The Peppermint Schnapps Predicament by Clare London

All the portable devices he owned would be tagged the same but were currently turned off. A couple of files remained on the desk, beside a neat pile of loose documents and his diary, which lay open with the next day’s appointments tagged as a reminder. Tonight, he’d cleared away his work earlier than usual. Yes, knowing Zeke Roswell had definitely changed things for Miles. Miles watched and wondered, his hand itching to reach down and push the hair back himself-to touch the warm head, to tangle his fingers in the curls and tug, until Zeke’s gaze came up to meet his, until Zeke’s growl warned him he was likely to get more than he’d bargained for. Zeke muttered something under his breath and pushed his thick hair impatiently off his forehead. He gazed at the man kneeling in front of the desk. The pattern of his life had changed, his interests had changed, and so had his priorities.

Nowadays, things were a little different. At least, that’s what used to be said about him. He knew what was said around the water cooler: Miles Winter hadn’t become so successful, so young, without sacrificing what most sane people would call a decently balanced work-to-leisure ratio. That wasn’t unusual, of course, because everyone knew how committed he was to his business. The office was closed for the night, his staff all sent home, but he was still there. I’ll clear it up, and we can talk about this later.” “Look, it’s a problem, right? All this damned mess. He was crouched down on the carpet, not meeting Miles’s eyes, apparently engrossed in the box’s contents. “I know,” Zeke said, as if Miles really had spoken. He opened his mouth to protest, then shut it.

MILES WINTER stood in front of his broad, mahogany executive desk, half perched on the edge of it, and watched Zeke Roswell spill a box full of items all over the plush carpet of the office.

The Peppermint Schnapps Predicament by Clare London