Page 3 of A Season Of Sin

Bobbing my head, I hum. “Yeah.”

Jace pulls a face. “Over the holidays?”

“I’m on standby,” I explain.

“For the club?”

“Yep. For the club. Like always.”

“How long you stayin’ this time?”

I wipe sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. “As long as they want me to. Probably ‘til after the new year.”

“Sweet. You should have dinner with us sometime. Gracie would love to finally meet ‘The Wolf.’” He air quotes, grinning. “I’ve told her about you.”

“Gracie’s your old lady?”

“Sure is.” He flashes me the simple gold band on his finger. “High school sweethearts. Goin’ on twelve years together. Married five.”

I rear back, impressed. “Damn… and no kids yet?”

“No. Maybe someday. We’ve got time.”

With a nod, we lapse into a short chat about anything and everything. It feels nice catching up. I don’t have many friends. Brothers, yes. But friends, not so much. Moving around as much as I do, Jace is the only man I’ve spent any time around outside of the club brothers.

Hell, I didn’t even know Gracie was his old lady’s name.

I knew he was married. We’d talked about it once, a few years back. But most of our interactions have been about fitness.

“I’m done with my workout for the day. You wanna grab lunch or coffee or somethin’?” he offers, hitching his thumb toward the sauna door.

Loving the chance to catch up more, I nod. “Coffee. All the damn coffee.”

Jace chuckles, deep and warm as he stands. He pushes the sauna door open and sweeps his hand toward it. “Let’s do it.”

Following him out, we change in the locker room. I can’t help but spare a few glances at the man. A black and gray backpiece spans the entire width of his backside. Damn. That must’ve taken hours. Peeking over his shoulder at me, he grins when he notices me checking it out.

“You got inked,” I comment, so he doesn’t think I’m checking out more than the tattoo. There’s locker room etiquette, and watchin’ another guy dress is usually code for other things. That’s not what this is.

Jace tugs a t-shirt over his head and turns around to talk to me as he drops his shorts to his ankles, and instead of a pair of boxers, there’s a bright blue jockstrap hugging his junk. I keep my eyes forward and away from anything considered indecent as he says something I don’t even fuckin’ hear because… he’s wearing a jockstrap, and it’s blue. I don’t know why that strikes me as odd, but it does.

I think about it the entire way out to my van, where I drop my duffle, and over to the coffee shop a few doors down from the gym.

I think Jace says something about his ink, but I can’t be sure.

I’m too focused elsewhere to pay attention to his friendly banter. I throw out a handful of grunts and hums along the way, but the jockstrap is seared into my brain. He’s gotten big, tattooed, and big. When I met him, he was still a kid. Sure, he still is, considering I’m damn near old enough to be his old man, but still… he’s grown up.

Once we enter the coffee shop, he nods for me to sit. I’m half-hard as I slide into the furthest booth. Somehow, Jace remembers my order when he returns with an iced caramel coffee, the biggest size, and a blueberry muffin. He sets a napkin to the side and slips across from me with his hot drink and a donut.

Needing to focus on something besides… whatever the fuck is happening to me, I inhale my iced coffee, which turns out to be cold brew, which is even better. I sigh with pleasure as the caffeine fills my belly, and Jace smirks.

“You’re an addict,” he teases, sipping his drink like a normal human.

“Sure am.” I grin, puffing up my chest like an idiot.

Smiling, Jace rolls his blue eyes.

“The cabin I’m stayin’ in doesn’t have electricity, much less coffee. I should pick up instant powder from the store today when I load up,” I explain.