Page 55 of Home Grown Talent

“You don’t.”

“You are beautiful, though. There’s no getting away from it.” Owen stroked his thumb over Mason’s cheek again. “You’re also funny and fun to be around, smart and sweet, a little shy, interesting to talk to...”

Mason started to smile, then laughed as the list went on.

“... engaging, professional, generous to your family, warm-hearted…”

“Okay, stop.”

“...and not to mention a talented cook—”

“Hey! Chef.”

Owen grinned. “Chef,” he corrected, waggling his eyebrows. “And you look dead sexy holding a whisk…”

Mason snorted.

“I’m serious!” He looked very serious as he leaned in, lips brushing Mason’s. “There’s nothing sexier than a man who knows what he’s doing.”

“Mmm, well, I won’t argue with that, Mr. Sexy Gardener.”

Owen gave a soft laugh, and he looked so perfect right then, so exactly what Mason wanted, that he added hoarsely, “Angel’s actually my real name.”

Owen blinked. After a stunned moment, he said, “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. I changed it to Mason when I started modelling.”

“Ah… So ‘Mason Nash’ is part of your public persona, then?”

“I suppose.” He’d never really thought about it like that. He’d just wanted to get away from all the stupid jokes, from the boy he’d been at school.

Studying him again, Owen lifted a hand and traced a fingertip over Mason’s face, following the lines of his cheekbone, his eyebrows, his jaw. “Angel,” he mused softly. “Angel Nash. I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s eyes twinkled, teasing. “I mean, it’s not every guy who can say he’s shagging an angel.”

Mason groaned, burying his face in Owen’s shoulder. “And that’s why I changed it.”

“Oh, come on. That was funny.” Owen grinned. “Maybe you should tweet that on Instagram.”

“You don’t tweet on—” Mason began, then broke off, laughing. “Yeah, okay, maybe I will,” he said fondly, reaching up and stealing another kiss. “Maybe I will tweet that on fucking Instagram.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Owen

April

Their debut Weekend Wellness slot was airing on the first Saturday in April, and Aaron was set on throwing a brunch party to celebrate the occasion. Owen had already firmly rejected the offer, partly because he didn’t want a big fuss made over what was, in the end, a ten-minute TV slot, and partly because he and Mason had plans for a small celebration of their own. But when he met up with Aaron and Lewis at Owen’s local, the Bat and Belfry, a few days before the airing, Aaron determinedly made one last-ditch attempt.

“Oh, come on,” he wheedled. “Why not?”

Before Owen could answer, Lewis arrived back at their table with another round of pints and some crisps and peanuts.

To Aaron he said firmly, “Leave him alone.” Then he sat down and turned to look at Owen. “I don’t know what’s got into him with this cooking and entertaining obsession. It’s weird.”

“First,” Aaron said as he reached for his pint, “cooking one meal, then suggesting one brunch almost two months later, is hardly an obsession, and second, I want to do something nice for your brother for his big TV break. What’s wrong with that?”