Foolish Me: The Light in Your Eyes Book 2 - A Spy vs. Spook Spin-off

By Tinnean

Giving up his life as a rent boy for his lover William Matheson is the easiest decision Theo Bascopolis has ever made. This smart, handsome man wants him in spite of his past and promises to love him forever. But that past has left Theo riddled with insecurities, which have a tendency to turn up when he’s at his most vulnerable.
Case in point: things seem to fall apart when Wills goes on an extended assignment and the number of times he contacts Theo is precisely zero. Theo might be willing to believe work is getting in the way, but then a message he receives appears to confirm another betrayal. Well, his heart may be broken, but he’s not dumb enough to hang around waiting for it to get shattered. He leaves town determined to have nothing more to do with Wills.
Wills returns home after an exhausting assignment only to find Theo gone with no explanation. It doesn’t take him long to piece together what’s happened and determine a plan of action. Wills is a man of his word who keeps his promises, and he has no intention of letting the best man he’s ever found walk away from him.
But having been betrayed once, is Theo willing to trust his lover not to break his heart again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tinnean
• Release date: Jun 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463740972

Tinnean

I’ve been writing since the 3rd grade. I was on the staff of my high school magazine, and then... I got married. There was a long interval when raising my kids took preference, although I would scribble sci fi, contemporary, or paranormal stories with very strong heroines. (This was before I discovered m/m. Don’t laugh, I led a very sheltered childhood.)It was with the advent of the family's second computer – the first intimidated everyone – that my writing took off. I discovered 1. Fanfiction; 2. m/m (yes, I know. Finally!); 3. the wonder that is copy and paste. Does anyone remember what typing up a manuscript on a manual typewriter was like? Okay then, nuff said.While I was involved in fandom, I was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. But even then, my original characters would come knocking, to the point I’ve left Jim and Blair, Rodney and John, and even Lyle and Mr. Taggart (Blazing Saddles) behind. I’ve been published by Nazca Plain, JMS Books, Dreamspinner, Wilde City Press, and Less Than Three Press, and now I’m taking the leap into the self-pubbing pool. My novel, Two Lips, Indifferent Red received honorable mention in the 2013 Rainbow Awards, and Home Before Sundown was a 2017 runner-up.Now I reside in SW Florida with my husband and three computers, but I’ll always be a Noo Yawk kinda gal.

Book preview

Chapter 1

I never thought anyone would love me. How could they, when Franky, the one man I’d been certain loved me, had showed me the only thing I had to offer was my youth and my body?

Of course a good many men did love me—physically—but that was because from the time I was fifteen and my father threw me out of the house for being gay, I’d been a rent boy.

And then I’d met William Matheson. Wills…of the ordinary brown suits and nothing special haircuts…someone I shouldn’t have looked at twice.

But I did. Something about his warm, chocolate brown eyes brought my gaze back to him again and again.

I couldn’t say I fell in love with him at first sight…as much as I might have yearned for it, what rent boy would ever believe shit like that?

But I did. I’d asked him to move in with me, hoping but never believing….

And now…Now we were living together.

* * * *

Through too many years—those years when I’d been a rent boy—I’d learned to keep my mouth shut, stifling any curiosity I might have about my clients. Wills wasn’t a client, had never been a client. He was my lover, but…

Old habits die hard.

Oh, I knew Wills was a troubleshooter who dealt with computers, and his company was in DC, but I’d never questioned him about it or about why, on occasion, he carried a gun. He traveled throughout the country, and some of those areas probably weren’t too safe.

Mark Vincent, his boss, worked him like a son of a gun. Weekends, holidays, early morning, late into the night, long weeks away without any or minimal contact….

And that was something else I never questioned.

* * * *

It was Indian summer, and the weather was warm and dry.

We’d been living together since we’d returned to DC from visiting his family on Memorial Day.

For a change Wills had the weekend off. After an early dinner at Raphael’s the evening before and then taking in a concert, where I’d bought him the group’s T-shirt, we’d come home and fucked like bunnies. I was looking forward to a long, lazy Saturday in bed, where eventually we’d do more of the same.

