Page 29 of Gideon’s Gratitude (Love in Mission City #5)

Chapter Thirteen

Gideon

A wareness came in degrees.

The hand job.

The kiss.

The offer to take care of Lucky.

Okay. So not how I’d thought this morning might go. The clock read nearly nine. I’d slept, with the exception of our little interlude of pleasure, nearly twelve hours.

Gingerly, I rolled out of bed, planting my feet on the ground. My back ached, but not as much as I expected. I stretched experimentally.

Not bad.

I gazed down at my naked body and limp dick.

Not bad.

Nice to know the equipment still works.

I headed for the shower, shivering a little as I went.

I wasn’t sure how long Archer and Lucky would be gone, and I wanted to make a start on breakfast before they got back.

But as much as I longed to hurry, I took a few moments to let the hot spray hit my back.

The relaxation from the orgasm still lingered in me, and contentment seeped into my bones.

The accident had taken so much away from me. At least it hadn’t taken this.

I dried off and wrangled into my jeans and a button down. I tried to style my hair, but the results were questionable. I sat to put on socks, then slid my feet into my slippers.

Need to turn up the heat.

Or turn on the fire. I always felt guilty about either of those options, but getting chilled didn’t serve me in good stead. And I had a guest. Wouldn’t do to have Archer get cold either.

I headed downstairs. I flipped on the gas fireplace, and then pivoted to the kitchen.

In the pantry, I located mix for pancakes.

I snagged everything I needed from the fridge—including the bacon—and set about making the meal.

I flipped the coffeemaker on as I cooked the first round of pancakes.

I could make extra and have them for lunch.

Melodie adored pancakes, and I used to make them with mouse ears.

Maybe again. Someday.

I had no right to be optimistic. Nothing had truly changed from yesterday to today.

Well, except I’d seen Kennedy, and I was within a heartbeat of asking for Archer’s help.

From what I gleaned, the man was one of the best divorce lawyers in Vancouver.

I couldn’t afford him, but he had offered to help for free.

Hope flared within me. Supervised visitation would be okay. Even just a few hours a couple of times a month. I wouldn’t be greedy. I’d do whatever it took to see Melodie and Trevor again .

The smell of burning wafted up. Pay attention. I slid the golden brown, but fortunately not singed, pancakes onto a plate that I put in the oven. I poured the next batch and set about cooking the bacon.

The backdoor opened and shut. Following were the sounds of a leash being unclipped, a jacket being unzipped, boots being removed, and then just general noise. Likely Archer trying to wrangle Lucky and get him rubbed down.

Soon the dog appeared at the entryway to the galley kitchen. He sniffed the air.

“Not for you.”

At the crestfallen expression, I smiled. “I’ll get you some food.” Within moments I had the food scooped, and the dog was digging in.

“That smells great.”

I spun to find Archer leaning against the doorjamb. His blond hair was a little wind-tousled, and his eyes were bright in the morning light.

Last night’s storm was a long-ago memory.

“It’s just pancakes and bacon.”

He advanced toward me with a predatory expression in his eyes.

Oh. I backed up against the sink.

He hesitated.

I nodded.

Apparently taking that as the permission it was, he moved closer. He cupped my cheeks in his large hands and tugged gently.

I angled my head back, and within moments our lips touched. Light, at first.

Then he nibbled on my bottom lip. Demanded entrance.

I complied and opened my mouth.

He took full advantage and thrust his tongue in. Our tongues parried as each fought for dominance .

I wasn’t a pushover, and often gave as good as I got. Again, burning assailed me. I pulled away and lunged for the pan. I yanked it off the burner. Good thing it wasn’t the cast iron my grandmother favored. I flipped the pancakes. Phew, only minor singeing.

Archer surprised me by coming up behind, winding his arms about my waist and pulling me back against him.

Those powerful arms reassured. I smiled, even though he couldn’t see. “Why don’t you set the table while I rescue breakfast?”

The affectionate man brushed a kiss to my ear before releasing me. “Sounds good.” He washed up, then snagged cutlery, plates, and a couple of glasses.

I sorted out the pancakes, bacon, then grabbed syrup and butter. Within a few moments, we settled at the table and dug into our food.

We’d had a couple of bites before he held up a piece of bacon. “I love these when they’re crispy.”

