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Authors: Tempeste O'Riley

BOOK: Desires' Guardian
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“Huh? Oh, Chase is preparing our dinner tomorrow. Or rather, I asked him to help me cook and make sure things are nice and taste good together.” Mark made his baking selections and continued to the next aisle, grumbling about why he needed three kinds of oil for one meal. Rhys stood there staring, lost in thought over visions of Chase in nothing but an apron. A short apron.

Mentally shaking off the inappropriate but delicious image, Rhys jogged to catch up. “Wait! Did you just say you conned Chase, as in Chase Manning, into cooking for your meet-the-parents dinner?”

“Yeah,” Mark muttered as he consulted his list again. “Why? He made the menu and he’s supposed to help, but he’s not staying.”

“God! You’re trying to kill me.”

Mark stopped to peer at Rhys. “I don’t understand why it matters to you. He’s doing this for me. You will have little to no contact with Chase, so whatever your issue is with him isn’t a problem. Right?” he asked, his sudden scowl making Rhys step back at the implied threat.

“No, of course not,” Rhys countered, shaking his head. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

The two large men continued through the store, garnering a few side glances, as they always did. After a few more aisles, Rhys cleared his throat. “Seth says Chase is really good at desserts, so that’s good, right?”

“Yeah, I remember Seth talking about it when he was dating James, and James freaked out on him for a while.” Mark smiled wide. “He said Chase coerced James into dinner with Seth at his place and that he helped with the cooking. If he’s as good as James is, this dinner is going to make everyone happy. I just hope I can actually make whatever all this stuff is for. Even with help, I’m not sure about all this.”

 

 

“Y
OU
KNOW
,
when I asked for help I expected a
little
assistance, not you fixing such a fantastic smelling and looking meal. I mean, you even
made
the dessert!” Mark looked around his kitchen, wide-eyed.

Chase smiled at him. “You said you needed to impress Aurora’s parents, so….”

“Yeah, that’s true, but you did way above and beyond what I was expecting. I thought you would show me what to do and then leave me, not cook all this for me while you sent me out for flowers.”

Chase shrugged and continued messing with the food.

“How’d you learn to do all this, anyway?”

“My mom loves to cook, and James was raised in a B&B. He learned to cook a lot of things and taught me after we met in college. It’s no big, honest.” Chase stopped to think through everything planned for the evening, not wanting to mess up Mark’s big meet-the-parents thing. “Oh, Aurora said for you to set up the bar but not to worry about appetizers. So, from here forward, it should be super easy. I will stay in here, out of the way, and just serve. Once I deliver the main dish, I’ll head out. All you’ll need to do is serve dessert and then clean up. And, Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let Aurora clear the dishes if you want to impress her folks.” Chase smiled, fussing with his cuff. “Show them you can take care of her, not that you expect to be taken care of.”

Mark nodded as he again looked at the dishes and cookware in use. “I don’t know how I’ll repay you for this, but I swear I will, Chase!”

Chase waved away his words, unconcerned about “paybacks.” They were friends: what else would he expect?

“Okay, so, what all are we having? I don’t want to look like an idiot when her mom asks me about the food,” Mark asked, scuffing the toe of one boot back and forth.

“Nothing too complicated. The winter fruit salad with lemon poppy seed dressing is already plated and in the fridge.”

Mark’s nose wrinkled. Chase broke off what he was saying and asked, “What?”

“It’s not that weird, goopy marshmallow and fruit stuff, is it?”

Chase laughed at both the look Mark gave and his description. “No, Mark. It’s a salad that has cranberries, apples, pears, romaine lettuce, and other normal salad ingredients in it, topped with the lemon poppy seed dressing I made this morning.”

“So nothing weird or drippy or sticky?”

“Um, no.” Chase fought not to laugh again, but it was hard with the earnest, worried look Mark was giving him.

“Now, your main dish is stuffed pork tenderloin with honey roasted baby carrots, and Parmesan-garlic mashed cauliflower. The crusty bread is cooling, and the butter is already out to soften. And for dessert, you have apple raisin crisp and vanilla bean ice cream.”

“I’m going to have to practically live in the gym to burn off tonight’s dinner,” Mark teased, but Chase could see how pleased he was. Impressing parents was something Chase was good at; finding and keeping a decent man, not so much.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Oh, I got both a red and a white for your dinner. Some people swear by one or the other, so they have a choice, but both pair nicely with the fruit and pork, don’t worry.”

