Upon presenting the painting, Sam had pulled Jaime into a crushing hug, before wiping his tears and telling him that he should start posting his art online. Jaime knew that his brother made a substantial amount of money through an onlineplatform he’d started back when he was in college in an effort to financially support them both, but Sam was always opaque about exactly how he did it.
And because Sam only shared what he wanted, when he wanted—despite his near-overbearing protectiveness of Jaime—he’d never pressed him about it. Frankly, Jaime wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Sam shared less of his life with Jaime these days, but his support and love was steadfast. So, Jaime had quit his soul-sucking corporate job and committed to a full-time commission schedule once he’d established himself as a pet memorial artist. He had even bought his own small cabin on Loon Lake, roughly fifteen minutes north of Monroe and just outside the out-of-the-way town of Silver Rapids.
Meeting Finn a few weeks ago had been an unexpected surprise. He’d signed up for the dating app because he found himself spending most of the time he wasn’t at Sam’s alone, and he longed for companionship—someone to cherish and make his home warm and cozy with. But he hadn’t expected to find someone he clicked with so immediately.
Finn just feltright.
They’d shared a surprising amount with each other already, from childhoods with missing and absent parents, to Jaime’s close relationship with his brother and his passion for art. Their conversations progressed quickly from the app, to text, and then video chats.
A couple of nights ago, they’d stayed up entirely too late talking about everything and nothing until it was obvious that they should say goodnight, but neither of them did. They’d just laid there, laughing and interjecting conversation into the wee hours of the morning.
Eventually Jaime had started to nod off, and Finn softly wished him goodnight. He had never experienced that kind of ease with anyone before—it was exhilarating and terrifying.
With his heart in his throat, Jaime had texted Finn the next morning.
Hi. So, last night was fun. :) I enjoyed talking to you. Would you maybe want to go out sometime? With me?
Finn’s response was nearly instant.
Yes!
Maybe tomorrow night? Or the next day?
Or we could wait till this weekend, sorry, I’m not trying to rush you.
Jaime couldn’t wipe the goofy grin from his face for the rest of the day if he tried.
Lost in thought, the drive into town went by quickly. Monroe wasn’t big, with only a few thousand people living in the city proper. Most of the town was developed around the local college where Jaime and Sam got their degrees, but it was steadily growing, with a grocery store, a few chain restaurants, and a small hospital.
The town skirted along the base of the nearby mountain range, butting right up against the tree line creating steep, hilly roads. The main town center was home to various local shops that catered to tourists and outdoor enthusiasts passing through on their way into Alaska’s interior, but as Jaime drove through the first few stoplights he turned off toward the western edge. New developers had built several communities of large, modern-yet-rugged homes tucked into the mountainside for the influxof affluent people leaving behind Anchorage for their smaller community.
His client, Vera Novikova-Dugan, and her husband Jeffrey Dugan, were one of the wealthier couples to relocate. An heiress to one of the major developers in the Monroe and outer-Anchorage area, Vera was practically Monroe royalty. Jaime was hopeful that a good impression with her commission, a portrait of a golden retriever named Bailey, would lead to more business from her rich friends.
He parked his car along the street outside their house, one of those colossal McMansion monstrosities with a log-cabin exterior, wrought-iron accents, and giant windows everywhere.
Jaime tried and failed to settle his nerves and excitement for what the rest of the evening would hold, but he couldn’t help his broad smile at the thought of finally meeting Finn face-to-face. He’d worn his favorite jeans, the ones that made his ass look fantastic, and he knew the green sweater he had on made his eyes pop, especially on an overcast evening like this.
Commission first, then you can go meet Mr. Swoony Broad Shoulders.
Right. The client.
The air felt still when he stepped out, a hush settling over the neighborhood like a breath waiting to be released. He carefully unloaded the painting and floated up the lit driveway, his thoughts full of warm brown eyes and hope.
A flash of movement caught his eye, and he saw the silhouette of a man shutting an open side window of Vera’s house before disappearing further inside—probably her husband closing up against the evening chill.
Sam’s warning popped into his head.
Just because they are rich, that doesn’t mean they don’t have drums of acid filled with people in their basement.
Sam watched too many true crime documentaries. Ready for this quick errand to be over with so he could be on his way to Silver Rapids, on his way to Finn, Jaime straightened his shoulders and rang the doorbell.
Chapter 2
Finn
“Do I look ok?”
