Cookies for Courting (7 page)

“Touch me,” Pace said, his voice low and needy.

“I am touching you.” Marshall’s fingers went through his hair, along his back. One invasive digit slid down Pace’s crack.

He bucked against the sensation.

“Sorry, do you not bottom?” Marshall’s curious gaze indicated he really meant his question.

“I never have before.” He decided to go with the truth. People saw a smaller man and expected Pace to bottom, but the rare times he’d trusted someone enough for anal sex, he’d always been on top. He generally kept to rubbing off, blowjobs, and casual hookups that didn’t even need a full stripping down for both parties to get off.

“Seriously?” Marshall leaned back to gaze into Pace’s eyes. “Never.”

“Not that I won’t. Just that I never have before. I mean, I’m not saving myself or anything.” He wasn’t a naïve idiot. He was just careful.

“Well, your first time won’t be on a futon,” Marshall said. “Do you have lube?”

Pace reached up and grabbed a bottle off the shelf.

“Keep lube handy?”

Pace shrugged. “Sometimes I need to jack off.”

Marshall groaned. “I want to see that sometime.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged. I do it every once in a while.” Pace wiggled his eyebrows at Marshall.

He laughed, then kissed Pace on the forehead. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much.”

“I’m glad.” Other than art, laughter was the best part of life.

“Me too.” Marshall kissed Pace and grabbed the lube. He only broke away long enough to see what he was doing. “Next time, there will be a bed, music, and lots of condoms.”

“Sounds good,” Pace agreed, stealing another kiss.

Marshall coated his palm with lube, then wrapped his hand around their erections. He distracted Pace by kissing him again. Damn, the man could kiss.

Unable to resist Marshall’s touch, Pace orgasmed with embarrassing speed. He gasped against Marshall’s lips, trying to catch his breath.

Marshall came seconds afterward. Then lay there panting. “Do you have a towel?”

“Hmm. Oh, yeah.” That was one thing Pace had tons of. He used rags for everything. He pulled one off a pile on his bookcase and handed it over. He grabbed another one for himself.

His brain had derailed watching Marshall lie naked on his futon. “Sorry, I was distracted by you.”

Marshall cupped Pace’s cheek. “Feel free to be distracted by me anytime.”

“I might take you up on that.” Pace wouldn’t mind a repeat. The man was sex personified.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get going.” Marshall stood up.

Pace joined him. “No, I understand. You have a little girl to take care of.”

Marshall nodded. “It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rather stay here.” He glanced over at the futon. “Well, not here but in your bed.”

“Understood.” Pace pulled on his pants and watched mournfully as Marshall tidied himself up.

“I’ll see you next week?” Marshall asked.

“Yes, I’ll be there to work on the mural. You can tell Alice I’ll be there Monday.”

“I will,” Marshall said. “She’ll be thrilled.”

Pace watched Marshall leave with a heavy heart. Not because he had to leave, but because of the reason. If he became involved with Marshall, he’d have to be involved with Alice too. It wasn’t that he didn’t like children, he just hadn’t been around them much. If he and Marshall ever got past the frottage stage, he would have to get used to having a little girl in his life. They were a package deal, and Pace didn’t know if he was ready for that kind of commitment. Being a father, or even co-parenting of any kind, had never been in his life plan.

Pace shrugged, pushing aside his deep introspection for another day. That night he’d finish his painting and enjoy his memories of rolling around on his futon with the gorgeous man.

M
ARSHALL
TRIED
to focus on the numbers on his screen, but they kept insisting on twirling and twisting about. He also couldn’t find a proper nanny for anything.

“Don’t give up yet,” Joyce said. “We’ve only interviewed five nannies.”

“But statistically, those were the cream of the crop. It doesn’t give me much hope for the quality of future applicants.”

Joyce settled into a chair on the other side of his desk. “We’ll find someone. It can’t be that hard. It’s not like Alice needs full-time care. She only has to have someone there when she gets home and to take her to after-school activities.”

“I know what she needs,” Marshall said. “But whenever I ask anyone for possible references, they tell me all the good nannies are taken.”

“That’s because those bitches don’t want to share,” Joyce argued. “They’re too busy trying to get into your pants to become Mrs. Hunter.”

