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Phoenix, without an ounce of artifice, confessed.

“I’ve worked since I was fourteen. After school and during the summer, I interned in my father’s real estate office doing everything but selling properties. At eighteen, I earned my license, which I didn’t want. But after forty hours of courses, passing an exam, filing for approval from the board, passing another exam to become a salesperson, and then having my father, who tried to teach me everything he knew about being a sleaze bag, sponsor me, I was a certified realtor. I have no issues with the profession, just my father.

“Anyway, from my last name alone, I snagged high-paying clients. All I focused on was my dream of owning my bakery and didn’t think about the other agents who dealt with the cheaper properties, making meager commissions in comparison, but I did as soon as I quit.”

He sounded miserable as he took on guilt that wasn’t his to carry. Finding no words to express that opinion, I sat there, feeling helpless to combat Phoenix’s distress. I squeezed his hand as Luka pulled him against his chest. Phoenix buried his face against Luka’s solid form and stroked his thumb against my sensitive palm before he continued.

“To save everything I earned, I worked nights and weekends. It didn’t matter. Of course, my father thought I inherited my talent and drive from him, but it was desperation, not a great work ethic on my part. By the time I was twenty, I bordered on collapse from exhaustion from both working myself to death and the constant criticism day in and day out, so I used my years of stable employment along with the down payment I scraped together and asked for a business loan. With the last name of Aalto, it was another advantage for no other reason than reputation. Guilt swamped me for five-seconds after they approved the loan until I realized I’d own my business to shape and decorate and build up my way. And it had nothing to do with Hale fucking Aalto.”

Luka met my eyes, and by his expression, the revelation startled him, too. I’d wondered why Hale chose an out of the way bakery for their contract negotiations, but the reason didn’t matter the moment we spotted Phoenix. During the meeting, we bristled each time Hale denigrated the welcoming and unique bakery, but thought nothing more about the man once he left with the signed contracts.

“Why did you both freeze? Is it because of my father?”

I nodded.

The younger man shrugged and asked, “Remember I said I sensed you each time you came in for a visit?”

“Yeah?”

“I spotted you sitting with him that day. It’s a passive aggressive move on his part to do business in the corner of my bakery while ordering nothing and making snarky, hurtful comments to my staff. They all know who he is and ignore him. Or try to. Arthur takes great pride when he gets to wait on him, but instead of the passive-aggressive shit, he makes direct comments about what a terrible father he is until the man huffs out in a snit.”

Phoenix was ours now, and we’d do whatever it took to keep our man happy. Yes, I knew it was too early to declare ourselves in a relationship after we started getting to know him only hours before, but I shrugged off the technicality.

Luka said, “We’re the only landscaping business he hires. But with every new commercial property he wants to sell, he’ll make us jump through hoops in order to get the contract. The less said about the man, the better.”

“True. So. You were telling me about our relationship? Burton mentioned naked times, so… this will lead to sex eventually, right?”

“Fuck!”

CHAPTER 4

PHOENIX

During the week,my alarm, which tried hard in the mornings to wake me with annoying reminders at five-minute increments, was silent when I blinked my eyes open at four something in the morning. I was guessing at the time because when I woke, almost complete darkness surrounded me despite blinking several times.

And I had no clue where I was.

Not quite awake, I sucked in a sharp breath and noticed the scent surrounding me wasn’t unfamiliar, but also not my own. Then came the realization that the bed wasfarmore comfortable than the double I slept in most nights. But it was the blackness of the room that was a dead giveaway. When I slept at home, I lifted my blinds and left my semi-sheer floral curtains closed, letting in the moonlight.

When I lifted my head off the luxurious pillow, my eyes searched around the space. I found and then squinted at the dim white numbers. When they registered in my groggy brain, I remembered the clock on a nightstand when they tucked me into bed the night before. I groaned at the confirmation of my estimation of the early hour before flopping back down and sinking into the lush mattress.

Unsurprised by how comfortable I felt in a strange place, I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes with every intention of falling back to sleep, but the bed shifted and my bladder made itself known.

Fuck a duck sideways on a pogo stick!

I sat up, squinting as I glanced around the room, the light from the clock providing no proper direction. A huff escaped as I struggled, searching for a way out of the blankets and the warmth encompassing me, which doubled my irritation.

As soon as I succeeded in my escape, a muscled, hairy arm wrapped around my torso and hauled me back against a solid, fuzzy chest.

Then I heard a whisper, which made my dick perk up.

“Where are you going, Sunshine?”

“Cheese and crackers! You can’t use that deep rumble of a sleep-laden voice on me when my… never you mind. Can you point me toward the bathroom? Or better yet, push me in the right direction and with a bit of luck, I’ll stumble into the actual door,” I whisper yelled.

“It’s not that dark.”

“How many fingers are in front of your face?” I paused for a moment. “The answer is none because it takes effort to wave my hand around and I’m concentrating on not peeing myself! Besides, you couldn’t see them anyway because of the inherent absence of any light in this room! So, can you point out the bathroom, please?”