The Delicious Series: The First Volume

by Stella Starling

  He grinned at the thought.

  Fine. So maybe Jeremy was a bit head over heels for the girl.

  Not to mention her dad.

  Who wandered in at that exact moment as if Jeremy’s thoughts had summoned him.

  Another superpower.

  Although, admittedly, he was on Jeremy’s mind often enough that maybe it wasn’t that surprising that he always seemed to show up right when Jeremy was thinking about him. But still, one could never be too sure.

  Nick leaned against the doorway, all bedhead and soft eyes and sexy-sleepy morning yumminess, and it was all Jeremy could to not to drag him right back into the bedroom. He gave Jeremy a slow smile that told him Nick had read his mind, as usual, and wouldn’t mind at all if he had.

  Well, obviously not with Ava there, but in theory.

  Jeremy did love Ava, and he definitely wouldn’t trade the time they had with her, but the whole joint custody thing had some benefits, too.

  Like not having to be quiet.

  Although the creative ways Nick came up with to keep him quiet were interesting, too. Really, as Nick would say, silver linings all around.

  “Good morning, Sprout,” Nick said, ruffling Ava’s hair when she flung her arms around his waist in an enthusiastic good morning hug. He looked over her head at Jeremy, his eyes heating up a little as they lingered on Jeremy’s glasses.

  Jeremy grinned, making a mental note to remember to wear them to bed that night. He could read his man like a book.

  “Morning, Pumpkin,” Nick said, the husky tone of his voice still innocent enough for Ava’s ears… but not by much. “What are my two favorite people doing? Up to mischief?”

  “No, prezzies!” Ava squealed, skipping over to the desk and scooping up the one Jeremy had just wrapped as evidence.

  “For me?” Nick asked, straightening up with the exact same gleam in his eye that Ava had had earlier.

  Jeremy bit back a smile. God. The two were so much alike in some ways.

  “Yes!” Ava said. “It’s from Jeremy, but it still needs a bow.”

  “Can I open it now?” Nick asked, grinning. “That way it will save a bow.”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes, shaking his head. No. Seriously. It was almost like the two of them shared genes or something.

  “Come on, J. It’s Christmas,” Nick wheedled, giving a much sexier version of Ava’s puppy dog look.

  One which Jeremy was definitely less immune to.

  But still… no.

  “It’s not Christmas yet, Nick.”

  “But it’s still a good day for presents,” Nick said, crossing the room and smoothing down the cowlick in the back of Jeremy’s hair as he stole a morning kiss. “It’s our one-year anniversary.”

  Jeremy laughed. “That’s what you claimed back in April.”

  Nick grinned, unrepentant. “April was our anniversary. Our FBF anniversary.”

  “That’s when Daddy took you on that trip!” Ava said, bouncing as she looked back and forth between the two of them. “Does that count as a present?”

  “It definitely does,” Jeremy said, grinning down at her. “But the trip was in June, for our actual, real boyfriend anniversary.”

  Seriously, Nick was obsessed with finding excuses to give him things. The summer trip had been back to Tulsa for Sherri and Kevin’s wedding vow renewal ceremony.

  Jeremy’s first six months in Seattle had been harder than he’d imagined they would be. Wonderful, of course, to be with Nick, and he had zero regrets, but he’d been surprised by how much he’d missed his friends back home. Missed, too the familiar comfort of being in a place he’d lived in all his life, even though he’d always professed to sort of hate it. Thankfully, that homesickness had faded as he and Nick built their life together, and now their cute little house and the amazingness that was the Pacific Northwest truly felt like his home.

  But back then, when Nick had surprised him with the plane tickets, he’d promptly burst into tears. It had been just what he’d needed. Nick’s superpower number three.

  But Ava was half right; Nick actually had gotten Jeremy an FBF anniversary gift, too—the espresso machine that fed Jeremy’s daily mocha habit—which had been totally unnecessary, although Jeremy loved it.

