“Fuck you, Frankenstein,” he muttered sleepily.

Dragging himself out of bed, he showered and pulled on Vin’s sweats. Rich breakfast sausage, butter, and coffee crumbled his stubborn resistance and Chris sullenly went to the kitchen.

“Morning,” Vin said, holding out a coffee mug.

Chris reached for it, but Vin grabbed his forearm out of nowhere, a scowl on his face. Shit, morning after regrets?

“From the cuffs?” Vin rotated Chris’ arm, studying the fur-burn.

“Matching pair,” Chris said, lifting his other hand for Vin to see.

“Damn. I’m sorry.” He tenderly placed a kiss on the inside of both wrists.

“I’ll wear long sleeves today,” Chris said past the tightness in his throat. A kiss the next morning. That meant something, right?

Chris sipped the strong brew. Cream, no sugar. He’d remembered.

Vin flipped the last pancake out of the skillet and handed him the plate, along with a container of syrup. Chris’ spirits rose as he took it to the table and discovered an impressive array of breakfast food. Pancakes and syrup, sure, but sausage, scrambled eggs with onions, tomatoes, green peppers, along with butter, hash browns, and biscuits with sausage gravy, cut melon and fresh strawberries.

“I got carried away,” Vin said, shrugging. He took a seat and motioned for Chris to join him.

“You cook?” Chris asked, incredulously.

“Dad was a chef.”

Chris dropped into his seat. A blush warmed his cheeks. “You can cook and you ate re-warmed ramen, mac and cheese, and canned fruit cocktail?”

Amusement crinkled Vin’s eyes.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?” And why the fuck had he devoured every bite of it and thanked Chris like it had been appreciated?

“It was good.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Chris said.

Vin passed him the hash browns. A smile softened his lips. “You made it for me.”

He said it like it the answer should have been obvious. Chris would have got up from the table to kiss those lips if things had ended differently last night. Instead, he sat confused, humbled and shocked as all hell.

“Eat,” Vin admonished.

Chris loaded his plate. At first he settled in and ate, scarfing down the food, but the flavor slowed him to savoring appreciation. “Oh my God,” he said, his mouth full. “This is incredible.”

“Your girlfriends stopped by.”

“When?” Chris swallowed, his mouth already watering for the next bite.

“Nine.”

Chris should have been suited by then. “Fuck, why didn’t you wake me up?”

Vin quit chewing and shot him a look of disbelief.

“We’re on a job. I should have been up at seven.”

“They’re coming back in an hour to help us unpack. You’ve got time.” Vin’s look turned smoky, knowing. “Besides, you were up late.” He sank his teeth into a strawberry, closing the morsel away from sight as he chewed.

Chris wanted the right to kiss him, swipe the strawberry from his lover’s mouth with a deep taste. Or ask Vin to put those teeth on Chris’ body again. His dick seemed to think the idea had merit.

“Want something?” Vin asked, his voice dark and low.

You. “Thanks for breakfast,” he choked out.

“Welcome.”

Vin’s gaze dropped to Chris’ mouth, his chest. “I’ll do the dishes. You get into drag.”

“I can-”

“I got it.” Vin hooked his head toward the hall. “Not much time.”

“Right.” Chris stood. Belatedly, he realized his erection still pushed at the cotton sweats. “I really liked breakfast,” he said, heading toward the hall.

Vin choked on his coffee, barely swallowing as laughter rolled forth.


* * * *

“You sure you want to give him up?” Carla whispered three hours later. “He’s really something else.”

The women’s admiration grated on Chris’ nerves. He’d watched Vin smile and flirt casually with them for the past hour. Seen the way they twisted to look at his ass. And Vin didn’t seem to mind.

Fuck him.

Oh, God, he had. His body quivered knowing exactly what it wanted more of.

“Course not. I like my toys,” he said, flashing what he hoped was a sincere smile.

“You ever want to do a threesome?” Doreen asked.

“What are you ladies whispering about?” Vin asked. He flashed his sexy smile and Nina blushed.

“Vinny?” Chris sang.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can’t you unpack the office or something?” Chris asked sweetly.

“And leave you? With them?” Warm and teasing, his smile charmed the women. It set Chris’ teeth on edge.

“Yep.”

Vin caught him around the waist and hauled Chris up against his hard, sweaty body. “Yes, ma’am.” Vin’s eyes grew serious. “Whatever you want is yours, honey. Just ask.”

Carla aw-ed.

Did he mean it? It looked-real. Chris wanted a lot of things, and they all included Vin naked in some form.

