by Lucy Lennox
The fling argument was made in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Iggy’s while the foolish warning was spoken in the voice of my father.
Both voices fell silent when I saw Felix approach the kitchen. He was wide-eyed and clearly nervous. He walked into the space as if ready to ask permission simply to exist in this world. Something about him made me want to kiss his vulnerability right off his cute fucking face. I wanted to hand him the keys to the kingdom—to tell him it was my house and he was as welcome in it as anyone.
But of course, I didn’t.
“Hey,” I said, low enough to avoid startling him. “Here comes Trouble.”
He smiled shyly.
“Hey. I… um, is this okay?” He gestured to the thick dark sweater he wore, gray wool trousers, a heavy dress coat, a gray-and-black striped scarf hanging loose over his coat’s lapels, and a hot-pink beanie perched on his head.
“Your hat is pink,” I said, feeling my heartbeat speed up at the incongruous color topping an outfit of black and gray.
Felix’s face began to match his hat. “My grandfather made it for me. His color choice was… let’s just say, he was trying to make a point.”
I strode closer to him and reached out to wrap his scarf properly around his throat.
“And what point was that?” I felt him shudder at the sound of my voice and wondered if I’d be able to walk to the door with a semihard cock.
“Real men wear pink,” he said in a small voice.
“They do, indeed. Had you not known that before the hat?”
“No, I… I just prefer to keep a lower profile. You know, stay out of the way and try not to attract attention.”
After reaching out to tuck the ends of the scarf into his coat collar, I kept my hands on the lapels. “Felix, no matter how hard you try, there’s no way you’d ever fly under the radar. Nor should you. You’re stunningly beautiful. Even in a bright pink hat. Especially in a bright pink hat.”
His eyes darted to the ground behind the dark frames of his glasses. “Well, thanks. But I don’t feel comfortable when people notice me.”
“Why not?”
His eyes flicked back up to me accompanied by a hint of a smirk. “Because then they flirt, and then I try to flirt back and end up saying stupid shit.”
I barked out a laugh. “You weren’t wrong earlier. I do have some beautiful wood. In fact, I’d be happy to show it to you later.”
Felix groaned and stepped back, forcing me to let go of his coat as we shared a laugh. I was happy to see him able to take my ribbing and even caught him shooting me a teasing glare in return.
“I hope you like stocafi,” I said, picking up the picnic hamper Mari had prepared for me.
“I hope I do too,” he said. “What is it?”
I gave him an exaggerated expression of shock. “You’ve never had it? How have you lived? It’s the principal dish of Monaco.”
His grin was devilish. “I guess I’ve been too busy living off the principal dish of Texas.”
“Beer and peanuts?” I winked at him and gestured for him to follow me to the door.
Felix chuckled. “Close. It’s chili. My grandfather has spent the past couple of months torturing us with different recipes. He tried to win a chili cook-off.”
“You talk about him a lot. He must be a good man.”
I led him outside to where Bert had left the utility vehicle for me. Jon sat in the back seat despite my refusal to have him join us.
“Get out,” I grumbled to him.
“No, sir…reee Bob,” he replied, catching himself but sounding like a fool in the process. “I’m coming with you to see the ah… sights.”
Felix looked at me in confusion.
I cleared my throat. “Felix, this is Jon. My… friend. He’s…” I felt my teeth clench instead of growling like I really wanted to do. “He’s a little needy. Doesn’t like to be alone.”
Jon scoffed and looked away, mumbling.
Felix shifted uneasily on his feet. “That’s fine. I don’t mind. The more the merrier, I guess?”
He was obviously trying to be polite to put Jon and me at ease.
Before turning on the utility vehicle, I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Thank you for understanding.”
As we made our way along the gravel paths toward our destination, I noticed Felix looking out to sea. Darkness had come hours before, but the moon was bright on the choppy water.
