Devon Cream

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Devon Cream Page 7

by Jet Mykles


  Larry was hell on wheels. Within another week, he’d convinced Steven to quit his day job and focus on the restaurant. With his own savings, Steven could live like that for a few months, and Larry swore the new place would open before then. But Talon took Steven’s two-week notice, which meant that Steven had that time to continue doing two jobs.

  Devon and Patty proved to be the good friends he knew they were. When told, they were nothing but happy and supportive. Both offered—demanded, actually—to take over dinner duties during that time. They even took to buying pastries and muffins to leave for him to have in the mornings. They ran through the dishes Devon knew how to cook by the end of first week, but with Steven’s cookbooks and Patty’s knowledge, they managed just fine. Steven helped where he could and where they’d let him.

  He couldn’t have survived it without them.

  It was the Sunday of his first weekend free from his previous job, and he was back in his kitchen trying his hand at a jambalaya recipe he was considering for the restaurant. Now that he had some breathing room, he decided it was time to confront Patty about something that had been bothering him for a few days. “You know, I appreciate all your help, but it wasn’t necessary to do my laundry, much less put it away.”

  She looked up from the shrimp she was shelling and frowned. “Laundry?”

  “It was nice of you, but I was going to do it.”

  She cocked her head to the side, eyeing him. “It wasn’t me.”

  He stared at her. It had taken him a while during the hectic days to realize that someone had been doing more than just dinner. His bed was made when he got home, and he knew he’d been too tired to do it. His bathroom counters were wiped down. He was pretty sure someone had vacuumed at least once. When his dirty laundry disappeared one night, only to be found in his drawers—some of it in the wrong drawers, but still clean—he’d finally been certain.

  “If not you, who?” He blinked at her, shaking his head. “No.”

  She smiled happily. “Isn’t he a doll? Buying groceries, doing housework, doing laundry.”

  Steven bent his head over the sausage he was slicing. “Oh, now he’s a doll?” He frowned, thrown. “What do you mean, buying groceries? Haven’t you been doing that?”

  She cackled merrily. “Not all of them. Devon insisted on buying some nights, and the breakfast goodies were all him.”

  Steven gaped.

  She hummed, attention back on her shrimp. “I’ve discovered that other than mooching off you, he’s a perfectly lovely boy, and he hasn’t been mooching at all lately.” She sighed. “If he would only admit that he’s gay.”

  “Oh, now you insist that he’s gay?”

  Still with that maddening grin. “I do.”

  “And what has convinced you of this, all of a sudden? You’ve been warning me off him because he’s straight.”

  She held up a finger. “Correction: I’ve been warning you off him because he thinks he’s straight. But you haven’t seen the way he’s been watching you lately.”

  For the first time in years, Steven fumbled a knife and nearly sliced his thumb. “What?”

  “Mmm-hmmm.” She sounded too smug. “He’s been watching you very closely the past week or so. If he really did your laundry....”

  Steven shook his head, attacking the sausage. A curious warmth spread through his chest, making breathing a little difficult. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why not?”

  “He just...shouldn’t.”

  The soft crackling sound of shrimp shells ceased. “Steven?”

  “What?”

  “Did something happen between you two?”

  The question was asked in a light, innocent tone, which he mimicked when answering. “Why would you think that?”

  “Oh, little things he’s said. Some things he’s asked. The way you go out of your way not to touch him these days.”

  “I don’t—Wait.” He glanced over his shoulder. “What’s he asked?”

  Her smile was pure evil as she attacked a wet, gray crustacean corpse. “He asked me about your past relationships.”

  “My what?”

  “Your boyfriends. How long they lasted. What they were like. What they looked like.” A pointed look. “Whether any of them were straight.”

  “He did?”

  “He did.” She dropped her latest victim in the bowl before her and grabbed a dishtowel sitting on the counter. “Why would he ask those things?”

  He turned back to his sausage, only to find it all done. “Beats me.” He reached into the sink for one of the rinsed chicken breasts waiting for him. He wanted very badly to know what she’d told Devon, but he knew it was important not to put too much into the conversation or she’d get suspicious.

  “Steven.”

  “What?” He saw her prop her hip on the counter beside him, but he kept his attention on the chicken as he sliced it. Shit, she’s already suspicious.

  “Look at me.”

  “No.”

  “Steven.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You’re blushing.”

  “I am not.”

  “You are. What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re lying.”

  He slammed the knife down on the chopping board, keeping his palm over the handle so it wouldn’t fly away. “Damn it.”

  “Did you kiss him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anything more?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “No!” She whooped. “Oh, my god! And you didn’t tell me?! When was this?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, resigned. “The night you met Larry.”

  “That long?!” She slapped the back of his shoulder. “You’re a bastard for not telling me!”

  “It was a one-time thing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Nothing has happened since.”

  “Mmm, and you’ve been super busy. Avoiding much?”

  “Bite me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. How did you two leave it?”

  “Huh?”

  “I know you too well. What did you tell him afterward?”

  He picked up the knife and applied it to the cold, damp chicken flesh. “I told him thank you but we should go back to what we were.”