Marshall thought about his time with Pace. There was a man he’d let into his pants any time. “I’m just getting frustrated.”

“You need a partner. A househusband who could be home and take care of things.”

Marshall laughed. “Can you imagine any of those guys I date staying home to take care of a little girl?”

“None of your current guys. But a little birdie told me a certain artist has caught your attention.”

He gave his assistant a narrow-eyed glare. “You know better than to listen to gossip.”

“Usually, but this came from a good source.”

“I don’t even want to know. Besides, Pace is an artist. He has a job. I doubt he wants to look after a little girl.”

“Maybe or maybe not. Alice likes him. That’s more than we can say of the others. Why don’t you ask?”

Marshall didn’t know how to respond without sounding petty. He wanted Pace for himself, not for his niece. If he hired Pace to watch over Alice, there was even less chance of a repeat of the futon.

“Just give it some thought.” Joyce stood up. “He’ll be at your house later. You can ask him then.”

“Maybe.” The past few days had gone by with nothing but an e-mail from Pace stating when he’d be by to work on the mural. Nothing personal had been included in the message. True, Marshall didn’t call him either, which put him in the category of asshole, but truly he just didn’t know what to say. How could he tell a near stranger that a moment of quick sex was the best time of his life?

“I’ll go grab those reports. I have them all ready.” Joyce said before stepping out of the room.

Marshall turned his attention back to his screen, not really seeing what was on it. Instead, his mind focused on the memory of Pace lying on the futon all rumpled, looking sexier than any man had a right to. Damn, he had it bad.

He reached for his phone, then paused and put his hand back on the keyboard. Better to talk to Pace in person. Hopefully, the artist would give him a chance. He wondered if Pace liked children: they didn’t have time to discuss that before. Or when’d they had time, they hadn’t had the inclination.

Groaning, Marshall turned off his computer. It was time to go home anyway. Since Alice didn’t have a nanny, Marshall had to be there when she got home. It wasn’t the hardship he had thought it would be in the beginning; he liked having any excuse to leave at a reasonable time. Left to his own devices, he would be working until midnight. One of the many reasons he didn’t have a boyfriend.

Joyce handed him some files on the way out the door. He could examine those when he got home.

The elevator took its usual leisurely time from his office floor to the garage. He nodded to the employees he knew but didn’t talk to them. He didn’t want to encourage conversation. A quick chat in the elevator too often turned into a long conversation in the garage, and he didn’t have the time.

Alice was waiting for him when he got home. She sat on a kitchen barstool, eating a grilled cheese sandwich. “When’s Pace coming?”

“Tonight. He wanted to wait until you got off school.” Marshall tried to push the hurt to the side. After all, Marshall was the one who said not to mix business with pleasure. Pace was just abiding by his rules even if Marshall was ready to abandon them now.

Alice clapped. “I’m so excited. When’s my new nanny starting?”

“I don’t know. We still haven’t found one we like.”

“Good, I like you here.” Alice took another bite of grilled cheese as if that settled the matter.

Ilona smiled but didn’t speak.

“I like me here too, but I have to work, so we need someone to watch you for a few hours each day.”

“What about Pace?”

“Have you been talking to Joyce?” Why did everyone think the artist would make a great nanny?

“No.”

Before he could ask any other questions, there was a knock at the door. Ilona was scrubbing dishes.

“I’ll get it.” He opened the door to find Pace on the other side, his portfolio tucked under one arm. “Come on in.” He stepped back to allow the artist inside and barely resisted the urge to kiss him hello.

“Thank you. I have the final draft for the mural. I think Alice will like it.” His words were ordinary, but his gaze ate Marshall up. If Marshall hadn’t already known they had explosive chemistry, he would’ve from Pace’s expression.

“Hi, Pace,” Alice said.

“Hi, sweetie. I think I have the perfect sketch for you.”

“Yay!” Alice hopped up and down the hall, squealing with delight.

“I think she’s excited,” Marshall said.

“It does seem that way,” Pace agreed.

They followed Alice to her bedroom where they kneeled on the floor and Pace opened his portfolio, then pulled out a large picture. This time instead of just a sketch, he’d gone ahead and filled it in with paint.

