by K. C. Wells
Brady wished it was warm enough to take off his shoes and feel the sand between his toes. “Hmm?”
Jordan snickered. “Maybe talking wasn’t such a good idea out here. The ocean is proving to be too much of a distraction.”
Brady whacked him on the arm. “I’m listening. You said something about change?”
“I thought we might move your desk into my office. If we’re going to work together, that makes sense.”
Brady smiled. “Let’s wait until you’ve conducted the interviews, okay? That would be better.” He let out a sigh. “Besides, I really don’t want to think about work now, not when we have all this.” He gestured to the ocean. “I have a better idea. Let’s go back to the resort, order some hot chocolate, then sit by that fire pit we passed.”
“Or we could sit on the couch in our room,” Jordan suggested.
“That has certain advantages the beach does not have.” Brady grinned. “Like the fact that clothing would be optional.” He wasn’t about to share the image in his head right then—Jordan standing naked in front of the window, his arms braced, while Brady was—
Jordan took his hand, did a one-eighty, and led him back to the resort.
It seemed Jordan wasn’t the only one who had bright ideas.
“WHEN did you know?” Brady asked sleepily, his head on Jordan’s chest, the soft sheets covering the swell of his ass. The temperature in their room was just right.
Jordan stroked up and down Brady’s bare back in a languid motion. “Know what?”
“That you loved me?”
Jordan considered the question. “Maybe when we first arrived here on Friday. Up until then, I’d been attracted to you, but I think it was that moment when I first realized I wanted it to be real.”
“Real?” Brady raised his head and peered at him.
Jordan stroked his fingers along Brady’s jaw. “Not a pretend boyfriend.” He shook his head. “All that trouble we went to, buying you new clothes so you’d feel comfortable here, so you’d look the part, and you know what? I just wanted to tell you that you’re perfect whatever you wear. Because it wasn’t what was on the outside that mattered. It was the man underneath who stole my heart.”
Brady’s breathing hitched. “That might be one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me. And just for the record?” Brady gazed into Jordan’s eyes. “I wanted it to be real too.”
Jordan tugged him until he straddled Jordan’s waist. He pulled Brady down into a kiss, not really surprised when the air between them crackled with sexual electricity, and heat surged through him.
Making love to the sound of the ocean—a joyful, sensual experience that would be forever burned into his memory.
BRADY hadn’t been remotely surprised when, after breakfast, Jordan expressed interest in going for a walk. It seemed neither of them was in any hurry to return to real life. He drove them to Lake Montauk, and they strolled along the shoreline, listening to the cries of the birds circling high above them, the waves lapping over rocks, or the soft chug of boat engines.
He’d never seen so many boats. Everywhere Brady looked, there were fishing vessels of all descriptions. He stared at the impressive yacht clubs and sailing clubs that were located around the lake. Jordan took his hand as they walked past Star Island, heading to the north of Montauk. And when they finally left the water’s edge and strolled along Soundview Drive, Brady enjoyed looking at the pretty homes along the waterfront. He and Jordan tried to put a price tag on some of them but gave up when they realized the starting price would have been at least a million dollars for each one.
“What would we do with four bedrooms and four bathrooms anyway?” Brady reasoned.
Jordan laughed. “Nothing, unless you’ve changed your mind about children.”
Brady snickered. “That would be a no.” They turned left to walk along a residential street, lined with the same immaculate houses, that—
He came to a dead stop, staring at one particular property, just visible above the treetops. “Jordan,” he whispered.
Jordan came to a halt beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“That house.” There was nothing special about it. Its exterior walls were covered in a tired, sun-bleached pale wood, a two-story house with an upper balcony that ran along two sides, a wooden staircase descending from it. Yet Brady couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“What about it?”
Brady pointed to the signpost at the edge of the street. “It’s for sale, that’s what.” He grinned.
Jordan gaped at him. “That? It’s a fixer-upper.”