“Limp bacon is kind of gross.” I poked my piece with my fork. “But charbroiled isn’t good either. Some kind of compromise.”

“Well, you compromised brilliantly.”

His praise warmed me. He did that—little compliments. So subtle I might’ve missed them

Except they reminded me of how Leo used to be.

Before.

He’d always been trying to make me feel good about myself. About how I was contributing to the house. How important I was to him. How much he valued me in a way my parents never had.

“Are you okay?”

I blinked. “Fine. Sorry, you were saying…?” Because I had the disconcerting feeling I’d missed something.

“I was just asking if you’d met any of your neighbors. Your grandparents owned this place for a while, right? ”

“They knew just about everyone.” I pointed to his property.

“Old coot is how they referred to him. I never knew if that was in a good way or a bad way. A couple of the houses down the road as well. Some people…” I considered.

“A lot of people who live up here do so to get away from others. They want to keep to themselves.”

“You mean like I’d planned to?” He grinned ruefully. “That didn’t work out so well.” He pressed his hand to mine. “And I’m so glad it didn’t.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Yeah, me too.” I turned my hand so he could grip it. “Why are you asking?”

“I met several of your neighbors this morning while walking Lucky.”

“You took Lucky off the property?”

“Yes. On leash, of course. I would never risk his safety, and I don’t know how fast people drive this stretch. There’s a bend in the road, but that’s not for almost half a mile.”

“True. I suppose it’s okay you took him off the property—I appreciate you put him on a leash. He knows the limits of my place. Well, most of the time. He doesn’t go out.”

“Neither do you.”

I met his gaze. “Whoever you met, they said something.”

“Nothing bad. They were two very friendly guys. Both gay. Both in relationships with other people. Both walking their dogs.”

“Two gay guys live on my street?”

“Well, six gay guys.” He squinted. “So Maddox is a ginger with a beard, and he’s married to Ravi, and they have two-year-old twins.”

“Okay.” Where is he going with this? I’m never going to meet these people.

“Now, the other gentleman’s name was Adam. He lives with his boyfriend Dean. In a castle. ”

I blinked. “You met the guy who lives in the castle? My grandparents told me about that place. How the rich guy moved out and some other guy moved in. They tried to call on him, but…nothing. I think they might’ve met him once, later.

I can’t remember. But Grandpa used to make jokes about living in the south of France. ”

Archer laughed. “You’ll have to tell Adam that. He’ll be amused.”

Before I could respond that would never happen, he kept going.

“And between Maddox and Adam’s houses is Stanley and Justin’s. They have a son and a foster daughter. Total sweethearts.”

Great. More kids. All the more reason to never go out. Seeing other people’s kids, all the while knowing I couldn’t see my own was—to me anyway—torture.

“Stanley is Maddox’s ex-boyfriend and somehow everyone’s now friends.”

I blinked. “Stanley is Maddox the ginger’s ex-boyfriend, and he lives nearby with his husband and everyone’s okay with that?”

“Yep.” Archer stroked my hand one final time before letting go. Immediately, he started cutting his pancake. Pancake that was now lukewarm.

“That was quite a…” I waved my fork around, uncertain of the right word.

“Visit.” Another quick grin. “They were so friendly. I showed them around the new house. You know, Maddox even recognized the architectural influence my, uh, architect used.”

“Oh?” Right, of course this Maddox guy did.

I sure as shit didn’t. All I knew was that the house didn’t look like any one I’d ever seen.

Certainly not in my old neighborhood in Surrey or the townhouse complex where I’d lived with Leo.

Sure, I knew big fancy places were all around Vancouver.

I’d just never looked for them. Looked at them.

Why aspire to something I couldn’t possibly understand or afford ?

Archer’s eyes shone. “Well, I wasn’t specifically thinking about Arthur Erickson, right? Because his style is so distinctive. And well-known. I didn’t want to be accused of having a knockoff. I’m all about originality.” He gazed at me expectantly.

“Right.” Because he seemed to want some sort of a response.

“But Knight, my architect, saw the lot and said inspiration struck. He drew up several facades, but we agreed this one was the right fit. In some ways it’s discordant, right?

The masonry in the forest. But the wood designs felt too…

” He waved his hand around. “On the nose. I like your wood cabin idea, though. The juxtaposition of the two completely different styles somehow accentuates each. Or it will, once the cabin is finished.”