Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 11

"So, basically, all we have to do is hang out at this guy's house while he throws a party. Piece of cake." Julian grins.

"Julian, do not take this lightly," Dane snaps. "We don't know what this thief might be capable of."

We're sitting around the little dining table in the cottage, eating pizza and drinking beer while we discuss the plans for the 'stakeout.'

"Relax, Dane," Julian says, picking a stray olive off his slice of pizza. "Noah will be there to keep me in line. I'm sure we won't have any fun." He winks at me and rolls his bright, amethyst eyes.

"I'm serious, Julian." Dane's voice is close to a growl, and I feel the hairs standing up on my arms. If he directed that tone at me, I'd be cowering, but Julian seems oblivious. "Don't push me on this, or I'll scrap the whole operation."

With another eye-roll, Julian gathers our plates and carries them to the kitchen. When he comes back, he stands behind Dane's chair, loops his arms around his neck, and kisses the side of his face. "Alright, lover of mine," he says, smiling, "I'll follow orders this time—I promise."

Dane twists, grabs the back of Julian's neck and pulls him down into a thorough, passionate, and clearly possessive kiss, leaving me caught in a state of awkward fascination. "You'd better," Dane says, finally letting him go.

Julian straightens, cheeks flushed, spits out a piece of olive and pretends to retch.

"Ugh, so gross. You animal."

He wipes his mouth on Dane's sleeve and then resumes clearing the table. Dane watches him with a look that makes me think I'd better not stick around too long, because my welcome is already wearing thin.

"Why is this guy—this Mr. Barker—hosting a gala at his house if he's worried the thief will steal his painting?" I ask, trying to redirect Dane's attention to the case. "Why not just cancel the event?"

When he turns to me, I see his amber eyes are lit like rings of fire, the centers black and wide. I'm startled as I'm reminded of how Thorne's eyes had looked that morning—though Thorne's are a much darker reddish-brown.

I'm also more convinced than ever that it's just about time for me to leave. If Julian pushes one more button, Dane is liable to tear his clothes off with his teeth and have at him whether I'm here or not.

I'd rather I was not.

Dane clears his throat, blinks, and takes a drink of beer.

"I don't know. It's a 'society,' thing, I guess. The guy's filthy rich, and this 'gala,' or whatever the fuck, is..." his eyes stray to Julian again and track him as he returns to his seat, "...is, uh...is some kind of status statement." He clears his throat again and adjusts himself in his seat. "He's also a stubborn son of a bitch, and thinks that changing his plans would be like letting the thief win. I guess it's not in his nature to back down."

"Why is he so sure the thief will target him?" I ask. "And why specifically during this 'gala' thing?"

"Because of this," Julian says, pulling a piece of paper from a small envelope that had been sitting on the table.

He slides it over to me and I pick it up. It's an invitation to the gala dinner, printed on very fine card stock and embossed with gold leaf.

"Thaddeus Barker?" I say, reading the host's name.

"I know," Julian scoffs. "Who names their kid 'Thaddeus,' these days? No wonder he's a pretentious prick."

Below that and a description of the event, there's a request to RSVP, though it's spelled out Répondez s'il vous plaît, and below that is a little stamp in the shape of a cat's paw made with red ink.