Page 70 of Slow Heat

“But not badly,” Vale reiterated. “It’ll be fine, though probably still tender, by tomorrow morning.”

Jason lowered the ice pack down on Vale’s ankle and then touched his cold fingers to Vale’s cheek. Their eyes held and Vale’s mouth opened, a soft sound escaping. It zipped up Jason’s back, and his lips turn up in a small, smug way.

Jason pulled his hand back and turned to the rest of the men in the room. “I’m sorry I was late.”

“Not a problem,” Yosef said, coming around the table with his arms out. “Why don’t you give me your suit coat, too? I’ll put it with your other. You’ll be more comfortable. Our little group doesn’t engage in much formality.”

Urho handed Jason a cup of hot tea enlivened with traditional Autumn Nights spices. He sipped it softly, letting it soothe his throat and keep his mouth busy so he didn’t have to talk. He stood near Vale but not too close, taking in the lay of the land.

The room was sparsely decorated for Autumn Nights. A centerpiece had been made from a fat candle of sweet beeswax, several gourds and a small pumpkin, along with a handful of mint clippings from the garden. Nothing like the ornaments Jason’s pater decorated with, and nothing like the massive centerpiece the Sabels ordered from Sanz’s Floral if they were entertaining. It was rustic in comparison, but everyone’s tastes were different. He liked Vale’s simplicity.

Jason hoped he might get another peak at the garden again before he left, so he’d have a better idea of what to plan for it. But with sunset coming earlier and earlier as the year aged, he doubted he’d get that chance. Not unless they finished dinner in a hurry.

“How was your day?” Vale asked.

It was better than being asked outright about school in front of Vale’s friends, but it was too close for comfort, too. “It was all right. You’re growing a beard?”

Vale’s fingers rubbed over his chin, releasing a scent into the air that went right to Jason’s dick, making it tingle and threaten to engorge. “Shaving was part of my routine for going into work. Now that I’m on this extended sabbatical”—the sarcasm was light but still evident—“I seem to have let it go. I noticed it for the first time tonight when I was dressing and decided it didn’t look half bad.”

“I like it,” Jason said, licking his lips. “It suits you.”

Urho chuckled. “It remindsmeof the camping trip we took last year. You came home exhausted, bedraggled, and bearded.”

Vale sent Urho a small glare and then said, “Perhaps lay off the wine, Urho.”

“Why? I’ve only had a glass and a half.”

“Because I said so.”

Yosef clucked, and Urho raised an eyebrow but put his wine glass down. Vale turned to Yosef and Rosen, asking, “What grooming products do you recommend? You’ve both had beards for years now and they always look so well-kept.”

Yosef launched into a discussion of trimmers and beard oils that Jason didn’t imagined he’d need to know much about anytime soon, since he could still get away with shaving every third day if he wanted. Leaving his tea on the table, he decided to put himself to use rather than stand around gaping at Vale’s beauty. He crossed to Rosen as the other three began a quarrel over whether chypre or aromatic scented oils were better in a beard. That was yet another subject he wasn’t versed enough in to offer an opinion.

“May I help with something?” he offered. “I’m happy to chop or wash. Whatever you need.”

Rosen lifted a brow, considering, and then shoved four onions his way. “All right. Have at it. Let’s see how pretty you are when you cry.”

Jason took the knife Rosen offered and began to dice the onions.

“Were your parents reluctant to let you come tonight?” Rosen asked, smiling.

Jason shrugged. “They had their concerns, but Vale had reassured them. And they trust me.” Mostly. Sometimes. Not enough to live on campus, but enough to let him come tonight. “They know I want what’s best for Vale, and they know that I won’t be able to make good choices during negotiations if we aren’t allowed time together to be our real selves.”

“Wise of them.”

“My parents are good people.”

“Their reputation precedes them,” Rosen said with a smile. “But really, what is ‘good’? Not that I doubt your parents are, but don’t you ever wonder what makes a person or a thing ‘good’?”

“Philosophy professor, right?” Jason said, smiling. “Sorry, but I’m out of school for the long holiday weekend.”

Rosen laughed. “We can continue this conversation on Monday then.”

Jason chopped the onions and soon his eyes watered freely. He let them flow and didn’t stop until he had reduced all four white globes to a pile of tiny beautiful squares.

“Lovely,” Rosen said when he was done. “And prettier than Vale when he tries to chop onions. He goes all red and snotty, usually ends up wiping onion juice in his eye, which becomes a calamity of epic proportions. Then I burn something helping him wash it out, and Yosef snacks on whatever vegetables I’ve brought along and watches the show.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” Jason said.