Hotter Than Ever
Page 20
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The sofa cushions dipped as Aidan leaned forward to grab his Coke can from the glass coffee table. He took a sip, watching Claire in curiosity. “What is it you do for a living?”
She chewed and swallowed before answering, and Dylan suddenly noticed the kind of sandwich she’d prepared. “No jam?” he asked warily.
“Nope. I don’t like jam.”
“Neither do I.”
They looked at each other for a few seconds, neither one speaking. Then Claire turned to address Aidan. “Anyway, I work at a consulting firm.”
“Cool. What does that mean exactly? What do you do there?”
A huge grin filled her face. “Consult.”
She looked so proud with her answer Dylan couldn’t help but laugh. So did Aidan, who took another sip of his soda and said, “Care to elaborate?”
She shoved the last piece of bread into her mouth, then set her plate on the table and got comfortable again. “My firm helps organizations operate more efficiently, in terms of overhead or management or certain protocols. Basically I visit a company and conduct an analysis of their internal workings, and then I tell them how they can do better.”
“Sounds interesting.” Aidan looked impressed.
“Sometimes it is. But sometimes it’s boring.”
Aidan laughed and glanced over at Dylan. “Hey, look at that, you two have another thing in common.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” he asked suspiciously.
“You’re both capable of holding serious, articulate conversations even when you’re drunk as skunks.”
“Hey,” Claire protested, “I’m not drunk as skunks. I mean, as a skunk.” Her dainty eyebrows knitted together. “Wait, do skunks get drunk? Why is that even a phrase?”
“Because it rhymes?” Aidan suggested.
She pursed her lips in thought, then nodded. “Yes, that makes sense.”
Another burst of involuntary laughter flew out of Dylan’s mouth.
Shit. He really shouldn’t be getting any enjoyment out of this conversation. He wasn’t supposed to like this woman, damn it.
Deciding he needed a reminder about who he was dealing with, he looked at Claire and said, “So why did you get into consulting? I bet it was for the money, right?”
“Nope. I got into it because I like ordering people around. Can you believe it? I found the one job that pays me to be a know-it-all.” With another beaming smile, she hopped off the chair like an energetic little kid. “I’m thirsty.”
Aidan chuckled as she darted toward the kitchen. When Dylan saw the familiar glint in the other man’s eyes, he stifled a groan and issued another low warning. “Come on, man, not her. This morning she nearly became my sister-in-law.” He checked to make sure Claire was out of earshot, then added, “And I don’t like her.”
“Too bad,” Aidan murmured. “’Cause I like her a lot, bro.”
Their hushed conversation died when Claire strode back into the room with a tall glass of water. She sat, took a tiny ladylike sip, then watched them both with a thoughtful expression, for so long that Dylan shifted in discomfort.
“Stop staring,” he grumbled. “It’s rude.”
“But I just can’t figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
“Are you two g*y or what?”
The question came out of left field, but it didn’t raise his guard or provoke any indignation. If anything, he was surprised she hadn’t voiced it sooner, especially after the scene she’d witnessed a couple of months ago.
On the other end of the couch, Aidan was laughing again. “I don’t know. Hey, Dylan, are we g*y?”
For a moment he was too distracted by that husky laughter to respond. Aidan had laughed more today in Claire’s presence than in the entire month Dylan had been living with him. Not that the guy was Grumpy McGrumps or anything, but the one thing Dylan had learned since moving in? Aidan Rhodes was intense. And haunted. Something was definitely haunting him, but Dylan had yet to decipher the shadows he often glimpsed in those chocolate-brown eyes.
He knew Aidan was hiding a lot of pain behind his seductive, laid-back exterior, but getting the man to talk about his emotions was like trying to train a goldfish—futile and exasperating.
“Are you making fun of me?” Claire sounded hurt as she looked from one man to the other.
Aidan grinned. “Naah, just teasing.”
“You still haven’t answered the question.” Now her big, russet-colored eyes were focused on Dylan. “Are you g*y?”
He shook his head.
“Bisexual then?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he answered with a shrug.
She glanced at Aidan. “Are you bi, too?”
“Yup,” he confirmed.
“Huh.” Propping her elbow on the arm of the recliner, she rested her chin in her palm and continued to study them. “Okay, so you both like women.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Yes.”
“But you also like men.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “And you have sex with each other.”
All right, now he was starting to feel rattled. The way Claire was staring made him feel like a specimen under a microscope.
“Where are you going with this?” he said irritably.
