Page 23 of Sin Deep
Harley stepped right into Winter’s space. Winter didn’t need an excuse. “Good morning.”
Winter wrapped around him, pulled him in with a soft sigh. “Mm. Hello there.”
Oh.
Oh, he did love that—the contact, the holding. That was like a drug, and Harley thought he could get addicted.
Winter ended the embrace with a squeeze and kissed his temple. “Come with me. You’ll love the living room in the morning. So much light.”
They headed in, and Winter was right. The room was a treasure trove, and the light was glorious, warming the entire space.
“I’ll start us off with some coffee.” Winter went through a narrow doorway into the kitchen. It was tiny, with no room for a table, but it was clean and Winter moved around it easily. “Then eggs and bacon, toast and jam…we’ll have a little feast and then talk about plans for the day. A movie perhaps, or a museum? What have you seen since you’ve been here?”
“I’ve seen a ton from the window in the truck, and I’ve seen a bunch of amazing homes.” He would never cease to be amazed by how an ugly building could hide amazing insides. He loved that. “And I’ve walked everywhere in my neighborhood, explored all the things I can. That’s one of my favorite things here. There’s endless things to look at.”
Compared to his hometown of three thousand people? He could watch and look for eighty years.
“Have you been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art? Have you seen the view from the top of the Empire State Building? Have you wandered through Tribeca or Little Italy? These are things you need to do. I know you said you’ve seen the public library.” Winter scrambled eggs as he talked and put a frying pan on the stove. “Do you like mushrooms? Peppers?”
“I love them. And not yet. I must have been waiting for you, so we can go together.”
“That must be the case.” Winter smiled at him, then went to the fridge and pulled out veggies. “So we’ll go. How do you feel about chopping these?”
“Show me how you want it, and I’ll figure it.” He could cut his own meat up, surely he could manage a mushroom.
Winter sat a cutting board on the counter and put half a pepper on it, then slid it over to him. “We only need about half of this, and then you can start on the mushrooms. Do you know how to hold a knife? Like this. Start here, rock it back toward you.” Winter showed him, then set the knife down for him to pick up. “Watch your fingers.”
He wasn’t good at it, but he didn’t cut himself, and Winter didn’t fuss at him for being slow, so it was actually fun.
In fact, Winter kept busy and didn’t seem in any hurry at all. Bread for toast appeared on the counter, bacon went into the oven, and then Winter set a mug of coffee down in front of him. “How do you take your coffee, petit?”
“At work, black. When I’m fixin’ to enjoy it? Sweet and creamy.”
Winter chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Let me sweeten that up for you then.” Winter slid the mug away and doctored it.
“Mmm…” He took a drink, groaning at the taste of the coffee. God, that was perfect somehow.
“This all looks good. I think that’s enough mushrooms. Slide everything into the frying pan, please? Be careful. I’ve got the pan warming.”
“Just put them in?” Harley did as he was asked, the sizzle making him smile.
“Good. Now you can sit and relax with your coffee, and I will make you your breakfast like I promised.” Winter winked at him. There wasn’t any room to sit in this tiny kitchen though. “Try the big chair in the living room. The one by the window. It’s my reading chair.”
“Excellent.” He bebopped over and found the chair, curling in happily. “Oh, Winter! This is heaven.”
He picked up the book next to the chair, curious to see what was on the reading list. The hardcover copy ofThe Big Sleephad a library barcode on the spine.
“It is, isn’t it? There’s a little table that unfolds, so we can eat at that.” The smell of bacon was already filling the room.
“Neat.” He opened the book and grinned. His grampa had loved this movie. “Phillip Marlowe, huh? Good taste.”
“Back when books had cards in the front with names, that card had my name on it dozens of times. There are new copies now, so I took that one home for good.” Winter came in and set up the card table, then pulled over a second chair. “Some people have comfort food, comfort slippers… I have that book.”
“Yeah? Mine isTerritoryby Emma Bull. Not a classic, but I love it. Tombstone meets magic.”
Winter looked at him, head tilting. “I haven’t read it. I suppose I will have to check it out of the library. Soon.”
“You can borrow my copy. I brought it from home. It’s in my backpack.” He had brought everything he could carry, which had ended up being jeans, shoes, t-shirts, and books. That, his phone, and his laptop was all he needed.
