Page 33 of Legend

He grins at me, and I notice for the first time today that there’s another tooth missing from his mouth since the last time I saw him. “Not just baked beans,” he informs me. “It’s Breakfast for Dinner. There’s eggs, and bacon, and sausages, and mushrooms. Sometimes Dad even makes pancakes. He makes really good pancakes, you know.”

My brows shoot up. “Really?” We might not have known each other all that long, but it’s been long enough for me to learn that Tom is a total health nut. He takes his dietveryseriously. The fact that he’s willing to make a greasy full English and pancakes just because it puts a smile on his son’s face makes my heart genuinely explode.

“No pancakes today, mate. There aren’t enough eggs,” Tom says, as he clatters around the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers, getting everything he needs to make breakfast.?

“Can I help with anything?” I ask.?

He considers the offer for a moment, then nods. “You and Keegan can butter the bread ready for me to fry it.”

I’m not sure whether to be pleased that Tom is willing to accept my help, or unnerved that he’s giving me the same low-risk job he’s assigned to his eight-year-old son. Glass half-full me takes charge and decides that I’m excited. Tom Whitford doesn’t ask for help often, so if he’s giving me this job, I’m going to embrace it. I’m going to be the best bread butterer the world has ever seen.

We get to buttering and Keegan keeps up a steady stream of chatter, the opposite of his dad.

“Why did you decide to play football?”

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Have you ever been to Wembley?”

“Do you love or hate marmite?”

I answer all of his questions with a smile. The last question really making me chuckle.

“Do you like being gay?”

“Fucking hell,” I hear Tom mutter under his breath. “Keegs, you can’t ask people if they like their sexuality…or gender” he tacks on as an afterthought.

“Why not?” Keegan demands with a frown so much like his dad, it’s adorable.

“Because it’s personal and might upset someone,” Tom says as he finishes frying the bacon.?

“Sorry, Archie, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Keegan says, turning to me with a little wobble to his voice.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay. Your dad was talking about other people. You can ask me any questions you like and it won’t upset me.” I mess up his hair and I’m rewarded with a small smile. “I do like being gay. It would be nice if everyone was kinder to gay and queer people though.”

I look at Tom who’s just staring at me, an unreadable expression on his face. I hope to fuck I haven’t put my foot in it. That was a good thing to say, right? What the fuck do I know? I’ve never spent any time with kids before now.

Shit, why didn’t I spend more time with kids? I’m sure I could have wrangled some up from somewhere. They’re all over the place. Then I wouldn’t feel so out of my depth right now.

“Keegan, go set the table, mate,” Tom tells his son, never taking his eyes from me.

Keegan nods and jumps down from his stool, running out of the kitchen.

“Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped-” I start.

“You’re fine. It’s…nice that you said that. He’ll take advantage and ask you all the intrusive questions, though,” he says with a smirk. “Hope you’re prepared for that.”

That fucking smirk. It’s even hotter than a furrowed brow. Especially when it’s directed my way. It makes me wonder what his expression would be like during sex. Would it be all intense like I’ve always imagined? Or would this playful side come out? I wonder if he’s a top or a bottom? Or maybe he likes to switch it up? That’d be nice—as much as I’d love to know what it feels like to have him pounding away inside me, I definitely wouldn’t turn down a go at that incredible arse…too bad I’ll never know.

“Archie? Hey--what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tom’s fingers snap in front of my face and I realise I’ve been staring. And daydreaming. And starring some more.

He’s moved so close to me, I can smell him. Grass and sandalwood. My two favourite scents. He is not doing my dick any favours.

“My cock is sad and it’s your fault,” I blurt out.

Fucking hell.One day, I won’t word vomit all over the man. That will be a fun day for me.

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