Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
A sob drew their attention to the other side of the table where his mother sat, fingers pressed to her mouth. Without speaking she rose and crossed to Ansel. She pulled him up into a tight hug.
His father, the giant who’d raised him, taught him how to throw a baseball, bandaged his first scraped knee and every bruise after that—the man who never showed weakness in front of his kids, sat speechless now, because of Ansel.
“That was so beautiful,” his mother whispered.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Donovan, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Don’t mind me, dear.” She hugged him tighter. “I’m so sorry your parents don’t know what a remarkable young man you’ve become.”
Ansel’s arms tightened. “Thank you.”
After another silent moment his mother pulled away with a self-deprecating laugh. “Well, now I think it’s time for dessert. What do you say?” She looked around the table with a lifted brow, settling on her husband. “It will give me time to fix my mascara.”
Ansel pulled a tissue from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “I would love some dessert.”
* * *
Compared to dinner, dessert was smooth sailing. They enjoyed cheesecake and coffee and talked about simple things. Around ten, Meg and Tara left for campus. Soon after, Fitch and Ansel followed.
As they were leaving, his father pulled Fitch aside and clasped him on the shoulder. “Son, I want you to know how much I love you.”
“I know, Pop.”
“The way you dealt with the remodel issue and taking care of your mom and sister showed real fortitude. I can admit I don’t understand your new relationship, but I figure it’s none of my business. I can see you’re happy and that makes me happy. You’re a good son. I’m honored you want to take over the business.”
“It’s your legacy.”
“This thing with John—”
“I can handle whatever comes.”
“He’s threated to pull his business if I don’t fire you.”
Christ. “Pop, I want to make you proud. I want to take over the company, but if it’s a question of that or Ansel, I will always choose him.”
“Yeah. I kind of figured as soon as I’d heard about what happened. So I told John to do what he had to do.”
“Shit.” That meant he’d lost the company a client already.
“You’re my son and a damn fine contractor. It’s your company now.”
Fitch’s throat closed. “Pop...” He couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
“I suspect he’ll start a smear campaign to try and turn some others against you, but you’ve been raised around these people. They know you. They know how hard you work. If you keep doing what you’ve been doing, I suspect many of them will care more about their profits than what goes on in your bedroom.”
Fitch rubbed a hand down his face. “I’ll do my best.”
He’d known that outburst was going to come back and bite him on the ass. He hadn’t cared then and he couldn’t bring himself to regret it now.
“I’m sure you will, son. You’re a brave man and far smarter than I ever was. I’m proud of you.” His dad grunted in that way he had that meant the conversation was getting a little too emotional and it was time for it to end. They slapped each other on the shoulder in a one-handed hug.
Then his mom pulled him into her arms with a whispered “I like him” and a kiss on the cheek.
After Ansel said goodbye, Fitch took his hand and they settled in his vehicle. The moonlight shone on Ansel’s blond hair and his face was relaxed and peaceful.
“I can take you back into the city now, but my apartment isn’t far away and I was hoping you’d want to stay the night? I’ll take you to work in the morning.”
Ansel’s eyes were soft. “Okay.”
The drive was quick and completed in silence. His building was a two-story converted multi-family home. Donovan Construction had done the conversion back in the day, so Fitch had gotten a great deal when he moved in. His neighbor was a seventy-year-old woman with three cats, but she had a separate entrance so he only ever saw her when she asked him to feed the animals. Which, luckily, wasn’t often. He was not a cat person.
Inside he flipped on the light and kicked his boots off. “Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure.” Ansel pulled off his heels, set them next to Fitch’s boots, and followed him into the kitchen.
“Cold or hot?”
“Cold is fine. Nice place.”
“It’s nothing special, but it does the job.” Fitch took out a couple sodas and handed one to Ansel.
“It’s roomy.”
“Want the tour?”
“I do, but first...” Ansel set his soda on the counter and closed the distance between them. His long fingers combed through Fitch’s hair as their lips connected.
Ansel kissed him more tenderly, more intensely, than ever before. His tongue caressed, his fingers played, and his teeth nipped in that intoxicating way he had, only more. It was so much more this time.