Vin bent, his eyes trained on Chris’ lips. The moment stilled. Flutters hit Chris’ belly. Memories from the night before when Vin had looked at him that intently brought other memories of thrilling ecstasy and ass-pounding pleasure. He thought of Vin’s face as orgasm took him so hard he shouted with the force of it, gnashed his teeth and flexed into shooting proof of his satisfaction.

Sharp pain seared Chris’ groin. Gasping, he reeled with the double attack of pain and regret.

Concern clouded Vin’s eyes. “Hey,” he murmured. “You all right?”

“Christy? You okay?” Doreen asked.

If possible, Vin’s tender concern made the situation worse and Chris planted a hand on his chest to push him away. “Fine. Cramps,” he bit out, loud enough to be heard by everybody.

He saw confusion, disappointment in Vin’s eyes.

“Don’t,” he snapped, hoping Vin took the hint.

“Yeah, sure.” He dropped his arms and turned stiffly away. “I’ll see you ladies tonight.”

Chris didn’t look to see whatever smile he conned them with. He didn’t feel much like losing Vin to a gaggle of women. Damn these pantyhose.

A kiss. Just one kiss! Please?

Someone up there hated him.

“Aw, poor guy.” Doreen tracked Vin’s movements until he’d disappeared.

Now or never, Chris thought, taking a breath. “Do you know where I can get seedlings?” Chris pretended to polish the statue she pulled from the box. “You know, of um-oregano?”

The ladies exchanged looks.

Chris ducked his head and reached for another newspaper wrapped knickknack. “Vinny-he eats a lot of Italian food. Before we moved, I had my own set-up. Of herbs.”

Carla snorted.

Nina elbowed her and Doreen smoothly stepped between them.

“Your own herb garden? How nice,” Doreen cooed.

“Some specialty stuff,” Chris hedged, looking at her meaningfully.

“Oh?” Doreen’s smile twisted knowingly.

Chris darted a glance toward the direction of the office. Time to drop some key words from the cover story. “My friend, in Emerson, said she heard of someone in this neighborhood who could help me get my garden started. She said she’d put in a good word.”

“We might know someone,” Doreen said.

“Cut the crap, Doreen. We knew she was coming,” Carla said. She rolled her eyes at the blonde in obvious irritation. “You’re the grower-”

“Gardener,” Doreen corrected sharply.

“Gardener we’ve been expecting. We heard you might settle in one of the other three regions,” Carla enthused. “God, are we ever glad you settled here!”

Nina nodded. “The Green-Queen.”

“Shh!” Doreen glared at her cohorts.

“Oh, please, Doreen. We need the business help. We asked the boss and the boss delivered.”

Chris smiled, making a show of his relief. “Oh, thank God. I thought I had the wrong contacts. You had me worried there for a minute.”

Carla laughed openly. “What made you choose us? With your references, you could have gone anywhere.”

Hot damn, it worked.

“I needed a change,” Chris answered. With any luck, fictional Christy had moved into a change.

“But why represent three gardeners instead of a dozen in Morrison or Pendleton?” Doreen asked.

Those weren’t among the list of other territories in the case file. Chris pursed his lips, studying Doreen. “Hinkner and Washal?” he corrected.

Doreen’s smile brightened ten-fold. “Exactly.” She wrapped Chris in a big hug.

Passed the test. “Less competition. Greater room for expansion,” Chris answered the earlier question.

“Well, whatever the reason, we’re glad you’re here.” Carla said. “We’ve got something special for you tonight.”

“Very special,” Nina said.

“Can’t wait.” Chris heard the distinct sound of a shower running and darted a glance toward the office. “So the seedling?” he asked.

“After tonight,” Doreen promised. “But now you should get yourself fixed up. I have the caterers at the house working, but you know how they are-constantly wandering without direction. Come on, girls. We have a lot to celebrate tonight.”

“Amen to that,” Carla whooped.

The thought of Vin’s incredible body slicked with hot water distracted him. Part of his brain still worked, though, and Chris hooted a pathetic cheer. Right about now, the bathroom lighting would glisten of his muscles. Vin could be soaping up his rock-hard cock. Pain shot to Chris’ groin. “Ow! Fuck!”

“Aw, honey, take some Midol and lay down for a few minutes. We’ll get out of your hair.”

Chris didn’t know which of the women had spoken. Didn’t care either. His brain and his cock had one thing in mind-had two things in mind. Taking off the damn pantyhose and finding a way to fuck Vin.

He barely got the door shut but already, he hauled up his skirt and tucked it into the front waistband. Chris reached inside the mesh death-trap-for-males and freed his junk. “Okay boys, let’s see what Chef Vincent’s cooking up in the shower.”