Brady nodded, still grinning. “All it needs is some TLC. But think about it. It’s right by the water. By the ocean. It’s perfect.”
Jordan chuckled. “You must see something that I don’t.”
Brady got out his phone and tapped in the number of the realtor.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Getting some more details about the property.” Brady had no clue why the house had made such an impression. He only knew he wanted to learn more about it. The house didn’t have the same feel as the other swanky properties in the street. Maybe that was it.
It needs a makeover. The thought made him smile.
Then he realized his mind had gone off on a tangent. Brady returned his attention to his phone, but stopped when he heard Jordan speaking.
“Hi, is this Michael Darby? My name’s Jordan Wolf. I’m interested in a property you have listed on Duryea Avenue, Montauk. … Yes, that’s the one. What can you tell me about it?”
Brady stared at him, openmouthed, his phone still in his hand. When Jordan finished the call, Brady put his hands on his hips. “I’m not capable of talking to a real estate agent?”
Jordan smirked. “You got… distracted. I stepped in. So, do you want to know about the house or not?”
Brady rolled his eyes. “Duh.”
Jordan counted off on his fingers. “Three beds, one bath, built in the seventies, with approval already granted for a pool.” He pointed to the sandy lot in front of the house. “There, specifically. It has no AC, it needs renovating… and it’s less than I thought it might be.”
That last part filled Brady with hope. “Does that mean we could afford it?”
Jordan laughed. “Yes—we could afford it. If we so desired.”
“So…?”
Jordan shook his head and sighed. He got on his phone again. “Mr. Darby? Hi. Jordan Wolf again. Do you think you might be able to show the property to myself and my partner this morning? … Perfect. … See you in half an hour. Thanks.” He disconnected the call and peered at Brady. “Happy now?”
Brady launched himself into Jordan’s arms. “Yes!” He kissed him exuberantly on the mouth.
Jordan started laughing. “Hey, don’t go scaring the nice people around here who might end up being our neighbors.”
Brady snorted. “Think of it as giving them a heads-up.”
IN the back of the car, Brady leaned against Jordan, the lights of New York City speeding past, almost in a blur. By the time they’d reached Manhattan, rain had begun to fall, and the streaked car windows did little to lift his mood. Their idyllic weekend was finally at an end, and as they drew closer to Harlem, his heart sank further and further.
Jordan clasped his hand. “Nearly there.”
“Sure.” They were only a few blocks from his apartment.
“So, when we get there, I’m giving you ten minutes max to get in, grab what you need for tomorrow, then get out.”
“Huh?”
Jordan smiled. “I thought you might like to stay with me tonight. Unless you really do want to go home and sleep in your own bed?”
Brady laughed. “You know, for an intelligent man, sometimes you say the dumbest things.” He squeezed Jordan’s fingers. “Of course I want to stay with you tonight. I want to stay for as many nights as you’re willing to put up with me.”
Jordan leaned over and kissed him. “In that case, we’d bet
ter organize a U-Haul for next weekend.” The car came to a stop. “Remember. You have ten minutes. Because when we get back to my place—our place—we have a lot to talk about.” He shook his head. “One minute we’re going for a nice walk around a lake. The next, we’re buying a house in Montauk.”
Brady regarded him closely. “Regrets?”
Jordan kissed him again. “None whatsoever. Now move your ass.” He leaned forward to ask the driver to pop the trunk.
Brady climbed out of the car, collected his bag, and sprinted up the steps to his front door, not bothered by the rain.
He was too busy thinking about his new life that was just beginning.
Epilogue
One year later
BRADY closed his desk drawer with a satisfied sigh.
Jordan snickered. “You are such a neat freak, you know.”
