The Veranda (Lavender Shores Book 3) by Rosalind Abel

Author:Rosalind Abel [Abel, Rosalind]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wings of Ink Publications, LLC
Published: 2017-08-24T16:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Donovan

Leaning forward just in time, a glop of cheese landed on the plate instead of my lap. I looked at Spencer and gave a shake of my head. “I forgot I was wearing a designer suit there for a minute.” I glowered at the burger. “As good as this is, I feel like this suit deserved so much better for its first meal.”

Spencer was mid-bite and chewed before replying. “It’s okay. I was thinking, when we got back to the hotel tonight, maybe we could do a role reversal. This time you keep the suit on.”

It took a heartbeat to speak. The lump in my throat having nothing to do with burgers. “Yeah, that might need to happen.” Dear God, two suit fantasies lived out in one day. I didn’t know how much more I could take. I didn’t think anything could surpass what we’d done in Spencer’s office, but it sure wouldn’t hurt to try.

“I am sorry that I messed up your reservation.” He grinned. “No, actually I’m not. Nothing could make me sorry about what we did. But hopefully they didn’t have your credit card on file.”

I shook my head, keeping the lie to the nonverbal variety. The restaurant did require a credit card to hold a reservation, and I was certain the no-show fee was substantial. Like I cared. Like there was any amount of money I wouldn’t have forked over to stay in Spencer’s office as long as possible. I took another bite of my cheeseburger and placed my hand on Spencer’s leg, glanced around at the other diners of Cove Cafe, then squeezed his thigh.

“This idea of yours was brilliant. Nothing to worry about. No Lavender Shores natives looking over our shoulders, and to top it off, we are deep in the Castro. We can be as gay as we want to be.”

“It is pretty wonderful. Although, I’m pretty sure we stick out like a sore thumb, wandering around in our suits.”

He chuckled. “Oh, come on, we just passed that naked guy walking out of the porn store wearing nothing but a guitar over his junk. I know the Castro is tame compared to what it used to be, but I’d say we can get away with pretty much anything.”

“Naked man is one thing, guys in designer suits is another.” I adjusted my tie, making sure my fingers were free from grease beforehand. “Not that I’m complaining. I think this is just taking my suit fetish to a much deeper level. Which I didn’t know was possible.”

“You know, I’m totally fine with that.”

It truly was a completely different experience having a meal with Spencer in San Francisco. He wasn’t my ex-brother-in-law. He wasn’t an Epstein; I wasn’t a Carlisle. We were just two regular men on a date. Two men who’d wanted to be with each other for a decade. Two men who’d just had killer rounds of sex, donned suits, and driven to the Castro for cheeseburgers. Well, maybe regular was an overstatement.

Part of me had expected the nerves to follow me down from Lavender Shores.

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