Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Judge was finished eating and doing the breakfast dishes, even though Linda tried to push him away from the sink. She was no match for him and Judge clearly enjoyed teasing her. It was a nice side of him to see. He was glad Judge had brought him here. It didn’t mean anything significant because it was obvious Judge had stopped in because he had a job Linda needed done. The water heater was fixed, now they had to get moving.
They had a cup of coffee with Linda, talking with her about nothing in particular. She mostly asked Michaels questions about his life in Atlanta. “You and Judge are so similar.”
“Linda,” Judge groaned.
“What?” She shrugged innocently.
Judge gave her a look and Michaels couldn’t help but laugh. “Linda, is it okay if I say goodbye to Judge, Sr.?”
Linda smiled sadly. “Sure. He should be finished with his breakfast by now. Let me check.”
Michaels put his cup in the sink and stood there staring out the window at Bookem walking around sniffing random things. He heard Judge’s chair scrape against the worn linoleum. He could feel his heat behind, but he didn’t turn around. Were things going to be awkward? He hoped not. He didn’t do awkward.
“You don’t have to say bye to him,” Judge mumbled.
Michaels spun around, frowning with confusion. “Why the hell wouldn’t I? I enjoyed meeting him, and he and Linda were more than hospitable. You don’t want me to say, ‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Sir. Take care.’ What the fuck?”
Judge looked chastised. “No. I didn’t mean it like that. Never mind.”
Linda came back in the room. “Okay. You can go on up.”
He cut his eyes at Judge as he left. Taking the stairs to the third level, he tapped lightly on the open door, announcing himself. “Good morning, Sir.”
Judge, Sr. was still in his pajamas with a long, checkered robe cinched tight over them. He was sitting in a recliner in front of a regular sized television watching Good Morning America. He looked tired but the smile he gave Michaels stretched across his face and radiated through his eyes. “Hey there, slugger.”
Michaels laughed, coming to sit across from him in the matching love seat. It was a cozy apartment. Clean and well lived-in. It was very clear Linda took good care of him. Michaels wondered briefly what it’d be like to grow old with someone, to have a person you loved be there with you in your final days. They should all be so lucky. But that kind of thing… that kind of love was rare. He wasn’t sure if he’d have it, or if he even deserved it.
“Judge and I are going to be getting on the road soon. I wanted to make sure to tell you that it was a pleasure meeting you and your wife.”
Judge, Sr. chuckled lightly before he responded. “Linda’s not my wife. We’ve been together twenty-one years but I never remarried after I lost JJ’s mother.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” Michaels returned.
He waved a shaky hand dismissively. “That’s alright. I was a fool. It’s too late now, though. My days are numbered. But I know she’ll be right there till the end.”
Michaels was uncomfortable. “That’s what’s most important, right?”
Eyes eerily similar to Judge’s stared long and hard at him, like Judge, Sr. was seeing right through him. Michaels squirmed in his seat, diverting his eyes to the television.
“Yeah. That’s important. It’s important to JJ too, even though he won’t admit it to himself. He doesn’t want to be alone. No one does. He’s not going to be easy to catch, Austin.”
“Sir, um. I’m not sure….” Michaels rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say. How’d he even know Michaels was gay? Nevertheless. He didn’t want to go there with Judge’s father. They weren’t a couple. Hell, they weren’t even a thing. Busting one nut on his ass didn’t give Judge claim to a damn thing. Besides, they’d never work as a couple. Both of them had shitty attitudes and were pretty well stuck in their ways.
“It’s alright.” Judge, Sr. smiled in that way old people did when they knew they were right and couldn’t wait to prove the young fool wrong. “I’ll let you boys figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Judge’s bass timbre slid up Michaels’ spine and vibrated his chest. He turned and saw him leaning in the doorway, commanding and in control while lazily chewing on that sugarcane. Looking as imposing as he did last night. Fuck. He couldn’t think about that right now. Couldn’t think of the seared handprint that had been left on his hip, or look too hard and see the red marks he’d left on Judge’s thick neck. He couldn’t think about last night at all because his soft, well-worn jeans wouldn’t conceal his hard cock.