I was drifting in and out of a dream where instead of meeting Franky the day my father had thrown me out, I’d looked up to see Wills standing there, smiling at me and holding out his hand for me to take.

But when I reached out for it, suddenly it was gone—he was gone—and I was alone.

Wills? Wills? I woke up to realize I was alone. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Where was he?

I clambered out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and went looking for him.

I found him standing outside the front door of the apartment he shared with me. He did look good, shirtless, his treasure trail disappearing beneath the waistband of the low slung sweats he himself wore.

I blinked. Wills, what the fuck…? Tucked into the back of his sweatpants was his gun.

Mr. Vincent is grinding his coffee.

Huh? What did that have to do with Wills having his gun on him? I looked past him to where Vince sat on the stairs leading up to his attic apartment he rented from me and offered him a confused smile. How come?

I have no idea. You want to ask him?

I scrubbed my scalp and blinked. It was too freaking early for this. Still…Vince? Why are you grinding coffee on the stairs?

I have a houseguest. I didn’t want the noise to wake him.

Okay. That made sense. I still hadn’t met the man, but Wills had run into him on the stairs once or twice when Vince had been taking him up to the attic apartment. What does he look like, babe? I’d asked, curious as to what kind of man Mark Vincent would actually bring to his own home.

Wills had got that blank look, and then shrugged. Oh, just your average, everyday-looking kind of guy.

Before I could press for more details, like height, weight, age, eye and hair color, and did it seem as if this guy cared about Vince, Wills’s lips had curled into the half grin that made me weak in the knees—I’d always thought that was a bunch of bullshit until the first time he’d turned it on me and my knees had become like jelly—and he’d given me an actual come-hither look and sauntered into the bedroom, lazily stripping off one article of clothing after another. My cock had hardened, my tongue hung out, and I’d forgotten all about Vince’s friend.

Now Vince set aside the grinder, his expression thoughtful. Theo, I need a favor.

You’ve got it. I still felt I owed him for what he’d done for Paul.

Vince claimed he’d had nothing to do with the death of the bastard who’d put Paul in the hospital last spring, but either way Shaw, or whatever the fuck his name really was, was dead, blown up when he’d tried to get into Vince’s apartment, which was why Vince was back here living in the attic apartment that had been his before he’d moved to Forest Heights.

There was also the matter of the fee Paul had been rooked out of. An envelope addressed to him had come in the mail while he was still in the hospital. It contained a cashier’s check for fifteen hundred dollars. I’d had the feeling Vince was behind it, but he’d denied it when I’d asked him, and I’d dropped the subject. If he didn’t want anyone to know he was a sweetheart of a guy, his secret was safe with us.

What can I do for you?

I’ve bought a condo in Aspen Reach. The woman who used to own it liked pink, and—

Jesus! Don’t tell me you bought Delilah Carson’s place. I’d heard through the grapevine it was on the market. I could have talked to the other rent boys and come up with a down payment for it, because Delilah had been well-liked by all of us, but her next of kin were real sleazes. They’d descended like vultures, turned their noses up at her possessions, and put the condo up for sale for three quarters of a million dollars.

But a condo where a vicious murder had been committed? No one seemed to want it, and they’d had to keep dropping the price. I hoped Vince hadn’t been taken to the cleaners.

You’re familiar with it? Vince asked.

"Are you kidding? I was there!" I felt bad when I thought about how Delilah’s life had been snuffed out. She’d deserved better than that.

You were there, babe? Wills had been lounging against the wall, looking amused, but at that, he straightened, his expression abruptly unamused.

Well, we’d tricked with her once or twice, and she called to ask if we’d mind working a threesome with her. I wasn’t thrilled about what I’d done to support myself, but that was part of me. I would never deny it.

When was this? His voice was as cold as the look on his face.

Oh, around the beginning of the year. Maybe a little earlier. So?

Wills spat a curse under his breath. He rarely swore.

I felt my gut clench.

I’d known it was going to happen sooner or later. I’d known it. Living with him was everything I’d always dreamed having a lover—a partner—would be. The sex was great, but it was the little things he did for me…making repairs around the house, bringing home takeout when he knew I didn’t feel like cooking, going grocery shopping with me when I did, rubbing my feet when I complained they hurt…

Having someone this special wasn’t supposed to happen to someone like me, though, someone who, while it turned out I wasn’t a murderer, had spent almost half my life peddling my ass. So I’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It seemed the other shoe had just dropped.

