“Yes, Sir. Master sent me instructions on what to make. I hope that’s okay?”
I didn’t tell Liam he couldn’t do that. I might be a dick, but I won’t be a punitive asshole with the boy.
Not when I want him bonded to me instead of Liam.
“That’s okay.” I tip his head back so I can look into his eyes. He’s desperate to please me and probably feeling like a man who nearly died of thirst finally being allowed to drink. “Show me around real quick first.”
“Yes, Sir.” He gives me a tour of the house, and as we’re heading to the kitchen at the end of it, I pause over a wedding picture hanging on the wall in the living room. It looks…perfectly staged.
Too perfect.
I study the woman’s face. She’s smiling, but only her mouth. It doesn’t come close to approaching her eyes. Compared to the photos I saw of him in college, Ward looks borderline sick to his stomach instead of like a happy groom.
Pointing, I ask, “What’s up with this?”
He sighs. “She used me as much as I used her. I was her ticket to stay in college and have a career instead of being forced to have kids she didn’t want.”
“And you’re sure she doesn’t know you’re gay?”
“Positive.”
“That’s your father?” I point.
“Yeah.” His dark glare tells me everything I need to know. Fortunately, Ward doesn’t look like him.
“Does Olivia have a job?”
“She’s going to work for a PR firm as an image consultant. Starts after she returns from Georgia.”
“So she’ll be busy?”
“And traveling a lot. I hope.”
I cup the back of his neck and we go to the kitchen. “I hope it’s okay if we eat in here, Sir. Or would you prefer the dining room?” They have an eat-in breakfast bar.
“This is fine. Sometimes, we’ll eat on the couch.”
“Do you want me to strip?”
“Not right now. Let’s eat.”
He prepares my plate first and waits to eat until I realize he’s waiting on me.
“Go ahead.”
He smiles. “Thank you, Sir.”
That prickle of tears hits my eyes again and jabs me high in the sinuses. But the food is excellent. “This is good. Do you cook a lot?”
“Olivia doesn’t like to cook, so I taught myself over the years.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes while I try to formulate what I want to say. “Did the two of you—Liam and you, I mean—have an ultimate plan when things started up between you again?”
He blushes and shakes his head. “He said he worried you might butt heads with my dad somehow. That he needed time to figure out how to make sure you were safe.”
I take another bite. “He wasn’t planning on letting this go on for years behind my back?”
“No, Sir. He felt horrible about keeping it from you.”