  Well, the fact that he’d gotten Jeremy another present had been totally unnecessary.

  The espresso machine was, in fact, extremely necessary.

  Or at the least, extremely convenient.

  Also, God, so sweet. Nick really did pay attention to every little thing about him. But for real, the man did tend to go a bit overboard. He was always making up questionable-sounding anniversaries that he insisted required him to give Jeremy presents.

  Anniversary of Jeremy’s first book deal.

  Anniversary of their first trip to Mt. Rainier.

  Anniversary of their second trip to Mt. Rainier.

  Anniversary of the first time Jeremy remembered to put the cap back on the toothpaste.

  Seriously.

  The man was ridiculous.

  God, Jeremy loved him.

  “Just how many anniversaries do we get?” he asked, his heart fluttering at the smile Nick was giving him.

  Nick definitely, truly, loved him back. There was no way to doubt it.

  “All of them,” Nick answered, winking. “And today is the anniversary of the day you moved in with me, so you definitely need a present.”

  “Did you get Jeremy one, Daddy?” Ava asked, clapping her hands with excitement. “I love presents!”

  “Of course I did,” Nick answered, his eyes sparkling.

  Jeremy tried not to smile. There was no need to encourage the man. But then again, there was also no stopping him. Besides, even though Jeremy typically had more self restraint than the other two people in the room when it came to holidays, he did love getting presents. Who wouldn’t? So there was really no point fighting it.

  “Okay, fine,” he said, holding out his hand. Feeling his heart swell with a love for the man in front of him that never seemed to do anything but grow. “Give me my present already.”

  Nick took Jeremy’s outstretched hand, kissing the Summer Triangle, then kept hold of it as he dropped to one knee.

  “Oh my God,” Jeremy said, sucking in a sharp breath.

  Really? His heart went from fluttering to frantic, trying to beat right out of his chest as a wave of delicious chills went through him. This was not happening.

  Nick opened his mouth.

  Jeremy slapped a hand over it, laughing.

  “No. Get up,” he said, tugging on Nick’s hand. “It’s my turn to go first.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow, grinning, but he obligingly stood up—giving Jeremy what he asked for, as always. “Whatever makes you happiest, Pumpkin.”

  You.

  Jeremy plucked Nick’s present out of Ava’s hand.

  “I thought you said he had to wait to open it until Christmas.” she said, tsking as she shook her head and gave Jeremy a stern look of admonishment.

  “Your daddy forced my hand,” Jeremy said, not able to bring himself to mind.

  This was really happening.

  “You’re going to let him open it early?” she asked, perking up. And when Jeremy nodded, she turned to Nick. “Can I help? Please, Daddy? Pleeeeeeease? I’m really good at unwrapping!”

  “Sure, Sprout,” Nick said, wrapping his arms around Jeremy’s waist without looking at her.

  She squealed, attacking the paper happily as Nick cupped Jeremy’s jaw, looking into his eyes. “I love you, J.”

  “Oooooh,” Ava said. “It’s a shiny ring!”

  “Marry me?” Jeremy asked, biting his lip to try and keep his smile at non-blinding levels.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Jeremy laughed, giving up on the non-blinding thing. “Is that a yes?”

  Nick smiled.

  Then Nick kissed him.

  Then, just like Jeremy had known he would, Nick said yes.

  An
d if Jeremy’s life had been a book, if it had been a storybook romance, that would have been the end. But it was real life, and so when Ava threw her arms around their waists and reminded Jeremy that he was supposed to make her chocolate-chip pancakes, they all trooped off to the kitchen. And Nick steamed him a mocha latte and Ava spilled syrup on the counter and Jeremy claimed that he’d intended that particular pancake to be in the shape of a shooting star, even though he knew they’d both seen him overpour the batter by accident and saw right through the lie.

  Still, they let him get away with it.

  Because they loved him.

  And he loved them right back.

  And Jeremy—who had always wanted a happy ending of his very own—decided that this was infinitely better. It was just the happy… without end.