Oh, what? You’re worried I may have been fucked? I wanted to strike back at him for making me believe he didn’t care about what I had done. That was my job, smart guy! But just to set your mind at ease, I wasn’t fucked. That time. I emphasized the fact that other times I had been fucked, and Wills turned pale. That’s right, bleed a little, asshole. The way I was bleeding. I was in her crawl space, and I filmed it. Spike got to fuck this gorgeous babe’s ass while she deep throated Pretty Boy, and the two of them kissed while the john jerked off. Hot stuff, I wanna tell you. I made them a copy. They took it with them, but if you want me to look for the original…You could take it with you on one of your troubleshooting trips out of town and jerk off yourself.

Don’t bother. Just two words, but it was like having a bucket of ice water tossed in my face. Mr. Vincent. He nodded to his boss, then went back into the apartment. I could tell from the way he was walking that he was more than pissed.

Well, what the fuck did he have to be pissed about? And what right did he have to be…to be…

Y’see, Vince? My throat felt clogged with tears. I knew he was living in a dream world. It’s dawning on him what I did, and he can’t deal with it.

You think so?

What else am I to think? I wasn’t going to cry. I wasn’t going to cry.

Bascopolis, her murder was all over the front page of every newspaper in town around the beginning of the year. Vincent sounded impatient. You think maybe he was worried you could have been in her condo at the same time she was killed? That maybe it could have been your body found there as well?

Yeah, but—

You said you were up in the crawl space? How come?

He was a new client. Delilah said she was a little unsure of him. After he left, she laughed and said she felt really silly about at how nervous the set up beforehand had made her, but I could see she was still nervous. I asked her if she wanted me to make copies of the tape. She said yes, and Spike begged me to make one for him and Pretty Boy too. I tore at a cuticle. She was dead before I had the chance to give her the original and the other copies.

Yeah, well—

"Funny thing. I happened to see a picture of him in the Post a couple of weeks later." If I thought about something else, talked about something else, maybe my heart would stop feeling as if it was cracking into bits.

Who, the john?

Yeah. He was with the Pres in the photo, and he had his clothes on, but it was him. I forced myself to laugh. I didn’t want anyone, not even Vince, to know how I was hurting. And y’know what was even funnier?

No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.

I kept laughing. If I stopped…The Pres was commending him for being such a morally upright member of the CIA. The john who liked to wear long red wigs and women’s pink underwear.

Really. For some reason that interested him. Do you happen to remember his name?

No. Sorry. You know I’m not into politics.

What happened to the original tape?

I waved my hand vaguely. It’s around somewhere.

Mind looking for it for me?

Sure. I couldn’t imagine why he wanted it. He’d never struck me as the kind of man who got off on porn, but I’d never questioned the preferences of my clients, and even if Vince wasn’t a client, it was his business.

Thanks. I appreciate it.

Uh… I gnawed on my lip. I couldn’t stand the thought of Wills being willing to wash his hands of me. You really think Wills was worried about me? I should have been embarrassed by the hopefulness in my voice, but this meant too much to me. I…I never even thought of that.

Yeah, well, check with him before you start assuming you know what he’s thinking.

Yeah, you’re right. Had I been that wrong, or was I clutching at straws? Oh, good luck with the condo. It really was pink. Pink walls, pink carpeting, pink everything. I’d never known there were so many different shades of pink.

Thanks. It still is. If you have some time, would you be interested in overseeing the redecorating?

I’d get to choose the colors and arrange all that neat furniture you bought? You bet! Ever since I’d gone to Rockville with him and helped him select the furniture, I’d been itching to get my hands on it. And it would help distract me. I’ll go to Home Depot and pick up some paint chips. Maybe I’ll pick up some power tools too. For Wills.

That should work. He’d loved the jigsaw his father had given him for his birthday a few weeks before. I’d give him a present, and he’d forget all about me having been a rent boy.

