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“They have Ash.”
“How is that an argument against what I said?”
Sloane chuckled. He rolled onto his side and propped himself on his elbow, using his free hand to caress Dex. It was like neither of them could go more than a few seconds without touching.
“He’s been doing a great job.”
It wasn’t the first time Ash had stepped in for Sloane. No one had ever complained about his leadership ability.
“Has Ash ever wanted to lead a team?”
Sloane shook his head. “He could if he wanted to. Sparks has been trying to give him his own team for years.”
Dex was surprised by that. “Sparks wants him to be a Team Leader?” Not that Ash wasn’t experienced or skilled enough. If anything, he was overqualified for his position in Destructive Delta, but only because he preferred it that way. For all of Ash’s abrasiveness, he was smart, and more open to adapting to new situations than he was before. There was a time Dex believed Ash was too hotheaded to be a Team Leader, but Ash had changed since Dex had first met him. He’d mellowed out some, took more time assessing the reasons behind people’s actions rather than just reacting.
“Believe it or not, the higher-ups agree. Every time a position comes up, Ash is the first one to get an offer, but he always turns them down. Occasionally he’ll fill in until the position is assigned permanently to someone, but he won’t leave Destructive Delta.” Sloane shrugged. “You know Ash. He’s never been big on change, at least none that he doesn’t initiate.”
With a groan, Sloane got out of bed, providing Dex with a tantalizing show as he extended his beefy arms high over his head, the muscles in his back flexing and shifting under all that smooth skin as he stretched. The soft cotton of his loose pajama bottoms accentuated his firm, round ass. Dex had the urge to pounce, but knowing Sloane had to get ready for work, he behaved himself.
Sloane used the bathroom and got dressed while Dex pulled on a T-shirt and made the bed. He went downstairs to brew more than the individual tankard of pre–morning coffee his fancy coffee machine had prepared for him earlier that morning. By the time he got back upstairs, Sloane was done with the bathroom. He kissed Dex sweetly on the lips on his way to the kitchen to make breakfast. It hadn’t taken them long to fall into a morning routine that worked perfectly for them.
Thanks to Dex’s Waking Dead state in the mornings, he now set his smart alarm to wake him an hour before their regular alarm was set to go off. Dex would stumble downstairs half-asleep, his body on autopilot as he took his coffee mug—which he always left by the machine the night before, along with a spoon and small plastic Tupperware with the exact measurement of sugar he liked—and poured himself some nectar of the gods. He added all the sugar in the tiny container, mixed, and sipped enough to reach some level of brain functionality. Then he went back upstairs and climbed into bed next to Sloane. They snuggled, their alarm went off about half an hour later, and Dex was awake enough to enjoy Sloane’s sleepy morning smile.
After putting on one of his faded Def Leppard T-shirts and a pair of donut-patterned socks, Dex went downstairs and sat at the kitchen counter as Sloane served up high-fiber english muffins piled high with scrambled egg whites, topped with melted low-fat shredded cheese and bacon bits. Dex’s steaming, frothy bucket of cappuccino beckoned.
“Thanks for breakfast, babe.” Dex took a big sip of his coffee, sighing in contentment before chomping down on his english muffin. He’d been distrustful of the egg whites at first, but Sloane had ways of making them tasty.
“Dex, you okay?”
Dex realized he’d been staring down at his plate. “Shit, sorry. I must have zoned out there a second.”
“Several seconds,” Sloane said, his amber eyes filled with worry. He placed his hand gently to the back of Dex’s neck, his thumb stroking his skin. “You okay?”
“I’m good.” Dex smiled and leaned in to give Sloane a quick kiss. He finished his coffee and then got busy cleaning up. That was the deal. One cooked or prepared food; the other cleaned up. As soon as the dishwasher was loaded and programmed, Dex busied himself cleaning the kitchen. He gave a start when Sloane took hold of his elbow, turning Dex around, his brow furrowed.
“Dex, you’re not good. What’s wrong?” Sloane brushed Dex’s hair away from his face. “And don’t say you’re good. You’re cleaning the kitchen.”
“I like a clean kitchen,” Dex replied with a shrug.
“Babe, you cleaned it twice yesterday.”
Had he? Crap. He had. Dex let out a deep sigh. “I don’t want you to go, but I know you have to go. But I don’t want you to.” Man, he sounded like such a whiney whiner. Sloane didn’t seem to notice his pathetic pouting. He’d be fine. He was fine.
“Should I call in?” Sloane put his fingers under Dex’s chin and tilted his face up so their eyes could meet. “If you need me to stay, I will.”
“No.” Yes. Dex shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m being silly.” He just felt… weird.
“Dex—”
“Nope.” Dex smiled brightly and kissed Sloane’s lips before turning him and gently pushing him toward the front door. If he didn’t get Sloane out he’d never let him leave, and he couldn’t be that selfish. “You’re Team Leader. You need to go lead your team. Your city needs you.”
Sloane turned and took hold of Dex’s hand. He put it to his lips for a kiss. “The city needs the THIRDS. It doesn’t need me. If you don’t feel safe or well, just say the word.”
“I’ll be fine. I promise. The Tin Men are out there making sure the Wicked Witch doesn’t get me. I’m pretty sure Austen’s been hanging around too.”
Sloane cocked his head to one side. “How do you know?”
“Just a feeling. Also my Cheesy Doodles are missing.”
