Read Online The Lonely Drop by Vanessa North - Free Book Online Page A

asleep. What a cliché. I can’t help but smile as I watch his chest rising and falling. He rolls to his belly and snores, and I just watch, running my hand in slow strokes down the length of his spine, admiring the curve of his ass and the firm, tan skin. Not ready to stop touching him, not ready to give him up.
    I promised him one night, and I won’t try to hold him longer. I want to— but I won’t.
    “Nick?” He calls into his pillow.
    “I’m here.” I lie down beside him, wrap my arm around his waist and pull him against me.
    “Mmm. That’s nice. Nap with me.”
    “Okay, Kev. Whatever you want.”
    “Want to wake up next to you.”
    “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “Good.”
    But you are, aren’t you?
    ****

Chapter Six
    We wake up around suppertime, when the lights come on and the house roars to life around us.
    “Hey,” he says softly, stroking a finger down my face. “No regrets?”
    I smile in spite of my fears for what this means for our friendship. “None.”
    “Cool.” He leans over and kisses me, just gently at first, then, with a little groan, deeper, rolling his weight onto me and thrusting his semi against my leg. When he draws back, we’re both a little breathless. “You’re gonna get me going again.” He smiles, biting his lip.
    “Mmm. That could be fun.” I stretch in his arms, enjoying the press of his body along mine. “But let’s eat supper first, I’m starving. Might as well take advantage of the power while we’ve got it.”
    “What would you usually do on a night off?” He asks as we pull on our clothes— he trades his suit for a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from his luggage— and head for the kitchen.
    “I usually work until after the happy hour rush, then hang out for a bit to make sure everything is good before I head home. But most nights I stay until close. Very weird to be home during the afternoon.”
    “You work every day, don’t you?” Something strange crosses his face. I’m not sure whether it’s revulsion or sadness.
    “It’s different when your job is your passion.” I shrug. “It’s not like going into an office every day to make money for someone else.”
    I pull out the Dutch oven and a couple of cutting boards. My pantry is unprepared for this storm, but I bet I can throw something together.
    “Do you like beets?” I ask, digging through the vegetable drawer. I look over my shoulder to catch him nodding. Okay, vegetarian borscht it is. I grab a head of cabbage and hand it to him. “Knives in the block on the counter. Cut it into half-inch wide strips.”
    While he starts slicing cabbage, I peel and chop the beets and a couple of carrots. I slice an onion and set it to browning on the stove.
    “Why do you work in the bar rather than the restaurant?” he asks, still slicing cabbage. “You love the cooking stuff, right?”
    “I hired a chef to run the restaurant kitchen. The Drop is my baby.” I smile, upend my vegetables into the Dutch oven on top of the onions, and reach for the potted herbs on the windowsill. I pick a few stems of dill and start chopping them. “I started the brewery and bar first, then expanded into the restaurant space when it became available. It was always part of the plan, but it happened a little sooner than expected.”
    “It sounds like a pretty sound operation?”
    “Yep. We’ve done pretty well for ourselves. You can put the cabbage in the pot now.” I grab a quart jar of vegetable stock from the fridge and pour it on top of the vegetables in the pot, admiring how the beets turn everything a delicate shade of red. Covering the pot to let it simmer, I grin at him. “It’ll be ready in about an hour. Any idea how to pass the time?”
    He grins back. “I can think of a thing or two.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    His grin turns into something almost like a leer before it falls away, and he looks serious, even sad, but as quickly as the grin disappeared, it’s back, and he takes my hand. “You promised me one