See ya, Vince, I tossed over my shoulder as I hurried back into the apartment.

Wills was in the kitchen, fussing with the coffee maker. He refused to meet my eyes.

Here, let me do that before you break it.

He turned away, still not meeting my eyes.

Look, Matheson. I was what I was. I can’t change that. I’d sell my soul if I could. I’m sorry it’s got your shorts in a twist, but… Please don’t leave me.

He spun around and stared at me, and I swallowed hard. There was anguish in his eyes. "D’you…d’you think I care two shits about what you did? What bothers me is how easily you…You could have been killed, Theo. I…I saw—"

The pictures in the newspapers? Yeah. They had been graphic and gruesome. After seeing the first newspaper, I’d thrown it out and refused to allow any of them in the house.

Oh, babe. I’m sorry. I thought… I put my arms around him, and for a long moment he held himself stiffly. But then a massive shudder ran through him, and his arms came around me.

You thought I’d walk out of your life. I won’t. I’m not going anywhere, Theo.

I wanted to ask if he’d promise, but that was stupid, not to mention juvenile. Instead I cleared my throat and asked, What do you want for breakfast?

You know what I really want? I want to go back to bed and pretend I never got out of it because it sounded like a machine gun was going off outside our front door.

We’d seen enough action movies to know what a machine gun sounded like. Okay, then, let’s go. I was having a really good dream too. Maybe I can get it back. I took his hand and led him back into the bedroom.

What was it about?

You.

Yeah? A blush ran from mid-chest up to his hairline. He put his gun away, stripped off his sweatpants, and got back into bed. He patted the spot beside him. Why don’t you tell me about it?

* * * *

Chapter 2

I was putting a fresh supply of lube in Wills’s nightstand when I found them, a small stack of credit cards neatly banded together.

The name on the cards was William Matheson. I realized they were the ones I had given him.

Seeing them reminded me that although all the statements had been paid for the month of August, none of them had the charges for our vacation in Key West.

I went to his office, hovering in the doorway for a moment. It was his office, after all, and I never went in there unless he was there also. Still, I had to know what was going on.

The bottom right drawer of his desk was for hanging files. They were in alphabetical order.

I checked A first, for American Express. There was nothing there. There was nothing under C for credit cards, D for Discover, or M for MasterCard either, but there were a number of bills for different cards under V for Visa.

And there it was. He had paid for everything—the hotel, our meals, the excursions—with his own card.

Son of a bitch. I sank back in the plush chair I’d bought for him. Why hadn’t he used the cards I’d given him? He loved the power drill I’d bought him. He said he liked having me buy things for him.

There was another photo on his desk across from the grainy one of the two of us kissing. The grainy photo must have been taken with a telephoto lens, and I’d had no clue where that had come from. He’d just grinned when I asked, and refused to tell me.

I picked up the new picture frame. This photo was of the two of us at one of Davis House’s happy hours, where the management offered complimentary soda, beer, or wine to its guests. The staff had gone around snapping pictures, and once they were developed, one set went into the hotel’s own gallery, while another set was available for sale in the lobby. Wills had gone down to look at them and had returned with a plastic bag.

This is mine. He’d grinned at me and put it in his suitcase. You go get your own.

We were going snorkeling that day, and when we got back to the room, I was nursing a headache from the sun. I never did get down to the lobby.

In the photo Wills had bought, I was smiling into the camera, but he was looking at me. The expression on his face…

He loved me for who I was, not what I could give him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and put the frame back in its place. Then I shut the file drawer and made sure there was no evidence I’d been snooping.

I went back into the bedroom, took the small stack of credit cards, refastened the rubber band around them, and put them back into the drawer, exactly where I’d found them.

* * * *

Chapter 3

September moved into October, and autumn settled over the Capital.

What’s this? Wills asked when he came home from work one evening. On the console table by the front door was an invitation.

Want to go to a Halloween Ball, babe?

He looked interested. Who’s this Charlemagne?

He was voted Le Roi this year, king of the escorts.

I take it it’s an honor to be invited?

Yeah. The paper was parchment and the invite was stamped in gold leaf. I’d been Le Roi one year myself, and I knew how high the cost of those invitations could run. But that’s not the reason I’d like us to go. I wanted to show him off.

