Page 6 of Trapped for Christmas

Kaden pulled Zeb closer and kissed him on the cheek. “Can I buy you a drink, Zeb?”

“I’ve got one, thanks.”

“Did that guy get it for you?” he asked, signaling to Hunter.

“Yeah. That’s Hunter, my best friend. We just popped in for a quick drink after doing some shopping.”

Why was he explaining himself to Kaden? Zeb had a habit of word-vomiting whenever he met a hot guy. Kaden had to be around six feet tall at least, and clearly had a lot of muscle on him, but he wasn’t jacked. His dark skin didn’t have a mark on it, and his teeth were perfect. His dreadlocks were short. He was wearing a dress shirt and a pair of formal pants, but he had sneakers on, which were top of the line. He had two diamond studs in his ears, and his aftershave had an earthy smell to it. Zeb preferred the citrusy fragrance Mason wore.

“Are you in college?” asked Kaden.

“No. I work as an assistant to an executive chef.”

“Like a sous chef?”

“No, more like a secretary. I work in the office. What about you?”

“I work in wealth management. Do you know what that is?”

“Like a financial advisor?”

“Yeah, something like that. How old are you, Zeb?”

“I’m twenty-one. You?”

“Twenty-seven. You look older.”

“I get that a lot. Comes in handy.”

“For what?”

“Not being asked for ID all the time.”

Kaden smiled at him. The man had stunning blue eyes, which you didn’t see often on African American guys, but it was sexy as hell. Zeb might have a thing for blue eyes, but that had nothing at all to do with a certain chef.

“Can I give you my number, Zeb? I’d like to take you out for dinner.”

He hesitated for a second. A vision of Mason popped into his head, but he couldn’t keep pining for a guy who didn’t want him. Kaden was only six years older than him, but he seemed to have his shit together. Well, from what Zeb had worked out in such a brief conversation, but perhaps that was his problem. Zeb felt comfortable with an older man, as they had the confidence he lacked. Kaden was certainly confident, so Zeb agreed. It was only one dinner. What could go wrong?

CHAPTER 3

MASON

1st November

“Deacon, has Hunter said anything to you about Zeb?”

“I should have known you had an ulterior motive. There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”

Mason smiled, but it was clear his friend wasn’t buying it. It was November, and Zeb had been acting differently for the past month. There was nothing wrong with his work, it was impeccable as always, but he seemed distant. It wasn’t unusual for him to stay behind and wait for Hunter to finish, and for the two of them to leave together, or he would at least eat with him before the evening rush, but lately he was out the door on time every evening. Mason had no expectation for any of his staff to work more than their contracted hours. It was just out of character for Zeb, and he couldn’t stop himself from worrying.

Hunter was Zeb’s best friend, so he’d know what was going on. Mason wouldn’t ask him outright, as that would be overstepping, but he could ask one of his own friends, who was Hunter’s boyfriend. And there was one way he could always get what he wanted from his friends, and that was to feed them.

“I just need to know if something’s going on that I should be concerned about,” said Mason.

They were in his private dining room, and he’d prepared the signature club sandwich he knew Deacon was a big fan of. He used toasted homemade brioche, corn-fed chicken, smoked pancetta, black truffle mayonnaise, chicken jus, and the best quality lettuce and tomatoes from local organic vendors.

“I’ll pay the ninety bucks for the sandwich,” said Deacon.