Page 42 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them
Mrs. Castor’s voice, normally a warm alto, changed instantly to high-pitched excitement. “Oh, he’s at the house?He’ll stay the night, then?”
“He will, yes.”
Mrs. Castor laughed in delight—cackled, really—before saying, “Excellent. That means I can finally meet him in person. What’s he like?André showed me a picture, but what’s your impression?”
“Very polite, and he has a beautiful smile. I see why Master André’s so taken with him. Shall I set the table for the whole family tomorrow morning, then?”
“For this, I’ll move my morning meeting. I am not passing up the opportunity to talk with him. I’ll tell my husband, too, as I’m sure he’ll feel the same. Excellent work, Im. Go ahead and go to bed; we’ll let ourselves in.”
“Of course, ma’am. Good night.” Im hung up the phone with satisfaction. Both of her boys now had good boyfriends.
With a smile, she went about locking doors and turning off lights, shutting the house down for the night. Only then did she think to message Master Benedict and give him a head’s up that the parents were meeting André’s boyfriend in the morning. Just in case he wanted to join them.
She was more than pleased with herself as she went to bed.
Chapter 12
Ian was somewhat used to sharing a bed, just from the group home days, where kitten piles often happened. He settled right in with André without an issue. André was surprisingly a nice bed companion because he hadn’t moved much during the night.
It was morning, he could tell from the light streaming in from the window, and Ian entertained the idea of possibly getting up. His interest was lax in the extreme as, really, he was quite comfortable where he was. André was also fun to look at. He was oh-so mussed and touchable, not at all like the polished image he presented to the outside world. Ian had the strangest urge to poke him. Just because he was pokable.
Ian’s ears perked as he heard movement near the door.
“Just let me wake them.” Benedict’s muffled voice was unmistakable and exasperated.
In full mischief mode, Felix said, “What? I’m not stopping you.”
“No, but you’ve got your phone in your hand, and I don’t trust you.”
“You’ll be nice and just tap on the door. I know you. This is a prime opportunity to tease André, and I’m not passing up on it.”
“Felix, can you please behave?”
“Stop being so mean to me,” Felix said with a whine. “It makes me want to be mean back.”
What the hell were Benedict and Felix doing here? Ian had been under the impression they lived in an apartment. That’s what Felix had told him, anyway.
He rose up on an elbow, turning to look toward the door. Should he somehow circumvent them from coming in? He didn’t really want Felix taking pictures of them.
André groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Damn bratty brother. FELIX! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!”
Felix cackled outside in the hallway. “But I want to!”
“Benedict, for the love of god, sit on your bundle of mischief.”
“Don’t worry,” Benedict called. “I won’t let him in, but come down. Ian’s breakfast is almost ready.”
“Fine, fine.” André grumbled something uncharitable. “I’d hoped for morning sex, dammit.”
Ian leaned in to smack a kiss against his mouth. “We’re out of time, apparently. Next time. Shower first or after me?”
“Go. I’m still trying to think of a good way to get revenge on Felix.”
“He didn’t do anything, though?”
“Only because Benedict stopped him. Trust me. He would have.”
After a judicious amount of thought—at least two seconds—Ian decided he wasn’t getting in the middle of this. The sibling war could proceed without him. He chose to kiss André again before sliding free of the bed and heading for the shower.
