that was never that far away when Jacob was around. “I’ll feed you. We’ll get to the other.”
“I don’t want to keep taking your food,” Jacob protested even as he followed Linc toward the kitchen.
“Sorry. Pizza won’t deliver this far out, and I’m hungry. You can cope with your guilt by helping me cook.” Both dogs followed along to the kitchen, undoubtedly sensing that human food was in the offing. After washing his hands and getting his clothes back to rights, he turned back to Jacob. “You wanna start by helping feed these beasts?”
“Sure.” Jacob threw a few toys for them while Linc changed out the water and set out the chow.
“Go get it! Come on! You can do it!” Jacob’s laughter filled the crisp spring air. He was so good at being playful with the dogs, and they ate it up, chasing down the toys and dancing around in front of him. As he watched them, Linc’s chest grew uncomfortably tight. He was used to the bolts of lust where Jacob was concerned, but these other, softer emotions always took him by surprise, made him simultaneously want to run but also to wrap the moment up, tuck it away in his memory banks.
Back in the kitchen, Jacob helped him decide on hash—homegrown potatoes from his bin, onions, leftover meat and some of the eggs. It felt way too cozy, cooking for two, Jacob taking his directions on chopping, hips and shoulders bumping in the small kitchen, dogs still making pests of themselves as the two of them worked and talked food, him giving Jacob ideas for easy suppers and Jacob waxing poetic about the diner food he didn’t often allow himself.
It felt suspiciously like a date, not that Linc had had a ton of those. They were supposed to be fucking. Not dating. But as with the night before, feeding him felt...right. Talking together was almost as good as fucking, simply hanging out together, doing what he’d denied himself anything other than small tastes for years. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, maybe he needed these quieter moments too.
“So...” Jacob paused as he set the plates on the breakfast bar. “If I show up to run on Sunday...you gonna kick me to the curb?”
“You want to work out together?” That too sounded rather date-like and not like the purely physical affair he’d been intending, but he couldn’t deny the way his pulse hopped at the mere thought of more time like this.
“You made the invitation. In public. No one will think anything of it if they see us out jogging. And what we do back here when we’re cleaning up...well, I figure that’s just between us.”
As he took the seat next to him, an image of Jacob in the large shower in the renovated master bath crept into Linc’s brain and took hold, water dripping down Jacob’s muscles as Linc licked... Yeah. That. He had to shift on his stool, force himself to think of other things.
“Yeah. We can do that,” he said gruffly, more turned on than hungry now, cock overriding brain yet again. Body liking the idea of having both—time together and sex, the full package he wasn’t supposed to want, but hell if he could stop the warmth coursing through him. “The pack-out test is coming. You’ll want to do some weights in addition to the run.”
“Right. And your setup is more convenient than my gym in town.” Jacob gave him a wink that he felt all the way to his balls, new set of images flooding his brain of a shirtless Jacob lifting and straining.
“You’re welcome to it.” Shaking his head free of the distracting visions, he tried to focus on the food. But Jacob ate like he kissed—full of gusto, lots of approving noises and pleased sounds that had sex right back on Linc’s brain.
“This is really good. How’d you get so good at cooking anyway?”
“Self-preservation.” Linc took a bite and swallowed before continuing. “After Mom died, it was all crap food around here all the time, and that’s when there was food, when Dad could be bothered to get to the store. Sometimes Victor would make me something easy—grilled cheese, pancakes, spaghetti—when he could be troubled,