“Wow, you did a lot since we last met.” Marshall couldn’t help tracing the bold lines of the painting.

Even though this was completely different artwork than the painting he’d snagged from that Russian bastard, it still showed remarkable talent.

“Ooh,” Alice exclaimed. “It’s so pretty. Put it on my wall!”

“Are you sure this is how you want it?”

“Yes!”

“All right, then, let’s clear out space.”

“How are you going to transfer this to the wall?”

Pace shrugged. “Now that I have the look, I can start measuring out the dimensions and make an outline on the wall. Sometimes I use a projector, but I think this time I’m just going to go by my painting.”

“Huh. Interesting.” Of course there was little he didn’t find interesting about Pace. Why would his artistic process be any different?

They spent the next ten minutes moving everything away from the wall far enough that Pace could put a drop cloth down when he was ready.

“Where are your paints?” Marshall asked.

Pace blushed. “I left them at home. I didn’t think the approval process would be so fast. But don’t worry. I can call a friend and have him bring some of them over.”

“Great.” He didn’t want to hear Alice fuss about Pace not starting tonight. He had enough worries with the nanny situation to deal with at the moment.

“Let me just call my friend.”

“You can use my study,” Marshall said. “It will give you a little privacy at least.”

“Thank you.”

Marshall led Pace to his office, then left him at the door. “I’ll be in the kitchen with Alice when you’re done.”

Pace nodded.

There were so many things Marshall wanted to say, but he walked off instead. Now wasn’t the time. Maybe later wouldn’t be either.

Alice was back to eating her sandwich.

“I put lasagna in the oven. Take it out in twenty minutes,” Ilona said, gathering up her purse. “Put dishes in sink, and I’ll do them in the morning.”

Marshall had no intention of leaving them for Ilona, but he nodded. It wasn’t worth an argument. He’d just do them.

Instead, he bid her good night and began working on a salad. He smiled when Pace joined him in the kitchen.

“Do you like lasagna?”

Pace froze midstep. “Of course, what kind of idiot doesn’t?”

Marshall smiled. “Not me. Did you get hold of your friend?”

“Yeah, Sandy’s on his way.”

“And he has a key to your studio?” He hated to ask, but he hated even worse not knowing. Sandy had seemed proprietary at the auction.

“Yes, I’ve known him forever.”

“Lasagna will be ready in a bit. Would you like a glass of wine?”

Pace shook his head. “I want to be lucid when I outline the castle. Thank you, though.”

“Pace, will you be my nanny?” Alice asked.

“What?” Pace turned to face the little girl, his eyes wide.

“We’re still on the nanny hunt,” Marshall explained.

“Oh, I see.”

“So can you be my nanny?” Alice asked again.

“I’m not exactly nanny material. I don’t know much about little girls,” Pace said.

“I told you, Alice, we’ll find someone.” Marshall didn’t want Pace to feel pressured.

“Having problems?” Pace’s sympathetic face almost broke Marshall. It felt good to have someone to share his burdens with. He knew he shouldn’t expect too much from the carefree artist, but in that moment, it felt good.

“That’s putting things mildly. I think all the good nannies have gone into hiding.”

Pace laughed. He moved the salt and pepper shakers around on the bar. “I can ask my stepmother. She might know someone.”

“I would appreciate that. Any help would be great.”

“I’m finished,” Alice said. “Can I go watch cartoons?”

“Sure,” Marshall agreed.

“You don’t want any lasagna?” Pace asked, appalled.

Marshall laughed. “Alice doesn’t like pasta.”

Pace poked Alice in the stomach. “Are you an alien?”

Alice giggled. “No.”

He poked her again. “A mutant?”

Alice giggled some more. “No!” She wiggled out of Pace’s reach. “I’m going to the couch.”

“I’ll get you, you alien!” Pace shouted.

Alice’s mad laughter followed her down the hall as she ran to get out of Pace’s reach.

He settled back down on his stool and exchanged smiles with Marshall. “She’s adorable. How are you doing? Really?”

Marshall shrugged. “You want a salad?”

Pace jumped down off the stool and walked around the counter to give Marshall a hug. “It must be hard. Being a single parent is never easy, or at least that’s what I’ve observed. I can’t say from personal experience.”