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“Hey, Dad.” Baz lifted the six-pack in his right hand in a salute and shut the door behind him. “Thought I’d drop by for a few drinks and a movie. I know we didn’t have anything planned, but Mom bailed on pizza night, Isa is on a case, and Lily has been drafted to babysit Alek’s nephews and niece. I figured since it’s your night off, you’d be up for—” He froze, his eyes darting around the room. “Did you—did you clean in here?”
Tallak grimaced. He loved his kid, he truly did, but right now he wanted to throw him out the window. He couldn’t be here. Not now.
“Yeah, so what?” he answered Baz’s question, trying for gruff nonchalance. “It was overdue.”
Not that his place had been a pigsty, but he knew what Hazel’s house looked like, knew the level of cleanliness she preferred. It had taken him all day to get his apartment up to par.
“Right.” Baz’s brows drew together as he surveyed the room while walking over to the fridge.
Tallak peered at the blazing horizon visible through his window. “Listen, kid—”
“You scrubbed the fridge?” Baz looked up from behind the open door after depositing the beer in it.
“Look, as much as I enjoy our get-togethers, tonight’s not a good time.” He cringed having to say that. A part of him hurt at the fact that he needed to usher his son out the door instead of making up for twenty-six lost years between them. Since he’d gotten back from Faerie, he hadn’t once turned Basil away when the boy wanted to hang out. As it should be.
“You’ve got plans?” Baz eyed the floor. “Don’t tell me it’s steam-cleaning the carpet.”
“No, smart-ass,” he shot back with a smirk, careful not to show his impatience. “I’m hosting bingo night, all right? I’ll give you a rain check. Now get out of here before the old ladies get here and start cooing over you.”
Baz stared at him for a moment, his brown eyes narrowing…until they widened. “I know what’s up.”
Tallak’s heart caught in its rhythm, his skin icing over.
A grin cracked Basil’s face. “You have a date.”
More like mutually agreed upon itch-scratching, but why ruin the boy’s impression of him? Tallak remained frozen in place, waiting for the other shoe to drop. If Rhun knew of the blistering attraction between Hazel and him, would Baz have noticed as well? And what if he had? He inwardly flinched at the thought. This mess would get a whole lot messier the more people knew about it…especially people with personal stakes in any sort of outcome.
“Well,” Baz said with a wink, “whoever you managed to snatch up, I think it’s about damn time, and that’s all I’m going to say about that because I’d really rather not dwell on any details of my dad’s love life, and I’m just going to see myself out now, thankyouverymuch.”
Tallak hid the sigh of relief and instead opted for a sage nod. “Wise choice, kiddo.”
He walked behind Basil as the boy made his way to the door and barely kept himself from shoving Baz out. His fingers did twitch, though, so he checked the time again.
7:14 p.m.
Baz needed to be long gone by the time Hazel got here, lest she run into him on the way to Tallak’s place. If Basil hadn’t figured it out yet, he sure would if he saw where Hazel was going.
He forced himself not to slam the door behind his son, then hung his head for a moment with his palm still resting on the door. Frowning, he shifted his head toward his shoulder and sniffed. Maybe he should have showered after cleaning.
7:17 p.m.
If he hurried, he could hop under the shower again. On the other hand, his back-to-nature state of hygiene when they’d been camping out in Faerie sure hadn’t been a deterrent to Hazel’s lust… For a moment, he considered it. Ah, fuck it. He pulled the T-shirt off over his head, got out of the rest of his clothes, and crammed it all into the closet on top of the other soiled laundry.
Better to start off fresh…he’d be covered in sweat again soon enough with Hazel in his bed.
* * *
Hazel raised her hand, ready to knock on the plain gray door to Tallak’s apartment, and…didn’t.
What the hell am I doing here?
The last slivers of purple from the setting sun behind her back felt like a brand, a silent condemnation. The industrial-style lamps on the hallway ceiling had already flickered on, casting the walls—and that darned door—in cold, unvarnished light. Stark. Real.
Far too real.
She’d never been here before, never had a reason to seek out his place of living, what with him hanging around the Murray mansion more often than not. The way they’d snarled at each other sure hand’t made her want to visit him. He’d only stayed at the Murrays’ the first night after coming back from Faerie; the next day, he’d gone off and found an apartment to rent within walking distance from the mansion, so as to be near Basil but still in his own place.
She clenched her raised fist tighter, her pulse a jackhammer beat in her head. If she left now, she could still go back to the status quo, could pretend nothing had changed, retreat within the walls that had kept her safe all these years.
