A Chip and a Chair (Seven of Spades, #5)(105)
He hadn’t missed a single market since his first, so he’d gotten to know the vendors pretty well. He chatted and joked around with them while he filled his bags with vibrant tomatoes and corn, mouthwatering berries, and the biggest watermelon he’d ever seen.
Though he was certain that at least some of the area’s residents had recognized him right away, they’d been respectful enough to pretend otherwise, and treated him like any other friendly tourist. He and Levi hadn’t been harassed at all.
Once his bags were bulging with produce, he visited his favorite vendor, a young woman who sold gourmet homemade dog treats. He stocked up for Rebel and couldn’t resist a few minutes playing with the vendor’s adorable Schnauzer.
The truck was low on gas, so before heading home, he stopped at a food mart down the road. Because he only had cash, he had to go inside to pay.
Unfortunately, there was a huge display of scratch-off lottery tickets right next to the registers.
He tried not to look at them, but his gaze was dragged back every few seconds. Those tickets were designed to catch the eye and lure people in, with their vivid, dynamic illustrations and peppy fonts screaming things like One Million Now and Big Money. There was no ignoring them.
He rubbed his fingertips together, reliving the sense memory of scraping a coin against the foil. The edge of anticipation as the image beneath was slowly revealed, the thrill of victory when his choice resulted in a winning combination . . .
God, it had been so long. He had thirty bucks left; that was enough for a handful of tickets, if he stuck to the lower-priced ones. The truck could go without gas a little longer, and it wasn’t like the farmer’s market provided receipts he had to furnish as proof of what he’d spent the money on. Levi would never have to know.
That thought was like a sudden electric shock. It gave Dominic just enough self-control to pay for the gas and jog back to his truck, sweat popping out on his forehead. Christ, that had been too close.
By the time he returned to the house, he’d reined in the worst of the craving, though he was still shaken and queasy. Levi, now up and dressed, came out to help bring in the tote bags.
Dominic tried to behave normally, but as they were unpacking the groceries in the kitchen, Levi narrowed his eyes and said, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Dominic opened the refrigerator with a package of wild strawberries in hand. He hesitated, then shut the door with a thump and turned back, still holding the berries. “Actually, no, I’m not.”
Levi gave Dominic his full attention. “What’s wrong?”
“I gassed up the truck on the way back from the market, and I . . .” It was difficult for Dominic to force the words past his fear that Levi would be ashamed of him, or disgusted by his inability to do something as simple as go into a gas station without losing his shit. “I almost spent the last of the cash on lotto scratch-offs.”
“But you didn’t,” Levi said, tilting his head.
“No.”
Levi relieved Dominic of the strawberries, set them on the counter, and smoothed his hands over Dominic’s shoulders. “That must have taken a lot of strength.”
Dominic’s scoff was thick with self-loathing. “Doesn’t feel that way.”
“Well, it looks that way to me.” Levi cradled Dominic’s jaw with one hand. “How are you feeling now?”
“Better.” It was comforting to share the dark turn his morning had taken, and to have Levi respond with calm understanding. His nausea receded.
“Good. Let me know if it gets worse.” Levi kissed him, then met his eyes again. “Thank you for telling me.”
The words rang with sincerity. Dominic pulled him into another, longer kiss, loving every part of him.
They returned to unpacking the bags, falling back into their usual, easy groove. Dominic’s anxiety faded into nothingness.
He would suffer the cravings again, worse than this morning. There was a good chance he’d relapse again at some point. But there was no reason to fear what the future held.
With Levi by his side, he could survive anything.
Levi was reclining on a deck chair in the backyard, reading a book while Dominic and Rebel played in the lake under the afternoon sun. The book was engaging, but he kept being distracted by Dominic’s laughter and Rebel’s joyous barks as they chased each other in and out of the water.
He felt at peace here. The time and privacy to reconnect with nature, Dominic, and his own soul was having a healing effect, stitching up his psychological wounds one by one.
Though he’d worried that he would second-guess his decision to sell his life rights, he hadn’t felt a moment of regret. No matter what he did, there would be unauthorized books and Lifetime movies made about his relationship with the Seven of Spades. Now there would be at least one version of the story out there created with his endorsement, as one of the contract stipulations gave him final right of approval on every element of production.
Darla, the agent who’d approached him with the offer-a lesbian herself-had also made a passionate case for him and Dominic being positive gay role models who needed their story told the right way. That had hit home with Levi, who remembered thinking as a kid that a gay man could never be a detective. So, no, he didn’t regret his decision.
After all, that money had made this summer possible.
Rebel, soaking wet, bounded over to Levi’s chair with the stick she and Dominic had been tussling over. Seeing the glint in her eyes, Levi hastily cast his book aside and held up his hands.