Page 24 of Sin Deep
“You could read it to me.” Winter disappeared into the kitchen again and he heard plates rattling.
“Sure.” He’d never done that before, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it now. “I’d love to.”
“Good. I’d like that.” Winter sat a plate and a fork down for each of them. “I just need to get the toast.”
“Here, let me get it. I’m not broke.” He hopped up, ashamed of himself for being a laze.
“No, Harley, sit. Please. It’s my pleasure, I assure you.” Winter didn’t let him help, stepping between him and the kitchen door.
“Are you sure?” At Winter’s nod, he went back to sit. He wasn’t used to being a lazy butt.
“Today. I promised.” Winter ducked away and came back with toast and jam, balancing his own cup of coffee. “Eat, petit. While it’s hot.”
“It smells so good. How did you learn to cook?” He dug into the eggs, humming happily. He loved having folks that made things taste yummy.
“I taught myself. I watched cooking shows on TV, and I read food magazines. Now I watch YouTube videos. It’s been a lot of trial and error. But even you can make breakfast. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, I am the King of Pop-Tarts and buying doughnuts.” He winked over, then scooped up more eggs with his toast. So yummy.
Winter gave him a serious look. “Oh, no, petit. No more of that. Look at how fit you are; your body deserves better. You need to eat real food.”
He didn’t know what to say. He liked his sleep more than he liked dealing with getting to a diner for breakfast, especially since he ended up grabbing whatever he could find for lunch. Supper, though, that he had down. He had pizza Wednesday and Thursday, he bought Ollie supper on Monday and Tuesday, and Ollie cooked Sunday. Fridays and Saturdays were crazy flexible. “Yeah, I guess I should add in cereal to the mix, huh?”
Winter huffed, grinning. “I don’t believe you’ve taken my advice to heart.”
“I did!” He winked over. “Cereal is healthy. I like Frosted Mini-Wheats the best.”
“Awful processed stuff. So much sugar. It’s fortunate that you work off the calories on the job.” Winter was enjoying his breakfast, eating well, sipping his coffee. “You’ll see. You eat all your eggs, and you won’t be hungry for hours.”
“I love eggs.” He chuckled at himself. “Who am I kidding? No one’s ever accused me of being a picky eater, and these eggs are amazing.”
Winter’s eyes locked on his. “That’s a good boy.” The words were simple, but the look on Winter’s face was anything but. After a couple of seconds, one of Winter’s eyebrows arched slowly. “Hm?”
His head tilted, as he tried to work out what he needed to say. Obviously he was supposed to respond with something, but he wasn’t sure what, so he rested on a lifetime of training on being a decent human being in public. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Polite was hardly never the wrong thing to be.
“Ah!” Winter smiled like a kid who’d gotten just exactly what he’d wanted for Christmas. Pure joy. “You are wonderful. Wonderful!” Winter took his hand and kissed it, then flopped back in his chair, looking so pleased.
Harley had no idea why he was wonderful but go team him! He beamed over and finished his breakfast feeling like he was a hundred feet tall.
Winter watched him and sipped coffee.
Harley finished his coffee, not sure what he was supposed to do, so he let himself relax for a second. He would do dishes, since Winter had cooked, but he hated that whole nervous energy shit, and Winter seemed relaxed too.
Man, he was comfortable. He so didn’t want to leave and have to face the real world again.
“Suppose we clean up, then spend a couple of hours at the Met? Then I’ll send you home to freshen up so you can meet me at the club. Sundays are quieter. Or is that too much of me for one weekend?”
“I could come for a little while, absolutely. Tomorrow I start at seven so we can get to the site by eight. We’ve got a law firm to move.” He was bonded, so he got the teams with the important, heavy, or crazy delicate. It meant that he made the better money, got the better hours, and he worked with the same guys, for the most part.
“Yes, of course. I forgot. Well, let’s see what time it is. Perhaps the club isn’t the best idea. Still, you’ll need to eat dinner.” Winter stood and started picking up dishes.
He jumped up. That was his cue. “Let me do dishes. You cooked. That’s fair. Tell me about the club? I mean, like, all I know is that there were lots of guys and you.”
Winter was so much more than a ‘guy’ already. He was like…a fascination, magic, someone that he wanted to zip open and snuggle in and learn everything.
Wait, was that gross?