The doorbell rang just as Mark’s cell demanded his attention. Chase bounded off to answer the door for Mark, smiling widely at being able to cook for others who would appreciate it. Cooking was his one hobby. One that few knew about and fewer still would believe.

His grin froze when he opened the door and found Rhys standing before him with a rather expensive bottle of brandy in his left hand.

“Uh….” His mind went completely blank. Why was Rhys here? Now?

“Hi, Chase.” Rhys extended his right hand. His smile was warm and open.

It took a moment, but his brain finally kicked in. Chase grasped Rhys’s hand. He gasped at the spark of heat that flashed through him when their hands met. “H-hello. I didn’t know you were coming to Mark’s for dinner tonight.”

Caught in Rhys’s gaze, Chase couldn’t seem to move away or say more.

Rhys’s lips turned down. “He convinced you to cook for him but didn’t tell you how many were coming for dinner? That doesn’t sound like Mark.”

Rhys released Chase’s hand, the slow slide of heated skin against his leaving Chase aching and flushed. When he blinked, Chase was able to look away and take a steadying breath.

Mark interrupted the awkward moment when he came into the foyer and smiled at Rhys. “Hey, man, glad you made it before her parents arrived. Thanks. You got Ryan’s preferred drink!”

“Of course. But, Mark, Chase says you didn’t put me on the guest list.”

“Yes, I did. I said three men and two women for dinner.” Mark looked at Chase with his head tilted slightly. “Are you picking on Rhys again?”

“I—you—” Chase huffed. “I don’t pick on Rhys,” he snapped, folding his arms tightly across his chest.
“He
picks on
me
. And no, I didn’t realize the extra seat was for him. Doesn’t matter. There’s plenty of food and wine for everyone. You”—Chase motioned to Rhys—“answer the door. And you”—pointing to Mark—“go entertain your girl and her family. As for me, I’ll be in the kitchen.” Chase snapped his mouth closed and fled through the kitchen door, hoping Rhys would not follow.

“But the doorbell didn’t—” Mark’s complaint was cut off by the sudden
ding-dong
of said doorbell.

“Don’t ask how he does that,” Rhys said. “I’ll get the door, since he’s the one giving the orders tonight.”

Chase heard Rhys move toward the door. An instant later, glasses clinked in the front room and voices he didn’t recognize were saying hello. Eternally thankful for interruptions and distractions, Chase continued the final prep for dinner. He caught himself rubbing the palm of his right hand nervously down his thigh, which only served to annoy him more. “Shouldn’t react to him like that, dammit!” he swore under his breath.

Every time Rhys’s laugh wafted in from the other room, he bit back a groan. Chase hated how his groin tightened and his cock sat up every time. “He’s not even
that
cute,” he continued to grumble.

Things got weird again when Chase went to serve the first course. Chase sat a shallow bowl of chilled salad before each person, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. When he sat the dish in front of Aurora’s mom, Janet, she stopped him.

“Excuse me, but do you mind if I ask you a question, dear?” Her bright smile put him at ease right away.

“What do you need, ma’am?”

“Such manners! I simply adore your friends, Mark.” Turning back to Chase, she continued, “Well, dear, two things. Are you going to join us for dinner, or has Mark roped you into playing server only?”

“Oh, I came over to help him cook a little. This is really his baby,” Chase explained, gesturing to the diner he’d just set out. “But, no, I’m not staying. This is a family meal.”

Janet smiled slowly and nodded. “I hope to get to meet you again, then. Oh, and I wanted to know about your necklace. It’s a bit unusual but very cute.”

“My necklace?” Chase thought for a moment about what he was wearing. “Oh! The Spoon Theory choker, you mean?”

“Yes. I don’t think I have ever seen a spoon like that for a choker before. Does it mean something special, or is it just something you liked?”

“Actually, it’s a sort of hero amulet for my best friend.” At the blank looks all around, Chase decided a little more explanation was needed. “Have you heard of ‘The Spoon Theory’?” Only Rhys didn’t shake his head. “It’s a little story about how a person with an invisible or little understood illness or disability has only so much energy, or so many ‘spoons’ for each day, and how they count each one to make sure they can do all the things they need to do. The problem is, most don’t have enough spoons to do everything they have to do, so they have to learn to prioritize or suffer.”

