Page 63 of Dreams and Reptiles

Roger pulled him in and kissed his temple. “We both do.”

“There’s a lot of that going around,” I said, grabbing them both by the shoulders. “And we’ve got the rest of the day to be lovesick puppies, then tomorrow we’re on shift, and we’ve got one day to prep for the worst holiday ever.”

They groaned with me.

“Fucking Fourth of July,” Rog muttered. “You make sure you’ve got defensible space on the other side of your property?”

I frowned. “I should probably take another pass over there. I’ll get Francis settled in and take a run at it with the riding mower.” So much for our lazy day.

We met Francis and Derek back inside. Derek, Roger, and Arnie collected their things from upstairs, said their goodbyes, and headed out to their cars. Francis led me upstairs.

“Derek okay?”

“He is, just a little spooked.” Francis gave me a sad look. “He hasn’t really done the serious relationship thing and never with two guys. I think I convinced him to talk to them about it. He just needs some time.”

I sighed and rubbed his back. “Yeah, I keep telling them that they get so intense. I hope they haven’t scared him away.”

Francis shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think the situation is just farther outside his realm of understanding, and he also struggles a bit with self-esteem. He’s so used to being the wallflower, he can’t imagine they both want him, much less want him for more than sex.”

“I hope they work it out,” Kendall said. “Your moms were okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Pissed but fine. I’m so glad I upgraded all the alarm systems around this place. I’m going to add some more cameras. I want to make sure I get the entrance to the property and the road going toward the highway. I can’t believe that dumbass came all the way out here. He really needs a life.”

“Well, he’s going to have plenty of time to think about it sitting in jail. With the holiday, he won’t go before a judge until a minimum of four days from now.”

Francis shuddered. “Anyone else in that position, I might feel sorry for, but he brought all of this on himself. He ruined my career and wrecked my life for a time. He can take a few days to think about it.”

“You’re so damned strong, Francis. I’m in awe of you.”

We’d reached his bedroom, and he turned to face me. “In awe of me, huh? Enough to let me have my way with you again?”

“Whatever you want…” I winced. “But I do have to run home for a bit later on.”

“Later. Yes. But right now, get out of those clothes and back into my bed.”

I complied, and he awed me senseless once more. Then I returned the favor until we were so wrecked we slept the rest of the afternoon. We ate leftover snacks from the night before for dinner in the kitchen, dressed in bathrobes. Francis threw my clothes in the wash and was telling me all about the retreat that would start the day after tomorrow.

“I’m going to have twelve romance authors here for four days. I can’t wait. Mom and Auntie Judy will cook lunches and dinners, and I’ll take breakfasts and keep them in snacks. It’s my trial run, so I’m hoping everything works out, but even more than that, I bet I’m going to hear some enlightening conversations.”

I slid my hand under his robe and up his thigh. “Think you might get some pointers?”

He took my hand and moved it higher. “If I do, shall I share them with you?”

I couldn’t believe we’d had sex three times in the past twenty-four hours, and I was ready to go again. Francis was, too. He hopped down off the stool and was ready to pull my robe off, but he looked to the front door.

“I think we better keep our nudity upstairs. I hadn’t thought about that with all these windows.”

“Such a hardship,” I said, chuckling as he took my hand to lead me back upstairs.

I had a niggling thought that I was forgetting something, but all I could think of was Francis. How much I loved his mind and craved his body, and how much I was going to have to up my cardio if I was going to keep up with him.

It would be so worth it.

Two days later, Arnie and I were in charge of the grill for the Foggy Basin annual Fire Department Fourth of July BBQ, and we were arguing over how much sauce to put on the chicken.

“All I’m saying is, if you put too much, the sugar is going to burn. Go easy, my friend.”

Arnie grumbled at me, but he put the sauce aside.