Page 30 of Temptation On Ice

What the hell? Where is this proprietary feeling coming from? He’s not anything to me other than a nice dude I hang out with and consider a friend now. And maybe I find him attractive and want to kiss him. But why am I jealous? I don't have any claim on Tucker.

Tucker grunts in displeasure, lifting the man off and setting him down, which seems easy enough, as Tucker has to outweigh him by eighty pounds and has a few inches on him.

“Damnit, Callum, just sit at the bar. Stop climbing on me,” Tucker growls, pushing the man—Callum—toward the breakfast bar while looking at me with apologetic eyes. “Sebastian, this is Callum Jaynes. Callum, this is my friend, Sebastian Montenegro.”

The way he emphasizes friend is not lost on me, especially when he doesn't give a title to Callum. Did he enjoy that little display of territorial marking by Callum? Does he secretly want to be with the smaller man despite his aggravated tone and not giving in to the affection? I don't like this.

“Nice to meet you,” I grit out, fighting the anger in my tone. I don't like watching them together, but maybe I have no right to even think that way. Is this Tucker’s partner? Is he gay? Do I want him to be?

“The pleasure is all mine, or could be if either of you big strong beefcakes would take pity on a pretty little twink and bend me—”

Tucker lunges across the breakfast bar, slamming a hand over Callum’s mouth to stop the stream of words from finishing. “I swear to God, Callum, I will cut out your tongue and feed it to the dogs if you don't stop talking. Just be normal today. Sebastian’s not like us,” he says, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head in my direction. “Stop with the innuendo and performance. He doesn't want it any more than I do.”

Oh, thank God he doesn’t want this attention from Callum.

The knot in my stomach uncoils, and my muscles relax, knowing more definitively how he feels about the other man. I stand straighter as I look between Tucker and Callum with less of the insane jealousy that had overwhelmed me. Jesus, this back and forth is exhausting. I wish I knew why I even care at all.

“Boo, you whore. You’re no fun,” Callum says when he pulls away from Tucker’s hand, pouting. “If you’re going to bring the sexiest man candy over, I at least want to play with it.” He makes a clawing motion at me and gives me growl befitting a kitten that’s scarier than most hockey team enforcers.

My cheeks flame at his comment. Tucker closes his eyes tightly, clearly embarrassed for us both. I don't even know what to say. I’ve never had a flamboyantly gay guy hit on me. This is a surreal moment all around. I don't know what to do with it.

“Why are you here, Callum?” Tucker growls, planting his hands on the breakfast bar and leaning toward the slighter man, looking like an intimidating wall of mean-ass strength and terror. Even I would shrink back at that look.

Callum preens, smiling gleefully as he leans toward Tucker and boops his nose with a ringed finger that’s sporting neon blue nail polish.

“I love it when you get all growly with me, bear daddy. You know that doesn't have the effect you’re hoping for, it just makes me want you even more. I love a grumpy man who can throw me around and would put me under his arm in public.”

Tucker pushes off the bar with an exasperated huff. “Just get to the point. I know you have one. You wouldn't be up this early on a weekend and missing brunch otherwise.”

Callum throws his arms out to the sides, smacking me in the chest in the process, and gives us both a look like we should be so happy to see him.

“I’m here to take measurements of the barn for the new kennels we’re putting in. The renovation starts this week, silly!” he says, like Tucker forgot the details.

“There’s never a start date or a timeline that I can trust when you’re involved,” Tucker grumbles, walking over to an old-school wall calendar with a photo of a dog and pointing at the month. “See, there’s a circle around the entire month and a note that says CJI remodel at some point on it. You never gave me a specific date, so you can’t play this bullshit card with me now, you Kellogg’s flakey motherfucker.”

Callum laughs like Tucker just said the funniest thing to him. “God, you’re so hot when you get bossy and frustrated. I can tell you didn’t get laid last night, or you’d be much happier this morning.” He looks over at me with pursed lips and eyes me up and down again with more speculation this time.

Does he think I stayed over to sleep with Tucker? I mean, we technically fell asleep in the same bed, but we didn’t sleep together. Why would I sleep with a guy?

Because you already fantasized about him sucking you off, and you want to kiss him, so what’s the difference between that and sleeping with him?

Yeah, I’m not sure what to do with that new voice in my head.

“Go take your measurements. You know where the barn is and what needs to be done. Don't you dare make a mess out there before you even start on the project. I know how you are with your piles. I don't know why you’re in here harassing me if you have work to do,” Tucker says, arms crossed as he glares at Callum.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go. I just wanted to see you and get my fill of the hottest country boy this side of the Mississippi. One day, you’ll fulfill my fantasy and tear me apart, but until then, I’ll keep reminding you that you’re wanted.” He blows a kiss to Tucker before he turns toward me with a more serious look. “Being hot is not a free pass to this guy’s heart. Just look at me,” he says, gesturing at his face, which is objectively gorgeous, if more delicate than my preferences. “So if you’re trying to get in his bed on looks alone, that won’t work. You have to show him you care and you’re willing to stick around for the long haul, which is what he deserves. If that’s not your vibe, get the fuck out of here and don't waste his time, or I’ll kick your ass myself.”

My eyes are about to fall out of my face with how wide they’ve gone at his threat. I could totally take him, but how am I supposed to respond to that? I lift my hands in a sign of peace. “I’m just here for the beer and the quiet.”

“Callum, get out,” Tucker rumbles in exasperation.

“I have work to do, which is why I’m leaving. Not because you insisted.” Callum rises from his stool gracefully and does a little spin on his way to the back door, giving us both a smile and a finger-slapping wave as he walks through it. When the door closes, there’s a heavy, awkward silence left in the flamboyant man’s wake.

“I’m so sorry,” Tucker starts.

“That was interesting,” I say at the same time. He shakes his head, and I continue. “So, do all your friends greet you with,” I point at my face, “kisses and jumping into your arms?”

Tucker laughs awkwardly, his cheeks turning pink. “No. Callum just wishes he were my type and likes to remind me he’s available should I ever change my mind. But most of our friends in the community are pretty affectionate, so we hug a lot, and some of them do kiss hello, but not as enthusiastically as Callum.”