Daring Duke (Love Letters Book 4) Page 7

  Duke skated over to him and halted between his spread legs. Folded his arms. “Big boss man like you, taken down by a couple of kids.”

  The twins pulled their weight off his arms, and Duke reached down to help him up. Their hands and eyes crashed, a silent agreement to be friends again.

  Duke tightened his grip and helped Rohan to his feet.

  “You’re welcome,” Duke said. He couldn’t leave the cheek behind, could he?

  Rohan loved it more than he cared to admit. “You really wanted me to fall.”

  Duke skated around him, voice trailing lightly behind him. “Still do.”

  Two hours flew by, and before he knew it, Rohan had voluntarily roped himself into the rest of the day’s activities: dog walking, listening to an animated reading by Ash at Silver Pines, and playing hide-and-seek in the manor.

  Jones and Janine giggled under the bed in one of the unused rooms. Rohan went to uncover them, but Duke pulled him back into the hall and whispered in his ear, “Let them think they’ve stumped us.” With enthusiasm, he called aloud, “Where are they hiding, Ro?”

  Rohan leaned against the wall next to Duke between two framed paintings of historical Greenville mayors. His arm pressed against his cousin’s, warmth soaking into him.

  “They are full of energy,” Rohan said. “Just like you.”

  “Much better behaved.”

  He laughed softly, and Duke’s lips quirked at the sides, too. Duke kept his gaze toward the opposite wall. His lashes were stunningly long in profile. “How long have you been looking after the kids?”

  “Few months.”

  “And you’re okay with it?”

  Duke shrugged, his arm shifting against Rohan’s. “I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t.”

  “This Kyle isn’t abusing your generosity, is he?”

  “Jesus, Rohan, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you have something against Kyle. You haven’t even met him.”

  “Maybe I should, if he’s so important to you?” How important is he?

  Duke kept his voice low, blunt. “If you want to know whether we are fucking, ask.”

  The conversation was crossing a line, but Rohan couldn’t stop from asking. “Are you fucking?”

  Duke’s gaze dropped briefly to Rohan’s lips. “No. Do you fuck your beard?”

  “I have.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Things would be so much easier if I did.”

  Duke looked away, down the hall. Called out to the kids again. “Maybe they are under my bed?”

  Giggles sounded from the spare room.

  Duke pushed off the wall. “Kyle isn’t abusing me, but I wish he would. It’s okay though, I have a way to get his money back to him.”

  Of course Duke wouldn’t take their money. He didn’t need it. But he cared enough to give Kyle his pride. “How do you get it back to them?”

  “I have my ways.” Duke strode into the spare room and pretended to be shocked when he uncovered the twins.

  They jumped up and down, demanding more. “Nope, need to pack up and run errands. And make dinner for your mommy and uncle Kyle. It’s late.”

  Rohan watched from the door. “I want to come with you.”

  The twins cheered.

  “You’re not sick of us already?” Duke asked.

  A fraction of uncertainty touched his voice, like he couldn’t be sure how much Rohan meant it. Like he wasn’t used to anyone willingly spending so much time with him.

  Guilt twisted Rohan’s gut. He’d read Duke wrong for so long. He’d thought he wanted distance between them. Thought he hadn’t cared that Rohan traveled and barely saw him.

  “I’m not sick of you.”

  Duke’s expression wavered. He quickly squared it away. “Whatever. You drive, then.”

  They packed the kids into the Lexus and Duke barely glanced up from his phone as he gave Rohan directions. “Post office first, then the grocery store on Fifth.”

  “You could have your staff do all this.”

  “I want to do this.”

  “Really? Shopping?” Rohan asked.

  “A taste of normal family life.”

  Rohan peered at Duke’s phone and almost brought his car to a crashing halt. He barely kept his voice in check. “QuickLine? You’re using QuickLine?”

  Duke smiled smugly. “It’s so much better than SmallQ.”

