Page 27 of Love by Design (Club Rapture: Risk Aware #1)

There were two bites of egg left on my plate and half a strip of bacon. We both looked down at the leftover food, then I glanced up at him with my fork still in hand. “Am I?”

He licked his lips and smiled at me. “If you want to be.”

I dropped my fork onto the plate. “Then, yes. Thank you.”

He shook his head and stacked my plate on top of his, folding the last bit of my bacon into his mouth. “No, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“I can take those,” I protested, reaching for him as he stood to carry the plates into the kitchen. I hadn’t cleaned up from preparing breakfast yet, and I didn’t want him to see the mess I’d left.

“You’re my submissive, not my servant,” he said, turning on the water. I eyed him nervously, my coffee still in hand, while he rinsed the plates and the pans before arranging it all into the dishwasher and closing the door. “Do you want to stay here today, or do you want to go home?”

The question took the air out of my lungs because, for the briefest, most fleeting moment, I’d forgotten the two were not the same place.

But before I could answer, Marshall spoke again, “You’re more than welcome to stay here, but I’m not sure I want you to be alone.

So if you do, I’d like Lincoln to come over until I’m off work. ”

Another rush of air out of my lungs, tangling in my throat at the impossibility of it all.

“I’d like to stay,” I said.

Marshall scratched his cheek then checked his watch. “Is Lincoln up this early?”

“He’ll answer if I call. ”

“Call him then. I’m going to finish getting ready for work.”

“Yes, Sir,” I mumbled, mostly to his back as he went toward the bedroom. My phone was somewhere in my bag, which I found by the front door where I’d left it. It had enough of a charge on it, and Lincoln answered on the fourth ring.

“M’hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Of course.” He yawned. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, but…I want to stay here today, and he has to go to work. Can you come over?”

Lincoln groaned, and I was so familiar with him, I knew it was the sound he made when he stretched first thing in the morning.

“Am I allowed?”

“He’s the one who told me to call.”

“Yeah,” Lincoln answered. Another yawn. “Can I shower there? Is there coffee?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Kay. Can I stay in pajamas?” he asked.

“You don’t wear pajamas.”

Lincoln chuckled. “Good point. I still have his address from your first date, so I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up, and I took my phone into the bedroom in search of Marshall’s charge cord. I found it and him, standing in the en suite with his fingers in his hair. When it was damp, the gray around his temples was less pronounced, but he was no less sexy.

“Everything settled?” he asked.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “He’s on his way.”

Lincoln arrived in record time, knocking on the door just as Marshall finished tying his shoes. We’d moved from the bedroom into the living room, and he pointed at the couch, indicating I should stay put while he stood up to let Lincoln in. I craned my neck to watch their interaction .

“You must be Lincoln,” Marshall greeted when he opened the door.

I crawled up onto my knees but didn’t have a clear view of the door.

“And you’re Marshall,” Lincoln said back, still sounding tired but somehow also sassy.

“Thank you for coming over.”

There were footsteps in the entryway, the door closed, then both of them were in my sight line.

Lincoln smirked at me, seated on the couch in a too-big pair of sweatpants and not much else.

I didn’t have to explain. I didn’t have to say a word.

Lincoln took one look at me and climbed onto the couch beside me, wrapping me up his arms and pressing a sloppy kiss against my temple.

“Where’s the remote?” he asked Marshall. “I’ve got it from here.”

Marshall huffed out a laugh, pulling open a hidden drawer in the side table and passing Lincoln the remote.

“After your phone is charged, keep it on you,” Marshall said to me.

“Yes, Sir,” I agreed.

“I’ll let you know what Cory says.”

“Thank you.”

Lincoln turned on the TV and immediately started to scroll through channels, spinning his body around so his legs were over the back of the couch and his head was on my lap. I petted my fingers through his hair and smiled up at Marshall, tears threatening to spill again but not from sadness.

I didn’t think I’d ever been so taken care of. So happy.

He must have seen it because he bent down and swiped at my lower lashes before anything was able to escape.

“I—” He closed his mouth and swallowed, steeling himself before going on. “I hope you have a good day, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart,” Lincoln murmured, and I covered his face with my hand. He licked my palm, and I smeared his saliva across his cheek.

“Thank you,” I whispered, because I didn’t know what else to say.

Marshall kept my face in his hold and pressed a very chaste kiss against my mouth.

When he pulled back and stood, there was a look of worry on his face, and I chalked it up to his concern about my recent unemployment and being home alone with Lincoln.

Before I could ask him what was wrong, he schooled his features back into his normal mask of casual dominance and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt.

“I’ll be home by six,” he said. “I expect dinner.”

I grimaced, brow scrunching. Had he forgotten what day it was, or did he not care?

“Yes, Sir, but…”

“But?”

“It’s Friday,” I said, tucking his chin toward his chest. “You see your brothers on Fridays.”

Marshall cursed under his breath.

“Do I get dinner?” Lincoln asked, the question muffled by my hand still covering half his face.

“You can stay if you want,” Marshall told him, cracking his knuckles one at a time.

“I do like, but I can’t. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

“Lincoln,” I warned, throwing my head back and staring up at the ceiling. I hoped he wasn’t going to antagonize Marshall forever because that would get so old, so fast.

“He’s fine,” Marshall assured me, brushing my hair backward and leaving one last kiss against my forehead. “Dinner for you and Lincoln, then. And I’ll be home right after. Relax today, Silas. A new job will be waiting for you soon, I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll relax,” I promised.

“He’ll relax,” Lincoln also promised .

Marshall gave us both one last look like he didn’t want to leave, but not because of trust. Because of longing. Much like he’d cleared his last expression, he shook this one away as well, then grabbed his things and headed out the door.

“He loves you,” Lincoln said, long after the sound of Marshall’s car had faded into the distance.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the protest died in the back of my throat.

Lincoln rolled onto his side and handed me the remote, and neither of us said another word for hours.