Page 18 of The Blame Game

A perplexed expression crossed her face. “What do you mean?”

“Dom?” Shea croaked. “What’s going on?”

Startled, Dom turned to face the bedroom.

Shea stood in the doorway, shirtless, wearing a pair of Dom’s pajama pants that clung to his thicker muscles in a very distracting way. His hair was a mess and he looked thoroughly rumpled and, well, like he’d spent a very good night in Dom’s bed.

Sure, Kate knew he had sex with men but this was … Fuck. Tired or not, Dom should have warned Shea that Kate was there.

“Sawyer,” Dom said stiffly. “This is Kate Foster. She’s the vice president of communications and public relations.”

Shea managed an uncomfortable smile. “Um, nice to meet you, Kate.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she said politely. “I hope you’re not suffering too many ill-effects from the fire last night.”

“Thank you. No. Just a little lingering cough. I’ll be alright.” He glanced at Dom. “Umm. Can we talk, Dom?”

“Yeah. Give me a minute, please, Kate?”

She nodded. “Would you like a coffee, Sawyer?”

“Uhh, yes please,” he said. “That would be great.”

Dom snagged a coffee, then carried it into the bedroom with Shea on his heels.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Shea said the moment the door was closed. “I didn’t mean … I shouldn’t have come out there. This looks bad and—”

“She knows,” Dom assured him, handing over the coffee.

Shea blinked. “How much?”

“Not everything. But she knows that I—I have sex with men.”

“Sex you pay for?” Shea said under his breath.

Dom kept his voice low too. “No. Not that part. She knows you’re my stylist and probably assumes we’re … fuck buddies or something.”

“Ahh.” The tense lines of Shea’s body softened, and he took a sip of his coffee. “Well, that’s not terrible.”

“No, it’s not. But the reason she’s here isn’t great.”

Shea rubbed his face. “Given her job title, I can probably guess. The news hit the gossip sites?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn it!” Shea set the coffee on the dresser next to the inhaler. “This is exactly what I was afraid of, Dom!”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” Dom argued. “Leave you there to fend for yourself?”

“Well, yeah,” Shea said. “It’s what anyone else would have done.”

Dom gaped at him. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Dom stared, trying to wrap his brain around what Shea was saying. “Are your other clients that shitty and heartless?”

“No. For the most part they were perfectly nice people. They had lives and careers that could be ruined if it got out they were hiring someone for sex.”

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