Page 5 of Touched By Destiny
“I think a man in boxers is sexy.”
Richard pursed his lips. Since he hadn’t gone out, his handsome face was scrubbed clean of cosmetics, and even though he was wearing sweats, they were matched precisely. No matter what Richard wore, he looked fashionable and immaculate. It was something Eric envied since he was lucky if he achieved passable—and that was saying a lot since Richard and their cousin, Maribeth, picked out every article of clothing he owned.
“Well, you’re not wrong, but we can’t afford to be subtle if we want to find your soulmate. How did things go?”
“Like they always do,” Eric replied and offered no resistance as Richard pulled him into a hug.
“I’ll mix you a drink; come into the kitchen. I want to know everything.”
“Where’s Maribeth?”
“At home,” Richard said, looping his arm through Eric’s and guiding him through the foyer and into the kitchen his mother and David—the inspirit she’d resurrected long before either he or Richard were born—had designed. The white, lightly veined marble countertops were a beautiful complement to the stone-gray cabinets, and Eric loved the opulent chandelier gleaming above them. “She found a new book, and I was annoying her with too many questions.”
“You use up all your patience at work.”
“It can hardly be helped. I demand perfection, and my clients appreciate my attention to detail. Thankfully, Douglas and I are masters at what we do. But none of that matters right now. Tell me about the date. Was he nice to you?”
“He was probably the prettiest guy you’ve set me up with.”
“Right? That face. I’d love to have hair like his.”
“Yeah, it’s too bad I could actually hear the thoughts rattling around in his empty head.”
Richard opened a cabinet and threw his head back as he laughed. “You’re horrible. I didn’t set you up with him for his stunning repartee.”
“I doubt he could even spellrepartee.”
“Now, now, Eric, be nice,” Richard tutted as he pulled out two martini glasses. “You have yet to give me any details.”
“Okay, you made me wear pants way too tight and hot for a Nevada summer so I could spend two hours listening to…shit. I forgot his name.”
Cocking his head, Richard’s blue gaze narrowed. “Bradford? No…um…Beaumont. How could I forget that?”
“Right. Beaumont.Don’t call me Beau. He spent two hours talking about himself. My steak was good though.”
“Of course it was. You were in a Marwood casino. At the newest and hottest restaurant in Vegas. Henry Duren is an incredible chef. It was quite a coup to have him open his first restaurant on the West Coast in our humble little establishment.”
Eric still wanted to yank the thong out of his ass, but he planted himself on a barstool and took a dirty martini from his brother. “I ordered a second helping of potatoes.”
“Those are meant to be shared,” Richard replied with a chuckle.
“Beaumont doesn’t eat carbs. They’re bad for you.”
“We’re necromancers, baby, we can eat whatever we want.”
“I probably could have told him that. He wasn’t listening to a damn word I said. So, I stopped talking after the salads.”
“Okay, well, you weren’t there for him,” Richard said. “Can we get to the important part now? What did Gabriel do while you dined with the irritating-but-beautiful Beaumont?”
“Glowered at me from six feet away.”
“Glowered like he was jealous you were with another man?”
“I’m pretty sure he was pissed that he had ten hours’ notice I was going on a date in the first place.”
“Trust me, I know,” Richard mused, propping a hip against the counter. “I swear he spent half our conversation this morning talking through his teeth.”
“What was the point of arranging all of it at the last minute and springing it on Gabriel like that in the first place?”