Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(34)

“Okay. I’ll bring it.”

“Thanks.”

Doyle found his swim trunks and grabbed his toybag on the way out. After getting the door rolled down and locking it, he hefted the bag and started back toward the elevator, Mevi trailing close behind.

He loaded the bag into the back hatch and as he closed the hatch he hoped he hadn’t just f*cked up big time.

He also hoped he wasn’t doing this because now that he knew Mevi was gay, it meant his fantasies were far more realistic than he’d ever thought they could be.

And his cock was struggling to get hard over that.

That was definitely an ethical line he refused to cross.





Chapter Twelve


They stopped at a Publix on the way to Tilly’s. Doyle left Mevi in the car with it running for the AC, trusting the man wouldn’t run.

Not now.

While in the store, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Tate.

Awright, mate. Tell me you’re free. Please? I trust you. I don’t want anyone else near her. NAME your price!

It didn’t matter if it was a tempting offer or not.

He wouldn’t abandon a client.

Especially not Mevi.

And especially not now.

Sorry, can’t.

BOLLOCKS! Tell them to piss off, that you have a desperate man willing to pay you a million POUNDS to fly over!

Tate had a flair for the melodramatic sometimes.

I thought she was still in rehab?

She is but I want YOU already in place with her.

I can’t. I’ll let you know when my contract ends. If you still need me, we can discuss terms then.

He ignored Tate’s next text, shoving the phone into his pocket. If he let him, Tate would drag this out for hours, trying to wear him down like he was some studio executive or something.

He liked Tate, but he wouldn’t give in.

When they arrived at Tilly’s, he carried in the cherry pie and ice cream he’d brought. Tilly greeted them both with hugs and smiles, nothing in her demeanor to indicate the sadistically vicious Domme or tenacious production assistant she was.

And while he knew the significance of the fluorite pendant she wore around her neck, Mevi wouldn’t.

Doyle introduced him. “This is Mal Maynard,” he said. “Mal, Tilly Cardinal LaCroux.”

Landry appeared in the entry, their daughter in his arms. “Ah, Doyle.”

Mevi’s eyes widened. “You were with Doyle that night.”

Landry smiled. “Yes. Oh, Doyle, your car is safe in our parking garage at our condo out there. If you need to pick it up and we aren’t there, Leigh has the keys at the office. I can have her deliver them to our building’s front desk to hold for you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Cris walked up. While he wore a bracelet that Doyle knew was the man’s day collar, nothing else would give away their kinky status to Mevi.

“Hey. Cris Guerrero. Nice to meet you, Mal.”





Mevi actually liked being called Mal.

He liked even more how these people, who obviously knew who he was, were treating him like any other person.

As they made their way into the eat-in kitchen, where a table was set for dinner, he got a whiff of something delicious. “What’s for dinner?”

“Well, steaks on the grill,” Landry said, “but that’s one of our side dishes. Broccoli casserole.”

As they settled in and Tilly offered them non-alcoholic drink choices, Mevi realized this felt…

Average.

Not in a bad way, either.

“I know you guys know who I am, so if you want to ask anything, feel free.”

Tilly shrugged. “We figured you needed a break from your job.”

“And can I give you another hug?”

She glanced at Landry, looking a little confused, but she opened her arms to him. “Sure. Why?”

He hugged her, savoring the contact, glad to know he didn’t have to worry about paparazzi pics appearing and people speculating if she was a new love interest or crazy fan.

“Thank you for telling Clark about Doyle.”

She smiled as she stared at Doyle. “I’ve known D for years.” She playfully poked the man’s shoulder. “He’s a good guy. When Clark told me what he was looking for, I was hoping he was available. Even though he hasn’t been around lately. Rat bastard.”

“Language, love,” Landry lightly scolded.

Tilly clapped a hand over her mouth. “Whoops. KC’s going to be swearing up a storm by the time she’s two.” Tilly dropped her hand. “And no worries. You don’t need permissions to hug me.” She laughed. “I’m sure Lan and Cris won’t mind.”

“Permissions?”

“Yeah, because—hey, let’s get those steaks on.” She pivoted on her heel and rushed over to where the tray of them sat on the counter.

Landry and Cris stood frozen, as did Doyle.

Only KC seemed oblivious.

Then, it clicked.

He didn’t want to say it out loud in front of the baby, though.

“I think I need to go change KC,” Lan said.

“I’ll help you,” Cris volunteered.

But from the way Doyle started rubbing at his temples, Mevi knew it. Then, Doyle walked over and reached for KC.