Page 102 of Slow Heat
Panting, Jason broke free. “Goodbye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Vale released him but said nothing, falling back, still smelling of Jason’s come.
Zephyr nearly tripped him as he left the messy house on Oak Avenue and headed home. Clearly, she didn’t really want him to leave.
Alphas on the street sniffed and stared after him with gleaming amusement in their eyes, but Jason didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. He’d made Vale Aman come again, and he’d fingered his ass, and he’d nearly extracted a promise that they would contract tomorrow.
It didn’t matter that he was going to be late to The Feast of the Expectant Wolf, or that Pater was probably going to be smoking, or that Father was going to yell. It’d been a damn good day.
Absolutely nothing could ruin it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dinner was strange.
And it wasn’t because of the mélange of odors Jason was sporting when he got home. It wasn’t even because he’d been late. And it wasn’t because he’d violated protocols with Vale. No, he’d managed to dodge all those bullets so far.
Both his parents had been holed up in Father’s study when he arrived, the scent of dinner nowhere in the air. Confused, but relieved not to be bombarded with questions and knowing eyes, he’d dashed upstairs to take some alpha quell before wallowing in the bliss of the combination of his and Vale’s aromas all over his clothes and skin for a few minutes before showering.
After the shower, and once he could think straight, he stuffed all but the shirt he’d been wearing into the new-fangled washing machine Father had bought several years back. He shoved the come-covered shirt under his pillow, hoping his parents would stay out of his room until he’d had a chance to enjoy it more.
But then he’d arrived in the dining room and discovered that not only was there no feast, but there were no seasonal decorations. The Expectant Wolf candelabra Pater always put in the middle of the table wasn’t out. The arrangements were several days old and not as nearly nice as the ones they’d had for the feast last week when Vale had been a guest.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t natural. But when his parents had finally arrived in the dining room with only a strange variety of reheated leftovers to dish out from their nicest serving plates, the air had been so thick and tense that Jason hadn’t dared to ask what was going on for fear of hearing itwashis fault.
Surely all of this strangeness wasn’t just because of what he’d gotten up to at Vale’s? Obviously, there was no way to cover the marks on his chin, but a few kisses couldn’t bring on this kind of tension, could they? If his parents knew all they’d done, he supposed they might be angry enough to cause problems. But if so, where was the lecture? The yelling? The suggestions that Vale wasn’t suitable? All he had was this aching silence.
Jason hoped if he was quiet enough, maybe they’d just let it go. After all, negotiations continued tomorrow, and if they went smoothly then it would all be a moot point.
His stomach tensed.Negotiations.
What if they’d uncovered something else about Vale? Something they didn’t like? What if they didn’t want to celebrate the feast because there wasn’t anything good to expect from the future after all? What if they were trying to figure out how to tell him that he couldn’t have Vale ever?
He steeled himself and prepared to test the water with a question about the next day’s negotiations, but before he could, Father set aside his fork and met Jason’s gaze with a strange shadow in his eyes. “We should all eat dinner and then go to bed early. You’ll need to be well-rested and clear-headed in the morning, son.”
“But it’s only eight o’clock.”
Yes, it was late for dinner to have just begun, but too early to turn in for the night.
“Pass the butter,” Pater said, his brows furrowed tightly. He hadn’t even dressed up for the occasion. He wore a soft-looking, loose sweater in grey, one of his least-favorite colors. Father, for his part, had at least put on his suit coat. Jason felt like an idiot in his usual feast night attire of a suit and tie. “Jason? The butter?” Pater snapped.
“Right.” As he handed the red glass butter dish over, he frowned. Beneath the stale cigarette odor emanating from Pater, there was another scent, something strange and foreign. Sickness, maybe? It wasn’t Pater’s usual odor at all.
Pater focused on Jason for the first time all evening and asked softly, “How was your day in Vale’s garden?”
Father looked up from his hostile study of the leftover chicken and rice he was picking at. “Yes, did it all go well?”
Jason’s mind quickly supplied him with the image of Vale on his knees, shirtless, tattoos on display, nipples tight in the cold air through the open window, and spattered all over with Jason’s come.
“Yes. Everything went great.”
Pater smiled at him, but it was brittle. “Oh?”
“Mox and his crew finished the clearing out, and finished putting in the bulbs for spring. Vale seemed happy with it, too.” Not that Vale had said anything at all, actually. But he’d be happy with it when the blooms came in.
Pater nodded and went back to pushing his food around.
Jason took a bite of leftover shrimp and pasta and chewed thoughtfully, trying to suss out the source of the strange odor coming from Pater.
