Chapter 7
When Smitty wandered into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower, Max was already there, making breakfast.
“Morning, babe.”
“Good morning, Smitty.” Max pronounced it Smeety.
Smitty loved it. He loved it almost as much as when Max said Avery, with the heavy Maurice Chevalier accent and rolling the r. Av-er-y…God, he could come just from hearing that.
“Are you rested?” Max asked.
“I am, thanks. How about you?”
“I had a very good night, as it turns out.” He slanted a look at Smitty. Yeah, Max had pretty much f****d him through the mattress. Afterward, Max had fallen asleep in Smitty’s arms, and it hadn’t taken Smitty long to follow him. They’d both slept like logs.
“Always glad to help.” Smitty inhaled deeply, taking in the mixed scents of the sautéed bell pepper a