You do want to go? Hmm. I haven’t been to a Halloween party since college. Who will we go as?

You’ll do it?

Sure. As long as nothing comes up with work, it should be fun.

Great!

So, who will we go as? he asked again.

I was thinking of going as Zorro.

Awesome.

But he didn’t tell me what costume he’d be wearing.

I want to give it some thought, okay, babe?

Sure. Just don’t let it go too long. It will be a bitch getting anything decent then, and you’ll wind up wearing a generic costume.

"Like an orange T-shirt that says, Halloween costume? I won’t let it go too long."

And promise you won’t wear those 501s and the tool belt. I’d be fighting ‘em off all night long.

He looked happy. I won’t, I promise. He ran his hand over my hair, then dropped his hands to my waist and pulled me against him. He was hard.

I remembered something his cousin Harry had said when we’d visited the family over the Memorial Day weekend. Do you have a weakness for redheads, Wills?

I have a weakness for this redhead. His eyes were on my lips. He ran his tongue over his lips and leaned toward me. My eyes closed, anticipating his kiss.

The smoke alarm went off.

Shit! We raced into the kitchen. I hope I haven’t burned dinner.

I’ll take you out if you have.

But it turned out I hadn’t.

* * * *

After we’d gone to bed and made love, and just before I fell asleep, I wondered if taking Wills to this Halloween Ball was really a good idea. Charlemagne was a redhead. Suppose Wills….

I fell asleep before the worry could become full-blown.

* * * *

Nothing came up at work, and as Wills had promised, he got home early. He let out a soft wolf whistle when he saw how I was dressed, all in black, from the flat-crowned hat on my head to the knee-high boots on my feet. A sword hung at my waist, a cape hung from my shoulders, and a bullwhip hung from my belt. A silk mask covered my upper face.

God, you look hot enough to eat. I don’t want to muss you now, but later, when we get home…

I’ll hold you to that. Now, go get yourself ready, handsome.

Give me twenty minutes, babe.

Wills never fussed with himself. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth and combed his hair, but never made a big thing of getting ready.

This time he ran over the time limit he’d set for himself, and I wondered what was taking him so long.

Um…Theo, he called from the bedroom. I’m…uh…I’m not sure about this…

Come on out and let me see what you look like. If worse comes to worse, you can wear one of your suits and a pair of shades and go as a Secret Service man.

He gave a choke of laughter. I don’t think so. The Lone Ranger walked out of our bedroom. "I’m sorry, babe. I thought this was a good idea when I picked out the costume, but I didn’t realize these pants would be so…so tight."

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his body. Dressed in pale blue except for the black boots and black mask, he made the perfect foil for my Zorro.

The usual bland suits he wore had to be the reason no one had fucked him before me. Well, it was their loss, and no one was getting a chance at him now.

And Wills was right. His pants appeared to be spray-painted on. The holster belted around his hips framed the discreet bulge of his genitals.

Are you… I cleared my throat. Are you wearing underwear?

If you could call it that. He turned around so I could see his ass. It’s a G-string.

I licked my lips. So I see. It’s a good thing I’ll be armed. Even though he wasn’t wearing those lick me, suck me, fuck me jeans, I’d still be fighting off horny rent boys all night. I pulled out my sword, slashed the air with it, and went forward into a lunge. Then I straightened and put it back in its scabbard.

And you…you don’t mind that I look like this?

I don’t mind, Wills. Not much, at any rate. I tossed my cape over my shoulder, swaggered across the room to him, and pulled him into my arms, running my lips along his jaw. One of my clients had been an undersecretary at the Spanish Embassy, and I breathed Spanish love words into Wills’s ear.

Theo, that’s Spanish!

I thought as Don Diego Vega that would be appropriate.

You thought…. He slid his arms around me and took my mouth in a voracious kiss.

He had a weakness for Spanish love words? I’d have to remember that.

* * * *

The annual Halloween Ball was being held this year at the William Henry Harrison Hotel, down the road from the Madison Arms. The ballroom was smaller, but since it wasn’t a night off for all the boys, the crowd wouldn’t be as great.

