Page 90 of The Long Game

“Shut up,” Grady said, trying not to smile.

“Or haven’t strained something recycling all those little containers,” Jack said, throwing the empty box by the door.

“Gosh, is that the time?” Grady looked at his bare wrist. “You sure you don’t have plans tonight, Jack?”

Jack began pulling all kinds of mysterious boxes and jars from the cabinets. “No, I’d better stay. Though I do worry about the devastating impact on the local economy if you start eating in more often.”

Grady eyed the food on the counter and wondered when Jack had found time to stock his kitchen, what with everything else he’d been doing over the last couple of days. Then Jack pulled meatballs from the freezer and therealmystery was how Jack had fit anything in there with the ice cream.

Jack opened the refrigerator and Grady was startled when jars rattled together. It was such a familiar noise, a homey one, and one that had never been heard in his apartment.

Jack bent to retrieve peppers from the crisper and even the magnificence of the view couldn’t distract Grady from noticing he now had—were thosecapers? Did anyone actually know how to cook with those?

It should probably freak him out that his house was full of things he barely recognized and hadn’t known he needed, but it only made him feel warm and content. In a matter of days, Jack had transformed his bachelor pad into ahome—the first one Grady had lived in since his family had thrown him away.

And he’d done it with fuckingcapers.

Jack looked up warily when Grady came charging around the island, but he didn’t protest when Grady tugged the knife out of his hand and set it aside before stealing a kiss.

Jack kissed him back, lingering and sweet.

“Oh Christ, they’re modeling healthy relationships again,” Colton wailed from the couch.

Grady sighed, because the kid was hilarious butsucha mood killer. He held Jack close and felt the tensions of the day melt away as Jack put his head on Grady’s shoulder and tucked his face against Grady’s neck.

“This is nice,” Jack murmured, sounding surprised.

“It is. We can do this any time,” he promised.

“Okay,” Jack agreed softly, and Grady’s heart squeezed in his chest.

Christ, he had no idea what the hell they were doing, and some part of his brain kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to happen that would make it all fall apart. For Jack to leave.

It was terrifying.

And yet, stillworth it. Because Grady would fight for this. He wasn’t going to let anything happen if he could prevent it. He was going to hold Jack like this as often as possible and the rest of the universe could go fuck itself.

“Think they’ll stop canoodling before we starve to death?” Colton wondered.

“I think it’s nice,” Sam defended. He smiled at them as he entered the kitchen, then searched the lower cabinets until he came up with a large pot.

A far larger pot than any Grady had ever owned.

“Should I even ask where that came from?”

“You’re no longer cooking for one,” Jack explained.

Which was true, except that it implied he’d ever cooked at all.

At the knock on the door, Jack gave Grady a final squeeze and stepped away. Grady resisted the urge to draw him back since Colton had a point about starving to death before Grady would want to let go.

Jack opened the door to reveal Travis and Barnaby, each holding a bottle of wine.

“I hear spaghetti and meatballs are on the menu tonight,” Travis said cheerfully as he stepped inside and kicked off his shoes.

Grady welcomed them and relieved them of the wine while Jack re-introduced Colton and introduced Sam. It had been Jack’s idea to invite them over, and as the conversation got lively, both boys engaged, Grady felt relief knowing Travis and Barnaby were right upstairs if the boys ever needed them.

He went to where Jack was working at the stove and bumped their hips together. “Thank you.”

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