Brady gave a gasp of mock hurt. “Just because some of us like to leave a desk neat and tidy.” He glanced across at Jordan’s, noting the piles of folders, and wagged his finger. “You’re not going to leave it like that, are you?” He grinned, awaiting the backlash.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Jordan glared at him. “Once. I let it get untidy once and you—”
The door opened and Kelly entered, her tablet in her hand. She narrowed her gaze. “Mr. Wolf, you should take a leaf out of Mr. Donovan’s book. A cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind.”
“But I—” Jordan bit his lip, and Brady tried not to laugh. Then Jordan gave him a sideways look before muttering, “Then what is an empty desk a sign of?”
Brady fired him a warning glance before giving Kelly his full attention. “Now, you have all the notes for tomorrow and Monday, right?”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “You’re only going to be out of the office for two days. I think we can cope. And yes, I’ve already emailed the heads of department, posted the schedules, and listed the meeting for when you get back.” She grinned. “The company will still be in one piece when you return on Tuesday.”
Brady blinked and stared at Jordan. “When I was your PA, was I this….”
“Efficient?” Kelly offered, her eyes wide.
“Not quite the word I had in mind,” Brady muttered.
Jordan laughed. “It’s a good thing Kelly is used to our little ways.”
“She just likes poking me, don’t you, Kelly?” Brady gave her a mock glare.
Kelly smiled sweetly. “Of course. How else do you expect me to get my shits and giggles?”
The fact that she felt comfortable speaking to them in such a way said a lot about their working relationship.
“And don’t listen to him, Kelly,” Jordan said soothingly. “I appreciate you.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. Only because I buy your favorite coffee and sneak in snacks for you when Mr. Donovan isn’t looking.” She covered her lips with her hand. “Oops.”
Brady nodded slowly. “Snacks. Now I get it. Now it all makes sense. ‘Kelly’s a treasure, Brady.’ ‘She’s a wonderful assistant, Brady,’” he mimicked before giving Jordan a hard stare. “Snacks?”
“My homemade vegan cookies,” Kelly offered. “Healthy recipe, honest.” Her perpetual smile faltered. “I wouldn’t give Mr. Wolf anything that’s bad for him.” She huffed. “Now, please, you two. Get out of here, go home, and have a wonderful anniversary weekend.”
Jordan gaped. “How did you know it’s our anniversary?”
Kelly gave another superior eye-roll. “Duh.” She pointed to Jordan’s desk calendar, where the date had been circled in red, and the word ANNIVERSARY! written. Kelly’s grin was back. “Gee, I wonder whatever gave me that idea.” She turned and marched out of the room, humming to herself.
Brady chuckled. “I think the company is in safe hands. I thought I was organized until we took on Kelly.” Of all the applicants for the position, she’d shone at the interview.
Jordan snickered. “Yes, but you didn’t poke me as much as she does.” Then he tilted his head. “Well, maybe less in the beginning. You got more pokes in later.” His eyes twinkled.
Brady walked around the desk to where Jordan sat, hands outstretched menacingly. “If it’s poking you want….”
Jordan launched himself out of his chair, laughing. “Grab your jacket and let’s do as she says. We have four whole days together in our favorite place in all the world.”
That brought an end to anything Brady might have had in mind. “Now you’re talking.”
Four days in Montauk. And the chance to celebrate their one-year anniversary in the place where their life as a couple began.
Bliss.
There was a knock at the door, and Kelly poked her head around it. “Do you have a moment before you leave?”
“Sure.” Jordan slung his bag over his shoulder.
The door opened, and Brady stilled at the sight of four of the department heads, all smiling.
“We wanted to catch you both before you left.” Dan Fremont held out a long bag to Brady. “This is from all of us. Just a little something to get your celebrations off to a good start.”
Brady took it and peered inside. “Aw, champagne. Thank you, but you didn’t have to do this!” He showed it to Jordan.
“It only seems fair,” Dan commented. “When Celia and her husband celebrated their wedding anniversary last month, you two sent them some beautiful flowers and a great bottle of wine. We thought you deserved something similar.” He smiled. “You make a good team.” There were murmurs of approval from the others. “So enjoy your weekend, and we’ll see you Tuesday morning.”
