Order (Tattoos and Ties Duet #2)(91)
Key’s hand went to Alec’s cheek, his thumb moved slowly back and forth across his skin, his loving gaze never left Alec’s.
“Kiss me, then go back and finish the bike. It’s Sunday and we have a lot of leftovers to eat. I googled all the ways to use that turkey meat. I guess a fifteen-pound turkey was probably too big for the three of us.”
“My old man hated me, and there was never any denyin’ it. Told me so every day of my life. Your family’s so much worse, because they treat you differently in public, like they’re truly proud of you and that has to give you false hope that their act could possibly be real.”
“You’re a wise man. I know this is real,” Alec explained, cupping Key’s hand still at his cheek. “We’ve got enough going on right now that my emotional plate is full—full of you and this guy. Now, tell me you love me.”
Key rolled his eyes and removed his hand, giving him a quick kiss before stepping away. “I figured I’d say it once, you’d know, and it would be over. So why am I sayin’ it like every hour of every day,” he teased, going back for the bike.
“Because I waited so long to hear it.”
“Then record me, so I can stop sayin’ it and you can keep remindin’ yourself,” Key replied, his voice laced with humor as he started working again.
“I know you’re teasing, but that’s a good idea just in case you need reminding.” He flipped Nash over in his arms, and the puppy wasted no time in attacking his hand again as he scooted off the stool. “I’m taking him out then warming up leftovers if you’re not too sick of them.” Four days of eating the same thing every day was getting a bit boring.
“Bring your work into the livin’ room. We can watch a movie. Your pick,” Key offered.
“Wow, I get to pick? You must really feel bad for me. What if I make you watch the history of the sewing machine?” Alec teased at the garage door.
“Then the plan might alter,” Key said distractedly, his whole concentration back on the bike.
“Let’s go do your thing, Nash,” Alec said, stepping out into the cool evening. He refused to get emotionally down about his family. This was for the best. If they hadn’t liked him before, wait until they saw him now. That made him smile as he rubbed Nash’s head and set him on the ground.
Keyes reached for the remote, pointing the control at the television while pressing the power button. Wincing as he took a seat on the sofa, the thin material of his well-worn T-shirt offered little comfort for his still tender back against the leather. It had been a few days since he’d gotten the new tattoo and the son-of-a-bitch was starting to itch and bugged the shit out of him.
Alec had sent one cryptic text message a couple of hours ago about being late due to a work emergency. His mister had worried over Nash being home alone for so long. Keyes didn’t bother teasing Alec about being overprotective. They both seemed to take Nash’s potty training and loneliness seriously. Keyes found no other solution except to bail on work. So he’d rushed straight home to watch over their little guy.
Keyes flipped channels, searching the local news stations on Alec’s five million channel television. Nash, who played rambunctiously on the sofa nearby, barked. He cut his gaze to see the puppy facing off with him, trying to gain his attention. He was a stinker, one Keyes found hard to ignore.
“You talkin’ to me? You wanna be a badass, huh?” Keyes dropped his hand to the sofa cushion, wiggling his fingers to play the hand-monster game. Nash willingly played this particular game for hours on end. When the puppy almost backed himself straight off the edge of the cushion, Keyes kicked up a leg to keep Nash from falling. The little ball of energy didn’t seem to notice he’d just been saved from a tumble and continued the attack on his hand.
“Ouch!” Keyes yelped, spinning Nash a different direction while keeping his fingers away from the pup’s mouth. “Your little teeth are sharp.”
The fearless Nash was back in attack mode, yapping at him to keep up the action and stay in the game. He was so damn lost to this life. If he had worked a solid eight-hour day in months, that’d be a damn shock. Just the drive time to and from home fucked up his work schedule before he ever did things like sit for a tattoo all fucking day long or rush home because a puppy needed to be let out.
“Maybe you need to come to work with me some of the time,” he suggested to the growling puppy. He flipped Nash to his back, keeping him caged in and squirming. The little pup calmed as Keyes rubbed his belly.
“After the surprising turn, you see Dallas ADA, Alec Pierce, exiting the courthouse. He doesn’t look happy, Tom.” At the mention of Alec’s name, Keyes lifted his gaze back to the screen and pointed a finger toward the television.
“See your daddy?” he asked Nash.
Keyes’s heart clenched and sort of dropped just staring at Alec. He was such a fine-looking guy, all polished and sophisticated in his snug-fitting suit—that visual never got old. Keyes read the bottom of the screen, trying to catch up on what was going on and why his gorgeous guy was on TV.
“Donald Cummings released today” was the caption running along the bottom of the screen. The cameraman zoomed in on Alec and the woman walking by his side. Alec looked angry and tense, his head slightly bent as he blatantly ignored the news team covering him so closely. He spoke to the woman beside him, who wore the same expression. They both moved past the waiting press, refusing to speak with any of them.