Chris's laughter subsided into a soft, breathless chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slowly as he looked from the impossible flowers to the equally impossible man across the table from him.
Dax's smile was slow and satisfied. "I prefer to think of it as a strategic relocation."
"Of me or the flowers?"
"Both," Dax said without missing a beat. "They look better with you here."
Chris felt a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun streaming through the glass. He picked up his fork, then set it down again, his curiosity overriding any pretense of appetite.
"You're not serious about the bedroom," he said, though he knew Dax was. "That was just… a threat. To distract me from the real estate transaction you just casually admitted to."
Dax took a slow sip of water, his eyes never leaving Chris's over the rim of the glass. "I don't make threats I don't intend to keep."
Chris's pulse jumped. "So there is a bedroom."
