Page 79 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

“Yes…” Jasper grasped Lo’s hand, pausing till he had his breathing under control. “But…I want you to go to Carmel.”

“I—what?”

“All the old photos are there. All of them. I saved the pictures your mother sent of your family…when you were growing up. You’ll see. It’s all there. His personal belongings too…the red sweater he wore every morning to breakfast, the cuff links I bought him for our tenth anniversary, the concert stubs from the jazz festival in Maine. And our photo albums, all of them. There’s a photo of us at that wedding. I would like to see it again. And the sweater. And you should have your mother’s photos. Will you get them?”

Lo and I shared an alarmed look.

“I can send someone,” I volunteered. “That’s no problem. Just tell me where to—”

“No, no. No strangers. Will you go? Would you do that for me?” He gasped for air, wheezing and shaking. “I think he’d like you to have a few of his things.”

“Uh…” I stood abruptly, moving toward the door when he broke into another coughing fit. “One of us should grab Enid or call an ambulance or—”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Enid called out, racing into the room.

I pulled my cell out, poised to call 9-1-1 if necessary.

Which was when I noticed a new message from Janet.

I’m sorry to pass this along tonight, but we’re going to have to address this:

“This” was an email from my asshole brother.

I see you’ve become acquainted with Jasper Gowan. That’s super sweet, but I want to meet him too. Buy me that plane ticket. I know you’re getting my messages, so call me back and let’s set this up. I see what you’re doing, but you’re not freezing me out of Mom’s inheritance. I will fucking sue your ass if you try.

You ever have one of those days where everything comes at you at once? Yeah, this was fun. I clenched my fist and bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood.

Fuck.

14

LORENZO

Tonight had been…disturbing.

I shouldn’t have asked Pierce to make a detour to Mr. Gowan’s house on what should have been a celebratory evening. He hadn’t signed up for a walk down memory lane with a dying man he was just beginning to know. And every time his mother was mentioned, his features twisted as if he were in pain. We should have stuck with Scrabble.

Armed security guards stood vigilantly in the sheltered booth outside the ivy wall of Pierce’s estate, and there might have been a couple of paparazzi’s cars parked under a tree across the street.

Pierce punched in a code to open his front door, pausing to shrug off his tuxedo jacket and set it over my shoulders when he noticed me shivering. I gave a grateful smile and followed him inside, through the dimly lit glass-enclosed hallway, up the stairs, and into his room.

I’d been here so many times now. I knew the lights operated on command. I knew the sheets were always crisp and clean. I knew Pierce slept on the left side of his king-sized mattress and that the lube was in the top drawer of his nightstand next to a huge dildo we’d named Pink Steel.

I knew from the look in his eyes what he was in the mood for. Maybe something fast and rough, like a quick fuck in the shower, over the counter, or on the modern chaise in the corner of his room. Or maybe something slow and sexy. Pierce loved giving long, leisurely blowjobs that might be an erotic appetizer or the main event.

And now, I knew words were a complication he couldn’t deal with at the moment.

He undid his tie and casually unbuttoned his shirt, his gaze fixed on mine. I draped his jacket on the chaise and moved in front of him, pulling his shirt from his trousers while he dealt with his cuffs.

I splayed my palms over his chest, loving the feel of his warm skin. He brushed his bearded jaw over my smooth one and pressed a featherlight kiss on my lips. Next thing I knew, we were in his bed, half-undressed and tangled in a feverish kiss.

He growled as he stood above me, tie undone, shirt open, his erection pressed against his zipper. I kicked my shoes off and finished undressing in a hurry. Any errant thought about doing a sexy striptease flew out the window. I wanted him just like this.

“Keep your tux on,” I practically begged as I unbuttoned and unbuckled, shedding clothing as fast as humanly possible.

I pushed the duvet aside and wiggled out of my trousers. I could have made that wiggle a little sexier, but my cock had been trapped behind a scrap of lace for far too long already. And this was the part I knew he liked best.

“Turn around on your hands and knees. I want to see your ass,” he growled.