Rack & Ruin (THIRDS 3)

“That’s the idea.”

“You skipped puberty didn’t you?”

Dex let out a wistful sigh. “It wasn’t for me.”

Sloane laughed as he carried Dex out of the room. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m also nonrefundable.”

“Surely there’s a return policy.”

“Forget it. You’re way past the thirty-day refund period. You’re stuck with me now. And before you ask, I’m also nontransferable and nonexchangeable. If you donate me to charity there’s no tax write-off because technically that would be considered Human trafficking.”

“Wow. You’ve got your bases covered.”

“You bet. Should have paid more attention to the Dexter J. Daley boyfriend agreement.”

Sloane dropped him onto the counter and stepped between his legs to pull him close. “I don’t recall this boyfriend agreement.”

“You might have been sleeping at the time, but sleep during the reading of the DJDBA is covered in the fine print. As long as you have a pulse, you’re considered present and accounted for.”

“Duly noted.” Sloane slipped his hands under the too-big T-shirt when something seemed to occur to him. “What’s the J stand for in your middle name? It’s not stated in your file.”

Dang it. He should have known it would come up sooner or later. Dex pretended to be giving the question considerable thought, and Sloane decided to get to work on those cookies. He went to his fridge and groaned when he opened it. From his perch on the counter Dex could see all his tasty, unhealthy snacks he had snuck into Sloane’s fridge. There were rolls of cookie dough, a bottle of chocolate syrup, candy bars, pizza, white bread, and a score of other foodstuffs that were full calorie, full fat, high in sugar, and screaming with carbs.

“I feel faint,” Sloane muttered, grabbing one of the tubes of chocolate chip cookie dough. “I think the only way I can feel remotely better about this is if you tell me your middle name.”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Why?” Sloane removed a baking sheet from one of the cabinets and prepped it before opening the tube of cookie dough.

Dex shrugged, his eyes on his dangling feet. “Because it’s corny.”

“Come on. I won’t laugh.”

“Fine. It’s my great-great-great-grandfather’s name. He was a Pinkerton back in the late 1800s. The men in my family have always been lawmen dating to way back when.”

“And his name was…?” Sloane put the tube on the counter and turned to him with a smile. “Come on. It can’t be that bad.”

“This is me we’re talking about.”

“True. Still. You know I won’t laugh.”

Might as well get it over with. “Justice Daley.”

Sloane blinked. “Your middle name is Justice?”

“Yep.”

“That is—” Dex narrowed his eyes at him and waited. With a laugh, Sloane gathered him up in his arms. “The cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, the kids in school didn’t think it was so cute. That’s why I started using ‘J’ instead. It kind of stuck.” Dex wrapped his arms around Sloane’s neck and leaned in for a sweet kiss. His lips pulled into a dimple-forming smile. “If you tell Ash, I will kick your ass.”

“Now why would I do that when I could coerce you into more pleasant things to ensure my silence?” Sloane wriggled his eyebrows, and Dex couldn’t keep himself from laughing.

“Blackmail, huh?”

Sloane let out a hum as he kissed Dex, his hands finding their way under Dex’s shirt again. Dex pulled back and grinned at him. He didn’t even have to say anything.