[et_pb_section bb_built=”1″ admin_label=”section”][et_pb_row admin_label=”row”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_image admin_label=”Image” _builder_version=”3.0.51″ src=”https://drakeandelliott.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Fotolia_88281478_XS.jpg” show_in_lightbox=”on” url_new_window=”off” use_overlay=”off” sticky=”off” align=”center” always_center_on_mobile=”on” border_style=”solid” force_fullwidth=”off” animation=”off” /][/et_pb_column][/et_pb_row][et_pb_row admin_label=”Row”][et_pb_column type=”2_3″][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text” _builder_version=”3.0.51″ background_layout=”light” text_orientation=”left” border_style=”solid”]

Jude

“Oh man, mana,” Jude groaned from the kitchen. “Snow, you didn’t look in the bag, did you?”

“Your mom threatened my manhood when she dropped that off if I did, so no!” Snow glanced toward the kitchen where he’d been forbidden to enter, then grabbed the laser pen off the coffee table. Sergeant came running around the corner when he heard the click. Chuckling, Snow aimed the red light on the wall across from the sofa. It felt good to relax after his frustrating day trying to put together exercise equipment. Give him a scalpel over a wrench any day.

With his cat happily chasing the red dot, Jude banging pans in the kitchen, and the cheese and garlic scents filling the air, Snow felt warmth spreading through his chest. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this life but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

His cell vibrated on the table and he swiped it up when he saw Rowe’s face. “Did he like the present?” He asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Hasn’t seen it yet.” Honking horns and a loud engine let Snow know Rowe was driving—and probably stuck in traffic. “I’m stupidly nervous about it, too, so distract me from what saps we’re becoming. Did the room go over well?”

“Very. He showed me how much he loved it in a very graphic, delightful way.” Snow grinned and aimed the red dot on another wall, chuckling when Sergeant scampered across the room. “Don’t worry. You picked the perfect gift for the guy. I’m sure you’ll show up with rug burns again at work tomorrow.”

“Hey, that was only one time.” Rowe snorted. “After another.”

“Who has rug burns?” Jude asked as he came into the room, stretched out on the couch, and rested his head in Snow’s lap. “Rowe again?”

“I heard that,” Rowe yelled into the phone. “Do I need to go into how many marks I’ve seen on your bodies? Or share the incredibly weird sounds heard during various vacations? Oh, and speaking of vacation and rug burn, you never did explain how it got on your—”

“I have to go,” Snow interrupted, laughing. He hung up. “Could you hear him?”

“Our neighbors could hear him.” Jude smiled up at him. “I remember that night,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his head over Snow’s rapidly filling groin.

“How long until the food’s ready?” Snow asked, glad he’d only thrown on thin pajama pants. He ran his fingers through Jude’s thick hair.

“Just let this…” Jude turned and nuzzled his face into Snow. “Simmer a little while longer.”

Fire streaked through Snow’s body and he wrapped both hands around Jude’s head. “Simmer? When you’re turning up the heat to high?

Jude opened his mouth, lightly bit down. “I never said I played fair.”

“I love the way you play.”

Dark eyes locked with his as that connection he’d felt with this man more than simmered between them. As always.

The oven timer went off and Jude bounded off the couch. “Get naked and meet me back in bed in five.”

Minutes later when Jude walked into their bedroom, carrying a hot pan with a wonderfully familiar smell and one fork, Snow was pretty sure his heart was going to melt along with all that wonderful Greek macaroni and cheese. During one of their first nights together, they’d shared a pan of this with one fork. It would probably always be his favorite dish—and it was usually prepared by Jude’s mother. That reminded him.  “You cooked this. I heard. So what did your mom bring in that bag?”

Jude stripped off his jeans, settled into the bed, and put the hot casserole dish on a padded towel on his lap. He scooped out some and blew on it. When he held the fork out to Snow, he was shaking his head. “I asked her to make homemade pasta. Just look at it.”

Snow eyed the steaming food balanced on the fork and started laughing. Instead of macaroni noodles, each piece of pasta was shaped like a heart.

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