When we walked in, the orchestra leader took one look at Wills and signaled his horn section. They began to play the William Tell Overture.

Wills touched the mask over his eyes. Apparently secure his disguise was in place, he grinned and let out a breath. This looks really nice, Theo.

Orange and black draperies hung from the walls and pinned to them were cutouts of bats and black cats, ghosts and caldrons, witches and warlocks.

Excuse me for a minute, babe. He walked off, and I stared after him, enjoying the bunch and flow of the muscles of his ass.

Before I went after him, I was distracted by the approach of an angel. Tall, well-built, blue-eyed, blond…his tunic was blindingly white, and a massive, golden sword hung at his side. An amazing costume, capped by white wings that rose above his head, the feathers tipped with gold. He had to be new to the area because I didn’t recognize him.

"Señor Zorro. He gave a slight bow. I am the Archangel Michael. His majesty would like to see you." He gestured toward where Charlemagne stood, surrounded by his court.

Charlemagne was dressed as the Prince of Darkness, from the pointy little horns on his forehead to the red suede boots on his feet. Who would have thought someone with his hair coloring could carry off all that red?

Wills had just rejoined us. Ranger, this is Michael.

Michael ran his gaze over Wills. I slid an arm around my lover…my lover. This Michael could just find his own.

The archangel gave a faint smile. And your friend, of course.

"Your friend of course what?" Wills was only mildly curious.

A command performance before Le Roi.

Pardon me. Michael gave a slight bow and crossed the floor toward the door. His movements were smooth and graceful.

Babe?

I shook my head and turned to Wills. Time to meet Chuckles. No time like the present to see if Wills was drawn to Le Roi’s red hair. Come on, babe. I’ll introduce you to him.

I was concentrating on his reaction to Charlemagne and failed to notice the werewolf who staggered up to us and threw his arms around me.

I love a man wearin’ a mashk. He planted a slobbering kiss on my mouth. Although it was early in the evening, I could almost get drunk from the alcohol fumes on his breath.

The ballroom was noisy, but I had no trouble hearing the click of a pistol’s hammer being thumbed back.

It might pay for you to remember that the bullets in the Lone Ranger’s gun are silver. Let him go, werewolf. Wills was pointing the gun at the werewolf’s head.

Uh… The werewolf blinked owlishly, staring down the barrel of a Colt .45.

"What don’t you understand about let him go? Find someone else to kiss. Zorro is mine."

I took the werewolf’s arms from around me and stepped away from him, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

Shorry. There’s no need to be shelfish. Jus’ wanted a li’l kish.

Someone get Jay out of here. Charlemagne had approached without any of us realizing it. Well, maybe Wills had. He didn’t seem surprised.

That’s Jay? Oh, my God, I’m gonna be sick.

Want me to shoot him, babe?

Please, not here. Since the new people took over, it was hard enough to persuade the management to let us hold the Halloween Ball here. Charlemagne let his gaze drift over my lover. So, you want to introduce us, Zorro?

This is the Lone Ranger, Mephistopheles. Ranger, this is—

The Devil. Wills holstered his pistol. Your majesty.

I don’t recognize you.

He’s wearing a mask, I growled.

Even with the mask I’m certain I would recognize a body like that. Chuckles leered at him, and a flush ran up Wills’s cheeks and disappeared under his mask.

I clenched my hands into fists. I’d never been so tempted to punch Charlemagne’s perfect nose.

Would you care to spend some time at my table? I’m sure I can interest you in…walking the wild side. After all… He glanced across the room to the entrance, where Michael stood, watching him. …if I can convert an archangel…

No, thanks. I’m here with Zorro.

Charlemagne regarded him thoughtfully. And you go home with the one you came with?

Right.

My mask didn’t conceal my grin. If you’ll excuse us? The orchestra was playing Isn’t It Romantic. Had he gone to ask them to play it? I took Wills’s hand and led him to the dance floor.

I twined the fingers of one hand in his, while I kneaded his hip with the fingers of my other hand and drew him closer, and we began to move across the floor.

* * * *

Wills looked at his wristwatch.