Chase stopped and thought about the choker, lost in thought for a moment. It was a little iridescent blue spoon with a stylized JB inside a silver heart. “There’s a lot more to it, but my BFF, James, has Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and he lives his life having to struggle that way. He rarely says anything to anyone about it, though, not even his partner. This is something I wear to remind me of his fight. His initials are engraved on the bowl of the spoon if you look closely,” he added, pointing to the choker.

“That’s so sweet of you, Chase,” Janet commented. “I’d love to look into that story you mentioned, if you would give me the name of the site or where I can get it.”

“I’ll leave it with Mark, but for now, eat up. Dinner is almost ready.” On his way back to the kitchen, Chase caught the thoughtful smile Rhys gave him. It seemed almost affectionate, but that couldn’t be right. Rhys had made his opinion quite clear, and besides, he had no interest in the big oaf anyway!
Yeah, right,
a traitorous little voice inside whispered.

 

 

R
HYS
WATCHED
Chase maneuver around the dining room, placing the hot plates at each setting. Admiring how good Chase looked in the all-black outfit he wore, he again hated himself for how they’d met and the things he had said. He was really beginning to wonder if pushing Chase away was one of his more stupid mistakes.

He fought not to growl when Mark stood and hugged Chase before he left. It was ridiculous, he knew, but he hated seeing others be able to touch Chase when he couldn’t. Shaking Chase’s hand earlier had been both bliss and torture. If only he could trust Chase to be the kind of man James said he was, not the club twink he’d seemed to be when Rhys had first met him.

Aurora’s father, Ryan, regarded Rhys with the same knowing smirk his father did at times. Of course, Ryan and his dad being first cousins probably accounted for it, but even so. “You sweet on that one, huh, Rhys?”

“What?” Rhys choked. “No. He’s our new computer guy, that’s all.”

Ryan chuckled dryly. “Son, you could have cut the tension between the two of you with a steak knife. It’s the same look your dad used to give your mum when they were teens.” He continued to stare at Rhys as he began to eat. “And damn! He can cook too.”

“Sir, Chase works for me, so no matter what I may or may not feel, is beside the point,” Rhys explained, trying to keep both his voice and stare firm.

Ryan looked over at Mark. “Is he always this obtuse? Or is there a real reason he’s not courtin’ the boy?”

Mark shrugged. “I haven’t been able to get the story out of either of them on why they act like that to each other.
I
think he likes Chase, but then deep down, I think Chase likes him too. Just wish I could figure out why they’re not together.”

“Oh come on, you two, stop picking on Rhys,” Aurora cut in. “I’m sure he has his reasons for not pursuing the cutie. Now, don’t be rude, Rhys. Eat up.”

Rhys smiled and took his first bite of the meal and this time he did groan. “Damn, he really can cook.” He immediately blushed. “I, uh, mean nice?”

Everyone laughed.

As dinner wore on, Rhys mainly kept quiet, preferring to enjoy both the company and the terrific food. He was thankful, though, that Aurora managed to direct the conversation away from the possibility of him and Chase.

Once dinner was over, Rhys excused himself so the couple and her parents could have some unsupervised time together. Mark had only asked him to “supervise” dinner. He reached for the door, but was stopped by a small, soft hand on his arm.

“Can I walk you up, Rhys?” Aurora asked, concern clear in her eyes.

“I only live upstairs, sweetheart.” The look in her eyes had him nodding and offering her his arm. “Fine, come lecture me too.”

Neither spoke on the way up to Rhys’s third-floor loft. Once inside he offered her a drink and the couch. “Soda? Tea?”

“No, Rhys. Now, come here and talk to me a little.”

Rhys walked slowly over to sit on the couch beside her, unsure of what she had to say and dreading it all the same.

“I’m not here to lecture you,” Aurora began, giving a gentle pat to his big hand. “You should know better. However, I do want to ask you what’s wrong. I know your type, and that cute little twink is so your type, it’s beyond not funny. So, just curious—what gives? And why did he seem alternatively excited and hurt when he stared at you?”

“Long story, but suffice to say, I acted like a drunk-ass fool the night we met, and any chance between us was pretty much over before I sobered.” Rhys looked down, not sure how to ask what he really wanted to know.

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