Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure either, but it’s the best I can do,” Gray said, chuckling. “I didn’t have time to take a lunch break and there was a container full of them sitting in the office kitchen. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I had no choice but to throw caution to the wind and go for it.”
“You’re telling me nobody else in your office was willing to try these things, and that made you decide to go all in?”
“Yes. I think they said there was kale in there too.”
“That sounds”—Jack coughed—“healthy.”
“It probably is but I’m a little worried that I’ll grow a man bun now. You need to save me by feeding me steak.”
“I’m on it. Do you want to go out or should I get takeaway?”
“Your choice,” Gray said. “I’ll have you and steak either way so I’m happy.”
“I got top billing over steak. I’m flattered.”
“You get top billing period.”
“You’re good for my ego, Gray,” Jack said softly.
The man’s ego could benefit from a whole lot of shoring up, but that wasn’t why Gray had made the comment.
“Daniel’s has your favorite filet and those brussels sprouts you love, but it closes at nine so we don’t have enough time to eat there. How about I call in an order and pick it up on my way?”
Thoughtful and kind on top of brilliant and gorgeous with a side of tender yet tenacious. That was why Jack came first in any list of good things. “That sounds perfect,” Gray said. “I’ll finish up here and head over to your place.”
“Are you sure? I always make you come to my house. I can come to you tonight.”
“Your house is nicer than my condo.”
Not that there was anything wrong with his condo. It was new, tastefully decorated, and immaculately clean. Gray made sure to keep it that way because it was an investment he would live in for two years, rent out for three, and then sell. The condo was his eighth such property. Moving every couple of years would have bothered some people, but Gray didn’t accumulate a lot of personal possessions, so it didn't take much effort. Between the rising Seattle housing market, a hefty tax benefit, and wise purchasing choices, Gray’s portfolio had greatly benefited from his real estate ventures. Lucrative though it was, financial planning wasn’t the primary reason he didn’t settle down in one house.
Like a lot of his life choices over the past two decades, Gray’s living arrangement was based on his end goal of building a life with Jack. When Jack’s doomed relationship had mercifully ended, he and his ex sold their house and Gray helped Jack in his search for a new home. With his budget, Jack was fortunate to have his pick of neighborhoods, but he had wanted to stay in Capitol Hill, so he had patiently waited for a house that felt like a good fit to come on the market. Unfortunately, months passed with nothing seeming right until one evening when Jack had accompanied Gray to a client’s holiday party being held in a historic Georgian style estate.
The house hadn’t been for sale, but Jack adored it, so Gray had tracked down the owner and negotiated the purchase. Not wanting to risk disappointing Jack at a time when he was already hurting, Gray had kept the process to himself until the deal was secure and the only thing needed was a signature and funding. When he told Jack that the dream home was his and a smile graced his favorite face for the first time in nearly a year, Gray knew the hours of effort had been well spent. Over time, Jack had added his touch to the opulent space, making it personal and comfortable. Gray couldn’t imagine Jack moving from his home, so he figured that’s where he’d end up planting roots one day. Any house he owned until then was an investment, not a home.
“My house is bigger, not nicer. Your condo looks like a builder model. Everything’s perfect.”
“That’s the goal,” Gray said. “Gets the fastest closings and the highest offers. But your place is more comfortable, and regardless, I don’t want you to drive alone late at night.”
“It’s a fifteen-minute drive, Gray, I can handle it,” Jack said softly. It was, for lack of a better description, a submissive tone that Jack absolutely never used at work and, for that matter, rarely showed in front of their friends. The gentle, almost whisper surfaced exclusively when Gray said or did something to take care of Jack. He had experienced it in person often enough to know even without seeing him that, in that moment, Jack’s shoulders had lowered, tension from his long day had eased, and a small smile graced his lips. The reward for nurturing Jack satisfied Gray more deeply than the multimillion-dollar client he had signed that morning.