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“Smart man.” Mike raised an assertive brow in his son’s direction, glad that he didn’t object any further.
Edison gave him his full attention. “What are the favors?”
Mike sighed a quick breath of relief. He was already set to begin laying the groundwork on his plan to make Rayne his own, but he was going to need some help. His journey would take a while, and he wasn’t confident enough in what he was doing… yet. Bishop came and stood beside Edison, absently caressing his back, showing support no matter what.
Mike wanted what he saw right before his eyes. He was glad his son had found a heart to love that was as good and nurturing as Edison’s. He treated Mike’s son like a king. Fed him well and stimulated his mind to want to learn. Mike couldn’t wish for a better son-in-law.
And that’s all he wanted too. Someone who would be there for him and didn’t care about the shitty past he came along with. Someone he didn’t have to pretend for. Mike was a grumpy, unyielding, no-good motherfucker… but he didn’t feel like that around Rayne. Mike deserved something good too, and he was going for it.
Mike didn’t think about the mild level of deceit in the favors he was requesting behind Rayne’s back and asked anyway. If it would make Rayne happy, Mike would lie and deceive all goddamn day for him. “First one. Are there any entry-level temp jobs available at that fancy law firm you work at?”
Edison thought hard for a moment, then slowly began to shake his head. “I don’t believe we—”
“Before you answer,” Mike urged, lowering his voice, “think really hard.”
Edison’s eyes widened, and his Adam’s apple dipped low and bobbed back up as he stuttered, “Um… like how temporary do you mean?”
Mike hadn’t had time to iron out a full plan while he’d listened to Rayne talk to Edison in the library about his interests and goals. But he already knew that Rayne had been looking for work, and he knew he loved books. That was a good start. Now Mike also knew that Rayne wanted to practice or learn more about yoga, and he’d just discovered fifteen minutes ago that Rayne might want to pursue credits to get his massage license.
Mike didn’t let his thoughts stray too far about what parts of him Rayne could massage with those long, lean fingers and instead ignored the pulsing in his neglected balls.
“Maybe for a few weeks. Something part-time with good pay.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Bishop stared, moving around to the other side of the breakfast bar to face him.
Mike disregarded his son’s comment and kept talking to Edison. “Entry-level job, nothing too lawyery, all right?”
Edison rubbed his smooth chin with his palm. “One of the receptionists in the front is about to go on six weeks’ pregnancy leave. We weren’t going to get a temp in there, but I can convince them to hire someone temporarily.”
“Receptionist.” Mike grimaced, not sure if Rayne would like the sound of that.
“Yes. Receptionist,” Edison reiterated. “It’s only nine to one, Monday through Thursday, pays fifteen dollars an hour, it’s in a fun office environment, and there’s no weekends.”
Mike was nodding while he listened to Edison and the footsteps he heard coming down the hall.
“There’s two other women and a guy that head up the front desk. And they are so much fun. I think—”
“Shh.” Mike slowed the conversation as Chelsea, Rayne, and Wood came from out the back and made themselves comfortable in the living room.
Mike got lost in the way Rayne moved his sleek body as he got cozy on the chaise lounge with his friend. There was something mysteriously beautiful about him that Mike almost became hypnotized as he stared. He’d never met a man so calm and at peace, though it was clear he had inner turmoil that he battled with every day. It was the quiet power Rayne had that made Mike want to absorb some of it into his own raucous mind. Or maybe Mike was enamored with the soft smile that never quite reached Rayne’s light eyes. No. Those stayed sad.
“Dad. We need to have a conversation.”
“Damnit, Bishop! Not now.” Mike raised his voice, causing Rayne to glance in his direction.
“Then when?” Bishop shot back.
Mike clamped his hand down on his son’s shoulder, staring him in his eyes. He could see the confusion and the hurt. Bishop was smart, and Mike was sure he’d already figured it out that he was making a play for Rayne. Now Bishop wanted an explanation as to why he didn’t know this side of his father even existed.
Hell, Mike hadn’t been sure it existed anymore. No woman or man had made Mike’s pulse quicken in almost thirty years. He’d thought what he’d felt for his old club mate slash roommate, Slick, was a once-in-a-lifetime feeling because it’d never happened again. Not until… now.
Rayne’s eyes met his over Bishop’s shoulder. The gentle expression that’d been on his handsome face slowly began to transform into a seductive gleam that made something foreign pierce Mike’s chest, a feeling he didn’t understand. Energy rippled between their locked gazes. He fought to keep his body in neutral, but Rayne was playing a dangerous game with him. Those damn eyes were fathomless, an abyss that held warmth, happiness, understanding, and compassion.
Rayne gave him a subtle, sexy-as-fuck wink, a secret shared only between them that made Mike’s dick jerk behind his zipper. He couldn’t return the gesture without Bishop or Edison noticing, so he stored it away for later. Rayne’s lopsided smile was cute as hell before he turned back toward Chelsea, who’d never stopped talking.
Feeling a spike of encouragement, Mike proceeded with his plan. He got up and walked around Bishop and into the kitchen, pretending like he was helping Edison prepare the desserts.
“Okay, receptionist it is,” Mike said out of the side of his mouth.