Once we pulled up to the old stone structure perched on a small cliff overlooking the sea, Felix turned to me with excitement dancing in his eyes.
“What is this place?”
“A dovecote, originally, but now it’s a bit of a picnic shelter for tourists in summer. There’s a fireplace inside we can use to warm up so it won’t be quite so bad.”
The wind coming off the water was biting through even the thickest coat, and I knew once we were inside the shelter of the dovecote, we’d be somewhat protected from it.
I grabbed the picnic basket from the rear seat next to Jon and reached for Felix’s hand.
“Come on, let’s get you out of this wind.”
Once we’d entered the round space through an old wooden door, I heard Felix take in a breath. He spun slowly around, trying to make out the features of the place in the dark. I handed him the small flashlight I’d stashed in my pocket.
“Here, turn this on, and I’ll get the fire started.”
There were cement benches around the edges of the circular enclosure, and two wooden picnic tables sat abandoned in the center. I made my way over to the large stone fireplace and lit the kindling that had already been laid. Once it caught, I added a few small logs from the wooden bin off to the side and watched as the fire began to grow.
“Where did your friend go?” Felix asked from over my shoulder. I turned to look at him and saw worried creases between his eyes. “Do you think he’s okay?”
I glanced behind Felix through the giant open windows and saw Jon walking a perimeter around the dovecote. He’d have known to wear high-tech warm gear and would be sufficiently supplied with a thermos of hot drinks from Mari.
“He’s fine. He just hitched a ride out here so he could brood along the cliffs like some romantic hero,” I joked while lighting some candle lanterns around the space. “Jon just went through a bad breakup. He wants some time to himself but doesn’t want to really be alone. Does that make sense?” I hated lying to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him Jon was my bodyguard. Not only did it make me feel weak, but it would also reveal my true identity. I wasn’t quite ready for the wall that would go up between us when Felix learned who I really was.
He followed my gaze and noticed Jon making his way along the footpaths surrounding the dovecote.
“He’s kind of odd, isn’t he?” Felix murmured. “Poor guy.”
“Yeah, well. Aren’t we all?” I threw a couple more logs onto the fire before retrieving the picnic basket and bringing it over to one of the tables closest to the fire. “Have a seat and let me show you what I brought.”
While I unpacked a tablecloth and plates from the basket, I noticed Felix wrap his arms around himself in a kind of hug. I stopped what I was doing and sat next to him.
“You still cold?” I asked gently. “We can go back if—”
“No!” He seemed to realize how loudly he’d spoken and softened his voice. “No, this is good. It’s… special. I am still a little cold, but I don’t want to go back, Lio. Please.”
I noticed his warm hat had ridden up over his ears, and I reached out to pull it back down again on both sides. His eyes widened in surprise at the gesture, but I felt him lean into my touch nonetheless.
His dark eyes drew me in, and I marveled at how sexy a man could be in eyeglasses. There was something about those tortoiseshell frames that set off his dark hair and dark brown eyes. His lashes seemed obsidian and endless. I realized I was staring.
“You’re sexy as hell,” I admitted in a low grumble. “The things
I want to do to you…”
His eyes widened comically farther, and his lips parted in surprise. “Me?”
How could he not know? “Of course you. Who else?”
“But I—”
I cut him off because I just couldn’t wait any longer. I slid my hand around to cup the back of his head and leaned forward to taste his lips.
Chapter 8
Felix
Surely I was dreaming. I’d landed on an enchanted island and straight into a fairy tale. Either that, or things happened very, very differently in Europe than they did at home. Because this kind of thing didn’t happen in Hobie, Texas.
My breath caught in my throat as the tip of Lio’s warm tongue teased the edges of my lips.
“Oh god,” I groaned. While my lips were open, he took the opportunity to slide that tongue inside my mouth, and I completely melted against him.
