Free Duty and Devotion by Tere Michaels Page A

and snatched a piece of her cake, chewing defiantly.
    “You know, you're really going to have to bring me tougher problems,” Liz sighed. “These are softballs being lobbed at me.”
    “Sorry my pedestrian issues aren't exciting enough for you, Dr. Liz. Maybe you need to get back to forensic work.”
    “Maybe I will.” Liz pushed her plate over to Matt's side of the island. “What about you?”
    “What about me?”
    “Maybe you need something of your own again—something that isn't taking care of the house and kids.”
    “So I should get a job?” Matt considered it, but nothing of interest immediately came to mind. He liked being home, liked being around the kids. He liked going to the gym when it wasn't crowded and taking a run through quiet streets, not fighting rush-hour traffic.
    “Or a hobby or—something. Something just yours and no one else's. It might help ease your feelings that you're just replacing Sherri.”
    “Hmmm… Maybe.” Matt finished Liz's piece of cake and his coffee.
    “That'll be three hundred dollars.”
    “I'll pay the receptionist on the way out.”
    * * *
    Matt took advantage of his quiet day to putter around before heading home to pick up the kids. He went to the gym after leaving Liz's house and stopped by a bookstore to rifle through the magazine section. The Relationship aisle he passed on the way there almost lured him in, but he kept walking. He doubted anyone had written a book to address his special snowflake problems at the moment.
    But when he thought of books, Matt thought about the “joke” books Jim sent last year. The Gay Kama Sutra, if he recalled correctly. When he moved in with Evan and the kids, most of his books and non-sentimental items ended up in the sunroom—which is where Matt found himself wandering into when he got home.
    It took a few minutes, but under the textbooks and old Sports Illustrateds he found the box from Jim and the book, still tucked neatly inside.
    They'd not really ever used it. With all Evan's jealousy of Jim, Matt didn't think it a great idea to pull the book out at bedtime and announce where it came from. Hell, the title alone might send Evan fleeing out of the room in sheer horror.
    He stared at the cover for a few minutes, thumbed through a few pages. His groin showed some interest—that was a nice mood lifter.
    Maybe it was a pipe dream to imagine he and Evan could find this mutual ground, where labels didn't matter but shame wasn't in the equation. Maybe they could find a way to express their sexual desire without all that baggage suddenly throwing itself into the middle of things.
    Maybe he should take his own advice and shut up, appreciate what they had instead of wishing there was more. Who cared if Evan considered himself gay? So long as he came home to Matt every night, why did it matter?
    Fuck, this love thing was complicated.
    * * *
    “So dinner? The four of us? Isn't that a little weird?” Matt stirred spaghetti sauce in a bubbling pot on the mess that previously was their stove. The cell was wedged to one ear as Jim's amused laughter answered him.
    “Maybe, a little. But why not? I think it'll be fine. We're all adults.”
    “Hmmm…and I guess you're technically not an ex because you know, been in that situation unintentionally—ex meeting current, and it was ugly. Authorities were nearly called.”
    “Ha. No, this is just four grown men having a nice dinner and me getting some enjoyment out of an evening of theater.”
    “Theater?”
    “Griffin's friend Daisy is opening in some big Broadway play.” Jim sighed. “It's not even a damn musical—that would keep me awake. It's a play.”
    “That's where they just talk, right?”
    “Sadly, yes. But I promised. And Griffin's dad was supposed to come with us, but he's had bronchitis for weeks. I don't think he's joining us.”
    “I feel like your backup plan. Color me insulted.” Matt turned off the stove and opened the oven to check on the store-bought lasagna.