Page 40 of Finding Michael

Where would he live while he got the center up and running? “Not yet.” What if he didn’t want to sell? What if the possibility of sticking around kept getting more enticing?

“Think about it. The house would bring a quick influx of cash.” Jamie flicked his hair off his forehead. “It’s the best move.”

“Is anyone in Sullavan buying?” He’d seen plenty offor salesigns, but nosoldones.

“No, but we can get it listed as a summer hideaway,” Jamie said. “People want those. Affluent people trying to flee the city will snap it up.”

Christ.He didn’t want to hear that information. He massaged his temples. “Just work on the community center. I’ll figure out the house.”

“Fine.” Jamie kissed Tristan. “Then we fuck. Meet me at my condo.”

“Uh—I have to take care of here. Let’s postpone the victory sex until the end of the journey.” Or at least until he had no other options. Sad, but true…he wasn’t interested in Jamie.

“No Michael.” Jamie shook his head. “It’s not going to work.”

“I’m currently seeing him, so yeah, he’s going to be involved.” Tristan’s patience was wearing thin.

“We’ll see. You may not be together forever.”

“Right.” He walked Jamie to the door. “Good night. Keep me posted on the community center.”

“Will do.” Jamie flashed him another smile.

Tristan ducked before Jamie could kiss him again. Once Jamie stepped off the porch, Tristan locked the front door and checked the back one, too. He needed separation. Jamie had given him the keys, but for all Tristan knew, he’d kept a set for himself. Tristan rolled his shoulders. He didn’t have time for this crap.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Jamie had said.Michael isn’t good enough? What bullshit.Jamie wasn’t exactly a catch. The man was too full of himself. He’d be a handful in a relationship as well as bed and not in a good way.

Tristan checked the time. Five minutes to five. If he tried to write, he’d lose focus the moment Michael arrived. If he went the speech mode and had the computer transcribe his words, he might get something done. Then again, he might not. He dragged his computer into the study.

Despite opening the program and setting everything up, the story refused to flow.Damn it.Tristan stared at the bookshelves. The sheer volume of stuff in the room overwhelmed him.

His phone beeped. He frowned. Hadn’t he set the device to silent? He checked the icons. One text. He pulled up the message.

You’re not writing. I’m angry.

What the hell?Tristan growled and reread the message. Whoever had sent it hadn’t bothered to list their name or their number.Why…how…fuck.

“Tristan?”

He jumped and tossed the phone onto the armchair. “Leave me the hell alone.”Shit. He should at least answer the door before shouting at the person on the other side. He strode out of the study.

“Fine. I’ll go.” A shadow moved in front of the front door. “Sorry.”

Michael. “No, wait.” He needed someone familiar—someone named Michael. “Sorry.” He unlocked and opened the door. “Hey, you.”

Michael shook his head and laughed. “For a guy who likes me, you have a strange way of showing it. I could develop a complex.” He stepped into the house and held up a paper bag. “I also brought the fixings for mac and cheese.”

“I’m thrilled. I’ve had a day.” He kissed Michael. The tingle was there and if he wasn’t mistaken, it had grown stronger. “But the day got a whole lot better now that you’re here.”

“I’m glad.” Michael toyed with the bag. “I wasn’t sure if you liked mac and cheese, but it’s one of the few things I can cook. Heck, I wasn’t even sure you’d want to eat it. You’re all into healthy stuff…aren’t you?”

“Just because I lived in the city and had a chef doesn’t mean I’m a health nut. I can cheat. Besides, I love mac and cheese,” Tristan said. “I haven’t had it in years.”

“Well, then it’ll be a cheat day.”

“Nah.” He took the bag from Michael and clasped Michael’s hand. “It’ll be perfect.” He led Michael into the kitchen. “I haven’t got much. Most of the refrigerated stuff had to be tossed and the pantry items won’t help make anything with cheese, but I do have a lot of wine. Alotof wine.”

Michael chuckled. “He did like his different flavors.”

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