  Like hell it was. SmallQ was simpler to use—and cost less. Simply plug in all the activities and the app spat out the best order to do them in, taking into account traffic and the stores’ busiest hours. SmallQ gave an accurate measure—down to the minute—how long it would take to do X, Y, and Z. If a task wasn’t marked a priority, it scheduled it into the week where it fit best.

  SmallQ minimized waiting times. Maximized free time.

  QuickLine was a cheap copy, crammed with useless extras.

  Rohan glared at Duke. “Get that off your phone. Now.”

  “Don’t take it personally, Ro. I prefer QuickLine.”

  “Do you know how much of my life I’ve invested into SmallQ? I’m taking it personally.”

  Duke continued to use the QuickLine app, smile fading. “SmallQ is your priority. Not mine.”

  “Are you kidding me? What money do you think you are living off? SmallQ profit, that’s what. Christ. If the tabloids discover that the son of the SmallQ founder doesn’t use SmallQ . . .”

  Rohan steered the car into a park outside the post office. The kids whined in the back seat about being hungry, and Duke offered them Tic Tacs.

  Frustration warred with something much worse, something sweet and tender.

  “Why?” Rohan asked calmly.

  Duke sighed. “Because I’m a little shit.”

  Rohan caught the jutting of Duke’s throat. Two weeks ago, that might have been Rohan’s explanation as well.

  Now, however, he didn’t believe it for a minute.

  Without another word, they used QuickLine to complete Duke’s tasks. Rohan saw exactly where Duke put the money Kyle gave him. He stocked the twins’ fridge, finished the laundry. It didn’t take him long to figure out Duke bought the kids replacement gloves and scarves when they lost theirs. And events. Duke gifted the kids with culture. Visited museums and attended kids’ theatre productions.

  They worked quietly in Kyle’s kitchen and whipped up a dinner of fried chicken, mashed potato, and beans. The kids sat on a threadbare couch watching Netflix on Duke’s laptop.

  Kyle called and apologized, but things were taking longer at the hospital and they wouldn’t be back until after the kids had eaten.

  Duke used a tone Rohan rarely heard from him: calm and serious. Told Kyle he had it all under control. Not to worry.

  Rohan set the rickety table, and Duke planted the hot meal in the middle. Their gazes snagged, and they stared at each other from opposite sides of the table. “Thanks for helping,” Duke said.

  “You’re good with kids.”

  “Because I know how to act like one?” Duke said with a tight laugh.

  Rohan waited until the laugh died and their gazes hooked more deeply. “You’re playful when you need to be. Firm when the kids need you to be. You’d make a good dad.”

  Duke dropped his gaze to the floor.

  The sounds of cartoons sounded loud in the silence between them. “Maybe one day I’ll grow up enough to have a family of my own. Husband, kids. The whole nine yards.” Duke’s eyes pinched toward the steaming mashed potatoes. “Can SmallQ offer that?”

  Rohan stilled.

  Duke rocked back on his heels as if wishing he hadn’t asked. He tossed out a lazy lie. “Can I plug in what I want and navigate the quickest route to a happily ever after?”

  Duke hadn’t meant that, though. The question had been an attack on Rohan’s life choices.

  A hit at Rohan that continued to ache when they’d finished eating dinner until Kyle arrived.

  Duke almost tipped the table when he lunged to hug his friend.
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br />   The twins threw themselves just as dramatically toward Kyle.

  Rohan noted Duke’s lingering hug and pressed the table so hard it jerked again. His plate slid into his lap and he jumped up with a yelp.

  He scooped mashed potato from his thigh and wiped it onto the plate. Duke snickered, an arm still casually loped around Kyle’s neck.

  Kyle, despite looking exhausted, was clearly attractive. Two kids suctioned onto each leg made him even more appealing, Rohan was sure.

  “How was your day?” Duke asked, arm still not budging.

  Rohan focused his mounting restlessness on clearing and washing the dishes.

  Duke dropped his arm from Kyle and rubbed his shoulders while Kyle listened to the twins’ stories.

  Rohan scrubbed the potato-smeared table, and Duke caught his eye over Kyle’s shoulder.

