“Well, we do the technical side of it, but you could have—”
“Trust me. I can’t.” He gazed around. “No, this was designed by an old friend before he retired. I couldn’t settle on one style for the whole thing, so I basically told him what styles I did and didn’t like, and let him go to town on it. Every room is different, but he made sure the styles segue into each other, or at least they have fairly plain hallways in between so nothing clashes.” He paused. “I’d finally give you the tour, but I just put dinner in the oven. In fact, I should probably check on it.”
“Sure.”
We moved into the kitchen, where something savory was cooking. The air was warm and filled with the smells of spices and a touch of garlic.
“You’ve been busy,” I said. “And your kitchen is spotless. What the hell?”
Rick laughed. “That’s because I hate doing dishes, and if I don’t do them as I go, they’ll never get done.”
“Smart.”
He checked on the food—which smelled even more amazing when he opened the oven—and set the timer for another half hour. While the food cooked, he poured us each a glass of wine, and we moved into his living room.
“I’ll give you a tour eventually,” he said. “Promise. But you look like you could stand to relax for a while.”
“I won’t argue with that.” As we sank onto the huge, plush sofa, I said, “So, did you have anything to do with my colleague and me getting booted out of work yesterday?”
He started to speak but hesitated. “Was that out of line?”
I rolled it around in my head for a second. In theory, it was more forward than I liked; I didn’t need someone rescuing me from my own workload. On the other hand, though, it meant I was here with him instead of hunched over a miniature hotel and inhaling glue fumes.
“No, it wasn’t out of line. I’m only your Dom in the bedroom.” I brought my wine to my lips and added, “I’m hardly going to bitch about you getting me a forty-eight-hour vacation.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Okay. Good. I didn’t do much, really. I just sort of put the bug in Mitchell’s ear that it seemed like the two of you were putting in a lot of hours.” He shrugged. “Made some noise about how the human body could only take so much, and fatigue might lead to shoddy workmanship, and…” He waved a hand. “I guess he got the message.”
Laughing, I put my wineglass down and wrapped my arms around him. “Damn. I should’ve hooked up with you sooner.”
“Why?” He smirked. “So I could get you some days off?”
“Well, you know. Every relationship has its perks, right?”
“Though it benefits me too.”
“Still. You got me out of Purgatory.” I kissed his cheek. “I’ll make it worth your while. Promise.”
“You always do.” He touched my face, and his expression turned a little more serious. “And I know you’re exhausted. I don’t expect anything tonight. I just wanted you out of there. And I wanted to see you.”
I hooked a finger under his chin, turned him toward me and kissed his lips. “I wanted to see you too.”
“Can’t promise I’ll be as entertaining as the people you work with. Sounds like you all keep each other on your toes.”
“You could say that. But I’ll take your brand of entertainment over theirs any day.”
We both grinned.
“Seriously, though.” I gestured around the room. “This place versus a room full of tables and computers? Fuck yeah.”
“I kind of prefer it over my office too, believe me.” He sipped his wine. “Especially when I’ve been spending too much time there.” He looked around. “It’s funny. This place is definitely home now, but I never imagined living in a place like this. It’s, um, a bit different from where I started, that’s for sure.”
“Is it?”
Rick nodded. “One of the ways I knew I’d really made it was when I was able to buy my mom a new house so she could move out of the double-wide she raised us in.”
“Oh wow. So you really moved up in the world.”
He nodded. “Nothing motivates a kid to find a good living like spending his childhood hearing about what trailer trash he is.”
“Ouch.”
“It is what it is.” He shrugged. “My mom worked hard, and she bought what she could afford. Anything more than that would’ve meant working three jobs instead of two, and she didn’t want to spend less time with us than she already did. Even then, most of what she made went into just keeping that damned roof over our heads. Kind of ironic when the price of your living space is killing you.”
“That explains why you’re pushing so hard for low-rent housing and office space.”