Page 49 of Edge

There was rock musicplaying through the house’s speaker system when Damian walked in.The aroma of chili and fennel wafted throughout and Damian grinnedas he hid the Easter eggs in the sideboard.

Jory had been busy makinghis spicy crab linguine—he said it was his own recipe but Damianknew full well it was one from a Jamie Oliver cookbook—and he’dnever had the heart to call out his boyfriend about it.

Whoever’s recipe it was,it was a damn good dish and one Damian enjoyed, always served witha crisp Sauvignon Blanc. His mouth watered thinking aboutit.

When he walked into thekitchen, Jory was dancing around the room putting the final touchesto his dish. His tight arse waggled and enticed and he’d filledout, no doubt due to his better eating habits since Damian had comeinto his life. Jory looked even more delicious than he had whenDamian had met him.

Some sixth sense madeJory turn and he beamed. “You’re home.” He turned to the windowsilland addressed the device sitting there. “Okay, Google, lower thevolume.” The music grew quieter and Jory came over and clasped hishands around Damian’s neck, bringing him down for a fierce anddirty kiss.

Damian loved kissing.Jory’s lips tasted of spice, smoke, sambuca, and chocolate. He wasa decadent treat ready to be devoured and Damian was all too ready.When they finally parted, Jory’s pupils were large and dark, andhis mouth swollen from the passion of their kisses.

“Wow, seemslike we both needed that.” He gave Damian another peck on the lipsand turned to the stove. “This is almost ready, babe. Do you wantto eat first then open the box, or shall we do the dirty deedfirst?”

The trepidation in hisvoice gave Damian the answer. “Let’s grab a drink—although I cantaste you’ve already been sampling from the new sambuca bottle—andthen let’s open the box together. I know you. You won’t relax untilyou’ve done it and I’d hate your delicious crab dish to go towaste.”

Jory’s eyes lit up and henodded eagerly. “I’ll get us a couple of drinks and turn the stovedown for a while. There’s nothing here that can’t wait.”

Damian went out into thelounge and settled on the couch. For the first time, he becameaware of the large box sitting on the dining room floor. It wasprettily decorated with wrapping paper reflecting grey bunnies andyellow daffodils on a bright green background.

Jory came into the roomand handed Damian a glass of white wine. He went over to the boxand dragged it over, then sat down beside him, placing his glass onthe side table.

“A little bitof Dutch courage,” he murmured. There was a tremor in his voicethat hadn’t been there before. “And I bought scissors because thestring looks pretty strong.”

Damian gave hisboyfriend’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Go on, open it. Don’tkeep us in suspense.”

Jory nodded and cut thestring holding the box together. He pulled it away and depositedthe wrapping paper in a pile on the floor. Then he took thescissors and slid them across the top of the box, breaking theSellotape seal.

“Someonewanted this to stay in one piece,” he commented. He laid thescissors down on the table and looked at Damian.

“Here goes.”Gingerly, he pulled the two top halves up and looked down into thebox. Damian leaned over too, curious to see what wasinside.

The contents were coveredby what looked like a red tablecloth, speckled with even morerabbits. Yellow ones this time.

“I’m sensing atheme here.” Damian chuckled. “His mum certainly loved her Easterbunnies.”

“There’s anenvelope here, down the side.” Jory pulled it out. “It’s addressedto me.”

“Of course itis,” Damian teased. “Who else would it be for?”

Jory slid the envelopeopen with his finger and pulled out a pretty patterned floral note.He held it up and began reading.

“DearJory

I hope youare well and getting over the shock of my dear Roger’s death as Iam trying to. I still can’t believe he’s gone and in such afashion. I knew he was unwell, having inherited the family cursefrom his father’s side. I always knew this awful disease wouldstrike sometime, but I’d hoped it would take him far later than itdid. My only regret is there is no body to bury. I hate to think ofhim out there alone in the ocean.

Anyway,enough about my grief. I am an old lady and will no doubt see manyothers die before it’s my time to do so.”

“She soundslike a cheerful lady,” Damian murmured. “I feel sorry for her,though, losing her only son.”

Jory shushed him andcontinued.

“I foundthese items in his old bedroom, hidden in the back of his childhoodcupboard. As they had your name on them all and seemed to bepersonal, I had to return them.”

Jory’s gaze shot toDamian’s and he knew they were having the same thought.

“Do youthink…” Jory said as Damian nodded.

“What elsecould it be?” he said excitedly. He wanted to pull away the redcloth covering the contents, but he knew it was something Joryneeded to do.