7
As expected, the Kowalski summer home was probably the nicest house Ryan had ever set foot in, and he’d had some pretty well-off clients he’d made house calls to back in New York.
But this wasoldmoney. The kind of old money that bought you a country mansion with sea views and enough distance from the neighbors that it felt like the house was in the middle of nowhere.
He’d never seen an actual, sweeping double staircase like something out of Gone with the goddamn Wind before. Not in person.
Nor had he seen so much gold furniture in one place outside of the movies. Gold and cream and glass, with the occasional dark wood piece to break it up.
Like the ridiculous bed he was currently standing at the foot off, made out of what he could only assume was solid mahogany and bigger than his first apartment.
Compared to everything else he’d seen, it was practically tasteful. But this was a guest room, so it was probably a little more subdued in the interest of not being a constant assault on every possible sense.
The whole house smelled of lavender and clean linen, which was a miracle considering that, like the sanctuary, it was more or less in the middle of a swamp, too. That was the part Ryan didn’t get. Who would have all this money and still live in South Florida?
There’d been more than one house like this on the way up, though, so the Kowalski’s weren’talone. There must have been something about the place.
Family ties, he guessed. That seemed like the only reasonable explanation.
Or maybe his city-boy roots were showing and normal people liked living in swamps.
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about how we’re gonna share one bed,” Oscar said behind him, moving forward to drop his overnight bag on the floor, marking out his side.
Ryan was glad he’d made the first move, honestly. He didn’t want to have to awkwardly discuss who was taking which side.
“These sheets feel like they’d be worth a week’s pay,” Oscar said, running his hand under the duvet, stroking them in awe. “How do people live like this?”
“And this is thesummerhome,” Ryan pointed out. “Imagine where they actually live.”
Oscar snorted, reaching for a basket in the middle of the bed and pulling it over to himself.
“What’s that?” Ryan asked, dropping his own bag on the other side of the bed.
“A hospitality basket,” Oscar said automatically. “What are you, a barbarian?”
“Forgive me for not growing up inviting guests to my mansion,” Ryan responded, though he knew it was a joke and he kept his tone light.
He and Oscar might have fought, but being in this situation together was building a sense of solidarity between them, at least from Ryan’s perspective. Things seemed to have eased off, any lingering resentment starting to fade.
Besides, Oscar seemed excited about the bed, bouncing on it a little and smiling to himself.
Maybe this weekend reallywouldn’tbe so bad. Ryan could definitely have used a break, and he got the impression Oscar felt about the same way. One night away from everything would be good for both of them.
“May left me one of those,” he added after a moment. “I didn’t know they were like… athing.”
“My mom always made one up for guests. Even if they were sleeping on the couch,” Oscar said. “It’s welcoming. Although…” he trailed off, pulling a few things out of the basket and throwing them across the bed toward Ryan.
Lube and condoms.
Ryan blinked at them for a few seconds as though they’d change if he closed his eyes enough. Heat crept up his neck as he blushed, and at the same time, he feltridiculousfor being embarrassed.
“This is a little more, uh, presumptuous than I’d normally expect to see,” Oscar said.
The tips of Ryan’s ears burned.
He knew that the assumption was that he and Oscar were…togethertogether. Like, physically joined at hip-level on a regular basis together.
But something about seeing lube and condoms laid out was still a little confronting.