“Unless we suddenly get a phone call to say you’re staying a little longer,” Kelly added, her eyes sparkling. “Which, frankly, wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest, knowing you two.”
Jordan’s gaze met Brady’s, and Brady could see the emotion he struggled to hide. “Thank you, all of you. We didn’t expect this.”
Brady nodded in agreement. “And we will be here Tuesday.” He gave Kelly another mock glare, daring her to comment, but she merely gave him a sweet smile and ushered the staff from the office.
Once the door had closed behind them, Jordan took Brady in his arms. “It has been a good year, hasn’t it?”
Brady had to admit, Jordan had been correct. No one had batted an eyelid at the change in circumstances. In fact, they’d received so many cards congratulating them that he’d been overwhelmed. And once he’d taken up his new position, the transition had gone without a single hiccup.
“Dan’s right, you know. We do make a good team.”
Jordan kissed him lightly on the mouth. “We always did.”
Truth.
JORDAN closed the trunk and slung their bag over his shoulder. Brady was already climbing the stairs, two at a time. Jordan had to smile at his eagerness. Every chance they got, he and Brady would drive to the house that had become their safe haven. All of the renovations had been completed by the end of spring, and that had resulted in quite a few shopping trips for furniture and fittings. Jordan loved the peace and quiet of Montauk, but better than that were the opportunities to share quality time together, with none of the distractions of home.
By the time he reached the door, Brady had already set up the coffee machine and was busy putting away the groceries they’d bought on the way. That was their habit—to ensure the refrigerator and cabinets were well-stocked so they didn’t have to waste a moment going shopping.
Jordan closed the door behind him, and suddenly his arms were full of Brady, kissing him on the lips and cheeks, arms locked around his neck.
“I thought today would never get here,” Brady said with a sigh. “I kept pulling out my phone and staring at the photos of the house and the beach, wishing it was Friday already.”
Jordan chuckled. “Like I didn’t notice. And I wasn’t the only one. Kelly would smirk every time your phone came out.”
Brady glanced around them. “Just think. It was a year ago this weekend that we saw this place f
or the first time.”
Jordan chuckled. “Mm-hmm. A year since you saw this place and got hit by a thunderbolt.”
Brady laughed. “That was you on the phone, wasn’t it, calling for details? I don’t recall having to twist your arm.” His nimble fingers found Jordan’s ribs. “Come on, confess. You loved it from the first moment you saw inside it.”
Jordan grabbed Brady’s wrists. “Okay, okay, I confess! Now stop with the tickling.” He planted a kiss on the end of Brady’s nose. “So, what would you like to do? The rest of the day is ours.” Their alarm had gone off at the crack of dawn, and they’d been out of Manhattan before nine.
Brady grinned, took Jordan’s hand, and led him toward their bedroom.
It didn’t take a genius to work out what activity he had in mind. Not that it hadn’t also been in Jordan’s mind too.
Thank God they were no longer buying shares in the condom companies.
“BRADY. Brady!”
He stirred beneath the sheet, then reached for Jordan, spooning around him. “Hmm?” Brady ran his hand over Jordan’s hip, caressing it. “Why do you always feel so good in this bed?” It was always the same. At home, he was up with the dawn. By the ocean, he could spend hours in bed with Jordan, until they absolutely had to get up.
Jordan snickered. “I’d feel good to you in any bed. Or on the couch. On the rug. There was also that time on the kitchen ta—” He yelped when Brady tickled his ribs. “Hey! I was just saying. And I woke you up because you don’t really want to lose the day, right? I thought we’d go for a walk on the beach after lunch.”
Brady liked that idea.
“And….” Jordan rolled over. “We’ve just had a text from Belinda. She and Drake want us to meet them for a drink tonight, at Gurney’s.”