Barry finished scouring the sauté pan, set it on the drainer and pulled the drain plug.
“There you are,” Jake said, bursting through the door.
“Where did you think I’d be?” Barry replied, drying his hands.
“I don’t know.” Jake shrugged. “What did you do with the rest of Jimmy’s cake?”
“Put it in a storage tin. Planned on serving it after lunch tomorrow. Surely you can’t still be hungry. You had two big slices.”
Jake squirmed. “It was very good cake, wasn’t it, Rory?”
“Uh, yes it was.”
“If you and Jimmy hadn’t been filling your faces, you’d have noticed that some of us,” Barry indicated himself and Rory, “only had one piece.”
“Oh.” Jake’s face fell.
Barry bit his lip. Although Jake had some way to go before he reached Jimmy’s level of skill with regards kicked puppy dog expressions, the man edged ahead because his face—no matter the expression—was just so handsome and adorable.
Barry ran a hand down Jake’s ridged abs. “Can I feel a bulge?”