You Were Made for Me by Tinnean

Author:Tinnean [Tinnean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay action, gay love story, gay adult
Publisher: Tinnean
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

VII

I BROUGHT VALENTINE back to my uncles’ house. “Why don’t you freshen up?” I suggested. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” He looked wan, and I didn’t know if it was because he’d had a long day or because of whatever news he’d received from that phone call.

While he was in the half bath, I went to the gourmet kitchen Tony had had his designer come up with—amusing since, although both my uncles could put together a basic meal, neither of them needed a kitchen with all the bells and whistles this one had.

I took out my phone and called Mark.

“Vincent. Go.” The call had gone directly to his voicemail.

“Something’s going on with Valentine. I’ve got it under control—he’s here at my uncles’ house—so I don’t expect you to either twist Ben-David’s arm to fly you out here or to take the first flight you can book. As soon as I discover what’s happening, I’ll let you know. Trust me, okay?” And then, just because I knew it would it would tease him, I sent a kiss over the line.

Chuckling, I hung up and set my phone on the counter beside the coffeemaker, then removed my suit jacket and draped it over a chair.

I opened the fridge and studied the contents.

There wasn’t much—we’d barbecued the last of the steaks the evening before, and Tony apparently hadn’t called to have more groceries delivered—so I checked the freezer.

And struck pay dirt—a package of tilapia fillets. There was also a loaf of French bread.

Val came to stand beside me and peered into the freezer. “What are we having?” he asked.

“I thought, perhaps, parmesan crusted tilapia?”

“I haven’t had that in a long time.”

“You’re familiar with the dish?”

“Yes. Our cook used to make it every Friday.”

“Oh?”

“Not that we were Catholic. Mother was one for a set schedule. You know, veal on Monday, beef on Tuesday, grouse on Wednesday, like that. The problem is the fillets are frozen. They’ll need to be defrosted.”

“They will.” I took the package from the freezer.

“I’m awfully hungry,” he said wistfully.

“In that case, I don’t think we’ll have time to defrost them in the fridge.”

He held out his hand for the fish. “Do your uncles have plastic storage bags?”

I knew how he planned to thaw the fillets. He’d put them in a storage bag and place the bag in a bowl of cold water. “There should be some in the pantry,” I told him. I went to a cabinet, took out a couple of bowls, and set one aside for him.

I put the bowl I planned to use on the other end of the counter, then gathered the spices I’d need from the spice rack. The olive oil I’d also require was on an open shelf beside the cooktop.

“Do we have to have a salad with this?” Val asked as he filled the bowl with cold water, then put the storage bag containing the fillets into the bowl.

“Paul’s going to want you to have greens, isn’t he?” My uncles had double ovens, and I preheated both of them, one for the fish and the other for the French bread.

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