“Nachos?” Andrew suggested.
Isaac huffed, almost choking on his own laughter, as his emotions settled back to normal. He was suddenly starving. “Sour cream first,” he said, and turned on his heels to get it out of the fridge.
They sat on the sofa in the living room with the nachos on the coffee table, Isaac eating about a third, maybe not even quite that, and Andrew devoured the rest.
“I forgot to ask,” Isaac said, smirking as he nodded at the bedroom. “Was that your job interview?”
Andrew’s brow scrunched. “My firm didn't tank. We’ll merge. Working together doesn't mean you get to be the boss.”
“You thinkyouget to be the boss?”
“I figure we can alternate.” He made a point of eating a chip very slowly, widening his mouth and darting out his tongue. Alternating was what they did best. “But no more questionable behavior.”
“Questionable?”
“Illegal.” Meaning the police uniform, the radio hacking, and a few things Andrew didn’t know about.
“Where's the fun in that?” Isaac grinned.
Andrew was reaching for the last clump on the tray when his phone burst out with “My Way” again. He shook his head, answering the call quickly. “Forget something?”
Isaac could hear Steven faintly since they were seated so close. “Just family dinner for next week. Wednesday?”
“Sure. Maybe we can expand again. Ford, Dalton, Kevin, and invite the rest of Ford’s associates too?” He looked at Isaac hopefully.
“After all this, I’d welcome any of them,” Steven said. “Does that mean Ford didn’t cut and run now that the thief is caught?”
Isaac took the phone from Andrew, said, “Not yet, Detective,” and clickedEnd Call.
Andrew dissolved into laughter. “You’re lucky Steve’s starting to like you. Never thought I’d say that.”
Neither did Isaac.
“Though you still need to meet our dad.”
Thathe’d been actively trying not to think about.
“For the record,” Isaac ran one hand up Andrew’s thigh while depositing his phone onto the coffee table, “thatis more the music I’d dance to. That club crap is closer to torture. I only gave in because you were in those ridiculous skinny jeans.”
“You mean Sinatra? Really?” Andrew snatched up his phone again.
“What are you—?”
In moments “My Way” started playing again, not mid-song like it did when Steven called, but right from the beginning.
“Oh no…” Isaac shook his head, pressing back into the cushions.
Andrew was too fast for him though, already seizing his wrists and tugging him to his feet. “Oh yes. Dance with me, Arty!”
“Andrew,” Isaac tried to growl, but he looked so adoring, so adorable and inviting when he pulled Isaac into his body a few feet from the sofa, one hand up along his shoulder, and the other taking his hand, letting Isaac lead. “I don’t—”
“Shut up and dance with me, Isaac.”
Isaac sighed. Better thanArty, and he did love this song. He loved a great many things. He did not love dancing. But with Andrew…
With Andrew…
Accepting Andrew’s hand, he slid his other arm around Andrew’s waist, keeping to a slow, half-timed two-step, as he led him across his living room.
