His eyes were arresting against his almost-black hair and olive skin. They were currently more blue than grey, which meant Lennox was feeling better. Why he’d noticed that the guy’s eyes were a barometer of his mood, Evan couldn’t say, but he expected to qualify for a job with The Weather Channel before the week was out.
“What?” Heath asked, stopping next to the kitchen island to finish buttoning up. Evan realized he’d been staring. Awkward.
“You look almost civilized.” He watched the blue shift as a dark eyebrow arched.
“And you look ready for a three-hour tour with Lovey.”
“Was that aGilligan’s Islandjoke?”
“Maybe.”
Evan’s mouth twitched into a half-grin as he grabbed the keys and slipped on his shoes. “There’s hope for you after all.”
“So, about the accommodations.”
Evan climbed behind the wheel of the cart and waited for Lennox to get situated. “I’m not spending my honeymoon on the couch, no matter how poorly you think of me.”
Lennox blanched. “I realize this is a sensitive time, but I’d remind you we were both screwed over.”
“Hon-ey-moooon,” Evan repeated, with emphasis on each syllable. He held out a hand for the wire still clutched in Lennox’s fist, which the grump slapped into his palm with unnecessary force. “Plus, I bet I’m older.”
It was another victory he’d not usually brag about, but he’d take what he could get at that point.
“Fine, Grandpa. The couch does look cushy.”
Evan replaced the wire and closed up the console. The cart started with a gagging purr.
“There’s a sleeping porch.”
“There is?”
It was amazing how quickly Lennox rebounded. “Yes.”
“Well, why didn’t you lead with that?”
The answer was that he enjoyed pushing the guy’s buttons. Lennox was so easy to rile, he couldn’t help himself. He’d need a twelve-step program once he got back to Boston and only had Owen to work with.
“We should probably come up with a relationship story before we get there,” he said instead. No sense in showing his cards so early in the game.
“Oh God. They’re going to ask us questions.”
“We met at a charity function. I swept you off your feet, and we’ve been together ever since.”
“That fast? We’re not lesbians, Westin.”
The cart swerved as he laughed. “You might also want to use my actual name.”
“Only if you use mine.”
“You got it, pookie.”
“Thatis not—screw you, Westin.”
“Okay, so what’s a reasonable relationship timeframe in your world?”
He hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know. A few years? I’ve never actually lived with someone.”
“Seriously?”