  And it was perfect.

  ❦

  Thank you, Lovely Reader, for choosing to spend a few of your precious hours with the boys of the Delicious Series. In the second volume, you’ll find Jeremy and Nick’s wedding in the short novella I Do, as well as three more full length novels (Cash and Robbie in Again, Beck and Liam in Wrecked, and Jared and Tristan—whom you haven’t had a chance to meet yet!—in Promise.)

  Flip the page for a sneak peak at Again from The Delicious Series, the Second Volume.

  Sneak Peek: Again

  From The Delicious Series, the second volume

  “How do I fall out of love?”

  Cash Bennett enlisted in the Marines the day his boyfriend married someone else, but military life failed to numb the pain. Nothing can distract him from one inescapable truth, though: He lost his heart the first time he laid eyes on Robbie Logan, and he’s never going to get it back.

  An accident on Robin Logan’s eighteenth birthday changed his life. Now, Robbie doesn’t remember what the two of them once were to each other, and Cash can’t forget the way they’d been.

  Sometimes, though, life gives you a second chance to do it all over again…

  Three years ago

  August 11, 7:53 p.m.

  To: Robbie

  From: Cash

  Subject: jump week… finally

  shit, for something called “jump” school, they sure kept us on the ground for a long time. finally got to do our second jumps today, though. what a rush. free fall reminds me of how I used to feel every time you told me you loved me.

  jesus fuck, Robbie. hahaha! you were right, I am a fucking sap.

  another good reason not to use my military email to send this shit. I’d get pummeled if that came to light.

  well… they’d try, anyway ;-)

  (and, yeah, I can already hear you yelling at me about the f-bombs, but honestly, you have no idea how much I’m restraining myself here. I think becoming a jarhead may have permanently ruined any chance I have of meeting your clean language standards, babe.)

  but that free fall rush—honestly, I almost didn’t want to open the parachute. that jerk back to reality when it opens is fucking harsh, and then the slow glide down… gave me too much time to remember.

  I’d rather stick with the rush.

  1

  Cash

  “We should fuck if you’re going to make me undress, Beck,” Cash said, pulling his shirt over his head and refusing to wince when it stuck to the dried blood from the shredded skin on his shoulder.

  The pain was almost welcome, though. The adrenaline rush from his aborted BASE jump was already wearing off, which meant that he’d need something else to distract himself from the fact that it was Robbie’s birthday again. He knew that sex probably wasn’t in his immediate future—and, despite his tongue-in-cheek suggestion, definitely not with Beck—so pain would have to do.

  “There are better ways to remove tattoos than trying to scrape them off against the side of a building, you know,” Beck said, ignoring Cash’s comment. He applied something that stung like a bitch, then proceeded to test Cash’s commitment to appreciating the pain by using a hot poker disguised as an innocent-looking pair of tweezers to start digging out the debris.

  “Jesus fuck, Beck,” Cash hissed. “I take it back. I wouldn’t fuck you even if you begged me after this motherfucking torture.”

  Beck’s lip quirked up, but he didn’t stop. Asshole. “You sure you don’t want me to take you in to the emergency room, bro? This is kind of deep.”

  “No,” Cash said, gritting his teeth. No way was he wasting time at a hospital for a little road rash. “Besides, you’re a doctor.”

  “A physical therapist isn’t a medical doctor,” Beck said, still not letting up with the application of excruciating pain.

  Did the man have to be a perfectionist at everything? Leaving a little grit in wasn’t going to make Cash’s arm fall off.

  “And it’s a fluke I was even home today,” Beck continued calmly. “Seriously, the way you’re holding your ribs, you might want to get some x-rays.”

  “Whatever,” Cash said, using the word to disguise the loud whoosh as he let out the breath he’d been holding to keep from accidentally calling Beck names that the man didn’t deserve.

