asked. “Your eyes are kind of bright.”
Jackson looked helplessly between Cillian and Ennis. This wasn’t really how he’d planned it in his head. He grimaced. “Guys. Odd question time.”
“Shoot,” Cillian said.
“Are they glowing? Give it to me straight. I trust you two.”
Ennis arched a brow. “Are you sure? I’m a journalist, y’know.”
Jackson scowled. “If you’re looking for him”—he gestured to Cillian—“I know you know about weird shit.”
Cillian stood straighter, affronted. “Excuse you?”
Jackson waved him off. “Never mind. Are my eyes freaking glowing?”
Ennis nodded. “And turning silver.”
“Dammit,” Jackson bit out. With Vegas breaking his seal, somehow Jackson’s power was siphoning off the energy. He gave each of them a pained look. “This is really not the way I wanted reuniting you guys to go, but… things are cool between you, right?”
“Yeah?” Ennis said, glancing to Cillian. “Right?”
Jackson nodded to Cillian. “He’s not a stalker, right?”
“ No !” Cillian snapped, seeming to take offense on Ennis’s behalf.
In Jackson’s arms, Jeshebet squealed and reached for Ennis. She wiggled against Jackson, trying to get out. If anything, Jeshebet had some strong opinions about a lot of things. Vegas had said at the start of this month-long cock-up that it wasn’t that babies can’t talk, just adults don’t speak their language. Jackson had begun to pick up Jeshebet’s lingo.
“Can you take the baby for a bit?” he asked Ennis. “She likes you, and I need to head to the back to help out Vegas.”
“Sure?” Ennis said, uncertain, as he reached out for her.
Jackson settled her into Ennis’s arms, and she cackled and kicked her feet.
“Who knew you’d be good with kids,” Cillian said softly.
Jackson nodded to the empty seat at the counter. “Cillian will take care of you. Right? You guys can… um… talk.” He hated how awkward it came out.
“Of course,” Cillian said with a bright smile. Jackson would forever call it the Tweety Bird Smile for how he swore birds were going to start chirping around his head.
“Thanks,” Jackson said as he made his quick escape. He knew it was going to become extremely awkward for Ennis, a guy saddled with baby duty and finding out his boyfriend/whatever had moved on to the hottest demon chef in town. Well. There was only one chef in town, regardless of if he was a demon or not.
Jackson slipped into the kitchen, the door almost swatting him in the rear as he nearly doubled over from the lustful heat filling the kitchen. His lashes fluttered as he clutched the doorjamb when Vegas’s raw sexual energy punched him in the gut.
But Vegas didn’t pay him any mind. He continued his dance of manning the grill and deep fryer, and plating cakes and pies. The kitchen reeked of greasy burgers and aroused man. And Vegas was at the epicenter of it all.
Jackson struggled for coherent thought as he checked the back of his own hand. He gritted his teeth at the swirling tattoo drawing itself over his skin. He never suspected Vegas breaking his seal would assault his own. Jackson felt coherent, just rock hard and ready to fuck a tree if he had to. His seal hadn’t broken, but Vegas was well on his way to smashing it with a sledgehammer.
“Jesus fucking Christ, dude,” Jackson said, his voice a ragged gasp. “You need to stop. You’re going to reduce this restaurant into another Sodom and Gomorrah if your energy gets out of the kitchen.”
“Ah,” Vegas said with a smile as he whisked a bowl of vinaigrette. “Those were the best days.”
Jackson scowled. “Well, you know how that goes. History is always written by the winners.” He gulped in a large, stifling gasp of air. “God. Shit. You’re making me crazy right now.”
Vegas didn’t answer immediately as he dressed the salad, then tossed it in the large metal bowl. “Just breathe, Jackie. You can hold it in.” He winked at him. “The
Jackson looked helplessly between Cillian and Ennis. This wasn’t really how he’d planned it in his head. He grimaced. “Guys. Odd question time.”
“Shoot,” Cillian said.
“Are they glowing? Give it to me straight. I trust you two.”
Ennis arched a brow. “Are you sure? I’m a journalist, y’know.”
Jackson scowled. “If you’re looking for him”—he gestured to Cillian—“I know you know about weird shit.”
Cillian stood straighter, affronted. “Excuse you?”
Jackson waved him off. “Never mind. Are my eyes freaking glowing?”
Ennis nodded. “And turning silver.”
“Dammit,” Jackson bit out. With Vegas breaking his seal, somehow Jackson’s power was siphoning off the energy. He gave each of them a pained look. “This is really not the way I wanted reuniting you guys to go, but… things are cool between you, right?”
“Yeah?” Ennis said, glancing to Cillian. “Right?”
Jackson nodded to Cillian. “He’s not a stalker, right?”
“ No !” Cillian snapped, seeming to take offense on Ennis’s behalf.
In Jackson’s arms, Jeshebet squealed and reached for Ennis. She wiggled against Jackson, trying to get out. If anything, Jeshebet had some strong opinions about a lot of things. Vegas had said at the start of this month-long cock-up that it wasn’t that babies can’t talk, just adults don’t speak their language. Jackson had begun to pick up Jeshebet’s lingo.
“Can you take the baby for a bit?” he asked Ennis. “She likes you, and I need to head to the back to help out Vegas.”
“Sure?” Ennis said, uncertain, as he reached out for her.
Jackson settled her into Ennis’s arms, and she cackled and kicked her feet.
“Who knew you’d be good with kids,” Cillian said softly.
Jackson nodded to the empty seat at the counter. “Cillian will take care of you. Right? You guys can… um… talk.” He hated how awkward it came out.
“Of course,” Cillian said with a bright smile. Jackson would forever call it the Tweety Bird Smile for how he swore birds were going to start chirping around his head.
“Thanks,” Jackson said as he made his quick escape. He knew it was going to become extremely awkward for Ennis, a guy saddled with baby duty and finding out his boyfriend/whatever had moved on to the hottest demon chef in town. Well. There was only one chef in town, regardless of if he was a demon or not.
Jackson slipped into the kitchen, the door almost swatting him in the rear as he nearly doubled over from the lustful heat filling the kitchen. His lashes fluttered as he clutched the doorjamb when Vegas’s raw sexual energy punched him in the gut.
But Vegas didn’t pay him any mind. He continued his dance of manning the grill and deep fryer, and plating cakes and pies. The kitchen reeked of greasy burgers and aroused man. And Vegas was at the epicenter of it all.
Jackson struggled for coherent thought as he checked the back of his own hand. He gritted his teeth at the swirling tattoo drawing itself over his skin. He never suspected Vegas breaking his seal would assault his own. Jackson felt coherent, just rock hard and ready to fuck a tree if he had to. His seal hadn’t broken, but Vegas was well on his way to smashing it with a sledgehammer.
“Jesus fucking Christ, dude,” Jackson said, his voice a ragged gasp. “You need to stop. You’re going to reduce this restaurant into another Sodom and Gomorrah if your energy gets out of the kitchen.”
“Ah,” Vegas said with a smile as he whisked a bowl of vinaigrette. “Those were the best days.”
Jackson scowled. “Well, you know how that goes. History is always written by the winners.” He gulped in a large, stifling gasp of air. “God. Shit. You’re making me crazy right now.”
Vegas didn’t answer immediately as he dressed the salad, then tossed it in the large metal bowl. “Just breathe, Jackie. You can hold it in.” He winked at him. “The
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