Page 59 of Hearts of Fairlake

"Because we so rarely give them to each other, and I know how much you love them because of how your mother grew them like they were going extinct," Ethan said with a laugh. "And the lanterns are more cozy than overhead lights or the blue light from screens."

"And you're here to work, side by side with me?" I asked, not caring that I sounded dubious becauseI was.

"Of course," he said with a grin, leaning back in his seat to tap something on the screen. "Of course, you'll probably want your chair back, won't you?"

"That would be a fair assumption, yes," I said dryly, fighting not to roll my eyes at him. He was clearly up to something but no amount of prodding, poking, or growling was going to make him tell. I would simply have to wait and see what his plan was and hope it wasn'ttoodevious.

"By all means," he said, sliding the chair back and standing up. "I'll take the couch."

I stared at him as I finally saw what I’d been missing, or rather what he’d been missing the whole time, though I hadn't known it...his pants. "Ethan?"

"Hmm?"

"Where are your pants?"

"Oh, since we're probably going to be here for a while, I thought I might as well make myself comfortable. It's not likewe'll be interrupted. I'm sure you managed to chase off anyone from interrupting you while you work," he said, glancing down at himself...like it was no big deal. Like he wasn't pantsless in my office, which was a rarity, and wearing a jockstrap no less, which was something he rarely wore unless he was doing an intensive workout...or trying to mess with me.

Which was not my fault. It was his...or his genetics fault...or his workout. Honestly, whatever was responsible for him having the finest ass in the country was to blame, and even if I hadn't lavished attention on it in the past, I was obvious about my love of his ass. Ethan was shrewd enough to catch on. So now I was stuck watching as he walked around the desk, purposefully giving me an eye full of his ass, the faint blond hairs glittering in the lantern light, cheeks bouncing in a way that made me want to reach out and grab a handful or slap one to see how well they really bounced.

I took a drink of the whiskey and swallowed hard. “At least now I know what you're up to."

"I already told you that," he said, dropping onto the couch he'd insisted I get for my office for those nights when I stubbornly stayed behind and slept there. I had to admit, the damn thingwascomfortable as hell. He leaned back, crossing an ankle over a knee and resting the tablet in the crook of his legs so he could type. That covered his ass, of course, but it didn't mean I loved his thighs and calves any less. “I'm here to try to get some work done while you do the same."

Right, so we were going with the innocent act, which if I knew Ethan, would be pretty damn believable. The man had some fine skills at pretending, but it was impossible to act like he wasn't up to something when he was sitting in my office in his underwear and an undershirt.

"Good," I grunted, deciding that if he was going to play, I would ignore him, and I dropped into my seat. Only toimmediately grunt when I turned on my screen and found myself blinded by the bright light after my eyes had adjusted to the lamplight. "Are they actual flames?"

"Don't worry, the glass is shatterproof, and the doors are locked, so they can't open. You'd have to heave them with all your might even to dent them. You'll have no fires in your office tonight," he said as he scrolled through something on his screen.

"I've had enough fires in here to last a lifetime," I muttered as I opened the menu and changed it to night mode, which dimmed the brightness. The relief was immediate, and I opened what I needed to go over the reports and emails I’d fallen behind on.

One wouldn't think a small-town police chief would have to deal with a lot of paperwork, but one would be wrong. There were always minor incidents happening all over Fairlake, especially in the more rundown parts where we were still trying to break the stranglehold of the drug trade. But there were also plenty of drunks, domestic disturbances, traffic accidents, and other crimes and calls to the cops. Most of it was routed through me as I ensured officer reports were neat, but I also reported to the government what was happening.

Of course, that had only increased with the festival and the planning I had to do to cover security. Fred had been insistent that the police force in Fairlake and Fovel would be enough to cover everything without needing to get extra security, something I disagreed with but didn't have much say in. So, I was left to manage logistics, pay for those extra hours, make financial reports, plan for future expenses, and do a host of other things stacked on top of everything else.

I had damn near forgotten about Ethan until movement caught my eye, and I looked up to see him twist onto his back, one leg sliding to rest his foot on the ground, the othergoing over the back of the chair. All considerations about whether or not I had enough coverage for the east-end burbs fell away as I stared at the neon green pouch covering his groin with all the subtlety of a hot poker to the nose.

"Whatare you doing?" I asked, trying not to do it between gritted teeth but not succeeding.

He let out a breath between lips I was quickly beginning to imagine wrapped around me. “Eh, can't decide which topic to write on. Ever since people caught wind of the fact that I'm with a guy, it's pretty much all gay-related stuff."

"Is that a problem?"

"It is when the last few big pieces I wrote were on sex trafficking. And then war crimes. This stuff is already depressing, but do you know how much worse it can be to write about it when it hits close to home?"

That, at least, was sufficient to take the sting out of the horny tail growing inside me. It was easier to remember that much of his work had been incredibly dangerous and cling to that whenever he talked about taking on another piece. It was a lot harder to talk about the effects his work had on him. Not that he wasn't resilient as hell and could put up with a lot more horror in the world than I ever could, but it still wore away at him, little by little. The last thing I wanted was for him to end up so worn down by all of it that he was left with bitterness and cynicism.

"There is one on the top foods I've enjoyed around the world," he said, and against all odds, he managed to make itworsefor me by rolling over. "It's a fluff piece, but you know? I might just be in the mood for some fluff pieces."

Dear God, now I had no choice but to stare at the very thing that tempted me even when he was wearing the baggiest shorts imaginable and doing the most banal things like putting away groceries. Except now it was completely bare thanks to the jock, and his position had it practicallystaring at me as he began to hum and...Christ, now he was wiggling his hips slightly like he always did when laying down and thinking.

I had to tear my eyes away from the sight to look at my screen. The problem was my brain's higher functions were not working, and the words on the screen might as well have been in a long-dead language no one spoke or understood anymore. Even the graphs I vaguely remembered were the predicted monthly expense reports, looked more like smears of colors and lines without any meaning or reason.

I was warm all over, and it went without saying that my uniform pants were unbelievably tight and restrictive as I sat there, trying to make sense of what I saw. The problem was, I could still see him out of the corner of my eyes, not enough to make out details but enough to know he wasstill wiggling.

"God save me," I muttered, covering my face and knowing that despite my insistence to the contrary, I was losing badly.

"What was that?" he asked as he began tapping on the keyboard, apparently already starting his fluff piece.

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