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“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure this wasn’t how you were planning to spend the day.”
Lucien shrugged, turning his face up to the sun. “I told Clay I’d start going through all the financial documents Flo dumped on him. But considering that shit has been on autopilot for the past thirty years, I figure it can wait a little while longer. This is more interesting.”
Baer groaned. “Thank fuck your background is in finance. Neither of us knows what to do with that shit, and Grey has all his stuff handled by an accountant.”
“No worries. I got it. It’s actually fun if you—”
Baer didn’t even hear the rest of what Lucien was saying because his heart was pounding too loud in his ears. He’d found it. The perfect gift for Wiley.
“This is it,” he breathed, in an almost awed tone.
They’d crossed the street to a pair of large wooden stalls run by some local artists. There was a collection of glass sculptures, and Baer had found a mountain lion perched on a real rock. The creature had been captured mid-pounce, its powerful body stretched. The artist had been able to carefully detail the cougar’s lean form and strong muscles in the glass.
No, it wasn’t some priceless piece of art, but it perfectly captured their first meeting when Baer had shifted into a mountain lion in the bakery. It would mean something to Wiley. It would remind him of their first day together.
“I want this. It’s perfect,” Baer said, smiling at the salesperson who’d walked over.
“Of course, sir. Let me just wrap it up for you.” The young woman with the nose ring carefully lifted the lion and carried it to the counter, where she began wrapping it in protective paper while Baer dug out his wallet.
“The mountain lion?” Lucien asked.
Baer nodded. “It’s sort of how we met.”
Lucien chuckled and patted Baer on the shoulder. “Of course it is. Nothing about my life will ever be normal again.”
“Nope, probably not.”
“Lucien? I thought that was you!”
Both Lucien and Baer turned as a short, slender man wearing skinny jeans and a bright-pink oxford stepped into the stall.
“I was so hoping to run into you again. We totally forgot to exchange numbers the other night,” the man continued.
Baer looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised at Lucien. The tall man didn’t look amused.
“Hey…” Lucien replied without enthusiasm.
“Ricky,” the stranger snapped, his good mood evaporating as his eyes locked on the hand still resting on Baer’s shoulder. “It’s Ricky.”
“Hey,” Lucien repeated.
Ricky’s features twisted and he glared at Baer. “Found yourself something new. He’s rougher than I thought you’d go for.”
“Ricky, it was one night. You knew that. The only one creating drama here is you, and there’s no point.”
Baer battled to keep his face completely blank in that face of that brutal shutdown. Ricky’s face flushed bright red, and he gasped loudly enough to draw the attention of shoppers who had yet to even notice the conversation. Yeah, it was clear Ricky was all about creating a scene and being the center of attention. And goddamn, Lucien wasn’t even blinking an eye.
The newcomer locked eyes with Baer and sneered. “Consider yourself warned. Apparently, he’ll stick his dick in anything.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Baer murmured before he could catch himself.
The man gasped again then turned on his heel and sort of flounced out of the stall in a full snit.
A soft throat clearing drew Baer’s attention back to the counter, where the salesperson was standing ready with his gift in a small white box. Her lips were pressed together like she was struggling to keep from smiling, but there was laughter in her eyes. Baer promptly paid for the gift and accepted the box in a little paper bag.
“All right, let it go,” Lucien groaned the second they stepped outside the stall and got a little space between shoppers.
Baer snorted. “Work fast, do ya?”
“Yeah, yeah. I like sex. I might have hit a few clubs while I was in town. Ricky was more drama than he was worth, but he did give fantastic head.”
Baer rocked a little on his feet with laughter. “Well, at least you got that.”
“Yeah. Sorry, though.”
“Nah. It was funny. I just take it that I’m not your type.”
Lucien shook his head. “Honestly, not even a little.”
“Looks like your type might run closer to Wiley.”
A strange noise came from his companion, and Baer had to look up at him. “Not even close. That boy has lovesick and taken written all over him. Definitely not my type.”
“Well, you’ve survived shopping with me,” Baer said, playfully nudging Lucien with his elbow as they walked down the narrow sidewalk. “Let’s go get this crispy pig, duck, and noodles you mentioned. Think we can keep it warm long enough to get back home? Wiley was saying he missed good noodles, and Grey’s got a thing for duck.”
