Chapter One
The fact that he was here could only mean one thing: something had gone terribly wrong. He had missed some moment, some crucial crossroads when he could have stopped this. Spoken up, asked the right question, been the voice of reason. But he’d said nothing. Perhaps...perhaps he was as equally to blame for this as anyone.
Cooper Dayton took a deep, calming breath, steeling himself for what was to come. What had to come. Part of him, a big part, just wanted to run out the kitchen door and not stop until he was safely ensconced in his own familiar little apartment. But there was no avoiding this now. Nowhere he could hide. They’d already gone too far.
Cooper walked quietly across the slick marble floor—white with some natural gray veins running through the stone and polished into an unearthly gleam. He could see his own reflection, a dark harbinger staring woefully back up at him, mocking him.
You’re dooooomed, his reflection said.
“Ditto,” Cooper said, which shut his reflection up real quick.
Cooper slowed as he got closer to the...doorway? Archway? Stone pillared gateway between kitchen and what was nominally a foyer but quite clearly wanted nothing more than to grow up to be a ballroom. It had two sweeping staircases, curved toward each other like open arms. Why? So that people walking up and people walking down never had to make eye contact? For the optimal choreography of big musical numbers?
He could hear voices across the foyer-call-me-ballroom where a set of large French doors stood partially open and led to a stone veranda. As quietly as possible, Cooper made his way toward the voices, taking the long way around the room. A very long way, indeed. To walk across the center of the room under the massive skylights and second floor balcony felt too exposed. Too...bright. Cooper surreptitiously checked behind himself just to make sure he wasn’t trailing mud from his shoes. Or tears from his eyes.
The voices on the patio had gotten louder, more distinct, and again Cooper hesitated in the doorway so that he could observe the man who had gotten him into this mess.
Oliver Park often looked magnificent. Tall, fit, broad-shouldered, sure, whatever. But that sort of stuff meant very little without the easygoing confidence he exuded. He was a man who knew his own strength and never felt the need to posture it. Cooper took in Park’s wide-legged stance on the intricate outdoor tiled mosaic, the way his hair gleamed dark and shiny in the blazing summer sun. He looked like some kind of lord of the manor surveying his lands. The man to Park’s left chatted on and on about saltwater pool maintenance from a slightly more distant position than most conversations took place. Subconsciously or not, even humans picked up on the deadly power that lay, relaxed and unbothered, within Park.
Cooper almost regretted being the one to bother the shit out of him. Almost. But if Lord Park here thought Cooper was going to live in a house with a motherfucking ballroom, he had another thing coming.
“Hey.” Cooper stepped out onto the patio and noticed the other man—Josh Dolan, their unsettlingly friendly real estate agent—startle, then recover and grin brightly at him.
Park didn’t even blink. But Park had probably tracked Cooper’s every movement through the house and been making notes about the rate of his breathing and pulse in his little lemon-colored notebook, to be deciphered with Dolan later. Cooper hoped there was a record of the minor cardiac arrest he’d had seeing the master suite that was roughly the size of his entire current apartment.
“So what do we think? Incredible, right?” Josh asked, reaching out to clap Cooper on the arm. He was a tallish guy, too, around Cooper’s height, and obviously took great care to look as buff as he possibly could. His physique was like a children’s costume standing next to Park. “I was just telling Oll here how lucky we are she hasn’t sold yet. This amount of space? In this neighborhood? Incredible. We’ve already had some offers. But I was like, hold on now, my guys are gonna love this place! Let them get their shot!”
Cooper blinked slowly and attempted his best blank-faced Park impression. Josh was almost aggressively enthusiastic about not just the houses, but Cooper and Park as well. Everything was incredible.
You guys are incredible. The privacy you get here is incredible. Oll, buddy, your eye for the finer things is incredible. It raised Cooper’s natural suspicion and he couldn’t help but think Josh was overcompensating for some underlying discomfort. It was unclear whether the discomfort came from them as a couple, the natural uneasiness Park seemed to inspire in certain types of self-labeled “macho” men in particular, or if it was in reaction to Cooper’s 24/7 scowl that had not lifted since Park had first introduced them last month. Whatever the reason, Josh spent every house tour tripping over himself to be best buds with “his guys.” Just one of the ways Cooper noticed Park’s money and perceived status protecting them. Josh knew where his bread was buttered. And the moment Park had walked into the upscale real estate agent’s with a file of demands, he’d been treated like a goddamn creamery.
And Cooper was...the visiting milkman? Head dairy farmer? Transient cow?
You are his alpha.
Whatever the ever-living fuck that was supposed to mean.
Park was analyzing him carefully and Cooper pulled his thoughts together. One hurdle at a time. And unless he wanted to spend his next day off touring the Palace of Versailles while Park wondered if perhaps what it was missing was more gilded windows, he was going to have to confront this hurdle right now.
“So!” Josh clapped his hands together. “Are we signing here? Or should we get some celebratory drinks, first round on me?”
Cooper smiled tightly. “Can I talk to you, Oll?”
Park raised an eyebrow, but Josh just clapped his hands together again. “Of course, of course! I’ll leave you guys to chat. Don’t forget, we’ve got that other place on Beech Street. Do you guys play tennis?” He swung an imaginary racket a couple times while backing into the house, then pointed at them. “Think about it!”
Once Josh was gone, Cooper gave Park a long look, then walked past him, a little farther out onto the patio, and felt the heat of the day settle tighter to his skin. After the extreme air-conditioning of the house it was nice, but within seconds began to feel too hot and oppressive. They’d been having an uncomfortably warm late June, even by DC standards. He wished he’d decided to have this conversation inside, and the thought annoyed him. He didn’t want to appreciate anything about this house.
Cooper sighed and felt rather than heard Park draw closer. Felt the palm of his hand lie gently on his back and smooth down his spine until it touched the rise of his ass and then slipped under his T-shirt and slid around to hold his hip. Park gave off more heat than your average human, and the touch of his palm to Cooper’s skin was all it took to push the prickling feeling into a full-on sweat.
“I’m filthy,” Cooper murmured in protest.