  Without the cushion of adrenaline, whatever Beck had been doing had fucking hurt. His overly patient friend had finally finished cleaning the wound, though. Well, either that, or he’d decided just to give up on it completely. And honestly, either way was fine with Cash at this point. He was just glad Beck had quit with playing sadist and decided to tape a bandage over the damage. As far as Cash was concerned, “out of sight, out of mind” was a great coping mechanism for anything painful.

  “You need me to drive you in?” Beck asked, stepping back to eye his handiwork with a look of concern.

  “Nah,” Cash said. “My ribs are fine. And besides, you’re good at fixing people.”

  Cash rotated his shoulder, looking down at the neat, white bandage. Still hurt like hell, but not anything he couldn’t live with. If only fixing the rest of him could be handled as easily. But the parts of Cash that were broken—well, just one part, really—didn’t seem to be fixable.

  Just like his shoulder, he could ignore the pain of losing Robbie—even function with it—but after seven long years, it had yet to go away. His heart was like a broken record, stuck in a groove that just kept playing the same damn song over and over and fucking over again, until sometimes he thought his head might explode if he didn’t find a way to drown out the noise. Other people seemed capable of moving the fuck on, but Cash was either too stubborn or too stupid to know how to let go.

  Relentless, a drill sergeant had called him, meaning it as a compliment.

  Cash didn’t know the meaning of the word quit, and while it had served him during his time in the Marines, when it came to love—and yeah, for all that Cash didn’t look or play the part, he was a fucking sap deep down where it counted—that particular quality had ended up pretty much destroying his chances for any kind of romantic happiness. Cash had messed around with boys before meeting Robbie, and God knows he’d fucked enough of them since, but he’d known from the first time Robbie had looked at him that when it came to his heart, Robbie was it for him.

  At the time, he’d thought losing his heart was a good thing.

  It hadn’t mattered that they’d both just been kids, or that Robbie had been too scared of his father to consider coming out, or that they’d had to sneak around once Robbie had finally found the courage to say yes to Cash. Every day they’d spent together had only confirmed what Cash had known from the beginning: Falling in love for him was an all-or-nothing proposition. His heart was exactly like one of those old vinyl records his father collected; it couldn’t be erased or recorded over, it could only play that one piece of music that had been pressed into it, forever.

  Which would have been fine with Cash—perfect, actually—if Robbie’s accident hadn’t made his one-and-done love song suddenly jump track from “Everlasting Love” to “Never Gonna Get It.”

  Beck turned away to rummage through his medicine
cabinet to find Cash something for the pain, and Cash’s eyes strayed to the screen of his phone, dark and silent where he’d tossed it on the counter next to the bathroom sink. Waiting for a reply was pointless, though. Not that Robbie wouldn’t reply to his Happy Birthday text. Of course he would. They were friends, after all. But hearing back from him wasn’t going to do anything except taunt Cash with another reminder of what he couldn’t have.

  He huffed out a breath, telling himself not to be so fucking selfish. It wasn’t just about him. Stubbornly stupid or not, he’d always care about Robbie, and wishing him a happy birthday was what a friend did.

  At least, that was one of the ways he justified his inability to make a clean break. Not that he hadn’t thought about it a time or two… thousand, but the thought of having no contact at all just about killed him. Although fucking Christ, some days he wasn’t sure if maintaining their “friendship” wasn’t doing exactly that. If maybe he shouldn’t have walked away seven years ago when Robbie had first opened his eyes and looked at Cash as if he didn’t know who the hell he was.

  Actually, Robbie’s father had made sure that he had walked away, hadn’t he?

  Cash just hadn’t been capable of staying away.

  Not then, and not now. No matter how hard he tried, or how much it hurt to keep circling around the periphery of Robbie’s life when he would never again be the center of it. Jesus. Maybe he should blow off his dinner plans with his cousin Jeremy and go find someone-who-wasn’t-Robbie to fuck after all. It was his tried-and-true method of distracting himself so he didn’t get sucked into exactly the kind of emotional quicksand that Robbie’s birthday inevitably brought up.