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I snorted. “No. But if you could send me a link, that’d be great. Gay edition, thanks.”
Jeremiah sighed and turned to stare out the window, though the tips of his ears went red.
He was so damned cute.
And he was used to me and Ellis now.
Kind of.
“You still didn’t have to waste the money on me,” Jeremiah furthered. “The standard-issue office chair would have sufficed.”
He was just mad that I’d used the money on him because he was only ever used to paying his own way. He’d had to save for every single thing in his life or go without, and me buying him things made him feel uncomfortable.
“Let him buy you stuff, Jem,” Ellis said gently. He knew that Jeremiah struggled with anyone spending money on him for anything. “It makes up for his terrible sense of humour.”
Jeremiah levelled him with a stare that said, in no uncertain terms, that Ellis and I shared identical senses of humour. Or maybe it was for the use of the nickname Jem. Rowan’s youngest had called him that because they couldn’t say his name, much like Presley and Casey who called him Jememiah.
It was cute when the kids said it, apparently. The adults, not so much.
I snorted. “Babe, if I kept the money for taking you to the island, it’d make me a real-life Julia Roberts inPretty Woman.”
He turned to squint at me. “What?”
So I explained. “You’d be paying me to stay with you and for the amazing sex we’re gonna have,” I said. “Which is technically prostitution. And wewillbe having a lot of amazing sex, because two or three days of just you and me and nothing else is a really long time. Now, I have no problem with prostitution or with role playing Julia Roberts if you wanna be Richard Gere. Or we can take it in turns with which one of us wants to be the pretty woman. I have zero problems with that.”
Ellis laughed.
Jeremiah slow-blinked before sighing. “Your mind is a frightful place sometimes.”
“I’ve been saying that for years,” Ellis said as he pulled the car into a parking spot at the marina.
“You’re both welcome.” I got out and held Jeremiah’s door for him. As he climbed out and when Ellis couldn’t hear, I whispered, “I wanna be Julia first though, if that’s okay?”
He smiled as I closed the door behind him, and Ellis already had the boot open.
“Hey, dickbag, come get your shit,” Ellis said.
“Oh,” Jeremiah said, rushing to help, but Ellis was clearly talking to me.
“You’re not the dickbag, Jeremiah,” Ellis corrected, shoving my duffle bag at me. He slid the black crate of gear closer. “This good to go?”
“I can take that,” Jeremiah started. “It’s rather heavy.”
Ellis picked it up and began walking to the dock. Jeremiah shot me a he-doesn’t-have-to-help-me look and I closed the boot and smiled at him. “You’ll get used to it.”
I would have thought he’d be used to it by now—having my family around so much, doing family stuff for him—but apparently not.
We followed Ellis down toward the dock where a familiar figure stood next to a gangplank.
“Morning,” Dad said cheerfully as we got closer.
“Morning,” I replied.
“Good morning,” Jeremiah said. Ellis walked the crate onto the boat and disappeared inside. Then he looked at the boat. “Oh, good heavens, is this it?”
I knew he’d think it was too expensive or whatever. What could I say? My dad liked to go fishing. “Sure is.”
He looked at it again, something on the roof making him look twice. “Is that a radome?”
