Page 13 of Scorched

That one drew Fabrice into the conversation. “Really? I would think he’d love being the center of attention.”

“Oh, he does, but birthdays are different. Those mean he’s getting older. He doesn’t love that.”

At Foster’s words, Jay joined the conversation. “How old will Atticus be this year?”

Foster never stopped scribbling in his notebook as he responded. “Thirty-seven.”

“I never would’ve guessed that. He stays in too good of shape, I guess.”

Fabrice barely heard Tidy’s admission. Do the math. That was what Kirkland had said. He had been with Atticus for thirty-three years, since Atty was three. Kirkland would be fifty in a few months. A horrible picture formed in his mind. Just barely clicking pieces to an image Fabrice didn’t want to see. A glimpse into a past he prayed wasn’t true. Why would an adult man hire a fifteen-year-old kid to be a full-time live-in nanny? That was crazy. What did a teenager know about taking care of a three-year-old boy twenty-four-seven? There were very few reasons for that arrangement and none of them were good.

Kirkland squeezed his shoulders. “Are you okay with doing all that cooking for the party?”

Fabrice hadn’t heard a word anyone said. “Of course.” Fuck, he had no clue what he had agreed to do. But if it involved using his kitchen, he was up for the challenge. He reached up and put his hand over Kirkland’s. He was so incredibly sexy. Fabrice imagined he had been devastatingly gorgeous as a younger man. No wonder he played the old man. He didn’t want to be seen.

Kirkland waited until everyone cleared the kitchen before he kissed Fabrice’s nape. The moment he had walked into the room and saw Fabrice’s welcoming smile, Kirkland had been counting the seconds until they were alone.

“Good morning.” Fabrice turned. There was something behind his eyes. Kirkland fought the urge to shut down and run.

“You don’t look happy to have me here.” Communication. That was where he needed to start.

Fabrice’s eyes softened. “Of course I’m thrilled to have you in my company. I just got lost in my head over the amount of work this party will be.”

Kirkland nodded. He could see that. They were expecting quite a bit from him for a midday party that would last well into the night. “Don’t stress. Not only do you have me for extra hands, but as Foster said, he’s bringing in extra help from California. You won’t be handling this alone.”

“What day are we doing this again?”

Kirkland got it. Foster had fed him a lot of information at once. “Not this Saturday, but next.”

Fabrice nodded along. “We’ve got this. How did you sleep last night?”

He hated to be honest, but truth was all he wanted between them. “Not well.”

The concerned expression that overcame Fabrice’s face warmed his chest. “Why not? Is everything all right?”

How was he supposed to resist this beautiful man? Kirkland chuckled. “Everything is perfect. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Fabrice visibly melted. “Oh. Same. I mean, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not that I couldn’t stop thinking of myself. That would be crazy, and I’m not. Crazy, that is.”

The nervous chatter was too unlike Fabrice. Kirkland’s senses were on full alert. “Okay. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ve never made you nervous before.”

Fabrice’s face fell. He looked upset. “Foster was talking about Atticus’ birthday and I did the math.”

“Oh.” Everything inside Kirkland jumped behind the wall he had built to protect himself. He cleared his throat.

Fabrice’s gaze moved over Kirkland’s face. His expression was filled with pity. Kirkland hated that more than rejection.

He cleared his throat again. “I need to get started on that list Foster gave me. You likely need to prepare for lunch.”

Fabrice’s gaze never stopped inspecting him.

Kirkland couldn’t take it. “I’ll see you later.” He was in such a rush to get away, Kirkland forgot he held Fabrice’s hand.

Fabrice didn’t release him. “Are you really about to abandon me without as much as a kiss?”

Everything inside Kirkland ached. He couldn’t even look at Fabrice. “You’re in your kitchen with your staff. I don’t wish to make you look unprofessional.” Shit. His butler persona was back. Kirkland’s chest hurt.

Fabrice lured him back. “You’re right. This is my kitchen. I’m the boss and make the rules.”