  A naughty twitch of his lips had Rohan squeezing the cloth.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Kyle?”

  Kyle let out a timely yawn. “You’ve done so much already.”

  “I’d be happy to do more for you.”

  “One of these days, I promise to return the favor.”

  Duke smirked. “I wouldn’t turn you down. Go take a shower, Ro and I will get the twins into bed.”

  “Shower. God. Yes.”

  As soon as Kyle was gone and the twins had run off to jump into their pajamas, Rohan dumped the cloth in the sink and fixed Duke with a hard stare. “What’s your game?”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Duke asked with feigned innocence.

  “You said you weren’t fucking him.”

  Duke barely held back a sly grin as he waltzed up to Rohan. “I’m not.” He brushed his thumb on the inside of Rohan’s thigh. “Yet.” Rohan barely held back a hiss. Duke lifted his fingers, smudged with potato. “You missed a spot.”

  “Don’t mess with Kyle.”

  “Why? Would it bother you?”

  It shouldn’t. “He’s caring for a sick sister and her kids. He’s in a vulnerable position and I don’t think you should fool around with his heart unless you’re serious about him.”

  Sympathy and understanding flickered in Duke’s gaze, but he squared his shoulders and backed toward the hall. “Who said I wasn’t serious about him?”

  Rohan narrowed his eyes. “Careful, Duke, make a wrong move and someone could get hurt.”

  “Right back at you,” Duke said softly, as if Rohan weren’t meant to hear it. He had though, and once more he was hit with an ache.

  He was doing the right thing with SmallQ. He was.

  Once the kids were in bed, Rohan drove them home. They lingered in the foyer, absently tweaking decorations on the Christmas tree.

  Duke flicked a silver bell and it tinkled.

  “Your staff,” Rohan said.

  Duke was baffled. “My staff?”

  “You hired well. They guys I met were charming. They think highly of you.”

  “Um . . . .”

  It was adorable how unsure Duke was at accepting praise. He flicked the bell again.

  Rohan unwrapped a candy cane he’d pinched off the tree. “Did you ever think about hiring Casey?”

  Duke stared at him blankly and gave him a deservedly sarcastic reply. “No, that never crossed my mind.”

  Rohan tapped Duke on the nose with his candy cane.

  Duke swiped it off him and sucked it into his mouth. “Casey loves interacting with people. Customers of all walks of life. That’s why she wants to work at Patricia’s Beans.”

  “She didn’t get the job.”

  “What?” Duke said incredulously.

  Rohan pinched the candy out of Duke’s gaping mouth and pressed it to his lips. “Pissed me off too.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “Hits a sore spot, I guess.”

  “I am never going to Patricia’s again.”

  Rohan admired his passion. “It has less to do with Casey than it does with our family.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re lazy. Incompetent, but lucky.”

  “What?”

  “We’re only rich because of Mom’s dad.”

  “Not true. You earn your millions.”

  “Now, yes. But not while I was growing up. People don’t think we’ve earned it. Even now, I only am where I am because of your dad.”

  “That’s not true. You work just as hard. When you’re running the company, everyone will see that.”

  Exactly what Rohan hoped. Validation for his family. Especially for his parents, who had put everything into raising them. “See, I am doing the right thing with SmallQ,” he said, less to convince Duke than to convince himself. Something he was doing more of recently. “I want my parents and sister to get the respect they deserve, Duke.”

  Duke sighed. “I get it. You love your family.” He brusquely passed Rohan. “I gotta . . . . I’m tired.”

  “Duke—” Rohan tried to call him back, but he was already out the door.

  Rohan stared at the glittering lights on the Christmas tree.

  He was doing the right thing with Bianca and SmallQ.

  He really was.

  He had to be.

  After a ceaseless work day, Rohan drove back to the manor. The mouthwatering smell of fried prawns greeted him, but it wasn’t the delicious scent that quickened his step to the kitchen.

  Duke was home.

  Rohan paused at the entrance to the dining room/kitchen and leaned against the doorframe.