Is it time to go? I asked. We’d agreed to leave a couple of minutes before midnight, just before everyone would unmask. He had work tomorrow.

Yeah. Are you sure you don’t want to stay? You’re having a good time.

Because I’m here with you. Let’s get our goody bags and go say goodnight to Le Roi.

We went back to our table and gathered our bags and my cape, which I’d removed when I’d found it made dancing difficult.

The Prince of Darkness was in earnest conversation with the Archangel Michael. He glanced around at us. You’re not leaving already?

We have to go. The Lone Ranger has to be up bright and early in the morning catching bad guys. I didn’t think it was that funny, but Wills bit back a snicker.

Charlemagne ran his gaze over Wills again, and I wanted to pull out my sword and run him through. Are you sure I can’t interest you in a trick or treat, little boy?

I’ve got my treat, thanks. His arm came around my waist. It was nice meeting you, your majesty. Sir. He nodded to the man dressed as the Archangel.

Bright blessings upon you, William. And you also, Teodore.

Uh…thanks. Good night. That was odd. But then Wills wound his fingers in mine, and I dismissed it.

The doorman hailed us a cab, and we got in and gave the driver our address. It seemed almost no time before the cab was pulling up in front of our house. We got out, and Wills paid him. There hadn’t been a single wrinkle or bulge in his costume—except for his package, and I wondered where he’d kept his wallet.

We climbed the stairs, and I let us into the apartment. Did you have a good time, babe? I yawned, tipped my hat back off my head so that it hung from its thong around my neck, and removed my mask. Wills did the same.

Yeah. Like I’d said, I haven’t been to a Halloween party since college. This was a lot of fun. He frowned. Except for that idiot werewolf who thought he could kiss you. What’s in the goody bags? Candy?

Not exactly. I pulled out the items one by one. Whoever is Le Roi has them put together. Condoms, flavored lube, cock rings, butt plugs…

His lashes hid his eyes for a moment, and he blushed. Would he consider wearing one? Oh, not to work. He was too professional for that, but maybe around the apartment?

…gift certificates for massages or to a hair stylist or restaurant or—

A tie clip? Wills had taken a small jeweler’s box out of his bag and opened it to reveal a black cat arched and hissing above words marked out in diamond chips. 87th annual Halloween Ball. 10/31/02.

Charlemagne always was a show-off. Was Wills impressed by that—

Wow. Eighty-seven years? Who’d have thought they’d be going on for so long?

I blew out a breath. So it wasn’t Chuckles he was impressed by. Nothing stopped them, I said easily, not wanting him to know how insecure I was being. From what I was led to understand, not even the First or Second World Wars, although attendance was sparse during those years.

Makes sense. He closed the box and put it back in his bag. Are we gonna go again next year?

You’d want to go?

Yeah. I mean, I know it’s supposed to be for escorts, but it was fun, and if you don’t have a problem with it…

No problem. Elections for the next Le Roi are in February… And did that get cutthroat. I’ll run it by him, but I’m friendly with most of the boys. No, definitely no problem. It never failed to amaze and surprise, and yes, thrill me—he was looking to the future. I pulled him against me and rubbed my groin against his. Trick or treat, little boy?

* * * *

Chapter 4

Thanksgiving was just around the corner. Vince had been able to get Wills that day off but not the day after, so we wouldn’t be able to spend the holiday with either of our families.

Want to invite the ladies from downstairs to join us?

Why?

Because it’s Thanksgiving?

I sighed. Okay, babe. I didn’t want him to know I was reluctant to have those man-eaters around him. Plus there was Sable, who was French, and a Cordon Bleu-trained cook.

Cool. I’ll go down and ask them.

I’ll go with you. I followed him out of the apartment.

He gave me an amused smile. Think I can’t protect myself?

It was a good thing you weren’t wearing those 501 jeans of yours when you fixed the drain. I saw the way Gus was looking at you.

Oh, yeah? And how was that?

Like you were Red Riding Hood and she was the Big Bad Wolf. Plus she was a redhead.

I can take care of myself, babe.

Yeah, yeah.

We could hear a good deal of bustle going on in the apartment on the second floor. Wills pressed the doorbell.