On the Clock (Market Garden, #8)(48)

“Still. This was supposed to be . . .” Jason’s brow furrowed. His eyes flicked toward Blake. “What was this supposed to be?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I was going to show you around New York City.”

“And I’m sure you were expecting a bit more from me.” He lifted his cup. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take a sickie.”

“Don’t worry about it. We can kick back and watch movies for all I care.”

“I know, but . . .” Jason’s shoulders dropped. “I feel terrible.”

“Of course you do. You have the flu.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. And really, don’t worry about it. It’s nice having you here, even if we’re not f*cking every five minutes.”

Jason met his eyes, skepticism etched across his forehead.

Blake put his cup down and stepped closer. He wrapped his arm around Jason’s waist, but Jason recoiled, putting a hand on his chest to keep them apart.

“You’re going to catch what I have.”

“If I’m going to get it, I’ve already got it.”

Jason held his gaze, then lowered his hand and let himself be pulled into a gentle embrace. He rested his head against Blake’s shoulder. “If you want to go to work instead of burning your holidays like this, it’s fine. I can set myself up in front of the telly.”

“No, it’s all right.” Blake kissed Jason’s forehead. “I’d rather stay here with you.”

“Even when I’m—”

“Yes. Even then.” He smiled, releasing Jason. “If they need me at work, I can sign on remotely and get a few things done, and I might have to take a call now and then. But this is perfectly fine.”

Jason sighed. “Still, I’m sorry. You didn’t bring me all the way across an ocean to make me soup and watch movies.”

Blake smiled. “Well, you did say you spent a week feeding a client chicken soup.”

“Sure, when he was ill. I’m meant to be here as your entertainment, not—”

“You’re not here as my entertainment.”

“You could’ve taken anyone into New York. It didn’t have to be me.” Jason’s eyebrow arched. “Honestly, why am I here?”

“Because . . .” That’s a good question isn’t it? “You wanted to be here, right?”

Jason nodded. “Yes, but that wasn’t my question.”

Blake swallowed. “I didn’t bring you here to perform at my whim.”

Holding his gaze, Jason asked, “Then why did you bring me here?”

Yeah, Blake. Why did you?

He cleared his throat. “You said yourself you sometimes work as an escort, right? For guys who don’t want to be alone.”

“Yeah.”

Blake shrugged. “Maybe that’s all this is. I wanted some company. And even if this isn’t how we both planned it, I’m not complaining.”

Jason swallowed, and grimaced, rubbing his throat gingerly. “Well, I am. This virus thing is bullshit.”

“No kidding. You know, since you don’t mind spicy food, my mother has a recipe that’s good for the throat and clearing out the sinuses.” Blake drummed his fingers on the counter. “Damn it, I can’t remember the whole recipe. I should call her.”

Jason chuckled. “You’re not going to tell your mum you’re nursing an ill rentboy back to health, are you?”

Blake laughed. “I don’t know that she’d be surprised, but . . .”

Jason’s eyes were suddenly huge. “She knows? That you, uh . . .”

“God, I hope not. But considering how long it’s been since I’ve had a boyfriend, I’m sure she’d prefer a rentboy habit over working myself to death.”

“A rentboy habit?” Jason laughed, punctuating it with that deep cough. “You make it sound like I’m a hit of crack.”

“Well, maybe not crack . . .” But it was an oddly fitting description, wasn’t it? “Anyway. About that recipe. In the mood for something spicy?”

“There isn’t much I won’t eat at this point if it means I can f*cking breathe.”

“In that case, let me make a phone call . . .”



One long call, a trip to the grocery store, and an hour of prep work later, and the kitchen smelled like every breed of chili imaginable. Blake ladled the steaming soup into two large bowls.

Jason gestured at the second bowl. “You’re having it too?”

“Damn right I am. If there’s even a chance I’m going to get what you’ve got, maybe I can scare the microbe away before it sets in.”

Jason glanced at the bowl, then at Blake. “Exactly how spicy is this?”

“Only one way to find out.” He winked. “And for the record, sick or not, I do like it. So no, you don’t get it all.”

“Fine.” Jason clicked his tongue. “And here I thought you’d gone to so much trouble strictly on my behalf.”

“To be fair, I did offer to take you to the doctor. If you knew how much I hate doctor’s offices, you’d understand how altruistic that was.”