Page 5

And waited.

The stuffed shells casserole was delicious and enjoyed by the whole crew, and now Stu’s metal pan sat clean on my counter, waiting for him to stop by.

Only he hadn’t, and it’d been over two weeks since our little escapade, and I was more than a little miffed that Stu hadn’t so much as waved to me from his driveway. Also, I was approaching DEFCON levels of horny, with zero desire to go hunting on the apps or in person. For all I was known as a flirt, I could be rather picky about partners, and Stu checked every last one of my boxes. There had been something…else to the encounter with him, something I didn’t care to name but made him linger in my brain.

I glanced out my front window yet again. His place was across the street and two houses over, but I had a pretty good view of his driveway, especially now that the house on the other side had been lost to the fire, creating a gap in the street.

“See you Monday!” A cheery, forty-something woman with short teal hair and silver glasses stood next to a large, loaded-down silver SUV. I’d seen her around and was reasonably certain she was Stu’s ex. Both kids emerging from the house with backpacks and other bags and climbing into the SUV added to that assumption.

“Have a great weekend.” Stu waved to them from the porch.

What was this? Stu home alone? Possibly bored and also horny?

I glanced over at that empty pan. Returning it was a rather obvious excuse, but it wouldn’t be neighborly to keep his pan. A distant memory tingled in my brain. My mom sometimes returned a casserole dish with something in it as a thank you. I had a wicked sweet tooth, so I easily found a box of brownie mix in my pantry and some parchment paper for lining the pan. I could make brownies in my sleep, so I had them baking in the oven in short order, allowing me time for a quick shower.

Now, I had the pan to return, and if Stu wanted to take the hint and invite me in for a brownie, I wouldn’t complain. With one eye on Stu’s driveway to make sure his car was still there, I let the pan cool to a point where it was easy to carry but still had a hint of fresh-from-the-oven warmth.

Showered and with brownies in hand, I headed for his place which was close to a mirror of mine—slightly different exterior styling, but same window placement and roughly a similar size. Confident, I rang the bell, but then Stu kept me waiting. And waiting. Now, I was less sure and a little irritated, but before I could retreat, the door finally opened.

“Hey, Percy.” Eyes squinting, he looked a bit confused at my presence. “Sorry, I was painting in the back garage.”

“No problem.” I offered the lie cheerfully like I hadn’t been worried he was avoiding me. “I’ve been meaning to return your pan. Thought you and the kids might appreciate some brownies.”

Another lie, but I couldn’t reveal that I’d been watching his house.

“The kids are camping for the weekend with my ex and her new partner, but thank you.” He accepted the pan. “Way too much chocolate here for just me. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure. I’m in no hurry. Not on duty until tomorrow.” I followed him into a near-identical layout to my house, but where my walls were bare, his were a riot of colorful paintings on large canvases. Even his end tables and kitchen chairs were painted in bright shades with geometric accents. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. It’s a rental, but way bigger than what we had in San Jose.” He set the brownies on the counter before fetching two small plates.

“I like the art.” Surprisingly, I wasn’t just being polite. While it wasn’t what I would have chosen for my place, I did like his bold style, which managed to be both striking and welcoming.

“Eh. That’s what you get with an art teacher.” He gestured at the walls. “A lot of these are samples I’ve done for student projects but didn’t feel like painting over so I could reuse the canvas.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. It works for the space.”

“Hey, you want some art for your walls? I’ll cut you a good deal,” he teased, marginally more relaxed than when he’d opened the door. He handed me a plate with a fork and a large slice of brownie.

“Might take you up on that.” I glanced at the table and his couch, unsure exactly where he wanted us to eat.

“Sit.” He pointed at the table, which was closer but decidedly less cozy than the couch. “If you’re serious, I can show you some of what I’ve been working on after we eat.”

“I’d like that.” I’d like him on my lap again more, but we could start with a tour of his art. And the brownies, which were surprisingly decent for a mix I’d grabbed on sale.

“How’s work been?” Apparently, Stu was in small-talk mode. He had a way of asking questions that made it seem like he truly cared about the answers. “Is this a busy season for you?”

“It can be.” I was going to leave it at that, but Stu leaned forward, intent on listening. “The tourists climbing all over the Gorge, summer sports injuries, and idiots on ladders attempting home repairs all add up. I can’t complain though. I’d rather have a full shift than be bored.”

“I feel that. I don’t like sitting around either.” Stu took a delicate bite of brownie, licking the crumbs off his lip in a motion that went straight to my already over-eager dick. But Stu seemed in no hurry. “Have you always been a paramedic?”

“No, I was a firefighter for years, but I liked getting to put my EMT certification to use on calls with medical emergencies. After my divorce, when I was looking to move, it seemed like an ideal time to try something new.” For all that I liked talking, I tended to keep most conversations surface level, but opening up with Stu felt good, warm and comforting like the brownies. “And honestly, I’m getting older. My back thanks me for less heavy equipment to carry.”

“Getting older sucks.” Stu stretched before taking another bite. “I can’t pull as many all-nighters painting these days, and I have to run twice as far for half the results.”

“You run?” Maybe I needed to look out my windows even more.

“Yeah.” He made a vague gesture with his fork. “Mainly late at night. I’m not a morning person like you.”