Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“I wasn’t. I was bringing out a warm hat to a man I care about.”
More than cold caused the red Ian knew now showed on his own cheeks. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Sorry. I’m too sensitive about stuff like this.”
“Well, I doubt I’ll stop doing stuff like this, so I hope it won’t be a problem. I’ve been in a relationship before and I was handsy and caring then, too.” He cleared his throat, looked away a moment, then back. “And I didn’t feel anything close to what I already feel for you, Ian Pierce.”
Heat filled Ian’s chest and he stepped closer. “So, that relationship? What was he like?”
Hollis stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Mark was a big guy with a face that looked like someone had taken a bat to it. He was a boxer. Strictly small-time stuff, but he couldn’t duck for shit. I met him in Georgia and followed him here to Cincinnati. I’m still not entirely sure why because I wasn’t really in love with him. But I did care about him and thought we were exclusive. Turned out we weren’t.”
“He cheated?” The guy had obviously taken too many blows to his brain as well.
Hollis nodded, kneeling when one of the dogs ran up and dropped a stick in front of them. He picked it up, stood, and tossed it, and all three dogs fought to get to it first. “Mark had more trouble keeping his dick in his pants than a toddler who discovered how fun it is to play with that funny thing inside his Pull-ups. Kept saying he’d stop, but he was never about monogamy and had only agreed to try it because he did care about me in his own way.”
“Apparently not enough,” Ian muttered, unable to understand how the man could have been so stupid. “So this guy was big and looked rough. Bigger than you?”
“Yeah. One of those guys who isn’t real pretty but exudes sexuality naturally. I think he did try to make a go of it with me, but he never could stop the chase. He loved the hunt. With us, it had been different. I pursued him.”
The jealousy that crept through Ian then made him turn slightly away in case it showed on his face. From the guy’s description, Ian was surprised Hollis was into him at all. Though he hated being called pretty sometimes, it was a description he’d heard a lot. He glanced up to find the cop watching him as he always did and this time, Ian’s smile was self-deprecating. Worrying about whether Hollis wanted him or not was ridiculous with the way he looked at him—like he could happily devour him. Then there was the way he’d touched Ian the night before. Images of them on that couch filled his mind and the desire and need that hit began to ward off the cold air.
“Are you thinking about last night?” Hollis asked, his voice low and rumbly.
“How do you know I’m thinking about sex?”
“Because when you do, your eyes go dark, your lids do this sexy, hooded thing, and your mouth slightly parts. It’s hot as hell. You look hungry—like I’m made of chocolate. And everyone knows chocolate is the best thing.”
“Is that right?” Ian chuckled. “The best thing?”
“Chocolate is life.”
Ian snorted. “I would have to be interested in someone with a sweet tooth when sweets aren’t really my specialty.”
“Ian, I’ve had nearly every dessert in your restaurant, and I can assure you that’s not true. I had to start working out twice a day eating your food.” Hollis tugged on his beanie again, covering his earlobes.
“I don’t actually do most of the desserts. I have a pastry chef who devotes her time to those. I’m working as an executive chef, but my heart is in sauces. I’m a saucier who likes to have his hand in everything.” Ian looked down when one of the Rottweilers nudged him, and took the stick from his mouth. He tossed it hard, sending it end over end across the yard and into a small mound of snow. “So what is your favorite thing to eat besides chocolate? Chocolate what, by the way?”
“Cake, of course. And brownies and cookies. Candy, too. Pretty much anything chocolate. My mom makes these homemade turtles that I miss constantly.”
“Mom?” Ian turned to him, shivering when a cold wind swept over the yard. “Are you close?”
Hollis nodded. “With both my parents. They’d like nothing better than to have me move back to Georgia.”
Ian held his breath. “Is that a possibility?”
Blue eyes locked with his. “Absolutely not. Not now.”
“But having parents who care…that’s priceless.”
“I have a sister, too. And nieces.”
“Why did you leave Georgia then? Mark?” Ian couldn’t imagine ever leaving nieces. He loved children. Hollis must have cared about Mark more than he was letting on. Jealousy twisted like a knife inside him.