  “Thank you?!” She huffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, man, that’s a new low, even for you.”

  “What?”

  “Why would you say a fool thing like that?”

  “He’s straight.”

  Harrumphing, she crossed her arms. “Am I making the correct assumption that cock entered ass on this night in question?”

  He glared at her.

  She nodded. “Can I ask whose was which?”

  “No, you may not.”

  She sighed. “Regardless, he slept with you. Why would you pull the straight card?”

  “I’ve done that once.”

  Her voice got soft. “He’s not Ronald.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s far more honest and kind than Ronald. I wasn’t going to let him turn....” He scowled, shaking his head. “He was curious, okay? Plain and simple. He knew I was attracted to him and figured he’d make me feel good out of gratitude for taking care of him. You said yourself that I’ve been mother hen-ing him.”

  “People don’t tend to give themselves like that out of gratitude.”

  “What world do you live in?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Obviously a far more romantic one than you do.”

  “Exactly.” He finished the chicken breast and reached for another. “I’ve had enough of romance and lived through the heartache that goes with it. I’m not willing to go through that with Devon.”

  When she said nothing, he peeked up at her. Her speculative look didn’t bode well. “What?”

  “You really care about him.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “No. I think you’re in love with him.”


  She always had been far too perceptive about his emotions. “Don’t be silly.”

  “No, really. I haven’t ever seen you like this. I mean, you’re a wonderful, sweet man, but I’ve never seen you put someone else before you so much.”

  Angrily, he demolished chicken flesh. “He’s a lost puppy dog, and he needs someone to take care of him.”

  “Who knew that’s what got you hot?”

  He certainly hadn’t, and he had no response for her.

  She watched him finish the chicken, then take all of the meat to the counter by the stove. “Where’s Devon with the olive oil?” he muttered, realizing he was stalled until Devon got back.

  “Are you going to talk to him?”

  “No.”

  “Steven....”

  “Patty, let it rest.”

  “But—”

  He banged the skillet atop the unlit burner. “Stop. Would you please finish the shrimp?”

  “Okay.”

  Muttering slightly, he puttered around the kitchen, at a loss what to do.

  Devon opened the front door a short time later. Unfortunately, Steven had worked himself into enough of a dither that he confronted the younger man immediately from the open threshold of the kitchen.

  “Did you do my laundry?” God, was he pointing? Hastily, he lowered his hand, but Devon’s surprised gaze tracked it.

  Halfway across the living room, Devon stood frozen, grocery bags swinging from his hands as he gave Steven a wary stare. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “It was piling up, and I didn’t think you’d have time to do it.”

  Aware he was overreacting, but unable to help it, Steven crossed his arms, tucking shaking hands into the bend of each elbow. “Thank you, but I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “I know.” Devon cocked his head a little to the side, soft chestnut hair caressing his cheek. “I’m sorry?”

  Steven stopped his foot from tapping. “You don’t have to do things for me.”

  “I know.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know that, but you’ve been busy—”

  “Even then!”

  Devon frowned over Steven’s shoulder, clearly exchanging a glance with Patty, but his attention turned quickly back to Steven. “You’ve been busy and stressed. I was just trying to help you.” His reasonable, talk-softly-to-the-crazy-man tone annoyed Steven more.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to.”

  “To pay me back for helping you?”

  Devon heaved a small sigh. “Okay, if that’s how you want to think about it.”

  The sigh took Steven aback. “What do you mean by that?”

  Devon shrugged. “You want everything to be about me paying you back.”

  “What?”

  Devon closed the distance between them, putting the plastic grocery bags on the counter beside Steven. “Here. Olive oil, butter, milk, wine, and those crazy fruit juices you like so much.”

  Steven glared at the bags. “That’s more than what I asked for.”

  “I know.”

  He started to edge around Devon into the main room, heading for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

  Devon’s arm shot out, blocking him in the kitchen. “Nothing.”

  Steven backed up a step from Devon’s very tall, very potent presence. “Devon—”

  “Steven, shut up! I’m sorry I did your laundry, okay?” He spread his palms on either side of the open kitchen entrance, filling the space. He’d never worn such a frown before, certainly not aimed at Steven. “I’m sorry for trying to help you when you’ve got a lot on your mind. I’m sorry for cooking for you and for filling your car with gas—”

  Steven blinked. He hadn’t known about that one.

  “—and for trying to take care of you, but just deal with it, okay? I’m going to do it anyway.”

  Steven glared, ignoring the furious beat of his heart as the determined younger man stared him down. “Devon, you don’t need to do these things just because you feel a sense of....”

  Devon stepped closer to Steven, towering over him. “Because what? Because you helped me out? Because you’ve looked out for me? Guess what? That’s not why I did it.” Devon’s deep brown gaze burned with intensity as it flitted from Steven’s eyes to his lips, then back.

  Hands now on his hips, Steven didn’t give any more ground, even if he did have to tilt his head way back to keep looking at Devon’s face. He was aware that Patty remained behind him, no doubt eating this up, but he couldn’t spare her more than a fleeting thought at the moment. “Don’t tell me that you did it because you like me, because—”

  Devon’s hands dropped from the doorway as he took the step that separated them. “I didn’t.” Devon reached up to firmly grip Steven’s jaw. “I did it because I love you.”

