Recipe For Love (6 page)

"Hey, baby. The evil bitch whore made Rache cry, and Billy made her leave the hospital. It was fabulous."

"Go Billy! I told you my boy was a good one."

Jack chuckled. "He's something, all right. When are you coming down? You've missed a whole six hours!"

His Jack had given the kids the apartment, had bought furniture, clothes. Now he lived with Dan in his house. Their house.

"I'm on my way. I just need to drop off the bank envelope."

"Good deal. They're going to let Rache go home tonight, late. How was your day?"

"Great. I sold out of your cupcakes, and the celebration cakes for the baby girl sold out even faster. Have they given her a name yet?" He held the phone against his shoulder and locked up.

"Lindsay Nicole."

"Little Lindsay, I like it." He walked across the street and put the bank bag into the slot, making sure it closed solidly on the money.

"I do, too. She's beautiful, just like her mom."

"Yeah, thank God she doesn't look like her father." He grinned, getting into his car. "Okay, I'm on my way. I'll be there in ten."

"Okay, baby. Bring us some burgers or something? I'll take you to a steak dinner late tonight." Right. Like he was ever a late night type.

"Just promise you'll let me have you when we do get home."

Jack's chuckle was pure evil. "Every inch."

"Jack... I'll have an accident if you make me drive with a hard-on."

"Don't you dare. You just come on. They're bringing our grandbaby to the room."

"I'll be there in five, I swear."

"Good deal. Love you, baby."

Warmth hit him, low in his belly like it always did at those words. "Love you, Jack."

He hung up and started the car, driving toward his lover and his new granddaughter. His life.

Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the
Kama Sutra
by channeling the long-lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to
Chicago.

A long-time writer of complicated haiku, Sean is currently attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate-spinning and soap-carving sex toys.

Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.

To learn more about Sean, please visit: www.seanmichaelwrites.com

Olympic beach volleyball hopeful Kenn Majors took out his shoulder during a surfing charity event. Now the whole world's on his back, from his teammate to his father, to get back into shape in time for the Worlds, and then the Olympics. Kenn's new trainer, Dusty, is just one more change that's happened since he injured himself, and he's not sure if he's coming or going. What's more, Dusty's a hot guy who's also gay.

Will Kenn be able to keep his attraction under control and manage to get his shoulder back to where it needs to be in time to win at the Worlds? Or does the whole situation have disaster written all over it?