  Duke jiggled the sizzling pan and twisted to plate the prawns. He glanced at the set table with the bowl of salad and steaming bread, and his gaze jerked to Rohan.

  He stilled with the pan, hovering it over two plates.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

  Cilantro prawns was one of the quick yet impressive meals he’d taught Duke years ago.

  “Damn, you’re home. I was hoping to eat these all myself.”

  The two plates before him made a mockery of his lie.

  “By all means, I’ll leave you to your prawns.”

  “Shut up. Coat off. Sit down.”

  Rohan obliged. When he was sitting, Duke set his plate in front of him, and seated himself opposite. He lifted a questioning eyebrow.

  “It’s my way of saying thanks, okay? For all your help yesterday.”

  Rohan picked up a prawn. “These look perfect.”

  “They are.”

  “I enjoyed myself. With you and the kids yesterday.”

  Duke shifted, his lips lifting with a tentative smile as he bowed his head. “I liked you with me, too. Especially the part where you did the dishes.”

  Rohan laughed and eyed the mess in the kitchen.

  “Yep,” Duke said, following his gaze and winking at him. “All yours.”

  For the remainder of the week, when Rohan returned home from work, he found Duke at home. They ate together and hung out after, binge watching Netflix.

  It felt like they were reestablishing their easy banter. The friendship they used to have, perhaps.

  On Friday, Rohan came home to a note that Duke was picking up Casey and would be back in time for dinner with him and Bianca.

  Rohan had let the staff leave early, determined, like the previous nights, to make dinner without help. Besides, it kept his mind off Bianca’s imminent arrival.

  He’d sent a driver to pick her up from the airport. She’d arrive any minute now.

  He called James while preparing the soup. “Remind me again. Why can’t I be gay and run SmallQ?”

  He knew all the reasons, of course, but he needed someone else to confirm them. Needed to hear the warning in their voice.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” James said.

  Rohan could always count on his friend to be blunt.

  “Or do. Whatever you want, Rohan. Just make sure you’re willing to commit.”

  “I’ve worked my whole life for this opportunity. I’ve lost friends in my quest
to prove myself goal-oriented. Living for the job.”

  “Was it worth it? Losing those friends?”

  He’d helped college friends land jobs at SmallQ but had been made to fire them during cutbacks. Also to test his loyalties.

  He’d hated it.

  What he hadn’t told anyone, however, was that he’d landed them other jobs first and made sure they were headhunted for better positions.

  Positions he knew for a fact they’d taken.

  He was glad for that, even if they had stopped talking to him.

  He knew he appeared ruthless, like he was all head and no heart. Who would want to be around a person like that?

  “Hey, didn’t lose all of them, right?”

  James barked out a laugh. “Not yet.”

  “How are you, anyway? Still with what’s-his-face?”

  “You’re unbelievable. The sincerity is dripping off you.”

  Rohan cupped the back of his neck, sighed. “Bad timing, but I mean it.”

  “I know you do. I have a wonderful bullshit radar. Anton didn’t work out.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be. You need to trust your gut.”

  Rohan sighed. “My gut is all too close to my cock, and my cock isn’t particularly trustworthy at the moment.”

  Intrigue filled James’s voice. “Sounds like you’ve met someone who might be special.”

  “He’s special, all right.”

  Special, and totally off-limits. Even if he could run SmallQ and fall in love with a man, he’d never get away with falling for his cousin.

  God, why was he even contemplating this?

  He’d put the brakes on this nonsense immediately.

  Of course he loved his cousin—he always had. But it was the platonic kind.

  The kind that made his heart swell every time he saw Duke with his sister or babysitting kids.

  The kind reserved for family.

  The kind that made his cock ache every time that mouth twitched with a quip.

  Duke drove an excited Casey to the Greenville manor.

  “Has he found the perfect scarf yet?” Casey asked.

  “He keeps trying.” Duke had peeked at Rohan’s latest purchase in a bag he’d left hanging in the dining room. Soft enough but the wrong shade of green.