“Everything to your satisfaction, David?” Cold asked politely, taking his seat at the head of the table, with David seated across from him at the other end.
Jimmy sat to Cold’s right, beaming happily between the two men.
“Everything is phenomenal,” David said with a firm nod. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“My pleasure,” Cold drawled, then turned to his right, speaking a brief snippet of French to Jerry.
Jerry nodded, obediently bringing over two glasses and pouring a rich red wine for him and Jimmy.
“Thank you, Jerry,” Jimmy said, raising the glass to take a sip.
“So!” David said jovially. “You never did tell me. How did you two meet?”
Jimmy sputtered, snapping his hand over his mouth to stop himself from spraying wine all over the table. He flushed, stammering, “W-well, it’s sort of a f-funny story...”
David’s brow furrowed.
“We met... through Maury,” Jimmy said carefully, glancing nervously at Cold. He would take the story of how their relationship began to the grave before ever telling his father he’d been selling his body to pay off his debt.
Cold’s lips were curled in an amused smile around the rim of his glass, and Jimmy swore he was trying not to laugh.
“Maurice Martine,” David sighed affectionately, shaking his head. “How is ol’ Maury the Mouth? I always enjoyed his phone calls. That man molds profanity like a master sculptor.”
“He’s good! Cranky, you know, like always,” Jimmy chuckled, “but I know he’d love to see you. Uhm, you know, whenever you’re ready!”
“Sure thing, kiddo. Maybe we can go see him tomorrow. Go out for lunch or something.”
“That would be great!”
“So.” David paused to finish his beer. “Maury just decided to introduce you to the most powerful criminal in all of Strassen Springs?”
Cold smirked at the blunt question, and Jimmy thought he was going to die from embarrassment. His father had a twinkle in his eye that was downright mischievous, as if he somehow knew there was more to the story than what Jimmy had told him.
“When I first met your son,” Cold said carefully, glancing down at his wineglass, “it was only business. The pleasure, the love... came later.”
“And you love my son?” David asked, smiling appreciatively when Jerry brought him another beer. He looked back at Cold expectantly, his expression still gentle, but his jaw was tight.
Jimmy’s heart jumped right up into his throat.
Cold set down his glass, leaning across the table to meet David’s eye. He took a deep breath, his icy facade melting ever so slightly.
Jimmy noticed the shift immediately and watched the cold armor drop away as his lover regarded David with an openness he’d rarely seen outside of their bedroom.
“Yes,” Cold replied sincerely. “I do.”
“Good.” David raised his beer to take a drink as he added nonchalantly, “I’d hate to go back to prison for actually killing someone.”
“So would I,” Cold agreed, nodding sternly and taking the threat with a calm sip of wine.
Jimmy chugged down his glass. His father had just threatened Boss Cold, and Cold might have possibly just threatened him back, and they were both smiling.
Jesus Christ.
Mumbling his thanks when Jerry brought the bottle to refill his glass, Jimmy almost drank half of it before Cold’s concerned gaze stopped him.
“Dinner will be served momentarily,” Jerry promised, swishing back to the kitchen with a polite bow.
“Merci, Jerry.” Cold glanced back at David as he said, “You’re more than welcome to stay here as my guest for as long as you’d like.”
