes.

A young girl, barely legal, had filed charges of childhood rape—against a well-known TV evangelist.

My stomach emptied right there on the floor, spaghetti, beer, and bile splattering over the marble tile.

“Fuck!” Grey hopped off the couch, the TV shut down and the clicker tossed, clattering on the living room floor. “Sorry, Blaine—I didn’t change channels fast enough—fucking hell.”

Another eruption gagged me, and I coughed, bent over with my hands on my knees.

Memories slammed into my brain, and I shook, eyes wide and staring at the reddened mess I’d made so I wouldn’t focus on the images in my head.

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