Page 57 of Dreams and Reptiles

“There’s a surprise for me downstairs, and you think it can wait? Oh, Kendall mine, you are hereby warned that I love surprises and have no patience for them, so up, up. Let’s shower together and go.”

I groaned, feeling the effects of the dancing, the sex, and my crazy work life lately. I could have slept all day, but I wanted to see Francis’s expression when he saw what I’d had made for him.

Our shower was glorious, and I happily accepted his offer—well, his demand; he was greedy and demanding, and I loved it—to wash me. I would have loved to spread him out and have another taste of him, but he pushed my hands away every time I attempted to distract him.

He asked me about my favorite breakfast foods, whether I was a morning or night person, and what was the perfect amount of times to have sex each week.

“Steel-cut oatmeal, usually morning unless it’s my day off, and then I love to sleep in, and there is no perfect amount of times.”

“What do you mean?” He shut off the water and wrapped me in a towel, taking time to pat me dry before lathering me in the coconut lotion that made my stomach growl.

“If there’s a lot of physical affection with my partner outside of bed, I don’t feel that desperate need to have sex all the time. I get just as much joy from hugs, back rubs, spooning… If I’m with someone who isn’t physically affectionate, then sex feels more important to me. I guess that connection lets me know that everything’s okay and that I’m loved, and if that’s the only way I get it, then I want it more often. I don’t know if I’m even making sense.”

“No, I think I understand. So you’re saying you’re good as long as we’re touching. Cool. I can work with that. It won’t be too much of a hardship to caress that incredible ass of yours. Is that also part of your job as a fireman? You gotta fill out the pants, huh?”

“Naturally,” I said, though I appreciated how easy he took everything. I’d initially worried that his humor was a way to cover up his feelings, but it seemed it was just how he liked to express them. He didn’t shy away from talking about anything, except for whatever awful thing happened to him a year ago, which still poked at my consciousness. I hated not knowing, but it wasn’t something I could push for answers. “Having a great ass is a prerequisite for the academy.”

I slid on my sweaty jeans, thinking I’d love to put on comfy clothes and wondering if I should bring a few pairs of boxers over. Were we at the stage where I got to have my own drawer and toothbrush? Was it too soon to ask?

He snorted and strolled over to his dresser, where he pulled out a pair of those tiny trunks. My mouth started watering all over again, despite the fact that my old man body was telling me to rein it in. Take a breather.

“Well, seeing as this is your day off, and I woke you up early, how about I feed you, and, if you don’t have other plans, we can be lazy together?” He stepped into a pair of those flowy lounge pants I loved, and another stretched-out crop top. This one was an ’80s pink and gray number that had Annie Lennox’s face on it.

“I don’t have other plans. My shift doesn’t start till tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Then after we eat, you can run and grab comfy clothes so we can be sloth-like until you have to leave.”

“Sounds like heaven. But first, I have to give you your surprise.”

His eyes lit up and he took off down the stairs. “Where is it? Where is it? Oh—shhhh.”

He pointed to the guest room on the second-floor landing, which still had the door shut, and he proceeded to dramatically tiptoe past it before trotting down the last set of steps.

“I so want to fuck with them,” I whispered, when I caught up to Francis. “But I don’t want to see the aftermath of whatever they got up to last night.”

“Well, if the smell of coffee and my breakfast doesn’t do the trick, we can totally blast the music in their room.”

“That’s a pretty neat feature. Did you have that put in?”

“Sure did. It’s so awesome.”

“Oh, come here.”

I took Francis by the elbow and led him into his office. Derek had indeed set the tool bag on the floor inside the door.

“First,” I said, turning around. I handed him the bag. “Your very own tool bag. I wanted to take you with me to put it together, but I was over there anyway…”

His whole face lit up as he took it gingerly out of my hands.

“It says ‘Saucy.’ Oh my goshness, Kendall! Whoa, it’s heavy⁠—”

“Reach inside carefully.” I put my hands under it to support it as he pulled out the main present. It was wrapped in brown paper with twine tied around it.

“What is it?”

“Open it,” I said, taking the tool bag and putting it on his desk. “You need scissors?”

He shook his head as he slid the twine over the end. The piece was eight by ten, not huge, but perfect for his front porch.