“I don’t know. I just have so many questions and they keep popping out of my mouth.” She straightened up and clasped both hands in her lap. “Which one of you is the bottom?”
She chewed and swallowed before answering, and Dylan suddenly noticed the kind of sandwich she’d prepared. “No jam?” he asked warily.
“Nope. I don’t like jam.”
“Neither do I.”
They looked at each other for a few seconds, neither one speaking. Then Claire turned to address Aidan. “Anyway, I work at a consulting firm.”
“Cool. What does that mean exactly? What do you do there?”
A huge grin filled her face. “Consult.”
She looked so proud with her answer Dylan couldn’t help but laugh. So did Aidan, who took another sip of his soda and said, “Care to elaborate?”
She shoved the last piece of bread into her mouth, then set her plate on the table and got comfortable again. “My firm helps organizations operate more efficiently, in terms of overhead or management or certain protocols. Basically I visit a company and conduct an analysis of their internal workings, and then I tell them how they can do better.”
“Sounds interesting.” Aidan looked impressed.
“Sometimes it is. But sometimes it’s boring.”
Aidan laughed and glanced over at Dylan. “Hey, look at that, you two have another thing in common.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” he asked suspiciously.
“You’re both capable of holding serious, articulate conversations even when you’re drunk as skunks.”
“Hey,” Claire protested, “I’m not drunk as skunks. I mean, as a skunk.” Her dainty eyebrows knitted together. “Wait, do skunks get drunk? Why is that even a phrase?”
“Because it rhymes?” Aidan suggested.
She pursed her lips in thought, then nodded. “Yes, that makes sense.”
Another burst of involuntary laughter flew out of Dylan’s mouth.
Shit. He really shouldn’t be getting any enjoyment out of this conversation. He wasn’t supposed to like this woman, damn it.
Deciding he needed a reminder about who he was dealing with, he looked at Claire and said, “So why did you get into consulting? I bet it was for the money, right?”
“Nope. I got into it because I like ordering people around. Can you believe it? I found the one job that pays me to be a know-it-all.” With another beaming smile, she hopped off the chair like an energetic little kid. “I’m thirsty.”
Aidan chuckled as she darted toward the kitchen. When Dylan saw the familiar glint in the other man’s eyes, he stifled a groan and issued another low warning. “Come on, man, not her. This morning she nearly became my sister-in-law.” He checked to make sure Claire was out of earshot, then added, “And I don’t like her.”
“Too bad,” Aidan murmured. “’Cause I like her a lot, bro.”
Their hushed conversation died when Claire strode back into the room with a tall glass of water. She sat, took a tiny ladylike sip, then watched them both with a thoughtful expression, for so long that Dylan shifted in discomfort.
“Stop staring,” he grumbled. “It’s rude.”
“But I just can’t figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
“Are you two g*y or what?”
The question came out of left field, but it didn’t raise his guard or provoke any indignation. If anything, he was surprised she hadn’t voiced it sooner, especially after the scene she’d witnessed a couple of months ago.
On the other end of the couch, Aidan was laughing again. “I don’t know. Hey, Dylan, are we g*y?”
For a moment he was too distracted by that husky laughter to respond. Aidan had laughed more today in Claire’s presence than in the entire month Dylan had been living with him. Not that the guy was Grumpy McGrumps or anything, but the one thing Dylan had learned since moving in? Aidan Rhodes was intense. And haunted. Something was definitely haunting him, but Dylan had yet to decipher the shadows he often glimpsed in those chocolate-brown eyes.
He knew Aidan was hiding a lot of pain behind his seductive, laid-back exterior, but getting the man to talk about his emotions was like trying to train a goldfish—futile and exasperating.
“Are you making fun of me?” Claire sounded hurt as she looked from one man to the other.
Aidan grinned. “Naah, just teasing.”
“You still haven’t answered the question.” Now her big, russet-colored eyes were focused on Dylan. “Are you g*y?”
He shook his head.
“Bisexual then?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he answered with a shrug.
She glanced at Aidan. “Are you bi, too?”
“Yup,” he confirmed.
“Huh.” Propping her elbow on the arm of the recliner, she rested her chin in her palm and continued to study them. “Okay, so you both like women.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Yes.”
“But you also like men.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “And you have sex with each other.”
All right, now he was starting to feel rattled. The way Claire was staring made him feel like a specimen under a microscope.
“Where are you going with this?” he said irritably.
“I don’t know. I just have so many questions and they keep popping out of my mouth.” She straightened up and clasped both hands in her lap. “Which one of you is the bottom?”