My cock was rock hard despite the cold, and I realized there was very little cold left in the stone room around us. The entire space had been heated up by Lio’s passionate attention. My face felt like it was on fire, and my heart thundered in my chest. Desire pulsed through my veins while I wondered idly if it would be okay if I climbed directly into the man’s lap. Or mouth, or body…
“You’re so fucking sweet, Felix,” Lio murmured as he moved his kisses across my cheek to the side of my neck. One of his hands cradled the back of my head while the other grasped the scarf around my neck and pulled me closer to him. “And sexy. Want to fuck you.”
I whimpered a little and winced before letting out another whimper. Dammit, no one wants to fuck a whimpering douchebag.
“You’re driving me crazy with those noises,” Lio mumbled as he nosed my scarf away and nibbled on my neck.
“Sorry,” I said through labored breaths. I knew it. Stupid whimpering.
Lio pulled back and studied me. “Sorry for what? Do you want me to stop?”
“What? No. No!” I winced again at my loud cry as it tore through the air. Why the hell did I need to sound so goddamned desperate? Um… maybe because I am so goddamned desperate?
Jon came storming into the room. “What’s wrong?”
At the sound of the man’s deep voice, I jumped and clutched at Lio’s coat. He pulled me against his chest and turned to Jon with a frown.
“We’re okay. Everything is fine,” he told Jon in a soothing voice. The big guy studied the pair of us as if looking for signs of trouble.
“You sure, Your Hi…” He seemed to grit his teeth before continuing. “Hi… hidey-hole is warm enough? It’s awfully cold outside,” Jon stammered.
Lio’s eyes narrowed at him. “Is that right?”
Jon rolled his eyes before grunting and turning around to walk back outside.
I looked up at Lio. “What was that about?”
“He’s protective.”
“And weird,” I muttered under my breath. Lio laughed and squeezed his arms around me before dropping a kiss on my head and letting me go.
“Let me get something warm inside you.”
I gulped. Surely he didn’t mean…
“This is like a fish stew,” Lio said, pulling a container out of the basket.
Oh right. Something warm like soup.
“It smells good,” I said with a cough. “What’s in it besides fish?”
“Tomatoes, garlic, onion, black olives. All the good stuff,” he said with a wink in my direction. The wink made my heart do little twirly things.
“Sounds delicious. You said it was a Monaco specialty?” I wondered if I sounded as awkward as I felt.
“Yes. And this is a recipe that has been in my father’s family for a very long time. Mari has made it for me for years.”
I helped him unpack the supplies from the basket and set out soup bowls, spoons, and water bottles.
“There are only two of everything,” I said with a frown. “What about Jon?”
“He already ate.”
Something about the Jon situation seemed off to me, but I didn’t dwell on it. I inhaled the steamy aroma of the soup as Lio ladled it into the pair of bowls on the table, and I moaned after bringing the first spoonful up to my lips.
“This is amazing,” I admitted. “Beats the hell out of chili any day.”
Lio laughed and settled onto the bench beside me. We still wore our bulky coats, but as the fire took hold in the nearby fireplace and the warm soup hit my stomach, I realized I could take off my hat and scarf. Lio did the same.
“I brought some wine but didn’t know if it would make you too cold,” he said. “Would you like some?”
“No, I’m good with the water and coffee. I’m kind of a coffee junkie if you want to know the truth.”
“Is that right? Why is that, do you think? Just like the taste of it?”
“No. Well, yes, I do. But I got addicted to it when I started graduate school. I was juggling two specialties—art history and glassmaking. All the time spent between the library and the studio meant little time left over for sleep.”
“Mari told me you were here as a student. Are you studying Gadleigh glass as part of your master’s?”
“My doctoral dissertation,” I corrected. “I finished my master’s a few years ago.”
Lio set his spoon down and shifted until he was facing me. “You’re pursuing a PhD in glassmaking?”
I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. “It’s actually a PhD in chemistry. My hope is to teach at a university as a professor instead of a TA.”
“Why would a chemistry professor come study at Gadleigh?”