  Even half expecting it, Steven couldn’t stop himself from enjoying the softness of Devon’s lips or the fragrance of his skin. But he didn’t allow himself to enjoy it long. He planted his palms on Devon’s chest—a nice, firm chest underneath that tank top—and pushed out of the kiss. “Stop that.”

  Devon didn’t step back, so Steven had to.

  The taller man stayed put, glaring down at Steven. “Why?”

  Steven found his fingers at his lips and snatched them away. “You’re straight.”

  Devon threw his hands out, palms up. “You keep going back to that.”

  “I’m sorry? Isn’t that the point?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Explain.”

  “I will.” Devon took a breath. “Where I grew up, you just couldn’t be gay. It wasn’t even something I considered. If I had, the guys I hung out with would have laughed or beat me up. My dad....” He shook his head sadly. “My dad’s going to freak.” He shrugged it off. “Yes, I dated girls. All through college, even. It was nice, but I never met any I wanted to stay with. We were always better friends. I had sex, but it wasn’t nearly what we—” He glanced behind Steven.

  Aware Patty was probably holding her breath, Steven waved a hand. “She knows.” His voice caught on the lump in his throat, and he tried to surreptitiously clear it.

  Devon nodded, then returned his attention to Steven. A wealth of emotion poured out of his eyes. “What we did...that goes beyond anything I ever felt before. And it’s not just the sex. That was great but... I like spending time with you, Steven. I like taking care of you. I like when you take care of me.” He gave a small laugh. “My mom wouldn’t even recognize me these past weeks. I barely do my own laundry, much less someone else’s. But I really liked knowing I was helping you.”

  Devon’s little smile was infectious, and Steven had to respond with one of his own, if only briefly. Glancing down and to the side, he regarded Patty out of the corner of his eye. “Have you seen enough?”

  A soft whine behind him. “One more kiss?”

  He grimaced. “Maybe later.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right.” She brushed past him, patting his shoulder affectionately. “You owe me.” Stopping before Devon, she reached up to caress his cheek briefly before she left quietly.

  Neither man moved, even after the front door clicked shut. Steven stared at the floor, trying to breathe over a wildly fluttering heart. The hum of the refrigerator was loud, and he heard a car pass by on the street outside. Taking a deep breath, he finally pulled his gaze up to meet Devon’s. “This is a big step.”

  Did Devon know he was shifting minutely from foot to foot, looking for all the world like a frisky yearling at the starting gate? “I know.”

  “I don’t want to be accused of ruining your life.”

  Devon shook his head. “You’ve made it better.”

  He couldn’t look into that earnest face. “You say that now.”

  Devon took a step toward him. Steven stared at the ratty Converse on his feet, but didn’t back away. Devon obviously took this as a sign and closed the distance between t
hem again. He reached up to cup the curve of Steven’s shoulders in gentle hands. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, Steven. I’m happy when I’m with you. I’m comfortable with you. Isn’t that love?”

  Groaning softly, Steven let his head fall forward until his forehead bumped Devon’s chest. Oh, to be that young and that sure of himself. Strong arms slid around his shoulders, gathering him more firmly into Devon-space. He had to turn his head to keep breathing and ended up with his nose pressed into the curve of Devon’s neck. He could see the flutter of the fragile skin just underneath Devon’s jaw. His arms lifted automatically to circle the other man’s waist. Devon just held him, one hand rubbing his back while the fingers of the other combed through his hair. It was ridiculously comforting.

  “I’m too old for you,” Steven murmured, locking his hands together at the small of Devon’s back.

  A slightly stubbled cheek gently rubbed his temple. “You’re not old.”

  “You’ll wear me out.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m an anal neat freak.”

  “I noticed. But you cook real good, so that’s okay.”

  Laughing, he squeezed Devon tighter. “Your parents will freak.”

  “Yeah, well, they will or they won’t. I don’t care.” Devon squeezed back. “If I’ve got you, that’s all that counts.”

  “God! Stop saying all the right things. I can’t think straight.”

  Laughing softly, Devon bent in to kiss his cheek. “Don’t think so much.”

  “That’s my line.”

  Lips at the corner of his mouth. “I know. Kiss me, Steven?”

  Such a soft, plaintive plea. How could he resist his puppy dog? Closing his eyes, he turned his head into the proper tilt for Devon’s lips to cover his own. So sweet, so warm. So very necessary. Impatient need burbled up inside him, the stress and hassle of the last few weeks and the suppressed desire for this man boiling over to introduce keen, white-hot passion. He clutched at the back of Devon’s tank top, trying to pull every inch of himself inside Devon’s warmth.

  Devon barely managed to extricate himself from the kiss. “Steven,” he whispered.

  Steven recaptured the kiss. “Mmm?”

  Fingers stroked his jaw, holding him back so Devon could speak again. “Can we have sex now?”

  Taken aback by the simple question, Steven felt his jaw drop. He couldn’t help but grin at the barely contained wolf gazing down at him. “Is that all you want me for? My body?”

 

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