“You want to work out together?” That too sounded rather date-like and not like the purely physical affair he’d been intending, but he couldn’t deny the way his pulse hopped at the mere thought of more time like this.
“You made the invitation. In public. No one will think anything of it if they see us out jogging. And what we do back here when we’re cleaning up...well, I figure that’s just between us.”
As he took the seat next to him, an image of Jacob in the large shower in the renovated master bath crept into Linc’s brain and took hold, water dripping down Jacob’s muscles as Linc licked... Yeah. That. He had to shift on his stool, force himself to think of other things.
“Yeah. We can do that,” he said gruffly, more turned on than hungry now, cock overriding brain yet again. Body liking the idea of having both—time together and sex, the full package he wasn’t supposed to want, but hell if he could stop the warmth coursing through him. “The pack-out test is coming. You’ll want to do some weights in addition to the run.”
“Right. And your setup is more convenient than my gym in town.” Jacob gave him a wink that he felt all the way to his balls, new set of images flooding his brain of a shirtless Jacob lifting and straining.
“You’re welcome to it.” Shaking his head free of the distracting visions, he tried to focus on the food. But Jacob ate like he kissed—full of gusto, lots of approving noises and pleased sounds that had sex right back on Linc’s brain.
“This is really good. How’d you get so good at cooking anyway?”
“Self-preservation.” Linc took a bite and swallowed before continuing. “After Mom died, it was all crap food around here all the time, and that’s when there was food, when Dad could be bothered to get to the store. Sometimes Victor would make me something easy—grilled cheese, pancakes, spaghetti—when he could be troubled, before he headed down the same fucking path as Dad.”
“Fuckers.” Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “You were only a kid when she died. Feeding you shouldn’t have been an afterthought.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly choose that fate. And not liking to live on frozen burritos, I learned to cook. And wonder of wonders, I didn’t burn the house down in the process. In high school, I had a job bussing tables at that old diner on Fir Street in town. Cook there taught me some things that have come in handy.”
“I’m glad someone was there to help you. But seriously, fuck your family.” Jacob looked ready to kick ass on his behalf, and he didn’t even know the half of it.
“Eh. I lived through it.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about Jacob as a champion. Tough and fearless, he’d always been ready to fight, but seeing him all indignant on Linc’s behalf was...something. Made his back tighten. “You, though, you’ve got no excuse not knowing how to cook. Your mom’s stuff is always tasty.”
“Ha. She had four other kitchen helpers, plus Dad. It was easy enough to get out of cooking chores. I guess I was spoiled that way. And even now, it’s easier to drop her some hints than to try to do a big meal on the little stove in the trailer.”
“She likes feeding you, likes you coming around.” He ignored the kick of wistfulness that often came when thinking of Jenna and the Hartman brood. For the first time though, he wasn’t sure which he envied more—her kids for getting to have her or her for having so many people she loved to feed and take care of, even now after so much loss.
While they finished the food, they talked some more about the family and dishes Jenna made particularly well, heading down memory lane to memorable parties and holiday gatherings. Somehow, the memories didn’t sting quite as much as usual, all the places in his soul where Wyatt still lurked. Maybe because Jacob shared them, had his own bittersweet remembrances and his own reasons for missing Wyatt. And maybe because Jacob made it easier to focus on the good parts, the memories that didn’t hurt so much. Making each other laugh with the stories was a lot more fun than sitting here alone stewing, that was for sure.
“Dude, you have cake!” Jacob grinned at him as they put the food away, crowing like a pirate discovering hidden treasure. “Did you make it?”
“Nah. The lady I get eggs from, sometimes she gets a mind to do some baking. I fixed a leaky faucet for her Wednesday, and she had that spice cake for me. You want some?”
“Uh-huh.” Jacob cut a single large hunk of cake and grabbed two forks before heading to the living room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” More curious than irritated, Linc followed behind him.