walking down a couple of blocks for takeout or making dinner?
Breathing deeply, he stared at the front door, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe he’d just go to sleep. The absolute least effort.
Inside the house, he sniffed. It smelled like… food?
“Parker?”
Parker popped out of the kitchen with a broad smile. “Ivan. You’re home. I thought you’d be later.”
Ivan smiled back, letting himself slip into the strange comfort of his undercover persona. Nightmares or not, coming home to Parker was a hell of a lot better than going back to his empty apartment or trolling bars for a hookup.
“Some days are better than others.”
“I made dinner. Or, I tried to. It’s just soup, but I didn’t think I could screw it up too badly, and it wouldn’t matter much what time you got home.”
Dinner was made. Amazing. When was the last time he’d come home to dinner? Months. Long before Colin moved out.
“I’m sure it’s fine.” He took a couple of steps toward Parker, but stopped when he realized he’d been on autopilot for a hug and kiss. Parker might be gay, but Ivan Baker wasn’t.
“Anything on that enormous TV of yours tonight?” Ivan lacked affinity for any specific shows. With his hours, getting wrapped up in a show was pointless effort, but he was happy to watch just about anything.
Parker shrugged. He walked back into the kitchen to stir the soup. Ivan followed him and poured a glass of wine. “Want one?”
That got him another shy smile, one that seemed to say Parker was unaccustomed to simple courtesy.
“Sure, thanks.”
When Parker’s attention returned to the stove, Ivan grabbed the open bottle of wine.
“Are you wanting to go for another run tonight?” Parker asked.
After their slothful day on the couch Saturday, he’d spent part of Sunday showing Parker the basics of running. They hadn’t gone far, but Parker didn’t have any regular exercise regime that Ivan could see, and it sure as hell didn’t hurt for him to counteract some of the worst college excesses.
“Liked it, did you?”
Parker made a sound Ivan took for assent. “I’m a little sore, but yeah.”
“That’ll go away after a few times.” Ivan bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet, testing his own muscles. After the day he’d had, though, believing he’d be able to rouse himself enough for an evening run was… optimistic at best.
“Don’t think I’m up for one tonight. I’m beat.”
Parker twisted his head around and frowned. “You do look tired. I thought you said work was better today.”
A sardonic laugh escaped his lips as he grabbed another wine glass from the top shelf. “No, I think I said some days were better than others. Just because I got home at a decent hour, more or less, doesn’t mean work was any better.”
He sure as shit didn’t want to think about his day. These different facets of his life were a little too big to keep in his brain.
The soup bubbled and spat. With Parker’s attention back on the stove, Ivan let himself study Parker. The contentment he’d felt after walking in to Parker’s happy smile was something he didn’t want to examine, nor did he want to consider what made Parker decide to take a criminal detour when he appeared so firmly to be on the right path.
Later. He’d let himself think about it later. Until he had a chance to search the place, until he had a chance to follow Parker and assess his associates, he’d let himself be Ivan Baker, insurance salesman. That guy was a lot less complicated. He kinda liked Ivan Baker’s life.
He stepped up behind Parker, glass in hand, and slid Parker’s glass of wine onto the counter beside the stove.
“There’s your wine.”
“Oh thanks. Can you grab bowls?”
“Sure.” Ivan pulled away, unsure if the request was intended to make him back off or not. He took a small mouthful and placed his glass down before turning away to grab bowls.
“Oh shit!”
The crash of glass had Ivan whirling into a
Breathing deeply, he stared at the front door, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe he’d just go to sleep. The absolute least effort.
Inside the house, he sniffed. It smelled like… food?
“Parker?”
Parker popped out of the kitchen with a broad smile. “Ivan. You’re home. I thought you’d be later.”
Ivan smiled back, letting himself slip into the strange comfort of his undercover persona. Nightmares or not, coming home to Parker was a hell of a lot better than going back to his empty apartment or trolling bars for a hookup.
“Some days are better than others.”
“I made dinner. Or, I tried to. It’s just soup, but I didn’t think I could screw it up too badly, and it wouldn’t matter much what time you got home.”
Dinner was made. Amazing. When was the last time he’d come home to dinner? Months. Long before Colin moved out.
“I’m sure it’s fine.” He took a couple of steps toward Parker, but stopped when he realized he’d been on autopilot for a hug and kiss. Parker might be gay, but Ivan Baker wasn’t.
“Anything on that enormous TV of yours tonight?” Ivan lacked affinity for any specific shows. With his hours, getting wrapped up in a show was pointless effort, but he was happy to watch just about anything.
Parker shrugged. He walked back into the kitchen to stir the soup. Ivan followed him and poured a glass of wine. “Want one?”
That got him another shy smile, one that seemed to say Parker was unaccustomed to simple courtesy.
“Sure, thanks.”
When Parker’s attention returned to the stove, Ivan grabbed the open bottle of wine.
“Are you wanting to go for another run tonight?” Parker asked.
After their slothful day on the couch Saturday, he’d spent part of Sunday showing Parker the basics of running. They hadn’t gone far, but Parker didn’t have any regular exercise regime that Ivan could see, and it sure as hell didn’t hurt for him to counteract some of the worst college excesses.
“Liked it, did you?”
Parker made a sound Ivan took for assent. “I’m a little sore, but yeah.”
“That’ll go away after a few times.” Ivan bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet, testing his own muscles. After the day he’d had, though, believing he’d be able to rouse himself enough for an evening run was… optimistic at best.
“Don’t think I’m up for one tonight. I’m beat.”
Parker twisted his head around and frowned. “You do look tired. I thought you said work was better today.”
A sardonic laugh escaped his lips as he grabbed another wine glass from the top shelf. “No, I think I said some days were better than others. Just because I got home at a decent hour, more or less, doesn’t mean work was any better.”
He sure as shit didn’t want to think about his day. These different facets of his life were a little too big to keep in his brain.
The soup bubbled and spat. With Parker’s attention back on the stove, Ivan let himself study Parker. The contentment he’d felt after walking in to Parker’s happy smile was something he didn’t want to examine, nor did he want to consider what made Parker decide to take a criminal detour when he appeared so firmly to be on the right path.
Later. He’d let himself think about it later. Until he had a chance to search the place, until he had a chance to follow Parker and assess his associates, he’d let himself be Ivan Baker, insurance salesman. That guy was a lot less complicated. He kinda liked Ivan Baker’s life.
He stepped up behind Parker, glass in hand, and slid Parker’s glass of wine onto the counter beside the stove.
“There’s your wine.”
“Oh thanks. Can you grab bowls?”
“Sure.” Ivan pulled away, unsure if the request was intended to make him back off or not. He took a small mouthful and placed his glass down before turning away to grab bowls.
“Oh shit!”
The crash of glass had Ivan whirling into a
Similar Books