“Well, the study of chemistry is part of glassmaking, which is my real love. The chemistry of the different minerals creating the various colors of glass. Gadleigh boasts the most unique sand mineral combinations on the planet. It’s one of the reasons Gadleigh is known for its glass. It’s always been a dream of mine to come visit the island in person and study the glass up close. I’m kind of a stained glass nut.”
Lio’s face relaxed into a smile. “Well, then, you’ve certainly come to the right place.”
“Right. And that’s why I made the mistake of pressing the jewel in the floor earlier today. I couldn’t keep my stupid hands off it,” I confessed. “It’s just so… exquisite.”
I found myself gazing past Lio’s face into the warm light of the fire. The colors of the flames were their own study in chemistry, and I began to babble.
“The gold that’s prevalent on the beaches here makes the most amazing shade of rose. But when you combine it with the neodymium, you get a completely different result. The fact that the island is controlled by a singular owner who won’t allow the gold to be mined for its cash value means it can go into the glass. Obviously, it’s rare to get glass with gold used in its coloration. That’s one of the reasons Gadleigh glass is so unique. And there’s also erbium here, which was originally discovered in Sweden. That gives the glass a lighter pink coloration than the gold.”
“Go on,” Lio said, encouraging me. “Tell me more.”
Rather than second-guess myself, I took the opportunity to talk about something I loved. “These beaches have magical sand,” I explained with a grin. The subject made me a little giddy. “It’s like a glassmaker’s wet dream. So, one of the main ways of coloring glass is by adding metal oxides, which absorb certain wavelengths of light. Manganese, one of the metals found in the sand here, can be used to achieve a lovely purple color. There’s also a coloration process using heat treatment to create colloidal properties. The colloidal properties basically scatter light in the glass to cause the color effects. Then a third way of coloring glass is simply to add already colored particles to the glass. Milk glass is made this way by adding tin oxide.”
“What got you interested in stained glass originally?”
I thought about the first time I’d ever noticed stained glass and felt a chill come over me. Despite the warmth of the fire, the fullness in my belly, and in the mug of hot coffee in my hands, I shivered.
&n
bsp; “I saw some as a child and just… fell in love I guess,” I said quietly.
Lio’s large hand came up to pull one of my hands off my mug and enclose it in his warm grip.
“There’s a story there, Felix. What is it?” he asked.
I shook my head and cleared my throat before looking back at him and trying to hide my sad memory with a smile.
“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, my grandfathers always encouraged my love of it. So when I went to college, that’s what I studied. My undergraduate degree was in art history with a minor in chemistry. Then I got a Master of Fine Arts in Glass. Now I’m finishing a doctorate in chemistry. Kind of geeky, I know.” I chuckled and shrugged. “But there it is.”
Lio’s thumb caressed the back of my hand as he peered at me with his intense blue eyes. I could tell he wanted to push me on the story I was obviously hiding, but in the end, he didn’t.
“Why do you want to teach instead of make glass?”
“I’m not good enough to make a living as an artist. If I want to be around stained glass, there aren’t many options. Glass preservation would require lots of travel. I’m a bit of a homebody normally. So teaching is the natural place for me to end up. Chemistry, art history, glassmaking… any of those things, really. As long as I’m able to keep studying and appreciating the glass, I’m not picky about how. My grandfather gives me hell about not making more glass, but… I don’t know. Honestly, I’m happy just being around it.”
“You’ve mentioned your grandfather before. I take it he’s been important to you?”
This time, my smile was genuine as I thought of Grandpa and Doc. “Both of them, yes. They raised me from the time I was nine.”
His lips turned down. “What happened to your parents?”
“Um, I never knew my dad. And my mom sort of… decided it would be better for her to pursue her career unencumbered by a kid.” I didn’t dare mention who my mother was. The last thing in the world I wanted was that weirdness that happened whenever someone realized who I was.